The shower water is scalding, beating down on their shoulders, turning the blood on their skin to pink rivers that swirl down the drain between their feet. Izuku’s hands are gentle, working cheap citrus-scented soap into Katsuki’s chest, over the hard planes of his abs, rinsing away the last physical evidence of Yo. Katsuki stands still, head bowed, water plastering his blond spikes flat as his mother’s slender fingers trace the lines of his body.

“Look at me, baby boy.”

Katsuki’s red eyes lift. They’re hollow, shell-shocked. Izuku’s forest-green gaze holds him, steady and sure. He cups Katsuki’s jaw, thumb stroking over his cheekbone, smearing a last faint streak of pink.

“It’s just us now,” Izuku murmurs, his voice a soft melody under the drumming water. “Just Mommy and Kacchan. Everything else is gone.”

Katsuki’s breath hitches. A tremor runs through him. Then his hands come up, gripping Izuku’s hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh of his mother’s thighs. He pulls him close, their wet bodies sliding together. Izuku’s small breasts press against Katsuki’s chest, his hard nipples scraping skin.

“Say it again,” Katsuki rasps, his voice raw.

“Just us,” Izuku whispers, tilting his face up. “Forever.”

Katsuki crashes his mouth down on Izuku’s. It’s not gentle. It’s claiming, desperate, a clash of teeth and tongue and shared breath. Izuku moans into it, a high, sweet sound, his hands flying up to tangle in Katsuki’s wet hair. The water pours over them, steam thickening the air until it’s hard to breathe anything but each other.

Katsuki walks him back until Izuku’s shoulders hit the cold tile wall. He grinds his hips forward, his massive, thick cock already hard and pressing against Izuku’s lower belly. Izuku breaks the kiss, gasping.

“Feel that, Mommy?” Katsuki growls against his lips. “That’s all for you. Only you.”

“I know, baby,” Izuku pants, his hands sliding down Katsuki’s back, over the flexing muscles. “I always knew. Give it to me. Please.”

Katsuki’s hand slides between them, fingers finding Izuku’s soaked, fat pussy. He groans, the sound vibrating deep in his chest. “Fuck. You’re dripping.”

“For you,” Izuku breathes, spreading his legs wider against the tile. “Always for you. Make me forget, Kacchan. Make it all go away.”

Katsuki doesn’t hesitate. He hooks his hands under Izuku’s thighs, lifting him effortlessly. Izuku wraps his legs around his son’s waist, arms around his neck. Katsuki lines himself up, the broad, leaking head of his uncut cock nudging against Izuku’s entrance.

“Look at me,” Katsuki commands, his crimson eyes burning.

Izuku obeys, his green eyes wide, pupils blown black with want. Katsuki pushes inside.

It’s a slow, brutal stretch. Izuku cries out, a sharp, broken sound that echoes off the tiles. His head falls back against the wall. Katsuki holds still, buried to the hilt, feeling his mother’s tight, fluttering heat clench around him. Water streams over their faces.

“You take me so good, Mommy,” Katsuki grunts, his own voice strained with the effort of control. “So fucking good.”

“More,” Izuku whimpers, his nails biting into Katsuki’s shoulders. “Move, baby. Please move.”

Katsuki pulls out almost all the way, then slams back in. The force drives a gush of wetness from Izuku, mixing with the shower spray. Katsuki sets a punishing rhythm, each thrust jolting Izuku against the wall, the slap of their wet skin joining the noise of the water.

“Whose is this?” Katsuki snarls, his hips pistoning. “Whose pussy?”

“Yours!” Izuku sobs, his body shaking. “Your pussy, baby boy, only yours—”

“Damn right.” Katsuki’s mouth finds Izuku’s throat, sucking a bruise into the freckled skin. “Gonna fill it up. Gonna breed you right here, Mommy. You want that?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes—” Izuku’s words dissolve into a scream as his orgasm rips through him. His cunt convulses around Katsuki’s cock, a flood of hot liquid squirting out between them, soaking Katsuki’s lower stomach. The scent of it, musky and sweet, cuts through the citrus soap.

Katsuki fucks him through it, relentless, chasing his own peak. “That’s it,” he pants. “Squirt for me. Let me feel it.”

Izuku is babbling, overstimulated, tears mixing with the shower. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, baby, give it to me, give me your cum—”

Katsuki’s control snaps. With a raw, guttural shout, he buries himself deep and comes, his cock pulsing as he empties himself inside his mother. He grinds his hips, milking every last drop, his forehead pressed to Izuku’s shoulder as he shudders.

