Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Normally, on bad days, Katsuki curls up in bed and turns up his music. Normally, when he feels useless and devastated, he turns off his brain in any way he can. 

But today, even that doesn’t fucking work. He closes his eyes and blasts music, but no matter how he tosses or turns, he can still hear that little girl’s screams from up in the burning building. He can still feel his coworkers holding him back from going in to get her. 

So he goes to a nightclub instead. 

It’s not normally his scene. But being alone seems to make everything worse, and he’d rather die than go to Deku’s place for fucking comfort. So he’s out at this dark, loud bar, downing whisky on whisky until his head is less intrusive. 

He usually doesn’t get hit on when he goes to bars. He gives off “don’t approach me vibes,” Uraraka told him once. It’s fucking fine with him. At least this way, he can focus on numbing out and staring blankly at his still dirty hands. 

But at some point, someone fucking sits at the stool next to him. 

Katsuki looks over, eyes narrowed. It’s a guy, a little taller than him, with spiky bright red hair. It’s fucking hideous. It makes him look like a disgusting teenage punk, even though he looks to be about Katsuki’s age. 

And this isn’t a gay bar. Katsuki didn’t go out to get laid on purpose . He isn’t in the mood and he doesn’t want to fucking flirt. 

“Whisky?” 

The guy can barely be heard over the thud of the music. And Katsuki doesn’t really know why, but it’s a comforting sound, and he’s nodding before he realizes it. For whatever reason, this dude doesn’t make him uncomfortable. 

He buys Katsuki his next glass. 

“You look way too grumpy to be in this sort of club, man,” the guy says, a little louder. Katsuki clicks his tongue.

“I had a shit day. Fuck off.” 

The idiot laughs. “No way! We just started talking!” 

Just started? What the fuck does he plan on doing, making a spiritual connection at a fucking night club? Does Katsuki really seem like the guy to try doing that with? He takes back what he said about feeling comfortable sitting with this asshole.

“Let’s hurry up and stop then,” Katsuki announces, venom dripping from his tongue. He raises his heavy glass and chugs, one, two, three heavy sips and slams the empty glass down on the bar. 

“Thanks for the fucking drink.”

It’s clearly a dismissal. Katsuki doesn’t even look at the guy as he says it. 

“You’re welcome! I’ve got your next one too.”

It’s bright and cheery, and Katsuki hears a slap of a credit card against the wood and his eyes dart down. The bar keep takes the card, and Katsuki blinks up at the redhead in utter disbelief. 

“I meant-“

“It’s no big deal,” the guy smiles at him, too kind, too wide. It sets Katsuki’s instincts into high alert, for some reason. 

“I’m Kirishima. What’s your name?” 

Katsuki scowls. Shitty name for a shitty haircut. 

But despite himself, he’s turning back toward the bar, taking the new glass in front of him and taking a swift sip. “Bakugo.” 

He really, doesn’t mean to tell him. He doesn’t fucking mean to, but he does. 

“What do you do, Bakugo,” Kirishima says, taking a light sip of his beer. 

Of course he likes beer. Katsuki just noticed it was there, but it makes sense. He’s buff as all living fuck, too. Katsuki would bet money that he was a fucking frat guy at one point. Should he tell him what he does? Does he even want to keep talking right now?

Eh. 

“I’m a fireman,” he grunts out, quiet enough he hopes Kirishima can’t hear him. 

“Woah really! I mean.. not woah cause you clearly look like one but…” Kirishima’s eyes are wide, oddly huge and puppy like in awe. Katsuki scrunches his nose in distaste. 

“I’ve always thought that sort of job would be cool. Super manly. All I do is personal training at a big gym.” 

Katsuki can’t help his snort. Yup. Seems about fuckin right. 

“What!” Kirishima squeaks, clearly trying to fake being offended. 

“I should’ve bet money,” Katsuki sneers. Kirishima blinks at him all big again, but then his eyes dart down to his bottle. 

It’s silent for a beat, and Katsuki doesn’t know why, but he’s not exactly upset about it. His head feels wonderfully heavy and his limbs feel loose. 

“I helped train a firefighter once,” Kirishima suddenly pipes up. Katsuki raises a brow at him as he takes a sip. 

