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Maybe he should have listened to his mother and not spent all his money on a car, using it instead for a house, but Katsuki has never really been one to pay much attention to his dear mother. The investment in Izuku’s costume had ruined his bank account, even though he was well-paid; he worked long and hard, and the ad campaigns brought in good money. But that damn Porsche was his dream, and if that meant he had to share an apartment at the age of 25, he’d do it.
Not many people know this; he’s preferred to keep it a secret out of pride and to protect his reputation. In fact, it’s pretty common among his group of friends. Maybe because of money, or maybe because of the traumas of war, many of them feel more comfortable that way.
Actually, his first choice was to live with his best friends, but after a month of living with Eijiro and Denki, Katsuki was forced to beg Hanta to get him out of there. And everyone knows Katsuki doesn’t beg. Everything would have been better if Hanta had been with them, but he was living happily with his gorgeous half-ice, half-fire boyfriend, which really pissed Katsuki off.
But it was Shoto who helped him out of his situation. It was Shoto who told him that Hitoshi was looking for a roommate.
Honestly, when Shoto said that name, everything seemed to fall perfectly into place for him. Hitoshi was a very good friend of his—a calm, hardworking, methodical, and tidy guy who usually worked nights, which meant there was no chance he’d disrupt Katsuki’s strict sleep schedule. He was actually a little embarrassed that he hadn’t known his friend was looking for a place to live. He was sure Hitoshi must have mentioned it during one of their nights out at a bar, and he just hadn’t been paying attention. Or maybe Hitoshi never said anything—just like him, Hitoshi had always been pretty reserved.
Katsuki could finally focus on himself. He’d keep working on improving as a hero, growing his agency, making the world a better place, becoming a better person…
Yeah, he could focus on all that if his dick didn’t jump to attention every morning when he saw Hitoshi walking around their apartment.
He always woke up at the usual time, the time Hitoshi got home from his shift. Katsuki wasn’t much of a talker in the morning, and Hitoshi wasn’t much of a talker in general, so they’d both greet each other with a grunt when Hitoshi walked in the door, and Katsuki made himself some coffee.
Everything was normal until Hitoshi had the brilliant idea to reappear, wearing nothing but sweatpants, sagging too low on his hips. His purple hair fell across his face, and his eyes were marked with smudged black shadow. Plus, if that night had been tougher than usual, there might be a bandage on his side, a bruise, or marks on his arms from the strain of his weapon. Just what’s happening right now. Hitoshi walks past the open kitchen in their apartment, moving slowly, looking tired, rubbing his right shoulder where a bruise is visible. Katsuki can’t see any more because his friend is behind him, but he could swear he saw some marks on his neck, maybe from his weapon or from his hands or…
Katsuki has to sit on the stool in their kitchen, clenching his legs so tightly he’s afraid he’ll break his dick, sipping his coffee, pretending to be focused on his phone while the other guy moves around him, preparing something to eat.
At another time, his old self perhaps would have stupidly yelled at him to put on some clothes, which would have made his annoyance clear. But Katsuki was trying to leave that part of himself behind. Although after three months of living together, it’s getting harder and harder —like his dick—, and more than once, he’s had to just run out of the room for fear that Hitoshi would discover how hard he was.
Because that’s another thing… Hitoshi and his sharp purple eyes are staring at him. They’re staring at Katsuki as much as Katsuki is staring at him. Which is a lot, because he knows Hitoshi’s size—they shared a bathroom as teenagers—but what Hitoshi has between his legs has grown along with everything else, and Katsuki can now see the size of the bulge even though he’s relaxed. Thoughts that get worse when he hears Denki’s voice in his head saying, “I could barely fit it all in my mouth,” and everyone knows just how deep Denki Kaminari’s throat is.
Katsuki lets out a sigh, mentally cursing his sparky friend as he scratches the scar on his chest through his T-shirt. Because that damn thing always itches when he’s stressed, like a reminder that his heart stopped for a few minutes.
“You okay?”
Maybe focusing too much on work is making this whole situation worse. If he’d at least made time to find someone to fuck, he wouldn’t be on the verge of exploding in his pants right now as Hitoshi looks at him through his long lashes, with that perpetually tired gaze, accentuated by the black shadow he hasn’t wiped away yet, while sitting on the stool next to the kitchen counter.