They stay like that for long minutes, panting, the water beginning to run lukewarm. Katsuki finally eases out, a trickle of his release following. He lowers Izuku’s trembling legs carefully.

Izuku sags against the wall, boneless. A dreamy, sated smile touches his lips. He reaches for Katsuki’s face. “My good boy.”

Katsuki turns his head, kissing Izuku’s palm. His eyes are no longer hollow. They burn with a fierce, possessive light. “Not done.”

He shuts off the water. The sudden silence is deafening. Steam rolls off their bodies as he pushes open the shower door and pulls Izuku out into the humid bathroom.

He doesn’t reach for a towel. He just drops to his knees on the bath mat, his hands spreading Izuku’s thick thighs apart. He leans in, his tongue laving a broad stripe through the mess of cum and squirt and soap.

Izuku gasps, his hands flying to Katsuki’s damp hair. “Kacchan—!”

“Taste us,” Katsuki murmurs, his voice rough. He licks into him, deep, cleaning him with his tongue, drinking him down. Izuku’s knees buckle. Katsuki holds him up, his mouth working, until Izuku is shaking and coming again with a thin, breathy cry, his hands fisted in blond spikes.

Katsuki rises, kissing his way up Izuku’s trembling body. He makes his mother taste their cocktail of combined cum. “Bedroom,” he says.

He doesn’t carry him. He walks him, a hand possessively on the small of Izuku’s back, leaving wet footprints on the hallway floor. They pass the closed door to Katsuki’s room—the room where Yo died. Neither looks at it.

In Izuku’s sunlit bedroom, Katsuki lays him down on the clean comforter. The morning light paints his freckled skin gold. Katsuki stares down at him, his cock already hard again, jutting thick and heavy from his body.

“You’re so beautiful, Mommy,” he says, the words quiet, almost awed. A crack and the fuckboy armor falls apart.

Izuku opens his arms. “Come here, my baby.”

This time, it’s slower. Katsuki covers him, kissing him with a devastating tenderness that makes Izuku’s chest ache. He enters him again with a smooth, deep roll of his hips. They move together, a rhythm that’s less frantic, more profound. Izuku wraps his legs high around Katsuki’s waist, pulling him deeper.

“Tell me,” Katsuki breathes against his lips, his thrusts long and deep. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” Izuku whispers, his eyes locked on his son’s. “Always you. In me. On me. I want your smell on my sheets. I want to feel you leak out of me all day. I want the whole house to know who I belong to.”

Katsuki moans, a broken, vulnerable sound. He buries his face in Izuku’s neck. “Yours,” he grunts. “I’m yours, Mommy.”

He comes again inside him, a hot, endless flood, and Izuku follows, his body arching off the bed, a fresh wave of slickness soaking the comforter beneath them. The room fills with the smell of sex—their sex, musky and primal.

They don’t rest. An hour later, Katsuki fucks him over the kitchen counter, scattering a bowl of flour. Izuku braces himself on the cool granite, crying out as Katsuki pounds into him from behind, his big hands gripping Izuku’s bubble butt, spreading him wide. They knock a mug to the floor. It shatters. They don’t stop.

“Breed me here, baby,” Izuku begs, looking back over his shoulder, his green eyes glazed. “Mark your kitchen.”

Katsuki does, roaring as he spills, painting Izuku’s insides with his seed for the third time.

They move to the living room couch. Izuku straddles him, riding his son’s massive cock with slow, grinding rolls of his hips, his small breasts bouncing, his puffy dark nipples brushing Katsuki’s chest. Katsuki watches, rapt, his hands on Izuku’s waist, guiding him.

“You feel so big, Kacchan,” Izuku moans, his head thrown back. “So deep. You’re ruining me for anyone else.”

“There is no one else,” Katsuki snarls, bucking up into him. “Ever again.”

Izuku comes with a sob, squirting all over Katsuki’s stomach and thighs, the fluid soaking into the couch cushions. Katsuki thrusts up into the clenching, fluttering heat, filling him again.

They collapse together on the ruined couch, a tangled, sweating mess. The scent of them is overwhelming—sex and salt and the sharp, coppery ghost of blood that no amount of showering can erase. Katsuki’s head rests on Izuku’s chest, his ear pressed to the frantic beat of his mother’s heart.