And then he starts talking, about how cool it was, about how intense the regimen had to be, how exciting it was when the guy would come back and tell Kirishima stories. The idiot goes on for what must be ten fucking minutes, cause they’re both practically done with their drinks by the time he stops. 

“You must have cool stories too, huh?” 

Katsuki stares at the other side of the counter, at the glass bottles and thin black splash that shows his own reflection. His brain tries to bring up her voice again, but he takes another sip instead.

“Not important.” 

Kirishima must sense the turmoil, somehow, because he’s taking the last, long swig of his beer and slamming the empty glass down with a sigh. 

And then he turns to face Katsuki head on, cheeks a deep red that almost matches his hair, and blinks wuth slightly lidded eyes. 

“Wanna dance?” 

At first, Katsuki just blinks with narrowed eyes in disbelief. Disbelief that he was asked, disbelief that Kirishima swung this way in the first place and was flirting with him . 

“This place isn’t exactly fucking-“

“Oh no one will care. Dance with me.” 

And then Kirishima extends his hand, and for whatever reason Katsuki is compelled to take it. He’ll blame it on his fuckin whisky. 

He doesn’t dance. He doesn’t go to bars, and doesn’t hook up with girls, or guys, or whatever. The few times he has, he’d been drunker than he is now, and he would pick someone he could have control over. 

Kirishima, isn’t that. He leads. He’s the one who takes Katsuki’s hand and pulls him through people, he’s the one who is smooth enough to turn Katsuki away from him without even letting the blonde blink. 

Sure, Katsuki’s never been in this position when grinding. He’s bottomed maybe twice in his life. But fuck him if he doesn’t at least know how to move his hips. 

The music washes over him as they start, and it’s loud and obnoxious and it makes everything blissfully quiet in his mind. 

Distantly, as Kirishima pulls him closer and Katsuki feels hips press against his ass, he realizes how strange it is that it doesn’t make him upset. Usually guys that expect Katsuki to do this type of thing get punched in the face. Katsuki wonders why he doesn’t want to punch this one. 

It’s no matter though. Kirishima is technically a stranger still, but he sure as fuck doesn’t feel like it. It feels like they’ve talked for hours, like they sort of know each other. It’s probably just the alcohol. The song gets heavier, and so do their hips, and it feels nice. They’re in sync without hesitation. Kirishima’s hands feel big resting on his hips, he feels like a solid, secure muscular wall behind him. 

Slowly, cautiously, Kirishima travels his hands up to Katsuki’s waist. Katsuki’s eyes are closed, and each passing second makes it more and more clear how drunk he is. He doesn’t realize Kirishima’s lips are by his ear until he can feel the sensitive puff of hot air against it. 

“Your waist is real-.. really small for a fireman,” Kirishima huffs. It’s dark, and filled with something thick and heavy, but his voice shakes as he says it too. 

It makes Katsuki smirk, makes his blood boil with confidence. He starts rolling forwards and back, then leans back against the idiot behind him and drops his head onto his shoulder. 

“Fuck off,” he says, pretending he isn’t breathless. Kirishima is panting, and his hands start to slide back down but Katsuki’s shoot to stop him, to cover his hands and keep them there. 

A few seconds pass, his breath is picking up. Each roll of his body feels easy, natural, and he feels shivers of arousal tingle in his fingertips. Feels heat simmer in his gut. God he’s really drunk now huh? How much did he drink? It feels like a lot. His walls are crumbling. 

And also, if he’s not mistaken, he’s pretty sure the idiot behind him is getting hard. 

And… he might be a little hard too. 

He’s gonna keep blaming it on the alcohol, he thinks. That’s what he tells himself when his breath hitches at a tightening of hands, when Kirishima holds onto him tighter and the feeling makes his blood shoot south. He’s never gotten hard while dancing before. Usually he doesn’t even get hot. It’s the alcohol. It must be.

That’s what he tells himself when he mentally shrugs and bends himself over. 

He’s still working his hips, and if he isn’t mistaken, he can hear Kirishima’s sharp gasp as he does. One of the hands on his waist travels around his torso to rest at his lower back, and it’s nice. It holds him. Makes it easier to bend his knees and find a rhythm. 

But then, both hands are grabbing his biceps and lifting him back up. 

