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It’s quiet.
It’s not that big of a surprise- it often is this early in the morning- especially considering the fact that neither Denki nor Izuku are early risers, but even more so today, considering that Denki had left for an overseas mission two days ago and Izuku, having got in very late last night, has yet to show his face.
And so, Hitoshi and Katsuki are alone in the kitchen, sitting in the ambient silence as they often do; sipping coffee and picking at toast- Hitoshi going over a report- Katsuki reading something on his phone- one of his big hands squeezed around Hitoshi’s thigh like an anchor; the two of them neck-deep in their usual morning routine-
-When suddenly, there’s movement in the doorway: a green head- soft steps-
-And the blink of an eye, Izuku is on the other side of the island; his body pulled up tall- his shoulders stiff- something pinched and nervous, and yet, oddly determined shining in his eyes.
“Morning, Izuku.” Hitoshi greets warmly, setting down his coffee mug, eyes flicking towards him. “Did you sleep oka-”
“-I wanted to ask you both something.” He interrupts sharply.
Hitoshi goes still, Katsuki following suit as he pauses halfway through a sip; their eyes silently meeting in the middle- a curious look shared between them.
Huh.
Weird.
“Um, okay.” Hitoshi returns, the calm in his words at odds with the sudden tension that fills the air. “Ask away, love.”
And with his permission given, Izuku’s shoulders relax minutely; some of the anxiety easing from his eyes- his hands setting down on the countertop as if he’s bracing himself for a blow.
A heavy inhale. A slow exhale.
“So.” He begins-
A beat; thick- plodding-
-And growing impatient, Katsuki visibly begins to fidget- giving him a few moments before finally setting his coffee down and turning to him with wary, scrutinizing eyes.
“-So?” Katsuki repeats, a single blonde brow raising.
And Izuku, knowing better than to test the already-thin limits of Katsuki’s patience, begins to nibble on his lower lip; his hands worrying the seams of his pants.
“-My birthday’s coming up.” He whispers.
A blink. A quick exchange of glances.
“...And-?” Hitoshi asks, growing more and more curious by the breath.
“And…I wanna, well, try something.” Izuku finally answers, his eyes raising and looking from face to face.
And in an instant, Hitoshi’s growing apprehension melts away like snow in the sunlight.
Oh.
That’s not too strange.
In fact, Hitoshi can recall all too well what Izuku had requested last year for his birthday; can almost feel the rough texture of wood under his palms- can almost hear the sounds of them together that he’d heard then, having been left sequestered and untouched in his seat on the opposite side of the room- nearly sweating through his clothes as he’d watched Denki writhe and cry and come- watched Izuku go nearly catatonic with pleasure- watched Katsuki fuck them both to the point of oblivion.
And that was a whole year ago- long before they’d begun their relationship- before they even knew that they were in love-
-And suddenly very, very interested in whatever it is that his sweet Izuku wants to try, he leans in, heart already pounding.
“Oh-?” He asks, chin resting onto a hand. “Something special?”
And seeing Hitoshi’s soft expression- hearing the fond tone- the matching of his energy, Izuku begins to visibly relax; that anxiety unraveling incrementally under the easy, supportive aura.
He releases his pants- his entire face brightening.
“Mhm.” He nods, giving him a cautious smile.
And when Hitoshi glances to his side, he finds, with delight, that Katsuki is nearly mirroring him; leaning his elbows onto the counter- his coffee set aside- something curious and anticipatory flickering in his expression.
“Shoot, baby.” He prompts, his mouth curving at one side.
That's all it takes- two little words- and any remaining apprehension is gone- utterly erased; those emerald eyes gone glittery with sudden excitement as he leans on the counter and begins to explain.
“Okay, so, Denki’s still gonna be out of the country on the day itself-,” He reminds them, “-and I dunno, I was just thinking that since it’ll just be the three of us, I’d like to try something, um,…different.”
Hitoshi’s heart skips a beat.
“How different?” Katsuki suddenly asks; his face pinched with a look of deep suspicion.
Izuku scoffs, his nose wrinkling like he’s almost offended.
“Nothing weird, Kacchan.” He assures, waving a hand at him. “I just thought that maybe we could…play with some…dynamics-?”
Hitoshi’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline; his stomach doing a pleasurable little flop- and before he can stop himself, he’s purring:
“...Dynamics , huh?”
And sure, he’s usually a little more subtle- usually a little more graceful- but he can’t really bother to care about it as Izuku’s face flushes pink- as he turns his chin to the side- hands worrying in front of him.
“Well-,” He begins softly- shyly-, “-it’s just that you two usually top and I usually bottom- sub, y’know-”
And as if he’s realizing that what he’s saying could potentially offend, he suddenly pulls his head up; eyes wide- hands waving in front of him.
“-and that’s great, don’t get me wrong- really, it’s amazing-”
Hitoshi watches Katsuki’s eyes narrow in his peripherals.
“-But-?” He asks, clearly waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Izuku manages a watery smile.
“-but I thought maybe we could try-”
His voice trails off- his words fading into the air- and yet, he doesn’t really need to continue; his intentions written in neon lights across his eyes.
Izuku- his soft, precious baby- his obedient, perfect pet- wants to try a different dynamic- wants to be on top- wants to try domming.
Oh.
Ohhh.
Now, it’s true that there had been instances before; tiny, split-second flickers of that side of him that wink out from behind his sweet, sweet face- picture-bulb flashes of that sort that have unintentionally slipped out of him from time to time-
-But now, it’s clear that he wants to actually explore it- to experiment-
-And hell, if he’s going to stand in his way.
But perhaps he’d been quiet for too long, because when he looks again, Izuku seems a breath from combusting- the anxiety plain as day on his face- hands fiddling nervously- body shifting from foot to foot.
“-I know it’s weird.” He begins, eyes casting downward, “-And I might not be that good at it, but-”
Hitoshi doesn’t hesitate.
He’s on his feet in half a breath, swinging around the island in long strides; immediately coming to him and taking his face into his hands.
“Izuku.” He addresses him coolly. “You don’t have to explain, love.”
A wide-eyed gape upward.
“I- I don’t?” He asks, eyes flicking to him- to Katsuki and back again-
-And to his credit, Katsuki looks equally as sure; leaning on his hand with a confidence that’s almost annoying- that oozes satisfaction.
“Nah.” He assures, looking at Hitoshi-
-and seeing the agreement that meets him- the obvious acceptance plastered all over his face, he smirks and quickly adds:
“We’re game, baby.”
Shocked and thrilled, Izuku puffs up- his eyes bright- smile wide as he looks back and forth, asking:
“You are? You’d be okay with-?”
“-Of course.” Hitoshi assures, reaching out to run a hand through his hair. “Now-”
He leans forward, not bothering to temper the predatory way his mouth curls at the side as he takes him by the back of the neck and purrs:
“-What did you have in mind-?”
It’s warm.
Actually, no, scratch that- it’s hot.
He hasn’t moved a muscle in what seems like hours- not since Katsuki had slipped the plug inside him and set up him upright-
-and yet, the back of his neck is sweating; his fingers itching- every nerve in his body nearly sizzling as he does his best to hold himself steady- to keep himself still.
And on the other side of the bed, Katsuki doesn’t seem to be faring much better: his pupils mere pinpricks in the soft, low light- his breath ragged from waiting- bare nipples peaked despite the heat- fingers drumming impatiently against the tensed muscles in his quads-
-And best- worst- his cock; stiff and thick between his legs- untouched, and yet, glistening at the tip- twitching under the pressure of anticipation- almost angry from impatience- the intrusion of the matching plug inside his body probably just as agonizing-
-But there’s nothing he can do; nothing either of them can do-
-Because they agreed to obey- to submit completely- and Izuku has not yet given his permission.
In fact, he hasn’t said a thing or moved at all in the last few minutes, no-
-No, he’s just sitting in the armchair at the foot of the bed- just watching them; his eyes almost glowing with a sadistic sort of delight as his two lovers wait at his pleasure- held completely at his beck and call.
And logically, Hitoshi knows it’s all part of the game; a scene they’d all consented to- discussed at length- planned out almost to the minute- and yet, it’s torture- pure agony to remain still when Katsuki looks like that; desperate and hard and half a breath from exploding-
-because if this were his scene, he would’ve already pounced- would probably already be tongue-deep in Katsuki’s ass; would already have him panting face-down on the bed- arms pinned- legs shaking-
-But not Izuku.
No, Izuku seems content to hold them here- to make them wait- to use the anticipation like a weapon- to mentally break them down block by block and batter away at them until they finally crack-
-And Katsuki must see it- must be approaching the end of his rope- must be boiling inside- because, after what seems like an hour of patient stillness, he finally, finally snaps.