“You hear that?” Izuku whispers, his fingers carding through damp blond spikes. “That’s yours. It only beats for you.”

Katsuki turns his face, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the freckled skin over Izuku’s sternum. “Prove it.”

He shifts, his body sliding down the couch until his face is level with Izuku’s cunt, swollen and glistening with their combined spend. He doesn’t ask. He just leans in and licks, a slow, filthy drag of his tongue through the mess.

Izuku’s back arches off the cushions. “Kacchan—”

“Tastes like me,” Katsuki growls, his voice muffled against Izuku’s flesh. “Tastes like you. Tastes like us. Fuck.” He licks deeper, his nose nudging Izuku’s clit. “You’re dripping me out, Mommy. It’s leaking everywhere.”

“It’s supposed to,” Izuku gasps, his hands fisting in the fabric. “I want it to. I want to walk around all day feeling you seep out of me.”

Katsuki moans, the vibration making Izuku jerk. He eats him out with a desperate, starving intensity, his tongue fucking into him, lapping up every drop. Izuku’s thighs tremble around his head.

“Gonna make you squirt again,” Katsuki says, pulling back just enough to speak, his lips slick and shining. “Right here. Soak the fucking couch. Let everyone who ever sits here smell what we did.”

“Yes,” Izuku begs, his hips rolling. “Do it, baby. Make a mess of me.”

Katsuki seals his mouth over him, sucking hard on his clit while two fingers curl inside, pressing deep. Izuku shatters, a raw scream tearing from his throat as another gush of fluid floods Katsuki’s mouth. He drinks it down, swallowing greedily, until Izuku is sobbing and pushing at his head, overstimulated.

Katsuki rises, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His cock is a thick, angry red, jutting against his stomach. He’s hard again. Always hard. “Up.”

“Where?” Izuku pants, his body limp.

“Everywhere.”

He hauls Izuku to his feet, his grip bruising on his mother’s hip. He walks him, stumbling, into the hallway. He pushes him against the wall next to the family photos—smiling pictures of a younger Izuku and a gap-toothed Katsuki. The frame digs into Izuku’s shoulder blade.

Katsuki lifts one of Izuku’s legs, hooking it over his arm. He doesn’t prep. He just lines up and pushes inside in one brutal, deep thrust.

Izuku cries out, his head thumping back against the wall. “Fuck!”

“Look at them,” Katsuki grunts, his pace punishing, each slam driving Izuku into the drywall. “Look at those pictures, Mommy. Look at that sweet little boy.”

Izuku turns his head, his vision blurring. The child in the photo grins back, innocent. Katsuki’s hips snap forward, burying his cock to the hilt.

“That’s me,” Katsuki snarls, his breath hot on Izuku’s ear. “That’s your baby boy. And this is his cunt. Say it.”

“It’s yours,” Izuku whimpers, his nails scraping down Katsuki’s back. “It’s always been yours, Kacchan, only yours—”

Katsuki’s rhythm falters. He comes with a choked-off roar, his teeth sinking into Izuku’s shoulder as he pumps his release deep. Izuku follows, a weaker stream of slickness adding to the mess between their thighs.

They slide down the wall to the floor, a heap of limbs in the dim hallway. Katsuki’s softening cock slips out with a wet sound. A trickle of cum immediately leaks from Izuku, pooling on the hardwood.

Izuku’s head lolls against the wall, his eyes drifting from the childhood photos to his son’s face. “Fuck Mommy’s mouth,” he whispers, voice ragged. “Right here. Make me choke on it.”

Katsuki’s red eyes darken. He hauls himself up, his body trembling with spent exertion and fresh need. He stands over Izuku, his cock already thickening again, glistening with their mixed fluids. “Open.”

Izuku obeys, tilting his head back, mouth falling open. Katsuki steps forward, guiding himself with one hand. He doesn’t tease. He pushes the broad head past Izuku’s lips, watching them stretch.

“Suck,” Katsuki commands, his voice a low rasp.

Izuku’s tongue swirls around the crown, lapping at the bitter salt of his own slickness and Katsuki’s spend. He hollows his cheeks, taking him deeper, his green eyes watering as the thick length hits the back of his throat.

“Deeper, Mommy.” Katsuki’s hand tangles in the damp green curls, not guiding—forcing. He thrusts forward, sheathing himself to the root.

Izuku gags, a wet, choking sound that vibrates through Katsuki’s cock. His throat convulses, struggling to accommodate the invasion. Spit drikes down his chin.