Long fingers wrap around his throat, and his eyes shoot wide as it squeezes with a roll of Kirishima’s hips. 

“Where are you trying to go, hm?” 

It’s right in Katsuki’s ear. Low and hot and grating. Like some sort of weird drug, it causes all of the shock and panic to leave Katsuki’s body, keep rolling and moving to the heavy thud of music. His eyes go lidded and his mouth drops. His body is held firm by the grip on his throat and a hand on his hip, and he… doesn’t hate it 

“I want you here, with me,” Kirishima purrs, almost causing a thrill to travel down Katsuki’s body. “No hiding, pretty boy.” 

And holy fuck. What is this? Why isn’t he hating any of this? It should make him enraged, it should. Practically being choked on a club dance floor? Some punk whispering into his ear while they’re grinding? He should fucking hate it? Why doesn’t he? Why is it making him so hard, why is it making him feel like his blood is boiling and he needs his skin to crawl

off his body? 

One of his hands desperately shoots to the forearm holding his neck. His breath is quick and shallow, and Katsuki can see the people around him but not well . 

The grip lets up a little. “Too much?” 

Katsuki has never shaken his head faster in his goddamn life. 

Too much? Too much ? Someone needs to fucking explain why that question is so ubsurd to him, why his head is screaming ‘ not enough’ on fucking repeat like a broken record. 

He can’t find the words though. They won’t come out. So he presses in on the muscle of Kirishima’s forearm, pushes him closer. Harder against his throat. 

Kirishima chuckles in his ear. Chuckles. Like goddamn satan. Or God. Or some kind of sexy, ethereal being. 

“More?” 

The hand tightens, and Katsuki feels blood rush to his head, and down to his cock, and through his heart. He gasps, or moans, he doesn’t quite know. His pride is raging in anger at what’s happening. 

“Ffuck- you,” he wheezes, pathetically, and as the strained sound of his own voice hits him he wants to curl up in a ball. 

He frowns when there's another chuckle in his ear, frowns harder when the hand tightens and he realizes how fucking desperate he feels.

“You're fun,” Kirishima smiles, Katsuki can hear it in his voice. 

And then everything comes to a screeching, violent halt. 

The hand on his throat shoots away. So do their bodies. A hand is tearing Kirishima away from Katsuki and there’s a girl. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Her hair is just as ruined as Kirishima’s-pink and poofy, and Katsuki’s face is flaming in mortification as she looks between them. “But I think Kami is dead? He passed out on the table 10 minutes ago and-“

No. No no no.

Before Katsuki can hear the rest of it Kirishima is being dragged away. There’s rushing white noise in his ears, he doesn’t know why, his throat is choked up and he opens his mouth to protest but Kirishima is turning to him and mouthing he’s sorry. 

His eyes are wide and sincere, still blown with lust, and it makes Katsuki so angry. 

His hand is the last thing he gets, Kirishima’s hand in his, and right before it’s torn away and he’s swallowed away by the world Katsuki catches sharpy writing on the back of it. 

The Pit, it says. 

But then he’s gone. And Katsuki just stands alone on the floor, still hard, eyes wide and blank in shock and horror at everything that just happened. 

Fuck, he should write that name down. Maybe he can do something about it. 

His fingers are trembling when he opens his phone and types it into his notes. The screen is blurry and he feels hot and weak. He can’t tell if it’s from arousal or intoxication, or a mixture of both. 

Katsuki doesn’t want to drink anymore. He doesn’t want to sit at a bar anymore. He gets a cab and goes back to his apartment. 

The whole way, he can feel the ghost of a hand on his throat. The ghost of a comforting force behind him, around him, the ghost of a hot breath in his ear. 

—————-

When he wakes up, he has the most intense urge to punch himself in the face he’s ever had in his life. 

He’s sort of hungover. He’s never hungover. 

Katsuki isn’t the type of person to do what he did last night. Getting drunk and grinding his ass against some idiot personal trainer frat boy? Letting said boy choke him on the dance floor? Who the FUCK is he? 

He’s in a shit mood at work. Dumb Deku tries to ask what’s wrong, and Katsuki lies and tells him it was yesterday’s call. It sort of is. But it’s more the fact that he’s for some reason still hung up about everything that happened at the club. 