“Yeah, fine,” he replies, trying not to sound annoyed, though he doesn’t quite manage it. The good thing is that Hitoshi has never taken offense at Katsuki’s brusque replies.
“You look tired. Are you sleeping poorly?”
Well, technically no. But for the past five days, he’s been falling asleep later than usual while jerking off wildly, moaning his damn roommate’s name with his biggest dildo stuck up his ass.
“No, just a lot of work,” he mutters, and Hitoshi responds with a nod as he finishes his sandwich.
Katsuki keeps trying to focus on his phone, just like his friend. Luckily, he’s managing it, so he doesn’t realize that Katsuki has his eyes fixed on him, watching how he lazily scratches the back of his neck. The nape of his neck; another distraction for Katsuki. Hitoshi had had the brilliant idea to get a haircut a month ago. The messy shoulder-length hair had given way to a shaved nape and a lot of hair in the front that occasionally covered his eyes. That undercut was about to make Katsuki’s heart stop beating again. If he closes his eyes, he can imagine the beads of sweat running down there while—
“You’re not working today, right?” Hitoshi says after a while as he gets up and clears away his dinner-breakfast, thankfully interrupting Katsuki’s thoughts as he moves uncomfortably due to the erection in his crotch.
“I have paperwork, but I’ll do it from here.”
“Great,” he replies, barely enthusiastic. Katsuki turns and sees that his friend has a small smile, making his eyes look even more narrowed. “I’m off today, too. How about we spend the afternoon playing video games?”
“Sounds good.” Despite everything, Katsuki really needs a quiet day off. He mentally checks his schedule to see if he can actually afford a free afternoon, until Hitoshi walks past him, giving him a little squeeze on the shoulder, startling him.
“Alright, I’m going to take a shower and get some sleep. Good night.”
He waves goodbye with a quick wave of his hand, and Katsuki can only watch him go, his gaze tracing his bare back, from his defined shoulder blades to the low curve of his lower back, ending at those dimples peeking out from the waistband of his pants.
His cock throbs.
Damn it.
With a frustrated sigh, he slumps against the countertop, pressing his cheek against the cold surface to calm himself.
He’s so fucked.
“There’s no way you’re that bad,” Hitoshi chuckles when he sees that Katsuki has lost again.
“I’m not bad, Eyebags, this damn game is just poorly designed.”
“Wow, I thought Kacchan Bakugo was good at everything.”
Katsuki kicks him; because they are sitting on the couch, Hitoshi can’t dodge it, so he covers himself with an arm while chuckling softly. Katsuki feels his face burning and turns it away so Hitoshi can’t see how red he is. He doesn’t regret that phrase at that moment, but the fact that his friends keep using it against him should undoubtedly be considered a form of abuse.
“Okay, okay, angry kitty.” Right now, Katsuki has to restrain himself from running away because his face is close to reaching temperatures similar to those on Shoto Todoroki’s right side. Despite that, when he turns to look at Hitoshi, he puts on his most annoyed face, trying not to show too much that that stupid nickname had run through his body like a chill. “Maybe you just don’t have enough motivation. Let’s make a bet.”
“About what?” A tiny part of his brain is screaming that any bet is stupid because, besides the fact that he’s terrible at video games, Hitoshi is really good. Plus, Katsuki gets easily distracted by the movements of Hitoshi’s fingers on the controller.
“If I win, you answer one question honestly.” Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, and Hitoshi let out a deep chuckle, blinking slowly like a lazy cat. “I won’t brainwash you, I promise.”
Maybe it’s because he’s been acting like he’s in heat for a week now, but the way he says every word makes Katsuki’s skin crawl and something heavy settle in his stomach, along with a slight disappointment because, suddenly, he wouldn’t mind if he brainwashed him and did whatever he wanted with him. But he stands his ground, raising an eyebrow and sighing indifferently.
“What if I win?” It sounds more arrogant than it should, since it’s highly unlikely he’ll win.
“I’m all yours.”
Katsuki’s throat goes dry instantly; he has to clench his teeth and hold his breath so as not to show a single emotion, though judging by the way Hitoshi narrows his eyes, staring at him with a smirk on his face, maybe he hasn’t succeeded.