“That’s it,” Katsuki groans, his hips rocking shallowly. “Take your baby boy’s cock. Swallow it.”

He pulls back until just the tip rests on Izuku’s tongue, then slams back in. Again. Again. A brutal, rhythmic fucking of his mother’s mouth. The obscene, wet sounds echo in the hallway, underscored by Izuku’s choked breaths and Katsuki’s grunts.

Izuku’s hands come up, not to push away, but to clutch at Katsuki’s thighs, nails biting into the muscle. His eyes are streaming, but he holds the gaze of the grinning boy in the photo frame beside them.

“You look so pretty like this,” Katsuki pants, his thrusts becoming erratic. “Mouth full of me. In front of all our happy little memories.”

He stills, buried deep, and pulses hot down Izuku’s throat. Izuku swallows convulsively, drinking every drop, a low moan trapped in his chest.

Katsuki pulls out with a slick pop. Izuku coughs, gasping for air, strings of saliva and cum connecting his lips to Katsuki’s softening cock.

“Up,” Katsuki says, his voice raw. He pulls Izuku to his feet, steering him by the shoulder toward the foyer. “Not done.”

“Never done,” Izuku rasps, his throat sore. He stumbles on weak legs, his body a map of bruises and bites.

In the open space of the foyer, Katsuki spins him, pushing him face-first against the front door. The cold wood bites into Izuku’s overheated skin. Katsuki’s hand slides between his thighs, fingers slipping easily into his soaked, used cunt.

“Still so loose,” Katsuki murmurs, curling his fingers. “Still dripping me. You’re gonna stay this way forever.”

“Yes,” Izuku whimpers, pushing back against his hand.

Katsuki replaces his fingers with his cock, driving in with one smooth, deep stroke. Izuku cries out, the sound muffled against the door.

“Who do you belong to?” Katsuki snarls, his pace hard and fast, the slap of their skin loud in the empty space.

“You! Kacchan, only you—”

“Say my name.”

“Katsuki!” Izuku screams as Katsuki pistons into him, hitting a spot that makes his vision white out. “My baby boy, my Kaachan, fuck—”

Katsuki comes with a shudder, spilling inside him again, his forehead pressed between Izuku’s shoulder blades. He stays there for a long moment, breathing hard. Then he pulls out, turning Izuku around to kiss him, deep and filthy, tasting himself on his mother’s tongue.

“Stairs,” Katsuki says against his mouth.

He half-carries, half-drags Izuku to the staircase. He sits on the third step, yanking Izuku down onto his lap, impaling him in one rough motion. Izuku moans, his arms wrapping around Katsuki’s neck for balance as he’s filled.

“Ride me,” Katsuki orders, his hands gripping Izuku’s ass, spreading him wider. “Fuck yourself on your son’s cock, Mommy.”

Izuku moves, bouncing desperately, his small breasts heaving. Each downward grind draws a broken sound from them both. The wooden edge of the step digs into Katsuki’s back, into Izuku’s knees. They don’t care.

“Gonna fill you so full,” Katsuki grunts, his hips meeting every drop. “Gonna breed you until you can’t think of anything but my cum in your belly.”

“Please,” Izuku sobs, his rhythm faltering as another orgasm rips through him, soaking Katsuki’s thighs. “Please, baby, give it to me, I need it—”

Katsuki thrusts up, hard, and spills with a guttural cry, his release flooding Izuku’s already overflowing channel. They cling to each other, panting, as the last waves subside.

Dusk paints the hallway in long, blue shadows. Katsuki stands, Izuku still wrapped around him, and carries him up the remaining stairs to Izuku’s bedroom. He lays him gently on the rumpled, clean sheets.

He covers Izuku’s body with his own, not entering him again, just pressing him into the mattress. His cock, soft now, rests against Izuku’s sticky thigh. He kisses him, slow and deep, a contrast to the frenzy of the last hours.

“Mommy,” Katsuki whispers, the word a confession in the dark.

“My Kacchan,” Izuku answers, his hands framing his son’s face. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. In every way.”

Katsuki doesn’t say it back with words. He presses his face into the crook of Izuku’s neck, his breath hot against the pulse point. He holds him so tightly it aches, his entire body a vow.

“I you so much, Mommy.”

Outside, the world goes quiet. Inside, the house breathes with the scent of their sex, their sweat, their claim. They drift, tangled together, into an exhausted sleep. There are no more ghosts here. Only them.