He still has the note in his phone. Katsuki vaguely remembers when he wrote it, but it’s fuzzy. He especially hates that he wants to fucking Google it. The name sounds like a club, right? Or a bar? 

Katsuki spends the whole fucking day thinking about it and beating himself up. He only comes to a decision when he’s stomping his way up his apartment stairs. Whatever the fuck happened to him on that dance floor, if there’s a chance he can figure any of it out? Why the fuck shouldn’t he?

So he sits down at his home office computer as soon as he gets inside. Angrily taps his heels on the ground while he waits for the fuckin thing to power on. 

He goes to google maps first. Types in The Pit. 

His entire being freezes when it pulls up a BDSM club about 15 minutes away. 

No, he thinks. There’s no way. What the fuck? Club… dungeon.. what even is that? What.. 

Is he short circuiting? He must be. 

Maybe it’s shock that makes him click on the website link. He doesn’t want to think it’s curiosity. He wants it to be shock. What if the guy… Kirishima? That was his name right? What if he’s on this website somehow? 

It makes his gut stir in a weird foreign way. It has pictures of rooms that are covered in velvet, rooms with wooden crosses against the walls and chains hanging from the ceilings. Katuski gulps, and he feels slightly nauseous, butterflies erupting in his stomach. This is the kind of guy he was dancing with? A guy involved in whatever this is? 

Holy fuck. 

He shakes his head. This is fucking crazy. He expected… a bar, or something, that he could go visit. Not a fucking sex club. 

Still though, he scrolls. 

It’s fascinating. The rooms look intimidating, the details make his heart point. Cushioned floors. Leather and metal objects that look insanely painful are hung on the walls. Katsuki’s never really even thought of this type of.. sex. Is that what they do in these places? Fuck? 

It gives him chills. He’s stunned, and maybe a little threatened, but he’d rather die than admit it. 

Then, he gets to the employees. 

He scrolls and scrolls. There are boys, and girls, but he doesn’t bother looking at goddamn any of them for more than half a second. If he’s here, Katsuki will know the second he sees his- 

Hair. 

Yup. 

That’s him. He’s right there. He’s a… a fucking employee at a BDSM club. 

Maybe it’s a part time job, Katsuki tells himself. The stories he can vaguely remember about personal training seemed legitimate. 

Master Riot, it says under his picture. 

It’s actually just a shot of his back. Wide and ripped with muscles that put Katsuki’s to fucking shame. It’s his hair that gets Katsuki to stop. 

“Fuck me,” Katsuki whispers to himself. 

Chapter Text

The next few days he spends most of his time at the station, like usual. Katsuki’s whole life is work. He was born to save people. It's the only fucking part of his life that he enjoys. 

But now, when they don't have calls, Katsuki sits in a corner and researches. 

Apparently, these weird ass clubs aren't about sex. It's about…submission? And pain? And a bunch of other shit that makes Katsuki's head hurt. He doesn't really get it at all. 

“Kacchan! Do you want anything from-” 

“Fuck off!” 

Katsuki’s face is burning as he shouts. Deku has been his best friend since they were kids. If he turned around to answer he'd be fucking found out in a heartbeat. 

Thankfully, Deku leaves it. He asks the next person. Katsuki lets out a sigh and goes back to the website he's on. 

Should he…go? To one of these? It says on almost every site he's been on that it's more of a show people put on and watch. What the fuck happens if he goes and Kirishima is doing something to someone and he has to watch? Is that really how he fucking wants to meet again? 

Fuck. What other choice does he have? A part of him whispers that he could just fucking forget about it, and move on, but he knows he wouldn’t be able to. Katsuki hated how that ended. It’s like he’s had blue balls for the last four days, even though he’s jerked off plenty. It’s mental blue balls. Fucking somehow. 

It’s curiosity. That must be it. 

The Pit’s website doesn’t have a fucking phone number. It has specific, monthly nights where it’s open. If Katsuki goes, there’s no fucking way he can be sure if Kirishima will be there too. 

He’s going to go anyways. He wants to lie to himself and say he might not, but it opens for a night in three days, and he knows there’s no fucking way he won’t be there. 

————-

Katsuki doesn’t know exactly what to wear. He doesn’t have the pride to look up what’s normal. 