“Whatever,” he finally replies, grabbing the controller and trying to catch his breath. He takes a sip of the beer that was getting warm on the table in front of them, cursing inwardly because right now he could really use something cold to bring his temperature down.
To no one’s surprise, Katsuki lost. But at least he came closer to winning; even Hitoshi had to focus harder. It seems he really did need a little extra motivation.
“Okay, what the fuck do you want to know?”
Instead of answering, Hitoshi yawns, stretching back on the couch like a cat and running his hand through his hair, passively brushing away the strands that fall over his face. Katsuki knows he’s playing with his nerves, so he tries not to fall for it.
“I don’t know if I feel like sushi for dinner. We could order something,” he begins to ramble under Katsuki’s watchful gaze, even though Hitoshi isn’t even looking at him. “No, ramen is better. The other day, I discovered an amazing place with Tokoyami. They had some gyozas that were—”
Katsuki Bakugo’s patience has never been very extensive. With his forearm on Hitoshi’s chest, he pushes him against the sofa to keep him from getting up. He simply puts his arm in front of him, pressing him against the backrest and giving him his worst glare.
“Don’t mess with me, Eyebags.
For a moment, Katsuki hesitates, but it doesn’t take him long to realize that the fast, strong heartbeat he feels against his skin isn’t his own, but Hitoshi’s. He probably realizes it at that moment, too, because he frowns and grabs Katsuki’s wrist to pull it away. But he doesn’t let go; he simply holds Katsuki’s arm between them like a barrier.
“You want to fuck?” Katsuki’s eyes snap open. “That’s my question.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Katsuki’s voice comes out like a howl compared to Hitoshi’s calm tone. He tries to pull away, but Hitoshi has him gripped so tightly he can barely move. “Let go of me, you bastard.
Instead of doing so, Hitoshi uses Katsuki’s arm to push him down and position himself on top of him on the couch. Katsuki’s breath catches; he has to hold back because his palms start to burn and sizzle, threatening to shoot sparks, and he doesn’t want to blow anything up inside the house. But he can’t even blink as he looks at Hitoshi on top of him, with those big, deep purple eyes that always analyze everything.
“You just have to answer. It doesn’t have to mean anything, I just want to know.”
“No. I don’t want to,” he replies, clenching his jaw so tightly it starts to hurt. His wrist on his chest hurts too, since Hitoshi keeps pressing it hard against him.
“Okay, so I have to pretend I don’t notice that every morning you look at me like you want to eat me?”
“I don’t do that shit, you jerk.
“Do I have to ignore this, too?” His knee was between Katsuki’s legs, so he simply pushed his knee upward, causing a pathetic moan to escape his lips, his head tilting back as his eyes rolled.
A brush. A single stupid brush against his hard dick, and he’s already trembling.
“I can pretend none of this exists, Katsuki.” He opens his eyes at the sound of his name. It’s at that moment that he realizes Hitoshi’s cheeks are red too, that his breathing is ragged as well, and that he’s just as hard as he is, pressing against his thigh. “In fact, if you want me to be all yours, I can be. You can use me however the fuck you want. You just have to say it.”
He lets out a deep sigh, dropping his head for a moment as if saying that had exhausted him. Then he simply gets up without saying another word, leaving Katsuki sprawled on the couch, trying to remember how to breathe.
His whole body is trembling. His thoughts are racing so fast he can barely keep track of a single one. His entire skin is burning, especially the areas that have been in contact with Hitoshi. He covers his face with his hands to stifle a groan as he tries to calm down. “You want to fuck?” How could he say that? What normal person asks that question suddenly? But Katsuki wanted to say yes, he wanted to beg Hitoshi to fuck him hard, to slam him against the mattress, to cum inside him so many times that he’d spend days dripping.
So why couldn’t he do it?
What was stopping him?
It was simple: he and Hitoshi got along well; they’d helped each other out by sharing an apartment, so why couldn’t they help each other now? They were both always so busy. Katsuki was sure that, because of their schedules, it was just as hard for Hitoshi as it was for him to find someone to fuck. That’s why he’d been hooking up with Denki for a period of time. Katsuki knew Hitoshi wasn’t into relationships, which was perfect for him. Just sex. To disconnect when everything else wouldn’t let him. To let go and lose himself when everything was getting to him. That’s what his friend was offering him.