“Deku, come on-!” He protests loudly, his head turning- eyes furrowed- beginning to rise off of his knees- hands reaching-
-And Izuku, suddenly going hard as iron and just as cold, doesn’t move a muscle, only quietly calling:
“Toshi.”
They planned for this- discussed this- and following the orders he was given, Hitoshi activates his quirk.
“Stop. Hands on your thighs.” He commands-
-And instantly, Katsuki’s body seizes- going completely still as if his limbs have suddenly been pressed into an invisible vice; his knees falling back to the bed with a soft hiss of air- his hands jerking back to his thighs like some unholy puppet master had ordered it so.
And yes, he probably knew this would happen- he was there for all the planning, after all-
-and yet, he still frowns deeply; teeth gleaming white in the dark as he bares them and hisses:
“Deku.”
It’s a warning- a threat- a bid for him to stop playing around and get on with it-
-but Izuku doesn’t flinch- doesn’t blink, only looking down at him like he’s disappointed- like he’s bored; leaning onto his hands with a nonchalance that’s equal parts attractive and infuriating.
“Hm.” He hums, glib and careless. “You seem…impatient, Kacchan.”
A brow raises; a low undercurrent of devilry clutched in every cooed word as he tilts his head, narrows his eyes, and asks:
“Do you have somewhere to be?”
Katsuki ruffles like an angry cat in response; his eyes mere slits in his irritation- his mouth snarling- chest heaving as he bites back:
“Yes, you little shit, in his ass-” He snarls, cocking his head Hitoshi’s way-
-And just as before, Izuku calls to him.
“Toshi.”
And knowing exactly what he wants him to do, he doesn’t miss a beat; only slipping into Katsuki’s head and demanding:
“Quiet.”
And mid-scoff, the sound dies from Katsuki’s mouth; his pithy, little jabs fading into silence-
-And unsurprisingly hating being muzzled like this, he bares his teeth in anger, shoulders tugging as if he’s trying to break free; his mouth forming a shape, that, if he were able to make sound, would surely be a terrifying snarl-
-But Izuku isn’t afraid. Not a bit. Not at all.
No, he just leans forward with raised brows; his elbows settling on his knees- his expression half-disappointed, half-pitying.
“Oh, Kacchan.” He tuts, almost like a teacher scolding an unruly student. “You’re so used to getting your way all of the time- so used to always being on top.”
And with a sigh, he rests back in his seat, one leg crossing over the other- hands gripping the armrests- back straight and tall like a king on a throne.
“But you’re on the bottom tonight, love.” He purrs.
And then, flashing him a wicked, teasing smile, he softly adds:
“-Act like it.”
And oh.
Oh, fuck.
Hitoshi swallows deep and thick- hands flexing- his cock abruptly like iron between his legs; throbbing with a sudden, heavy wave of thick desire- the adjoining stretch of the plug inside him simultaneously heaven and hell-
-because this shade of Izuku, strange as it is- different as it is- is surprisingly delicious- is fucking exquisite, even.
How had they gone so long without seeing it? How had he ever survived not knowing that Izuku could sound like this- be like this- have so much control- so much power-??
He secretly thanks any god that will listen that Izuku chose the side of good, because this darker side of him is equal parts so terrifying and so fucking hot that he could almost drool.
And Izuku, observant as he is, must see the wonder on his face- must note the appreciation that seeps out of every feature- the unbridled need that fills every pore and line- because, when he looks back at him, he softens minutely; his eyes raking him fondly.
“Toshi.” He whispers gently.
It’s a simple call- just his name- and yet, every nerve in Hitoshi’s body screams to attention like some invisible force had willed it so; his pupils suddenly fixed on him- his gaze intent- his entire being immediately waiting on pins for anything Izuku may ask- a mere ant at the feet of a tiger.
(And in that moment, he suddenly understands all too well how easily one could get addicted to this sort of submission.)
“Can you go to him?” Izuku finishes, head cocking towards where Katsuki kneels.
His response is immediate.
“Yes, Izuku.”
Finally released from the purgatory of stillness, he does as he’s been ordered; his joints a little achy from sitting still for so long- the hot slide of the silicone inside him equal parts invasive and incredible as he crawls on his knees towards Katsuki until he’s just barely out of reach.
And being so close, Katsuki looks at him plaintively as he circles him like a violet vulture; crimson irises flaring- dark pupils going wide as he tries to speak to him through his eyes alone; giving him a look that silently begs for clemency- for mercy- for help-
-But Hitoshi isn’t his to order tonight. No, tonight, he belongs solely to Izuku- is tethered hook, line, and soul to Izuku- and so, he does exactly as he’s told when that soft tenor voice calls:
“Touch him, Toshi. Slowly.”
And he’d sooner die than disobey, so, exhaling heavy and hard, he settles himself onto his knees behind his quarry; his hands reaching- heart thundering as he finally brings his fingers down to his boyfriend’s peachy, flushed skin-
-And that first, tentative touch after all the waiting must be the release Katsuki had been craving- must honestly feel like heaven- because his hands clench and his skin prickles and despite years’ worth of proud, stubborn posturing, he opens his mouth into a shape, that, at any other time, would hail a moan- one that’s long and low and heavy; thick with yearning and impatience- sodden in unmistakable desire.
And Hitoshi can do nothing but gawk like an idiot, because, with him kneeling and silenced and completely at his mercy, he has no choice but to look at his boyfriend and see the part of him that he usually takes such care to conceal- the side he so rarely shows- the rare, beautiful shade of him that wants to be put down and touched and teased-
-And sure enough, that’s the look that Katsuki is giving him now: his eyes half-lidded with pleasure- hazy with desire as they flick over his shoulder- his body almost trembling from all of the anticipation-
-And yet, Hitoshi knows that he can’t make any real decisions- knows that he must follow whatever order he’s given- and so, filled with that ever-present need to please, he looks over the slope of Katsuki’s shoulder, pointing his line of sight right at the man watching them from across the room.
Izuku meets it.
And suddenly feeling very exposed under that steady, green gaze, Hitoshi swallows and pitches his brows- a look of ‘can I?’
He watches, nearly in slow motion, as Izuku reacts.
A benevolent curving of lips. A soft, amused exhale. A freckled face leaning with graceful nonchalance onto a hand as he whispers:
“Don’t be shy, Toshi. You know where to touch.”
And there it is: Izuku’s explicit permission- and even more than that, a hidden demand.
And honestly, he’s right. He does know where to touch.
So he doesn’t hesitate; his hands lashing out- ringed fingers beelining for the place that he knows Izuku wants him to attack-
-And Katsuki sees it- he must- because his eyes go big and his breath catches- but quirked and unable to move, he can only watch as Hitoshi’s arms wrap around his torso- his chest pressing itself to Katsuki’s back as he draws himself in- as he slots them together; his thumbs reaching out to brush heavily over peaked nipples.
Katsuki’s body jolts like he’s been shocked; his nose inhaling a glass-sharp breath- fingers twitching where they’re chained to his thighs as his skin visibly shivers from the bedspread to the top of his head.
“Nnngh.”
Still unable to make sound, it’s a rumble from the core of him- a noiseless groan through clenched teeth; a weak effort at dignity as Hitoshi’s thumbs touch and tease- pull and prod-
-And Katsuki, unable to do anything but submit, melts into the body behind him; head falling back against his shoulder- his eyes going glassy as Hitoshi nuzzles into his temple- kisses gently into his hairline- ruts himself slowly into his backside.
And for a moment- just one- the game fizzles into the background- the scene fading into shades of grey; his strict instructions lost into some cobwebbed corner of his mind as he lets himself enjoy the novelty of it; the uncommon and yet, entirely delicious position he finds himself in.
After all, it’s rare for Katsuki to be so compliant- so submissive- and even rarer for him to not have to make any plans or call any shots- and so, indulgently, he lets himself get swept away into it; kissing him gently- nibbling at the lobes of his ears- nails dragging over sharp, cut abdominals- fingers wandering and caressing and mapping out the complicated combination of scars that crisscross his body- the cold metal of his rings making Katsuki’s flushed skin rise to attention- his cock unconsciously beginning to steadily thrust into his thick backside-
-And Katsuki, usually so snippy and stubborn and impatient, uncharacteristically begins to sink right beside him; his jaw clenching- breath catching- immobile fingers curling in and out of fists like he’s aching to touch- his cock visibly throbbing where it stands between his legs- the fight steadily bleeding from his eyes drop by drop as Hitoshi’s careful adoration whittles away the remaining shrapnel bits of his resistance, until-
“-Toshi, stop.” Izuku’s voice rings out.
And instantly, Hitoshi freezes in place; his hands holding away from that addicting skin- mouth pausing its ministrations- every cell in his body held in time as he waits for his next command.
And when he glances Izuku’s way, he finds, with a spark of delight, that Izuku, who, through the entire scene, had been so stoic- so commanding- so calm-
-is sweating.