He goes in a loose black tee and ripped jeans. He wears a hat low over his eyes, so no one can see his face. It’s fucking mortifying. 

No one is waiting outside the place, a single door in a pretty well lit alley. It makes him feel a little better. 

When walks inside, though, he almost immediately turns around. 

Everyone is in… lace, or latex, or leather. It’s pretty damn packed. It sort of looks like a museum, if the museum was dark and evil and everyone was required to look like satan himself. Women wear fucking… masquerade looking masks, men wear sunglasses. It makes Katsuki feel anxious and horrible and out of place. What the actual fuck is he getting himself into? 

He hates it. He wishes he wasn’t as fascinated as he is. Most people would be weirded out enough to leave, and he sort of wishes he was one of them, but his feet are moving him further inside before he can think about it. 

Like a museum, the onlookers move. They move, and discuss quietly, and some of them are snickering. There’s a long hall that eventually drags him in, and as he walks down it, he has to shove his hands into his pockets so he can clench his fists. 

Instead of art, it’s windows into rooms where people are being tied up and toyed with. 

The first one he passes, he freezes in front of out of surprise. It’s a chick, blindfolded, tied to one of those wooden X’s, and another chick is tickling her. With feathers. Whispering into her ear and sometimes the tied up chick moans along with her breathless laughter. 

On the opposite side of the hallway there’s another woman being hit with one of the leather things Katsuki doesn’t understand. It has a lot of leather strips coming off of it. Her skin turns more and more red with each hit. Why would someone want that, even? What's the point? She's not even getting off. 

He looks into a couple more windows. They're more or less all the same. One of them has a man being hit instead, and he's gagged, and for whatever reason hearing him cry out from around the gag makes Katsuki feel more strange than anything else has so far. 

His heart freezes though, when he sees Kirishima. 

Thank God hes not in a room. 

There are two hallways that part off at the end of the main one. He's at the end of it, in tight leather and a harness. Directing people. He holds a long, thin black stick. Sometimes he touches people with it. Katsuki’s gut erupts in butterflies. 

Okay. What the fuck does he do now. He’s here, Kirishima is here, but he’s… the thought of just casually strolling up to him like everyone else makes Katsuki wanna puke with nerves. Kirishima’s probably gonna think he’s a stalker. 

Is he a stalker? 

The line is moving. Fuck he’s getting closer. He should leave. He should leave right the fuck n-

Too fucking late. 

Kirishima looks up at him and squeaks. 

Katsuki’s throat twists into knots. At least he recognizes him. Fuck. Kirishima blinks once, twice, and then turns back to the person he was directing. 

His face is red. He smirks, face strange and closed off, and brings the stick up to tilt up a woman’s chin. Hurt rages in Katsuki’s gut. What the fuck. Is he being ignored now? Is Kirishima ignoring him? 

Asshole. 

Katsuki doesn’t need this. 

He’s just about to turn around and storm out but then red eyes are darting up to him and he stops. 

Kirishima raises a hand. He nods his head in the direction of the front door and flashes 5 fingers. 

Oh. 

Katsuki nods. Meet outside in 5 minutes. He can do that. 

He goes outside immediately. Paces the alleyway. Holy fuck. What is his life? Has he gone completely fucking insane? What is he doing, waiting for a fucking dominatrix in an alleyway, because they danced together a fucking week ago? Why is Kirishima even meeting him? 

If it was Katsuki, he wouldn’t. He feels like a goddamn stalker. He should tell him it was coincidental, this meeting. 

Fuck, how long does it take for 5 minutes to go by? And why is he so fucking anxious? 

“Fireman!” 

Katsuki snaps to attention. Down the way, around a corner, Kirishima’s peaking around and waving at him with that weirdly huge smile. 

Katsuki scowls and stomps toward him. 

And of course, he’s still holding that stick. He’s still in a harness, still very, very shirtless. Katsuki really hates it. He wants to look so fucking bad.

“Well fuck,” Kirishima chuckles. 

His hair is still just as ridiculous as Katsuki remembers it being. But he looks taller. Manlier. Katsuki knows he looks sort of like a burglar. Eijirou looks nervous but not necessarily put off, which Katsuki supposes is a good thing. 