Katsuki jumps up, running down the hallway, tripping over his own feet along the way. He doesn’t slow down when he sees Hitoshi standing in the doorway of his room, looking worried.
“Hey, sorry if—”
He doesn’t let him finish because he lunges at him, pressing his lips firmly against his friend’s. The impact is so strong that Hitoshi staggers backward, stumbling until he crashes into the bed and falls backward with Katsuki on top of him. He gasps from the impact, but Katsuki doesn’t pull away; holding him by the cheeks, deepens the kiss, straddling Hitoshi as he presses his hands against his hips, surely leaving marks.
They’re a complete mess. They moan as they kiss desperately, as if trying to absorb each other’s souls. They begin to undress, leaving scratches in the process due to the urgency of the moment. Hitoshi lifts his hips to grind harder against Katsuki while Katsuki licks, sucks, and bites his neck. Everything slows down for a moment when Hitoshi’s hands slip into Katsuki’s pants to squeeze his buttocks.
“Okay, rules.” He manages to say, pulling away from his friend, resting his palms on his chest to steady himself.
“Rules.” Hitoshi gasps with difficulty,
“You’re going to fuck me hard because that’s what I need.”
“Hard. Got it.” The way he repeats his words makes Katsuki tremble, as if the confirmation that he’s going to get what he needs is coursing through his entire body.
“No making it awkward afterward or shit like that. This is just—”
“Just sex. Perfect.” Katsuki nods in agreement. He really needed to confirm if his assumptions were true, if Hitoshi was in the same place as him, looking for the same thing, needing the same thing. “Anything else?” he adds when he sees the other guy has stopped and isn’t saying anything.
“No. I think that’s it.”
No sooner has he finished speaking than Hitoshi pulls him to push him against the mattress. Feeling the weight of his body makes Katsuki gasp pitifully, because, damn it, he wanted this so badly. For the first time in a long time, he manages to shut off his brain, letting Hitoshi kiss him while caressing every part of his body. Yes, he’s known for always taking the initiative in everything, but for once, he needs this; he needs to let himself go, he needs to let himself be taken. And Hitoshi has so many things he wants to do. He doesn’t hesitate for a second to slide down Katsuki’s toned body, kissing every inch of skin in his path; over the scar, licking his nipples, biting the curve of his waist, and placing kisses on the V-shape of his hip. More slowly than Katsuki would like, he strips off his pants. Katsuki’s cock springs out before him, and Hitoshi stares at it, far too intently.
“If you want to look at it that much, I can send you a picture.”
“I’d love that. I can set it as my lock screen.” Katsuki feels his cheeks burn as Hitoshi smiles at him, so he gives him a gentle kick in the side. But his friend doesn’t mind, and affectionately pulls Katsuki’s waist to position him in the center of the bed before beginning to trail kisses down the inside of his right thigh. “I haven’t even tasted you yet, and I already feel like I’m going to get addicted.”
Katsuki would have liked to say something, but his brain shuts down instantly when Hitoshi’s tongue brushes against his tip. When was the last time someone sucked his cock? A year ago? Maybe longer. They’d gone out partying for Mina’s birthday, and he’d ended up in the club’s bathroom with a guy. He must have been a fan because all he wanted to do was suck Katsuki’s cock. The guy did a good job, but came in his pants before Katsuki even did. So when Hitoshi wraps his lips around the tip—a soft kiss that travels up and down—Katsuki can’t help but cling to the sheets and roll his eyes back with a moan as Hitoshi keeps sucking him deeper.
It feels so good. Katsuki lets himself be carried away by the pleasure; Hitoshi’s soft mouth sucking and licking him, just the right amount of saliva, moving up and down at a good pace, caressing him all over, squeezing his balls, scratching his skin. Katsuki could let himself go. He could cum and recover in a few minutes to go for another round. He could do it, but he doesn’t want to; there’s something genuine for him in holding back the orgasm. But it’s hard when his cock is slamming against the back of his friend’s throat.
