Blue Dandelions

Strictly Dickly | richhousewife

Summary:

Katsuki thinks the "We need to talk." text should be illegal.

He doesn't know which law exactly it would be enforced through, but he feels somewhere in the 'Assault with the intent of great bodily harm' family would be fitting. Perhaps emotional distress. Or homicide.

Additionally, not only does Katsuki think it should be a crime against humanity to send such a text, but the fucking asshole behind the screen deserved the goddamn electric chair for sending it not even twenty-four goddamn hours after rejecting Katsuki's kiss.

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In which Katsuki is gay and doesn't see why what Deku's got in his pants is such a big fucking deal.

Notes:

I meant to write pure smut and somehow eleven pages of plot snuck in. Anyway, lms if trans Deku, amirite???

AFAB terminology used heavily throughout. Not sure if that's worth mentioning but don't know where we are societally with political correctness.

 Chapter 1: Dicks and Clits

"It's... wet."

Katsuki evened red eyes in concentration, watching the shining pink folds and dips of Deku's pussy like it was a forgotten species.

"Yea—I—" Deku squeaked from behind his own hands, stubby fingers shielding the embarrassment Katsuki could practically feel emanating from his person, "They—uh—do that sometimes."

The smaller boy was on his back, green curls a halo of texture atop cheesy All Might themed bed sheets as Katsuki sat between parted knees, his face so close to Deku's nether regions, he's pretty sure said cunt could probably feel the steam from his breath.

"I thought you had to like... do something for it to get wet." He says, head cocking here.

He hears Deku mutter something along the lines of Please kill me then, thin shoulders near tensed to pink tinged ears.

Katsuki has very obviously never in all his twenty-six years of life seen a vagina. Well—not in person anyway. He was one of those lucky gays who never felt the need to vacate a closet of any sort—strictly dickly since puberty and never looking the other way since.

But then he met Deku.

And—well...

Maybe he should start from the beginning.

First things first—Katsuki liked ass and he's not ashamed to admit that his eyes made contact with the cheeks huddled within Deku's compression shorts before even glancing towards the ones on his face.

Katsuki would have both died and killed in that moment to bury his face between the shape of it.

Then he spent the next two weeks convincing the little shit to hang out with him. Then another month to get Deku to even consider calling what they did when they hung out a date. And then another month still to coax the little shit into admitting he liked him.

And—fuck—if hearing those pouty lips fina-fucking-lly admit to seeing Katsuki in a potential lover way instead of the eternal bestie way Deku'd been trying to push onto him for the past month in a half didn't touch both Katsuki's dick and his heart, he doesn't know what would.

Until one day, he got that dreaded text.

Katsuki thinks the "We need to talk." text should be illegal.

He doesn't know which law exactly it would be enforced through, but he feels somewhere in the assault with the intent of great bodily harm family would be fitting. Perhaps emotional distress. Or homicide.