“Y-you are the fireman right?” 

Katsuki narrows his eyes at him. “Yeah. Bakugo.” 

Kirishima laughs nervously. “B-bakugo. I’m surprised to see you?” 

Katsuki scowls at the floor. Fuck. Ugh he feels shitty. This is stupid. This was stupid. 

“Yeah.. fuck this,” he mutters, mostly to himself. He turns to leave but immediately Kirishima grabs his elbow. 

“Wait! I didn’t mean like I’m not HAPPY.. I just almost shit myself honestly, this is the last place I’d expect-“

Katsuki tears his arm back to shut him up. “You had the name of it on your hand.” 

“Oh,” Kirishima squeaks. His eyes are big and innocent and completely contradict his outfit and where they are. 

“You came here to see me?” 

Katsuki tears his eyes away and glares angrily at the floor. Fuck him. Technically, yes, that’s exactly why he’s here, but he’s sure as hell not gonna admit it. 

“A-again, not at all a bad thing, I’m just wondering cause you don’t really seem to be the type-“ 

“So what?” Katsuki spits. “I could be the type.” 

“Really?” 

Katsuki feels his face start to burn. “ Fuck I don’t know. I came here didn’t I?” 

Kirishima laughs nervously again. He’s sort of cute. Katsuki’s confused why a guy so cute would work here and choke a stranger on the dance floor. 

“Yeah. Have you ever..ah…” 

“No. Is that fucking bad?” 

Kirishima tilts his head to the side and it makes Katsuki’s face burn more. His eyes get a little brighter and he seems to shrink a little. 

“Depends on what you wanted when you came,” Kirishima says, a little quieter. 

Katsuki literally gulps. What did he want? Fuck.. that’s a fair question. What does he say? 

“I don’t know why I came,” is what he ends up with. Fuck his face feels like it’s on fire. His eyes dart away and land on the black harness across Kirishima’s pecs. 

“Well do you.. I know this is probably a long shot but you’re pretty cool and I had fun dancing with you so.. if you want we could just continue? W-where we left off?”

The whole fucking world stands still. 

Katsuki’s tongue is in knots. His gut churns, his heart pounds, but slowly he looks up and meets those damn stupid red eyes. They’re sincere and kind and hopeful and they’re what gets Katsuki to speak. 

“Sure.” 

He honestly doesn’t know if that means literally, if it means a date, or if it means a quickie in a bathroom somewhere, or-

“Okay,” Kirishima squeaks. “A-ah… I work here until about 1? If you want we can-“

“I’ll be here at 1 then,” Katsuki says. 

“Okay.” 

Suddenly the air is heavy. Katsuki doesn’t know what to do, so he hunches his shoulders and darts back around the corner to run away. He knows Kirishima watches him the whole way until he’s back out on the street, he can feel his eyes. 

Fuck. 

———-

Katsuki can’t believe his fucking life anymore. He goes home. He’s not sure what he expects to happen when he sees Kirishima again later, but he takes a shower, and shaves, everywhere . 

He has three hours. Three fucking hours to wait.  

Fuck. Why is he so nervous? What if this guy is a killer or some shit? What if the whole BDSM thing is a front for kidnapping? 

Eh. If he is, Katsuki can fucking handle himself. His curiosity is killing him. He needs to see what happens. Is there something wrong with him? 

What’s so fucking captivating about this weirdo, anyways? 

He walks back down the same alley at 12:55. The lights that were hanging over the door are off. Katsuki has to turn on his phone flash light to fucking see at all. 

It’s a bit fucking scary, if he’s being honest. Alleyways aren’t known to be the safest fucking places. Katsuki has to keep reminding himself that he’s a fireman, and no one with a brain would see him and try to start shit. 

“Bakugo!” 

And there he is. He’s in jeans now, normal, if not a little ugly, and a plain red t-shirt that doesn’t match his hair. Bakugo frowns at him as he walks over. 

“Shitty hair.”

“It’s Kirishima! Remember,” Kirishima smiles, big and bright and real and gorgeous. 

“No,” Bakugo lies. He looks down at his feet awkwardly. 

“Well now you know. Come on,” Kirishima starts waking out of the alley, still smiling, and Katsuki follows like some weird fucking dog. He sort of feels like a dog. 