A few taps on his leg distract him, and he lifts his head to see that he’s crushing Hitoshi’s head with his thighs.
“Damn it, Katsuki, I thought you were trying to choke me.” He’s about to apologize, but Hitoshi laughs. “That was good. Do it again.”
“You fucking pervert.” He gasps, though he smiles and feels something twist inside him. He knows Hitoshi has a few kinks of his own, which leaves room for his own.
Hitoshi pushes Katsuki’s legs forward, and instead of going back to his cock, he goes lower. The sensation of Hitoshi’s tongue in his hole makes Katsuki moan loudly. He doesn’t mind being bent in half in a rather uncomfortable position as long as Hitoshi can keep eating him like this.
“Why are you so relaxed?
In addition to his tongue, Hitoshi had slipped a finger inside him.
“Maybe I jerked off earlier.” He can’t help but feel his face burning, so he covers it with his arm. “Do you have a fucking problem with that?”
But Hitoshi just giggles softly, leans in to push Katsuki’s arm away from his face, and licks his lips.
“Did you jerk off thinking about me?” Katsuki doesn’t answer, just lets out a low growl. “Answer me.” And even though he hasn’t used his quirk, Katsuki feels it anyway. His whole body tenses when Hitoshi’s hand lightly squeezes his neck, his thumb on his Adam’s apple, applying just enough pressure to make Katsuki roll his eyes back with a moan. “Did you fuck yourself while I was sleeping?”
“Yes, I did.” He lifts his hips desperately, trying to get his cock to make contact, but Hitoshi has moved aside, as if he’s punishing him. He wants to get mad, he wants to yell at him to just fuck him already, and at the same time, he wants him to keep looking at him like that, squeezing his throat, gently licking his neck.
“Did you use your fingers or a toy?”
“Fingers.” Hitoshi bites down hard on Katsuki’s collarbone, making him moan, “I didn’t need anything else.”
“Jeez, are you that needy, kitty?” The mockery in Hitoshi’s voice tenses him up, and his own instincts kick in. He turns his face to reach Hitoshi’s lips and kisses him roughly, sinking his teeth into his lower lip until Hitoshi hisses.
“Fuck me already, or I’ll use my fingers again.”
“Are you always so impatient? You ruin the fun.” Hitoshi’s hand slides up his neck until two of his fingers slip into Katsuki’s mouth. “You know I could make it so you wouldn’t complain even once, right? I could leave you like a doll and use you while you feel every possible pleasure without even saying a word.” Katsuki moans as he licks his friend’s fingers because the idea of that makes his body shake. “Wow, you’d like me to use my quirk? Maybe we’ll do that someday. Though I like it better when you look needy and desperate like you do now.”
And even though part of him wants to keep up the dirty talk, he starts to get impatient.
“Fuck you, Eyebags, stop babbling. You’re still wearing your pants, for fuck’s sake.” Hitoshi chuckles against Katsuki’s neck in response.
“Believe it or not, I don’t want to hurt you. So let me prepare you properly.”
Katsuki wants to refuse because he doesn’t like the tender tone he’s used. But he falls silent when he feels something cold and wet against his skin. He doesn’t know when Hitoshi had gotten some lube and coated his fingers with it, but he doesn’t care. Hitoshi is still pressing against his neck, so Katsuki grabs hold of his purple hair to steady himself as Hitoshi slides two fingers inside him.
“Slow down, you bastard. Didn’t you say you didn’t want to hurt me?”
“Come on, you’re so relaxed that you barely have to feel it.”
He feels it—Hitoshi’s long fingers sliding into him perfectly, with barely any pain, just a pressure swirling inside him that makes him moan. He wants to moan so much and so loudly. For all those times he’s had to hold back while jerking off, imagining he was being fucked by his roommate. The whole building is going to hear him, but he doesn’t care at all.
“Tell me a fantasy. The one you use to jerk off.” Hitoshi’s voice brings him back to reality. He could not answer him; in fact, he feels he can’t, but at the same time, Hitoshi’s voice is like a siren’s song. He doesn’t need to use his quirk to make Katsuki do anything—though he’d never admit it out loud.