Yes, another glance confirms it; his eyes taking in the beads of sweat that are traitorously forming at his brow- the newly-made indents in that soft, delectable lower lip- and best, the now-unmistakable hardness in his pants.
And yes, it’s delicious- divine- but at the same time, there’s no time for victory or pride- no time to feel satisfied for his good work, because, in a breath, Izuku is leaning forward with eyes like uncut gems- lethal and beautiful and almost depraved as he quietly whispers:
“Touch him.”
And of course, he has been touching him, but the subtext here is so obvious that it might as well be text-
-And not needing to hear more, Hitoshi does as he’s told; his hands meandering down from that delicious, muscular chest- the pads of his fingers dragging lower and lower- Katsuki’s anticipatory suck of breath like a welcome mat being laid at his feet-
-And without preamble or warning, his hand is abruptly wrapping around his cock; the heat of it a sudden contradiction to the cool metal around his fingers- the first contact like an electric spark that shoots through them both.
Katsuki shudders as much as the quirk will allow; shaking horribly at the hips- his mouth falling open into a silent sound of affirmation- an unheard cry of pleasure rumbling lower and lower into his chest as Hitoshi ceases the teasing and strokes his hand up the length of him.
A craggy exhale. Sanguine eyes going half-lidded. Pupils blowing. A heartbeat like a war drum against his own.
And most importantly, one of the prettiest cocks he’s ever seen drooling obscenely into his hand- throbbing against his fingers- silky and smooth and hot as fire-
-And his- all his- all-
“-Slower, Toshi.” Izuku suddenly calls. “Not too fast.”
And suddenly, the fantasy shatters in his palms, his eyes flashing over to find his boyfriend- his sweet, perfect, beloved Izuku; Izuku who is currently looking at them the way a carnivore looks at a meal; eyes narrowed and fixed- feet planted like he could pounce any moment.
“Tease him.” He adds; that soft, tenor voice taking on a timbre he’s never heard before- one that sends a chill up his spine; a tone so dark and so attractive that it makes him ache all over- that makes his body unconsciously clench around the plug inside him.
And sure, yes, this wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but he made a promise and he trusts Izuku, so he obeys; easing the rhythm of his hand into something almost cruel- an indolent pace too slow to bring him to orgasm, but just fast enough to keep him wanting- to keep him panting and writhing.
And even with Katsuki twitching in his lap- his hard cock leaking between his fingers, Hitoshi can’t help but stare at Izuku where he sits- watching as Izuku takes in the sight before him; his eyes almost beginning to glow- his curls sticking to his temples- hands nearly crushing the wood of the armrests- the tension tightening like a coil ready to snap as he watches his Kacchan slowly be battered away into nothing-
-And perhaps reaching a limit of his own, Izuku’s voice suddenly cuts through the haze.
“Let him speak, Toshi.” He whispers, clearly hanging on by a thread.
Hitoshi turns his face into Katsuki’s neck, kissing it gently and whispering:
“Speak.”
And finally released from the manacles of imposed silence, Katsuki’s voice nearly rips out of him, desperate and wild and loud; his words raw as if holding them in had torn at his throat.
“Fuck-!” He calls, eyes pinching closed before cracking open once more; his expression drawn and frenzied and halfway to wrecked. “Fuck- fuck- Deku- Deku-”
The last word is scarcely more than a weak moan- a whisper that pleads-
-And Izuku sits up tall, eyes blazing, a wave of undiluted pride washing over every square inch of his freckled skin; a victory at knowing he’d pushed his darling Kacchan so deep-
-but as quickly as it comes, it goes; his body sinking back down into his seat with an insouciance that almost stings as he leans lazily back onto his hand.
“Mm.” He hums languidly; mouth curving at the corners. “That must feel good, Kacchan.”
Katsuki makes a choking sound- a gulp of surprise; his expression slackening as if he’d never expected Izuku to be so cruel-
-but apparently not tolerating any disobedience and quickly tiring of his reticence, Izuku’s brows furrow- his eyes flashing as he hisses:
“Say it. ”
And unsurprisingly, Katsuki balks at it; clenching his jaw hard in a minute show of defiance-
-only for Izuku’s eyes to flick back to Hitoshi where he sits; the intention within them so clear that he doesn’t even need to say a word-
-And in an instant, Hitoshi’s hand is squeezing- speeding up- his rings dragging up the sensitive underside of him, pulling and pressing, until, overwhelmed by sensation and pinned down with nowhere to run, Katsuki begins to crumble; his eyes rolling- his mouth letting out a soft, tremulous:
“Aaah-!”
And oh, it’s like music; submissive and soft and delirious with pleasure-
-But, pretty as it is, Izuku doesn’t let him off the hook; only leaning forward and grinning at him.
“Say it~” He hums musically- tauntingly-
-And Katsuki, knowing that he’s stuck- that he’s trapped- that he’s been beaten- finally, finally submits.
“-Good- !” He shouts, eyes pinching shut, “-Feels good-! Feels so fucking good- what the fuck-”
And despite the harsh persona he’d committed himself to- the predatory look in his eyes- the air of confidence and apathy- Izuku visibly shivers at it; a tiny, blissful sound of contentment breaking out of his mouth as he leans back into his chair, tilts back his head against the rest, and whispers:
“Ah. There we go.”
And shit- holy shit- the sound of his voice like that, thick and honeyed and content, is like a fingertip running up his spine.
In fact, he’s still chin-deep in it- nearly drowning in it- when Izuku gives another command.
“Toshi.” He coos. “With your mouth now.”
And perhaps he’s getting too lost into the scene- falling too hard into his role- because, at those words alone, he feels his mouth begin to water on cue- almost like someone had rung a bell; his body instantly launching into movement- breaking away from Katsuki’s backside to crawl to his front.
“Lean back on your hands.” He orders, watching with a twisted sort of delight as Katsuki’s body obeys without hesitation; the new position pushing that ridiculous chest out into the air- putting his hard, perfect cock on full display- trussing him up like a dish just ready to be devoured.
It’s gorgeous.
And nearly drooling from the beautiful sight, Hitoshi lowers himself down- gets himself into position; soaking up each turn and twist of the toy inside him as he brings his mouth close- opens it-
-Only to stop on a dime as his name rings through the air.
“-Oh, and Toshi-?” Izuku calls softly.
A quick flick of violet eyes over his shoulder. A shudder and a soft gasp.
Because when he looks, Izuku is leaning forward in his seat, his fingers steepled in front of his face- smiling like the Devil himself- his lovely green eyes blazing like hellfire .
“-Don’t let him come.” He breathes wickedly.
Hitoshi can physically feel his pupils blow- his cock throbbing against the sheets as the words wash over him like water; his hands gripping- his chest stuttering- heart racing.
It’s dark.
It’s twisted.
It’s incredible.
And with Katsuki unmuzzled, there’s no missing the choked sound of disbelief that comes out of him; a sound that is quickly eclipsed by a shocked, lewd moan as Hitoshi turns back, lowers his head, and takes him all the way down to the base in a single, smooth bob.
And falling ever-deeper into his role of servitude, everything begins to get a little blurry then; the room around them going dizzy like a carousel as Hitoshi takes Katsuki into his mouth again and again; his ears drinking in the pathetic sounds of pleasure that echo into them- his hands reaching out to hold Katsuki steady at those delectable hips.
Up and down.
In and out.
Delicate sounds that deepen with every passing heartbeat.
Moans that seem to fray like an old worn rope, strand by strand, until that deep, growling voice is raw.
And Hitoshi, sick, twisted bastard that he is, soaks them up like a sponge, hoarding them gluttonously into the back of his head; never stopping or slowing as he pulls his lover to the edge of delirium- as he drags him toe after toe towards the peak.
And sure enough, after a few minutes of steady work, he can see it approaching.
After all, he knows every one of Katsuki’s tells at this point; knows just when he’s getting to the point of no return; can almost map out every twitch and catch of breath that leads up to the inevitable climax, and this is no exception, because he can see it now; can almost predict every moment to the second-
-and just when his lover’s balls begin to tighten- when his thighs begin to quake- when everything pulls into a high, sharp point-?
Hitoshi backs away- releasing him from his mouth just before he can come, leaving his cock angry and red and throbbing in the open air.
And Katsuki, unable to fight back or grab him or really move at all , just hisses- growls - snarls low in his throat like a predator about to bite- his anger white-hot and furious in his eyes.
But unafraid of this little show of displeasure, Hitoshi doesn’t react.
No, he just maintains his distance- gives it a minute to pass- runs his hands temptingly up his thick legs and down his hard, cut abs- blunt nails dragging- cool rings kissing against his skin; each gentle touch winding him down breath by breath.
And just when Katsuki’s body begins to settle again- just when that pinched look finally leaves his face-?
