Izuku has had sex with Katsuki many times before. He's melted into his body, felt the burning hot pleasure the man brings him with every fiber in his body. He's screamed into the night, crying into the sheets because he knows it's just this. It's just these moments that he gets to keep, just these nights spent holding each other, nothing more.
He hates it, more than he cares to admit. Maybe he yearns for the feeling, maybe his heart aches when Katsuki turns down his winky face, but he loathes those feelings. He hates what they have, he hates that he always wants more. He wants Katsuki to stay afterwards, he wants him to kiss him and warm up his cold sheets. He wants him to smile when they walk past each other in the hallways, wants him to talk to him about anything, it could be anything. He wants him to kiss him, just to kiss him. No hidden lust or hidden intention. He hates kissing him, feeling the rush of adrenaline for a few seconds, before gravity pulls him back down and he has to accept the reality of expert hands undoing his belt.
It's not that he doesn't enjoy every part of Katsuki's body, every expert touch that makes him feel all the right things. He loves his deep crimson eyes, that drown him like an overflowing tide. He adores his adonis-like body, that shines under the sun like he's god himself. He loves his messy hair, that gets flattened by his pillows and fluffed by heavy breathing and pulling and tugging. He loves his sharp bones, that poke through the muscles wrapping his body like a precious diamond, so sharp they could cut him open. He loves his voice, like sunny days on the beach, gravelly like dirt roads, soft like a cold breeze. He wants to keep him for himself, he wants to hug and kiss him, hold his hand just because.
But that's not what happens. He never gets his kiss. He never gets a warm hand enveloping his cold ones. He'll never be wrapped up like a diamond by Katsuki's warm embrace.
That's not what this is, not what Izuku or Katsuki agreed to. So they yell and scream into pillows, wrecking themselves, just for the hell of it. Because they'll never love each other, it won't ever be more than mindless sex.
Katsuki gets up from the bed, picking up his shirt and throwing it over his head, the shirt slipping seamlessly down his body like a wave. He sighs and picks up his underwear beginning to pull them on before his eye catches Izuku staring at him, with a look of something he doesn't understand. Like he wants something, like what he wants will never be fulfilled. longing.
"What?" he asks nonchalantly, grabbing his pants and pulling them on in one clean sweep.
Izuku shrugs, even if it's awkward because he's still laying down. He pulls a blanket over his body.
Katsuki wants to ignore it, shrug in return and throw his shoes on, leaving so he can go study for a math final he has to do tomorrow. But his brows come together in the middle and he can't rub this headache away.
"No, what? What's wrong?"
Izuku looks almost shocked, looking away, avoiding his deathly gaze like it'll actually kill him. Katsuki almost leaves it alone after that, because he should. He'd never get anywhere talking to Izuku, he never does.
Katsuki sighs and pulls out a chair from Izuku's desk, spinning it around and sitting down, staring daggers into Izuku's skull.
They stay like that for awhile. The silence fills the room and the holes left empty in Izuku's heart. He'd never get anywhere telling Katsuki he longs for more. He'd never work up the courage to tell him he wants to kiss him, just to kiss him.
But he doesn't get up in leave. For the first time ever, he has the patience to wait for Izuku's mind to get so overwhelmed he speaks, even if he tries not to. So Izuku speaks, even though he doesn't to. His eyes glide to meet Katsuki's, and then he's stuck, speaking his mind, transferring his thoughts to Katsuki.