“I like to imagine you watching me while I touch myself.” Hitoshi hums, savoring the idea. It’s definitely his favorite fantasy. He has many; his imagination is as powerful as his quirk, and although the one about getting fucked in the kitchen is also quite interesting, he thinks it’s more appropriate to mention that one, given the situation he’s in with Hitoshi’s fingers in his ass. “You’re dressed in your hero suit.”
“Wow, Katsuki, you’re a fucking perv, ” hisses Hitoshi, as he slips in a third finger. Katsuki spreads his legs wider because, despite the pressure of the moment, he needs to feel more than that. “What else?” Hitoshi urges him to keep talking, and although it takes him a while to catch his breath because Hitoshi won’t stop moving his fingers, he forces himself to keep talking.
“Maybe I’m on top of you while I touch myself.”
“So you want to masturbate on top of me. You want to rub yourself naked against my suit, like you’re in heat. And you’d like me to give you orders?”
“Fuck yeah. I’d love that.” The words come out like a plea, beyond Katsuki’s control, as he lifts his hips to feel more.
The kiss is rough; Katsuki’s moans won’t let it be any other way, so it’s just a tangled mess of lips and tongue, while Hitoshi doesn’t let up with his fingers. Katsuki runs his nails down Hitoshi’s nape, pulling him tighter against his body, while his own hips move as Hitoshi keeps fingering him—now with three fingers. His friend’s legs hold one of his, and the other, Katsuki, has pressed against the mattress, trying to brace himself and thrust against Hitoshi’s hand.
“I’m going to come.”
“Please.” Hitoshi’s plea is choked by his own gasps. He pulls back just enough to look into Katsuki’s eyes as he nears his climax. “Look at me. Look at me, Katsuki, I want to see you.” And he does. He opens his eyes to lock them onto the purple ones staring at him with such desire that, with a push from Hitoshi’s hand, he cums with a moan onto his chest, without even touching himself, just from the deep movement of the fingers inside him and Hitoshi’s dark gaze. “God, you’re incredible.”
Katsuki catches his breath as Hitoshi plants soft kisses on his face, too tender for him. As soon as he feels Hitoshi’s fingers leave him, he pushes Hitoshi down onto the bed. Hitoshi gasps from the movement, but also from Katsuki’s gaze, full of danger and anticipation.
“You’re a fucking pain in the ass,” he says, ripping off Hitoshi’s pants as Hitoshi simply leans on his forearms, watching him with a half-smile. “If you don’t fuck me, I’ll have to do it myself.”
The wet stain on Hitoshi's boxers doesn't go unnoticed by Katsuki, and even though he's pretty hard, seeing him dripping only makes him want to suck him off. He shoves Hitoshi’s cock into his mouth all at once; he’s never had a gag reflex, and even though it’s big, he handles it well. “Damn, Sparky was right,” he curses inwardly when he feels it hit the back of his throat.
“Damn it, Katsuki, fuck,” Hitoshi’s curses come in rapid succession as he pulls Katsuki’s hair. He doesn’t pull him away; rather, he holds him there while instinctively lifting his hips. Katsuki can’t help but roll his eyes at the sensation, feeling himself getting hard again. “Slow down, shit, I’m gonna cum.”
“Don’t even think about it,” he says, pulling away for a moment to catch his breath. His gaze falls randomly on Hitoshi against the pillows, his fist clenched against his sweat-beaded forehead, his mouth open in a moan, and his eyes tightly shut.
“Hitoshi,” he whispers.
He responds to the call by looking at him, and Katsuki lowers himself back onto his cock without taking his eyes off him. Hitoshi struggles to hold his gaze, though he moans softly again, biting his lips hard. Katsuki has always been so turned on by his gaze; the way he observed everything so intently, analyzing it carefully. His large, dark eyes, outlined by permanent dark circles, made everything seem so much more intense. That’s why now, as he continues to look at him, Katsuki has to grind against the mattress because Hitoshi’s gaze alone triggers too many things in him.
The opposite is true as well. That’s why Hitoshi squeezes his hand, still in Katsuki’s hair, to force him to go deeper. Katsuki moans, puffing out his cheeks as the cock enters deeper. He feels his eyes welling up with tears, but he holds back, staring intently at him because he doesn’t want to miss any of his friend’s reactions.