That’s when Hitoshi takes him back into his mouth, starting the game anew; a loud, high-pitched wail of surprise and sensitivity ringing out through the miasmic air between them.
And it’s good- so good- just a step below divine to push him like this-
-and quickly getting lost in the ever-addicting sadism of his task, everything starts to go fuzzy; one unachieved orgasm blurring into the next- Katsuki’s furious sounds whittling away into soft, pitiful ones- whimpers- pathetic, pleading sounds that you normally couldn’t torture out of him.
But it’s not too surprising because, even though he’s well-renowned for his willpower, at the end of the day, Katsuki Bakugou is still just a human- just a man- and after maybe the fourth time Hitoshi pulls away from him, he, only being a human, finally begins to break.
“Deku.” He gasps; splintered and hoarse and deliciously undone; his chest heaving- cheeks flushed all the way down to his neck- eyes bleary and unfocused as he looks at him across the room.
“Deku, lemme fuckin-’” He begins-
-Only for Izuku to hold up a single finger to stop him.
“Ah ah.” He wags it back and forth, something cruel glowing out of the depths of his eyes. “Patience, Kacchan.”
And to his shock, Katsuki doesn’t snarl or hiss, no, he actually whines in protest , high and petulant and loud; the sound shooting straight down Hitoshi’s spine.
Oh my god.
“-Deku, fuck-!” Katsuki cries pathetically; the barest edge of tears clinging tight to the desperation in his words-
-And Jesus Christ, Hitoshi has to suddenly cling to his hips to keep himself still; his hands gripping like iron in a weak bid to keep himself from breaking the rules- from disregarding the scene and fucking him straight into the mattress-
-But across the room, Izuku doesn’t appear to be swayed (or at least, not as much as Hitoshi, anyway)- because his voice remains almost unsettlingly even and calm as he responds.
“You’re not being very good, Kacchan.” He notes, his voice almost sounding…disappointed?
A soft huff of displeasure.
“You’re always so good for Toshi, why are you being so disobedient now?”
And again, Katsuki whines; loud and impudent- borderline bratty-
-And Izuku must not like it, because he makes a quiet, scoffing sound and calls:
“Toshi. Deeper.”
And utterly under his spell and all too happy to oblige, Hitoshi immediately does as he’s told; launching himself back onto Katsuki’s cock and taking him all the way down until his nose bumps against his groin- ignoring the raspy, broken sound that comes out of his chest as he swallows him down.
And it’s then, with his mouth full and eyes stinging from the effort, that everything begins to burn.
His hands where they grip.
His cock rutting into the bedclothes.
Katsuki’s wet heat on his tongue.
And sure enough, Katsuki begins to unravel beneath him with every passing second; his heartbeat going erratic- each inhale tinted with pleading sounds of delirious pleasure-
-and even with Hitoshi’s quirk holding him fast, he begins to tremble from head to toe; his cock fucking throbbing in his throat- precome pooling at the tip- his entire, beautiful body pulled taut like a thread about to snap- his breaths sharp and short and labored- a sound that is unmistakably a sob tearing out of the depths of him.
And completely unprepared for it, Hitoshi sucks in a gasp; body tensing- eyes popping, because god, it’s heavy- it’s hot- it’s dark and twisted- fucked up and yet, so incredibly good.
And yeah, he’s sick, but Hitoshi can’t help but smile around him as he feels Katsuki’s body begin to tighten once more-
-And though he desperately wants to see it through to the end- wants it more than he’s ever wanting anything- Hitoshi, still obeying his orders, pulls back and away, letting Katsuki’s cock fall back against his stomach; watching in a macabre sort of wonder as it twitches pitifully against his sweaty stomach- dripping lewdly against his damp skin-
-And the sound of horror and dismay that Katsuki makes is delectable- obscene and delicious and drool-worthy; every bit of that world-famous pride fluttering away like feathers on the wind as he pinches his eyes closed, grits his teeth, and finally begs.
“Deku, please-!” He cries out; body thrashing as much as it can- his limbs clearly stinging from the intense denial-
-And nearly overwhelmed with curiosity and so turned on he could die, Hitoshi’s head turns; his eyes looking over his shoulder to see how Izuku will react to this genuine show of submission-
-Only to find him watching them both with eyes like shards of glass; his sharp, freckled jaw leaning onto one hand, his voice never betraying him as he smiles like a demon and breathes:
“Well, that’s a start.”
And strong until now, it’s that- Izuku’s blasé response- that apparently does him in; that finally makes the powerful Katsuki Bakugou crack.
“Izuku.” He pleads; dignity gone- voice hoarse from moaning- eyes cloudy with delirium- body shaking like a leaf, “Don’t do this.”
A wet catch of breath.
“Don’t fuckin’ do this to me- I’m sorry- please, baby-”
And despite his air of calm- this playacting of grace and nonchalance- something flickers to life in Izuku’s eyes; a wild, emerald conflagration sparking within them as the words sink in.
“Oh.” He purrs, reaching down to slowly, deliberately unbutton the top button of his pants. “Now, that I like.”
And seeing an in- a light at the end of the tunnel- Katsuki, clever as he is, disregards his pride and falls head-first into it; his tone soft and contrite- his words loving and genuine.
“-Izuku- love- baby-,” He gasps, that gravel-rough voice suddenly gone adoring. “-C’mon- l- I’m sorry- I’ll be good- c’mon, please-”
And Hitoshi, lucky man that he is, gets to watch in real time as Izuku’s mouth slowly curls; as his sweet, innocent face morphs into a devilish look of blithe amusement.
“Alright.” He hums. “I’m listening.”
He leans forward, eyeing his lover like he’s looking for the right place to bite; taking in every square inch of sweaty, shivering skin before asking:
“What is it that you want, Kacchan?” He wonders aloud, sounding almost disinterested. “Be specific.”
And Katsuki, pulled to the edge of his limits and half out of his mind with need, doesn’t even have the wherewithal to make a quip or say something clever.
No, he blurts out his answer gracelessly, croaking weakly between heaving breaths.
“-Come. ” He rattles softly, every part of him shaking. “Come. Wanna-”
Izuku tuts.
“Yes, of course. I know. ” He answers shortly, almost as if he’s losing his patience. “I said ‘be specific,’ Kacchan.”
And somewhere through the daze, Katsuki must understand what he needs to do; must understand what Izuku is asking of him, because his eyes flick downward- his throat bobbing in a hard, thick swallow as he rasps:
“Him. I want him.” He chokes, gaze flashing to Hitoshi and back; hands twitching hard on the bedspread like he’s nearly dying to grab and touch.
Crimson eyes glide back upward, fixing on his torturer across the room; the tiniest pinprick of fight coming back into them.
“Let me fuck him.” He hisses.
And scene or not, game or not, Hitoshi can’t control the shudder of pure euphoria that cuts up his spine- can’t help the way his cock throbs into the sheets at the thought of it alone; can’t help the pathetic, machine-gun thrum of his heart as the idea of it seeps into his blood like ink into water-
-But Izuku just tilts his head; his eyes narrowing- his expression going cool- his mouth pressing into a flat line.
“Huh. That almost sounds like a demand.” He counters, the corners of his lips just beginning to turn downward-
-And Katsuki, immediately seeing his error, drops his gaze like a dog preparing for a swatting; his head bowing forward in an act of unmistakable submission.
“Shit. Please.” He revises quietly, eyes pinching closed. “Please let me have him.”
He flashes Izuku a single, plaintive glance; blonde brows pitching upward.
“...Baby, please.” He begs.
And it must work- must be exactly what Izuku wanted all along- because the very moment Katsuki says it, Izuku lights up like a star; a look of buzzy contentment overtaking the harshness of the moment before-
-and with that light beaming out of him, he turns, looking down at his boyfriend with a boyish sort of thrall.
“Toshi-?” He asks.
Hitoshi doesn’t blink- doesn’t think.
He knows what Izuku is asking.
And knowing exactly what he wants, his head is suddenly nodding his agreement before he can stop himself, his eyes looking up to find Izuku smiling at him; his eyes crinkling in the corners- shoulders shrugging carelessly.
“Alright.” He croons, settling back into his seat as if he couldn’t care less, a hand waving lazily in their direction.
“Go on, then, Kacchan.” He calls, his pupils widening; a gleam of canine glinting out from the dark.
“Fuck him.”
And there it is.
That’s his cue- his permission.
Hitoshi immediately turns back to Katsuki, his eyes looking up into the crimson ones already boring into him, sucking in a deep breath, and ordering:
“Go.”
The word has barely echoed and the air he’d just taken in is suddenly whipped right back out of him as Katsuki is finally allowed to move; those big arms of his flashing out and laying him flat in half a second- his body, finally set free, crawling forward- hands forcing his legs wide- fingers reaching out and easing out the plug as quickly as he can without causing pain-
-And for once, Hitoshi just lays his head back and lets it happen; lets Katsuki manhandle him- lets himself be thrown around like a rag doll-
-That is, until Izuku’s voice sounds through the air.