They walk out onto the street in silence. Side by side. Usually Katuski walks too fast for people, but Kirishima keeps up with him. Katsuki’s hands are sweating in his front pockets. They stop at a crosswalk, still not speaking. 

The night air is nice. Katsuki wishes there wasn’t so much fucking weird tension around to ruin it. 

“So,” Kirishima starts. His hands are in his pockets too. 

“If I’m honest, I’d totally offer to take you back to my place, but I’m really tired,” he says. Katsuki’s face heats up again

“If you want, I could get your number and we could meet up tomorrow instead?” 

Katsuki turns to look at him. His face is normal, maybe a little pink, but it makes Katsuki feel like a clown. He’s so not even faced by this. Does he do it a lot? 

“You have a lotta guys over like this?” He grumbles. 

“Nah,” Kirishima smiles, looking up at a building across the street. “I usually have my eye on one person at a time.” 

The light turns green. Katsuki looks at the ground as they start to walk again. 

“What exactly would we be doing? I won’t show up if it’s lame.” 

Kirishima laughs. “We can do whatever you want.” 

Katsuki frowns. Fuck him. Jesus Christ. How does he… how is he supposed to say he wants to hook up? He’s never had to ask for it in his whole fucking life. 

“L-look,” Kirishima stops walking and grabs Katsuki’s elbow. Lightning shoots up his arm and he stops. Tries to keep his scowl on his face as Kirishima blinks those big eyes at him. 

“There’s no pressure okay? But I think you’re really cool and manly and pretty, so if you..” 

“I’m not pretty,” Katsuki scrunches his nose. 

“You are,” Kirishima smiles. “What’s wrong with being pretty?” 

Katsuki doesn’t have an answer for that. 

“As I was saying,” Kirishima looks down, and his face gets a little red. “There’s no pressure, but I’ve been looking around for a fun sub and shit so. If you’re up for it.” 

Katsuki’s heart freezes. “The fuck does that mean?” 

“Like! We could just play around and.. I don’t know? It’s hard to explain. If you aren’t up for it just say so, okay? But I’ll be good to you, I promise.” 

“Do you mean like a fuckin.. fuck buddy situation?” 

Kirishima laughs. “Kinda.” 

Katsuki stares at his feet. His heart is pounding. Sub means submissive, right? That’s what it said on the websites. Katsuki doesn’t fucking know anything about that. Does this guy want like... a BDSM partner? 

Does Katsuki want to be his BDSM partner? 

He takes a breath. He can’t manage to meet Kirishima’s eyes. 

“I’m not saying no. But I don’t have any fucking idea about being a..”

“Sub?” 

“Yeah. That shit,” Katsuki’s face is burning. He frowns harder. “For whatever fucking reason it doesn’t disgust me, but I don’t… know anything. I just want to pick up where we left off? I fucking guess?” 

Kirishima grabs his hand. Katsuki still can’t look at him. “We can do that. And if you want to try stuff I’d be more than willing to teach you.” 

“I don’t need to be taught,” Katsuki snaps. 

“Okay!” Kirishima just smiles. “It’s up to you. No strings attached, deal?” 

Katsuki looks up. “Deal.” 

Chapter Text

Katsuki gives him his number. He walks Katsuki to the train and smiles at him before he leaves. That night he texts just to announce it’s him, but it makes butterflies erupt in Katsuki’s stomach. 

He works the next day, cause he always works, but he gets a text almost immediately after they get back to the station after a car accident. 

Shitty hair: 

Tonight still okay? 

Yeah. 

Katsuki presses his head into his hands. Fuck. Tonight. This is starting tonight. 

Shitty hair: 

Yay!!! Here’s my address, ———-

Katsuki’s face darkens. Address. He’s gonna fucking die of a heart attack. This is happening too fast. Not fast enough? His phone pings again. 

Shitty hair: 

8 okay? 

Yeah. 

Katsuki stands up. Walks over to where shitty Deku is sitting with their co-workers at the community table, talking about boring nonsense. 

Deku looks up at him, smiles. “Wanna join?” 

“I’m leaving early.” 

“Right now?” 

“An hour,” Katsuki says firmly. He fucking dares Deku to say anything. 