“You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Hitoshi murmurs, releasing Katsuki’s hair. Katsuki sits up with a smile and leans toward him.
“Yeah, I hear that a lot, about the explosions and all that.” He runs his tongue over Hitoshi’s lips, and Hitoshi chuckles.
“You’re hot, but you’re not funny at all.”
“Fuck you.”
“I thought you wanted to fuck yourself.”
“God, you’re so annoying.”
But it’s not a lie. Katsuki has a goal, and everyone knows he always gets what he wants. Without thinking, he straddles Hitoshi, who holds him by the hips while he aligns his cock against his ass. He drops down hard with a moan when he feels something explode inside him.
“Go slow, for fuck’s sake,” Hitoshi snarls in a broken voice.
Katsuki really would have liked to lower himself slowly, but his legs gave out—though he’s not going to admit it.
“Come on, Nighthide, someone told me you could last longer,” he says, trying to catch his breath, his head bowed and resting on Hitoshi’s chest with his palms.
“You wanted me so badly that you went around asking what I’m like in bed?”
“Shut up.” Hitoshi’s laughter cuts off when Katsuki rolls his hips.
After a few minutes, Katsuki can conclude that Hitoshi is a good sexual partner. It’s true that the way he’d gone down on him and the fact that he’d come just from being fingered already made that clear, but now, as he helps Katsuki move up and down by holding his hips, and since he’s also paying some attention to Katsuki’s dick and because of the soft moans; Katsuki gives him a solid pass even though he’s not finished yet. He’s just enjoying it, bouncing on Hitoshi’s cock, tilting his head back so it hits his chest with every moan, feeling so full after so long of feeling only emptiness.
“Now tell me one of your fantasies.” It’s his moment of revenge. Hitoshi is lost in his pleasure, so he just growls softly. “Come on, I know you think about me when you jerk off.” He moves slowly over him, and that makes Hitoshi truly lose his mind, rolling his eyes and digging his fingers into Katsuki’s waist, annoyed by the talk.
“I don’t have any,” he manages to say, and Katsuki laughs, a sound that mixes with his own uncontrollable moan, because even though he’s taking control, the pleasure is too much.
“Liar.” Hitoshi’s eyes lock onto his, and Katsuki leans down to kiss him. He does it slowly, running his hand through the purple hair, brushing it away from his face. Hitoshi looks at him with a furrowed brow, suspicious of him. “I bet you’ve been jerking off since school, thinking about me.” The way he rolls his hips makes Hitoshi moan. “Tell me.”
“Fuck, I can’t. Katsuki, if you keep this up… fuck.”
“Is this your fantasy? That I ride you and milk you?" But Hitoshi doesn’t answer; he just growls low, gripping Katsuki tightly around the waist to slow him down.
Katsuki is indeed a big guy—he isn’t very tall, but he’s very buff. Hitoshi isn’t quite as muscular, but he’s much taller than Katsuki, so his long arms move him with surprising ease. He lifts Katsuki slightly to get him on his knees, with one hand on his chest and the other guiding himself inside him. Katsuki can do nothing but let it happen, clinging to Hitoshi’s arm, not caring if he digs his nails in and leaves marks. The position makes everything feel so much more intense; Katsuki can do nothing but moan, throwing his head back to rest it on Hitoshi’s shoulder, who takes the opportunity to kiss and bite his neck.
“Faster,” he gasps without realizing it, because the slowness of Hitoshi’s hips is melting him from the inside. “Please, Hitoshi.”
But he doesn’t pick up the pace; he stays slow, making Katsuki’s insides burn.
“You know you’re purring?” Hitoshi’s voice is so soft and thick that Katsuki can barely hear him over his own moans, even though he’s speaking directly into his ear, kissing his earlobe, gently tugging at it with his lips. “Every moan is like a desperate meow. You’re incredible, fucking hell, I could stay inside you all day.”
“Shut up, damn it, shut up, I need it faster.”
“I don’t think I can hold out much longer, kitty.” With one hand, he pushes him down onto the mattress. Katsuki lets himself fall and buries his face to stifle his moans, clutching the sheets.
“I don’t think I’ll ever forget what it’s like to watch your back while I fuck you.”