“Too fast.” He criticizes softly. “Toshi-?”
And again, he knows exactly what Izuku is asking for; what he wants- what he needs.
“Slow down.” He orders.
And just as quickly as he’d begun, Katsuki begins to slow; the unholy venom in his eyes freezing over into pure ice- flashing with betrayal as he succumbs to the quirk; as he finds himself leashed in an entirely new way.
“I’m gonna fucking murder you.” He whispers under his breath, keeping his voice low so Izuku can’t hear-
-And feeling like a real bastard, Hitoshi smirks up at his beloved Katsuki and twists the knife.
“Slower.” He breathes, grinning up at him.
And sure enough, Katsuki shudders as the quirk flares; the sharp, viper-fast actions of before rolling to a veritable crawl; each limb moving like it’s slogging through mud- holding him fast even as his skin almost buzzes from the desire to move and claim- a low, furious growl building in his throat-
-But Hitoshi’s not too worried, because, if there’s one thing about Katsuki that he can rely on, it’s his willpower.
And unsurprisingly, even with the quirk in full effect, he continues to move after the thing he wants, slow and deliberate and yet, lethal; chasing his desires with that same dogged fury- his eyes blazing- breath labored as he eases himself between Hitoshi’s legs- spreads them wide- lines himself up and begins to press in-
-And after all of the work; the teasing and the waiting and the torturous anticipation, this- being held by Katsuki- being spread wide and pressed into- is like heaven; is almost like coming home.
And then, god, his cock slips in and they both shudder at the same time; a simultaneous sound of relief sighing out of them in tandem; Katsuki hands clinging to him as a low groan rumbles out of his throat- as his eyes roll and his hips shake and everything swells-
-But that soft moment doesn’t last; the honey-thick tension between them suddenly cresting and breaking like a wave.
The need must be too sharp- the anticipation too great- because Katsuki is suddenly yanking him down and thrusting into him deep and hard; the stretch of the plug and added slick of lube doing nothing to prepare him for the sudden, mind-numbing sensation.
Hitoshi moans, sharp and short- surprised- loud; his eyes bugging- hands clinging into the sheets- head throwing back-
-And when he does, he sees, this time with the barest touch of horror, to find that Izuku looks…upset.
“Oh, Kacchan. That’s still too fast.” He frowns, sighing like he’s frustrated. “You just can’t behave, can you?”
Emerald eyes flick his way.
“Toshi. Hold him still.”
Katsuki’s hands grip- he sucks in a gasp- breathes out a soft, nearly-inaudible ‘no-!’
But unfortunately, Hitoshi is duty-bound- made a promise- and so, even though it figuratively kills him, he obeys.
“Don’t move.” He breathes, hating every word.
Katsuki's limbs suddenly go rigid once more; his body still- his cock sinfully hot and dizzyingly hard inside Hitoshi’s body as the quirk flares to life-
-And even though he can’t move, he can still speak.
“No.” He breathes, trying to move his hands- his hips- his head; wriggling in vain against the invisible force holding him. “No no no- fuck- fuck-!”
And to Hitoshi’s surprise, Izuku, sweet, sweet Izuku, actually chuckles from his seat; not his usual, sparkling laugh, but something dark- something macabre.
“You got what you wanted, Kacchan. This is what you wanted, right?” He asks, gesturing toward them lazily. “You wanted to fuck him. You’re fucking him.”
And despite the plans- the in-depth conversations on limits- the days’ worth of negotiating and scheming- it’s then- seeing Izuku like that- that the game becomes clear- that Hitoshi realizes why he’d asked for this.
This is the sort of thing that Hitoshi and Katsuki have done to him a million times; the sort of sadistic shit that they all get off on- and now, Izuku is getting a taste of his own-
-And Hitoshi isn’t sure if it’s the wild expression on his face or the dark look in his eyes, but he suddenly feels something new for him- something he rarely feels for anyone: a burning desire to obey- an unstoppable urge to please.
Because, surprising as it is- different as it is- he can admit that Izuku is sort of amazing at this. A secret sleeper hit of a dom.
And perhaps Katsuki feels the same way or is just reaching the end of his rope, because, for once, he doesn’t argue or snarl or fight or whine, no, he just looks across the room with the biggest, widest eyes and whispers:
“Izuku.”
It’s gentle. It’s soft. It’s the kiss of cotton on cool skin, and no matter how unaffected he’d tried to be thus far, Hitoshi doesn’t miss the suck of breath from those soft lips- the sudden grip of scarred hands on the armrests- the fire-flicker of desire in dark, emerald eyes.
And from just those tiny hints alone, he can see all too well that it’s affecting him.
But even so, Izuku recovers quickly; his face returning to careful neutrality.
“Be good and you’ll get more.” He offers, his voice sounding oddly choked; his tone going thin-
-And probably knowing that he needs to get back in character, he turns away from his Kacchan, looking back to Hitoshi.
“Toshi-?” He calls. “Can you ride him for me?”
Katsuki makes a soft sound- a moan that’s equal parts desire and devastation-
-And years of domming aside- years of experience aside- Hitoshi feels a shiver curl up his spine, dragging upwards bone by bone until the hair on the back of his neck is standing at full attention.
Oh, fuck.
He swallows hard and then-
“-Of course.” He responds, not bothering to care how breathless he sounds- how wrecked- how undone. He turns back to Katsuki.
“On your back, love.” He whispers.
And unable to really do anything else, Katsuki obeys the order; pulling himself out of Hitoshi with a hiss and a whine, his movements halting and hesitant, before laying flat on his back- spread on the bed like a prize.
And were he the one in charge, he’d probably take an extra moment to enjoy it; to admire and touch and savor-
-But Izuku gave an order and he has to follow, so he forces himself to continue.
“Hands at your sides.” He adds, watching with a sudden thrill as Katsuki’s hands fly down to the bedspread, fingertips gripping in hard.
And without anything else to do, he crawls forward, climbs into his lap, straddles him, and slowly, carefully sinks himself down.
Heat. Stretch.
Pleasure. Pressure.
Katsuki’s rough, low voice cracking and getting more raw by the moment as Hitoshi slowly rides him; raises his hips and rocks down the slick length of him inch by inch- grinding into him- teasing him cruelly.
And it is a tease, because it’s only been a few minutes and Katsuki is already squirming beneath him- has already been thrown to the edge and pulled back more than once-
And better still, he doesn’t appear to be the only one.
No, even Izuku finally seems to be affected by it; his clothes incrementally peeling from his body and fluttering to the ground with every new gasp and twist from his lover’s prone body; his temples going damp with sweat- his cock hard and insistent between his legs- every new movement and breath and expression only showing that he, too, is getting close to his limit- that the moment of no return is approaching fast-
-And Hitoshi drinks it in- inhales it like oxygen- revels in the fact that he’s the one pulling them both in; tightening the tension winch by winch- steadily breaking them both down-
-And just when he thinks it, it happens.
He feels that Katsuki is getting close- another orgasm approaching (the sounds and signs nearly second nature at this point), and still not given permission to let him come, he ceases his movement- sits back on his heels-
-And after being denied so many times- teased and taunted and chipped away into nothing- Katsuki finally breaks.
“Fuck- baby- baby-!” He shouts, loud and wrecked and pitiful- his voice breaking- eyes finally beginning to go damp with frustration.
Hitoshi can hear the delicate gasp of wonder from behind him, the feeling mirrored in his own chest, because not even in their deepest scenes has Katsuki ever sounded like this- let go like this- been so vulnerable-
-And probably knowing all too well the weight of what he’s doing- the sheer gravity of what he’s giving- Katsuki looks at his torturer- his lover- opens his mouth, and wails.
“Izuku- Izuku-!” He cries, pathetic and broken, fighting against the hold until his muscles bulge- until his veins pop- until he’s panting from the effort- his voice splintering like wood-
-And that must be it; what Izuku wants- what Izuku’s been waiting for all along- because, in an instant- in the blink of an eye- Izuku is simply there; his makeshift throne abandoned and left to go cold as he immediately comes to the side of the bed and scrambles onto it- the uncharacteristic heaviness gone from his eyes- the iron evaporated from his voice- the casual indifference erased entirely as the Izuku he knows and loves returns with a vengeance- every part of him radiating safety and security as he slides himself beneath Katsuki’s body.
“It’s okay, Kacchan.” He coos, his voice like a balm as he props Katsuki’s head onto his thighs. “You’re okay. You’re doing so good.” He praises gently, reaching down and taking his hands into his own. “So good.”
And despite everything, for a moment, Hitoshi goes still; watching in awe as Izuku curls himself around his Kacchan- cradling one of the most dangerous men in Japan in his lap like a child; his hands petting him around his flushed, ruddy cheeks- that gentle voice soothing him softly- whispering loving words into his ears and comforting him in the way that only Izuku can.
And in an instant, the twisted, borderline-sadistic aura of the moment before is gone; replaced by a sense of safety- of affection- of warmth and adoration-
-And god, it’s beautiful.
And with Katsuki pacified, Izuku resumes the scene; continuing to breathe out commands in a tender voice.
Faster. Slower. Deeper.
Grab his hair. Touch his chest. Right there, Toshi.
And Hitoshi obeys without question- does exactly as he’s told; ignoring the deep ache that begins to burn in his legs- his heart nearly bursting from the unexpected intimacy that ricochets between them; his untouched cock throbbing against his abs as he, at Izuku’s behest, ignores the desires of his own body and takes Katsuki slow and deep.
And held still by the quirk, Katsuki can do nothing but take it- can do nothing but lay his head in Izuku’s lap and submit; his eyes widening as a few tendrils of Blackwhip begin to seep from the backs of Izuku’s hands: one tying around each wrist and holding him tight- another gently wrapping around the sides of his neck and beginning to slowly, gently squeeze-
-And for a moment, he goes taut like a rope set to snap; his mouth choking over a breath- body going deathly still- eyes flashing up to Izuku with an expression that’s equal parts excited and frightened.
“Deku-” He croaks-
“-I’m right here.” Izuku assures him, his voice like an angel’s; his words radiating safety and assurance and the promise of refuge. “I’ve got you, Kacchan. I’ve got you.”
And quick as that fear had appeared, it leaves; Katsuki melting down into the bed- into Izuku’s touch- his eyes gliding shut as he surrenders himself-
-And Hitoshi isn’t too proud to admit that it chokes him up; that the connection between them is something extraordinary- that watching the two of them like this is a gift within itself.
After all, Izuku has always been Katsuki’s sanctuary- his rock- his North Star- and this is no exception. Katsuki trusts him with his pleasure- with his body- with his life- and giving into that trust, he says nothing more in response; laying his head back and submitting to his lover’s will.
And for a few minutes, that’s where they remain; the three of them tumbling hand-in-hand into a dream-like space in time- violet eyes watching in utter rapture as the man he loves begins to unravel below him; his jaw clenching hard- hands twitching and squeezing into Izuku’s palms- head thrashing where it lay- cheeks going pink from the delicious pressure around his neck- his body pushed to the limit- his mind at the very brink- the slow, torturous build of pleasure so mind-meltingly good that after a while, he even stops making sound altogether; his limbs trembling heavily under the weight of Hitoshi’s body- quaking like rocks ready to tumble- his gorgeous, crimson eyes growing ever-hazier and beginning to go wet at the sides-
-And then, after being denied god knows how many times (Six? Seven? Eight-?? )-
-It happens.
He sucks in a ragged breath- looks up at Izuku- clutches his hands with enough force to bruise-
-and like watching glass shatter, Katsuki slips- he falls-
-and it breaks across his eyes nearly in slow motion- like watercolors spreading across the page- painting itself into reality like the first brushstroke of a masterpiece.
And as Hitoshi watches, transfixed, the tears that had slowly been growing and swelling in the corners of his ruby eyes finally, blessedly fall; the drops gliding elegantly down the sides of his face- his irises going buttery-soft- every muscle and tendon going lax at once as Katsuki visibly crosses that line- as the thread snaps and world stops and he flutters like paper down into space.
And he’s seen it before, sure- but it’s not something they do often, and god, never like this.
In fact, in all their time together, it’s something they’ve done less than a half-dozen times- something special and monumental; extraordinary- the emotions so intense- the plunge so deep-
-And immediately brought to his knees by it, Hitoshi finds himself slowing to a stop; his chest swelling- heart thundering- mouth croakily whispering:
“Oh my god.” He looks up. “Izuku.”
But Izuku is not looking at him- no- no, he’s looking at his Kacchan- staring at his Kacchan- gaping at his Kacchan like the world begins and ends with him- like he is the moon and the sun and the stars all at once- like he’s a not a man, but some sort of god-
-And almost on cue, Katsuki slowly tilts his chin to meet those shining, verdant eyes; his voice wobbly and wet- ardent and loving as he calls:
“Deku.” A heavy swallow. A harsh shudder that ripples his body from head to toe.
“De- Izu- De-ku-” He breathes, lost and hazy and floating in the space between-
-And in an instant, something falls- drips onto his flushed, ecstatic face-
-And when Hitoshi looks up again, he finds that Izuku is silently crying, too; tears dripping out of bleary, loving eyes- every part of him radiating with joy- with unbridled ecstasy as he breathes:
“Kacchan.” Another round of tears. “Oh, Kacchan.”
A hazy quirk of lips. A soupy breath of utter bliss.
“De-ku-” He hums in return, nuzzling into him.
And then, a smile; blinding- beautiful- one that puts the sun itself to utter shame as Izuku caresses his damp face in his hands- brushes away his tears- leaning close and whispering:
“Can I-?” He warbles. “-Can I, Kacchan?”
A slow, syrupy nod.
“Yeah.”
And in this moment, nobody needs to tell him what to do- nobody needs to explain- because he immediately knows that Izuku is asking- what Katsuki is granting- and in an instant, Hitoshi is nearly tearing himself away; forcing himself to endure the uncomfortable sensation of Katsuki’s thick, hard cock slipping out of him as retreats to the far side of the bed, giving Izuku and Katsuki their space- watching from the sidelines as Izuku pulls himself out from beneath him-
-and in an instant, he’s around him- under him- putting himself between his spread, shaking legs; prying them apart with his hands, gently pulling the plug out of him, and plunging himself inside him in a smooth, firm thrust-
-and the simultaneous, breathless sound of utter gratification- of unfiltered passion that comes out of them both is like music; high and loud and spine-tingling.
And it’s then, watching them from the side of the bed like a voyeur, that Hitoshi suddenly realizes that he’s seeing something entirely new.
They’ve fucked a thousand times at this point: he with Izuku- he with Katsuki- them with each other- all of them in every which way, and yet, his heart nearly stops when he sees Izuku bury himself inside his Kacchan, because, to the best of his knowledge, Izuku’s never topped him before-
(-at least, not since they’d all gotten together-)
-And were the universe his to control, he’d stop time itself if only just to take it in; to breathe it into his lungs like air- to hold it in his palms and treasure it-
-But, to his dismay, the universe is not his- the scene is not his.
It’s Izuku’s. It’s theirs. And now it’s happening- he’s seeing it; is watching, his heart nearly hammering out of his ribs, as Izuku sinks deep inside him until he’s bottomed out; holding his Kacchan like he’s afraid that he’ll run or bend or break.
But he only gets to observe for a moment before Izuku turns to him with flushed cheeks and a soft smile, his voice like silk as he softly whispers:
“Let him go.”
And half out of his mind with affection for him- with admiration and lust and love- he’s speaking before he even thinks.
“Let go, Katsuki.”
The responding sound of breathless relief that comes out of Katsuki nearly breaks his heart; his chest swelling with wonder as those wide, thick arms, finally set free, begin to move again; wrapping around Izuku’s neck- pulling him close until their mouths are slotting in a messy, wild kiss- Katsuki’s legs wrapping possessively around his waist as they begin to gently roll together.
And god, it’s a sight.
Izuku, so often a baby- a pet- the perfect sub- is suddenly so big- so commanding- so damn strong; every inch of him radiating pure power in a way that sends chills up his back- that makes the hair on his arms rise-
-And though he’d never admit it, seeing it for himself makes him suddenly feel so incredibly empty; his untouched cock throbbing in sympathy- his body mourning the absence of that heat inside him-
-And as he watches, he quietly adds this particular fantasy to his bucket list- trying his best to burn this memory into the back of his head.
Katsuki’s hands tangling, beautiful and desperate, into the tangled mop of his curls as Izuku pounds him hard and sure.
Izuku’s eyes fixed- his pupils blown wide and black; his freckles nearly disappeared into the flush of his cheeks- the attention and adoration in his expression thick enough to taste as he holds his Kacchan like a lover- batters away at him stroke by stroke- guides him by the neck into wordless pleasure as he moans and whimpers into his lips- shakes like the world is crumbling-
-And sure enough, within minutes, the inevitable arrives; Katsuki ripping his mouth away from Izuku’s- clutching him until the blunt edges of his nails dig into thick, scarred shoulders- his words cracking and weak as he whimpers:
“Izu-ku- com-coming-” Katsuki rasps, his words so fucked-out that they’re barely discernable; abs twitching- muscles clenching- cock drooling obscenely where it rests.