Hitoshi’s voice sends a shiver down his spine, just like his deep thrusts. It’s not a fast rhythm, but it’s hard. So hard that Katsuki’s legs can’t support his body, and he falls flat onto the mattress while Hitoshi keeps pushing.
“Fuck, Katsuki, the sparks.” His whole body is crackling with little sparks from his explosions. His sweaty body, the orgasm, Hitoshi’s thrusts—it all makes him unable to control himself.
“Hold on.” He whimpers, lifting his ass so Hitoshi can fuck him harder, while he feels himself coming with his cock pressed against the mattress.
The little sparks must be burning Hitoshi’s skin, but he doesn’t slow down, chasing his own orgasm. Katsuki clings to him, moaning from the overstimulation, reaching his hand back to tangle his fingers in the purple hair, pulling gently as Hitoshi moans against his ear, finally cumming.
The two of them stay like that, still, catching their breath. The crackling has ceased, and the silence in the room is broken only by their breathing. Katsuki’s body trembles slightly, while Hitoshi continues to press against him. He feels so good.
“Sorry for coming inside you, I don’t know if—”
“Shut up, don’t be so fucking considerate.” Katsuki shifts, and Hitoshi pulls out of him. A sudden feeling of emptiness washes over him, and he stays just as he is, lying on the bed, unable to move, even though he wants to; he feels so sticky, and lying in his own semen isn’t pleasant. “Obviously, I wanted you to finish inside me.”
Hitoshi says nothing, just hums in agreement as he lies on his back on the bed. The atmosphere suddenly grows tense; Katsuki can feel it, so he turns to look at his friend. He scans his body to see if there are any burns from his sparks, but aside from a few scratches, he doesn’t seem to be hurt. Hitoshi has his arm over his face, covering it, so he doesn’t see Katsuki approach and press a kiss to his lips.
“Are you okay?” he asks, forcing Hitoshi to move his arm so he can look him in the eyes.
“Yeah. It was good.”
“Just good, you jerk?" Hitoshi chuckles, and Katsuki can’t hold back a smile.
“Well, there are things to improve on, like your impatience. It doesn’t make it fun.”
Katsuki growls and tries to pull away, but Hitoshi pulls him back to press him against him. He has him completely wrapped in his arms, so their bodies touch again. Katsuki wouldn’t admit it, but it feels good in his arms.
“And you, are you okay?” Katsuki frowns to answer, but Hitoshi won’t let him. “I know you hate that damn question, but I really want to know. I don’t want this to ruin anything we have. We’re still friends, right?”
He knows they'll have to talk about it at some point, but he was hoping he'd at least be able to take a shower first. With a sigh, he brushes the purple strands of hair off Hitoshi's forehead while humming in agreement.
“Of course we’re friends, dumbass. Friends help each other out; this was something we both needed.” Hitoshi nodded with a smile, and perhaps something in his gaze made Katsuki’s cheeks flush. “Now get off me, I feel gross.” But instead of stepping back, he wraps his arms around Hitoshi’s neck to kiss him. “I’m going to take a shower,” he finally says, stepping over him to get up. Hitoshi lets out a low laugh that stops Katsuki, who remains seated on the edge, staring at him. “What?”
“Nothing, nothing. Go take a shower.”
“Tell me, or I’ll beat it out of you,” he says, lightly punching him in the side.
“Okay. Okay. My fantasy.” Katsuki frowns. “I jerk off in the shower every morning when I get back from patrol, and I imagine I’m fucking you in there.”
Maybe it’s the words, maybe the deep voice he says them in, maybe it’s the mental image of that scene or those dark eyes staring right at him, but Katsuki feels his cock throbbing hard.
“You’re a total pervert,” he says, standing up but unable to hide his smile. Hitoshi shrugs and settles back on the bed. “What are you doing? Let's go.”
“Let's go?” he asks, confused, but he sits up slightly, leaning on his forearms.
“Your fantasy. Let's make it happen.” The huge, naughty smile on Katsuki's face makes Hitoshi's dick twitch, and it's so obvious that Katsuki looks away for a second. “Or is it that you can't handle another round?”
“Can you? Can you cum three times in a row?”
“I don’t know, we can find out. I think I might be better at this than video games.”