And for a moment, Hitoshi absently wonders if he’ll deny him again- if he would be so cruel-
-But to his relief- to his pleasure- Izuku just beams at him like he’s never loved him so much; spreading his legs wide, hiking up his hips, and driving into him with a force that would break a lesser man.
“I know. It’s okay.” He whispers; ardent and loving and utterly captivated. “I want you to.”
He reaches up with one hand, tilting Katsuki’s chin until their eyes meet.
“Come for me, Kacchan.” He breathes, their noses nuzzling together- lips brushing. “Let me feel you, love. Wanna feel you.”
Katsuki moans in response- gasps- writhes- and then, his back arches and his hands grip and his eyes pinch closed and suddenly, he’s coming all over himself; every limb jerking hard as Izuku guides him through it- sounds of delirious pleasure ripping out of him; moans and cries and breathy, little noises that make Hitoshi feel half-crazed.
And Izuku, looking almost high on it; just stares down at the man he loves like he’s unraveling the world’s mysteries; something awed and beautiful and borderline-obsessive shining in his eyes as he breathlessly whispers:
“Beautiful, Kacchan. Beautiful. ”
Still shaking from aftershocks, Katsuki looks up at him with hazy, half-lidded eyes- unable to manage more than a weak, wavering:
"Yeah-?”
Izuku leans down to him, caging him into the circle of those thick, scarred arms; holding him tight and pressing soft, loving kisses wherever he can reach.
“Yes. Perfect.” He breathes.
“Mm.” Katsuki hums in response, high on endorphins and gooey with pleasure, his back stretching out like a cat in the sun-
-And seeing the peace in his features, Izuku beams.
He looks thrilled- sated- like he’d run a hundred miles and had only just crossed the finish line; his soft, pretty features incrementally going lax with pleasure- gooey with emotion-
-And Hitoshi understands the feeling well. There are few true joys like the one you feel after putting a partner successfully into space; few instances in life where you feel so strong- so big- so complete.
And truthfully, he expects Izuku to bask in it, at least for a while-
-But to his surprise, he doesn’t, because after a only few languid moments of afterglow, he straightens himself, looks over his shoulder, and orders:
“Toshi. Now.”
A shock, sure, but this was always part of the plan- those words the agreed-upon cue to start the second part of Izuku’s birthday treat-
-And Hitoshi isn’t about to drop a line.
His heart barely even gets out a single beat and he’s suddenly lunging- rounding on him like a predator going for the neck- a shark smelling blood; his big, ringed hands gripping into him- one at the hip and one at the nape of his neck as he forces him down.
A switch is instantly flipped.
“Oh- ohh-!!” Izuku moans, letting his body be moved- no doubt feeling Hitoshi’s hard, aching cock against the cleft of his ass.
And following their script to the letter, Hitoshi leans down, turns his voice to ice, and hisses:
“Shut. Up.”
It’s harsh. It’s mean. It sends a shiver rocketing through Izuku from head to toe, just as it should.
“Toshi-!” He gasps, rutting backward against him.
But there is no mercy here; no more patience- no more obedience. The words have been said and the page has been turned and this is Hitoshi’s space now- his scene- his world to command.
“Tie your wrists together.” He orders.
And in an instant, there are tendrils of Blackwhip coming out of Izuku’s hands, wrapping around his wrists in a hard, unforgiving tie.
“Spread your legs.” He hisses through his teeth. "Keep them open."
Again, two more tendrils; these two shooting out to wrap harshly around his knees and splay him wide- leaving him completely on display- completely immobile; showing off that gorgeous, thick ass, the plug lodged deep inside it, and best, his cock, still hard, where it remains inside Katsuki’s body.
And suddenly inspired by the sight before him and admittedly feeling more than a little wicked, he adds:
“And don’t you dare pull out. ”
Katsuki, still riding the afterglow and floating in space, makes a quiet sound of approval.
But Izuku’s eyes pop wide. He gasps- shivers- and then moans high and breathy and bright-
-And sensing that he needs to do a quick check-in before beginning the next part of the scene, Hitoshi leans over him- his lips brushing the shell of his ear as he whispers:
“Green, baby-?”
He can just barely see the upturned corners of Izuku’s mouth through his curls.
“Green.” He responds. “Super green.”
And like that, he can begin.
So he brings himself up tall, squares his shoulders, and plucks the first petal.
“Did you like that, Izuku?” He asks, reaching down and teasing a finger around the rim of his ass where it’s stretched wide around the toy, watching with amusement as the sensitive skin twitches and flutters. “-Bossing us around? Getting what you wanted?”
A hard, audible swallow.
“Yes.” He responds obediently.
“-Making me do your dirty work-?” Hitoshi adds, fingers fastening around the edge of the plug.
Izuku gasps.
“-Yes.”
“That’s what I thought.” He croons, carefully twisting it.
“Now, did you like torturing your Kacchan? Breaking him down? Did you enjoy yourself-?” He asks, gently sliding the plug free; watching with wild excitement as his entire, beautiful body shivers from the top of his curls to the tips of his toes- his perfect ass, now empty, gaping open in front of him like a treasure.
“Yes-!” He cries, voice already beginning to crack.
And perhaps it’s the sight- the sound- the knowledge that this man, who only moments ago had been so powerful and commanding, is now tied and helpless at his feet- but something suddenly flips in his head; every last, remaining drop of that obedient persona melting away under the sudden, pressing, burning need to claim- to push and press and take.
His voice is a purr.
“Did you like teasing me?” He asks darkly, wetting his fingers on his tongue before reaching down and abruptly sliding two of them into his ass. “Denying me?”
“Ohh-! ” Izuku moans, head falling forward- eyes rolling- hips trembling.
And yes, it’s nice- pretty- but he’s asked a question and after everything Izuku has put him through, he is not about to tolerate any disobedience.
A hand raises and comes down on that thick ass almost by instinct- a crack ringing loudly through the air- his voice sharp and dangerous like an unsheathed razor.
“Answer me.” He snarls.
And brought forcibly back to reality, Izuku jolts; squeezing hard around the fingers inside him- toes curling- his mouth sputtering out a quick, breathy:
“Yes- yes-!”
A dark, lascivious smirk.
“Well, now it’s my turn.” Hitoshi whispers, fingers beginning to steadily pump inside him. “It’s my turn and I’m going to give you exactly what you deserve- gonna make you pay for being so bad- gonna fuck you stupid-”
And getting increasingly high on it- the power- the control- the way Izuku’s limbs twitch and writhe under Blackwhip’s hold, he doesn’t bother to temper the breathless, sadistic excitement from his voice.
“-Fuck-,” He breathes, “-I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you, baby.”
Izuku whimpers, his entire body trembling- ass clenching around his hand- head turning to look at him with a gorgeous, wrecked expression; eyes already wide and round and innocent like a lamb that knows that it’s being sent to slaughter.
“Toshi-” He croaks-
“-Gag yourself. ” He returns, a sick thrill surging through his veins as another ribbon of Blackwhip shoots out to clamp down around that pretty, bitten mouth- between his teeth- cutting off his moan at the ankles until nothing remains but a soft, muffled whine.
“There we go.” He smirks, leaning down over him- one hand reaching around to grip him at his chest, the other thrusting into him, steady and slow, a third finger slipping in beside the first two. “Isn’t he pretty, Katsuki?” He asks.
And having watched silently up until now and still floating in nirvana, Katsuki looks up at him with a soft, blissful expression; his mouth twisting boyishly at the sides.
“Yeah. Pretty.” He agrees, his smile deepening as Izuku makes a weak sound of pleasure.
Hitoshi grins.
“That’s right. Now-” He addresses Izuku sharply.
“-I don’t want to hear another fucking word.” He croons, leaning close and nuzzling against his neck. “You’ve talked enough, don’t you think? Bossy little brat.”
Izuku whimpers around his gag; hands balling into tight fists.
“That’s right.” He hisses. “Now shut your mouth and take what you get.”
A few minutes pass, thick and hot; Hitoshi’s fingers paying homage to his chest with one hand- the brutal thrust of the other forcing Izuku’s cock in and out of Katsuki’s ass-
-And Izuku, fucking and being fucked all at once, is trapped in the middle; his limbs bound- words swallowed- unable to fight against Hitoshi’s cruel rhythm- the wet, velvet heat of Katsuki’s body- the pleasure that steadily begins to sizzle below his skin like water creeping up the sides of a dam- like a lit fuse making its way towards its inevitable explosion-
-And after all of the tedious, torturous foreplay- the mind games and the cooed words and the demands-?
Izuku looks about ready to shatter; his body drawn tight as it rocks forward into the slick tightness around his cock and then back pitifully against the stretch of the hand inside him- his soft, lovely mouth making pathetic, broken sounds that threaten to melt Hitoshi’s brain-
-And just when Hitoshi feels like he can take no more- like he’s the one who’s going to break- Izuku, sweet, obedient boy he is, looks over his shoulder with a strained, almost panicked expression, his emerald eyes wide and wet and beseeching- mouth whining out an urgent, unintelligible question- every sign and signal telling Hitoshi that he is pleading- begging to come.
And feeling unexpectedly magnanimous, he angles his fingertips, hits the perfect spot, and growls:
“Do it.”
Izuku’s limbs go taut- his eyes pop wide- his mouth opening into a loud, muffled cry as his entire body seizes-
-And suddenly, green lightning is flickering over his limbs- the entire world slowing to a stop as Izuku shatters in front of his eyes; spilling into Katsuki with a strangled scream that shakes his very soul-
-And cruel master that he is, Hitoshi doesn’t stop- doesn’t slow- doesn’t let up at all.
No, he keeps going; his hand thrusting in again and again, pushing him harder and harder, fingers punching against his prostate until his body collapses into Katsuki’s arms- until he can barely hold up his head- until the only sounds that come out of him are pathetic little cries of delirium.
And feeling victorious- feeling generous- he releases him; pulling his fingers out and wiping his damp brow with the back of his hand before leaning in and crooning:
“Now, say ‘thank you.’”
The order overrides the previous one; the drool-slick ribbon of Blackwhip that had gagged him suddenly evaporating into the air; the muffled sounds of pleasure replaced by rasping, ragged breaths.
“Thank you.” He croaks on command, his sweet voice like sandpaper as he swallows hard over air; his head looking back over his shoulder with an expression perched somewhere between devotion and devastation.
“Thank you, Toshi-,” He repeats, bleary and weak, every inch of him shaking like a leaf. “Thank you, love.”
And yes, it’s sweet- polite and lovely-
-and yet.
“Oh, what, you think I’m done-?” Hitoshi asks deviously, tilting his head at him in amusement, eyes going dangerously narrow. “Oh no. No no no. Not even close, baby.”
The soft haze of afterglow suddenly snaps like a twig under a boot; an apprehensive sort of shock glinting into blissed-out, emerald eyes- his soft, lovely lips suddenly frowning and asking:
“-What-?? ” He chokes, searching him nervously. “How many-?”
Hitoshi holds up a hand; a wordless bid for silence- a gesture that has Izuku’s mouth snapping shut like a trained pet.
“Hm.” He hums, eyes raking him. “Let’s think, shall we?”
He reaches down, ringed hands clasping around the nip of his waist as he angles himself behind him; his hard, long-neglected cock pressing against his ass.
“Now, how many times did we deny Katsuki?” He asks, low and dangerous, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “Seven? Eight?”
And sensing the danger and knowing all too well what’s coming, Izuku gasps- whimpers- and then, shakes as the tip of Hitoshi’s cock kisses against him.
“Let’s start there.” He grins, gripping him hard around the hips and thrusting in.
Izuku arches hard- his eyes bugging- mouth letting out a shocked, wrecked sound of mindless pleasure as Hitoshi's cock bottoms out- as he’s forced balls-deep inside Katsuki.
“Oh, fuuuuck.” Katsuki groans, legs spreading wide to make space- hands reaching up and digging into green curls- spent cock beginning to steadily harden once more.
And riding high on it like a king on a throne, Hitoshi leans close to him, kisses his flushed cheek, and whispers:
“Happy birthday, baby.”
And with that, he turns to the camera, throws it a wink, and begins the next step in what he’s sure is going to be a very long, very fun, very memorable evening.
America is not what Denki expected.
The assignment had been much glamorized when it was proposed to him; was presented as an opportunity to network- to see the world- to make new friends and try new food and experience the culture-
-Which, so far, has proved to be a huge pile of bullshit.
Hell, ever since his plane had landed in California, it had been nothing but hard, hard work; had been morning after morning of working as little more than a walking, talking battery- afternoons of helping clean up after forest fires and rockslides and earthquakes- evenings of meetings and hours of paperwork-
-And today is no exception.
The entire morning had been spent responding to one crisis after another, and even now, it’s barely lunch, and god, he’s already exhausted.
But, even as tired as he is, he, at the very least, has something to look forward to, because tomorrow is his day off- the first in almost a week- and some of the American heroes had promised to take him out on the town; had promised drinks and shopping- margaritas and authentic Mexican food- and as childish as it might be, he can admit to himself that he’s actually excited.
After all, it’s a nice gesture- a promise of fun- and so, he clings to it with both hands, sighing out loud as he tosses the keys onto his bedside table and flops down face-first onto the sheets to take a quick nap before his afternoon shift begins.
For a few minutes, that’s where he remains; his cheek pressed firmly into the comforter- nose inhaling the scent of clean sheets and fabric softener- slowly, but surely starting to nod off-
-When his phone suddenly, unexpectedly pings.
He opens his eyes.
He knows the sound. That’s a text- a personal message; definitely not a notification from work.
And too curious to let it pass, he raises his head slowly, blonde hair falling messily into his eyes as he tilts his chin to blearily look at the clock.
Noon.
Huh.
Which means that whoever is texting him from Japan right now is texting him…at four in the morning.
And that- the idea of somebody in Japan- hell, not just somebody, but one of his friends or maybe one of his boyfriends- texting him at that hour of the night is enough to pull him upright- to shock the sleep from his eyes; a sudden pang of anxiety sending electricity sparking at his fingertips.
He reaches for his phone- hands already trembling- prepared for the worst-
-Only to find, not an emergency, but a long, cute, emoji-laden text from Izuku.
[Zu:] Hey, baby! 😘😘
I’m so sorry you’re still stuck in the States! I wish I could be there with you! 😣
We’re all missing you like crazy and can’t wait to have you back at home! 😍
Kacchan and Toshi aren’t nearly as fun without you! 😜
Also, thank you for the birthday flowers, btw, they were so beautiful!! 🥹❤️
And for a moment, Denki isn’t sure how to respond. It’s sweet, yes- makes his heart leap and his mouth curl up into a sappy smile, sure-
-But yesterday was Izuku’s birthday, and as far as he knows, there wasn’t any big party planned; nothing but a nice dinner and the video call they’d all had last night before he’d gone to bed.
So why is he texting at this hour? He should definitely be asleep already- there’s no way Katsuki would let him stay up like this-
-And sure enough, as soon as he thinks it, another text rolls in that answers his questions for him.
[Zu:] Soooooo 😏
Since I had the day off, I did what you suggested and brought up that little fantasy of yours for my birthday treat- and omg, they went for it!! 😍 You’re a genius, baby! 😉
Honestly, it was absolutely perfect. I don’t even think I can walk right now. 🙈
Thank you so much for giving me the idea! What would I do without you??? 🥺
Also, check your email.
This treat was too good not to share. 😚
Love you!!
Xoxo,
Zu ♥️♥️♥️♥️
Denki stares at the screen of his phone.
He reads the text. He reads it again.
And then, halfway through the third read-through, it clicks.
His suggestion.
His suggestion!
The one that the two of them had come up with on a whim a few weeks ago when Toshi and Kacchan were out on night shift together- the one that had started so innocently (just an idea!); the one that had turned them both on so much just by talking about it that they’d ended up fucking right there on the living room sofa-
-The one that he’d thought of nearly every night since he’d been away- the one that he’d pictured in the shower as he touched himself- spilling over his hand, his voice echoing damply off of the wet tile-
-And apparently, Izuku- his brave, beautiful Zu- had actually told Hitoshi and Katsuki about it- and even better, had actually gone through with it-!
He swallows hard; his mouth beginning to immediately water at just the thought of it- his imagination running away with him-
-Only, at the last second, for a single line from Izuku’s text to jut out at him, halting him in his tracks before he can lose his head.
Check your email.
He doesn’t hesitate.
In half a breath, he’s swiping away from his texts and opening his personal email-
-And sure enough, there’s a message waiting there from Izuku, the subject line simply reading For Denki-’ the email empty save for a single attachment at the bottom- one he readily clicks.
And there, laying back against his pillows, he begins to watch as the video begins: golden eyes widening as Izuku showily sets up the camera; throwing soft, meaningful, seductive little looks into it like the shameless exhibitionist that he is as Hitoshi and Katsuki prepare themselves on the other side of the bed- taking turns gently fingering each other open and slipping matching plugs inside one another before turning and doing the same to Izuku-
-And there’s something incredibly intimate about it; something spine-meltingly hot about seeing behind the curtain like this.
Hell, he only has to watch for a minute and he’s already rock-hard and aching- already reaching down into his pants-
-And just as his hand has wrapped around himself, a soft hiss escaping his lips-?
That’s when Izuku looks right into the frame, smiles, and whispers:
“Let’s begin.”
And Denki, ever a slave to the whims of his gorgeous boyfriends, leans back, strokes himself slowly, and surrenders himself to Izuku’s command.
Happy birthday, baby.