“Okay Kacchan,” Deku says. “How come?” 

“Not your fucking business,” Katsuki spits, and storms away. He hears his ‘friends’ laugh at him as he does. 

But of course, almost exactly one hour later, after furiously nervous cleaning the whole fucking lounge and kitchen, they get another call. 

It’s just a house. They’re sort of short on support , cause it’s a weekend and assholes start families, but Katsuki isn’t fazed. He barges in and attacks from the inside. Everyone is out. It’s just him and the fire. 

It’s a bitch. Some idiot set the stove off, so unless Katsuki can get to it, it’ll burn the whole fucking building to ashes. 

His arms ache with the weight of his extinguisher. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the heft of his full gear, or the burning heat of fires like this.

He’s honestly exhausted by the time they get back to the station. It’s fucking 7:30, and now he needs to go to his first sex meetup covered in soot and dirt. 

He puts in the address on google, and heads toward the subway, despite the ache in his legs. A 12 hour shift doesn’t go fucking easy on your body. He debates texting and cancelling it, but his blood is still singing in anticipation. He doesn’t want to cancel.

He’s fucking excited. 

Kirishima’s place is nice from the outside. Not really nice, but decent. He supposes he must be a pretty decent trainer to afford a place like this in the city. 

He buzzes up. 

“Come up! You’re late!” Kirishima’s voice is full of humor, and Katsuki scowls as he nudges through the door. 

His phone says 8. Late his ASS. 

Katsuki takes the elevator. He hates it, but his legs hurt, and he wants to have at least a little energy for this. The fuck would he do if he tops and his legs fucking give out? 

When he gets to Kirishima’s door, he stops. Fuck… what is he doing? Why did he agree to be this guy’s fuck buddy if all they know is each other’s names? Is this really okay? Shouldn’t they go on a fucking date first at least? 

He isn’t the dating type, not with his job, and certainly not with his temper. He hasn’t met anyone he’s been willing to tolerate long enough to even consider dating. 

But still. This shit seems like a commitment. 

He knocks. 

When Kirishima opens the door, and smiles, Katsuki can’t help the way his gut twists. 

“Hi!!! You’re late,” he smiles. Katsuki shoves past him. 

“I’m not fucking late.” 

“I thought you’d come earlier!” 

Katsuki scoffs. 

He’s wearing a dark grey v neck this time, and his jeans are loose. Katsuki feels strange in his firearms shirt. It’s so casual. 

“So this is the living room,” Kirishima gestures around. There’s a huge dark grey couch, a tv. A coffee table. It’s simple and boring. There are sliding glass doors on the opposite side of the room, and the smallest balcony ever sits on the outside of it. There aren’t even chairs. 

Kirishima walks around the corner, “The kitchen.” 

It’s boring too. Katsuki doesn’t see any spices. 

What the fuck. This is just a kitchen. Katsuki doesn’t care. He came here for.. sex, or whatever. At least a fucking make out session. He’s been pent up for fucking ages now. Why are they just walking around Kirishima’s apartment? Why is he showing it off in the first place? 

Kirishima leads him to the bathroom, which is down a hall, then a guest bedroom, and then starts to show Katsuki a goddamn closet. 

That’s just fucking ridiculous. 

“Why the actual fuck are you showing me around,” he spits. Kirishima stops talking and blinks down at him innocently. “I’m not a goddamn inspector.” 

Kirishima sighs lightly, a small smile dancing across his lips. Seriously. Is this guy a robot? How is he like this normally, and then a weird sadist behind closed doors? 

“I’m just being polite. I want you to be comfortable,” he smiles. “Its important to establish trust and everything.” 

Katsuki scowls, his nose crunching up. “I wouldn’t fucking be here if I wasn’t comfortable.” 

Kirishima’s smile gets bigger. His face tints a little pink. “Of course you wouldn’t. That’s so manly.” 

Katsuki frowns harder, even though his heart skips a beat. 

“Okay then. What do you want to do?” 

Katsuki almost chokes. The fuck? Oh god… 

“I don’t fucking know,” he growls. 

Kirishima’s eyes flutter, and his shoulders roll back, and holy fuck, Katsuki’s heart is suddenly beating really fast. The air in the room heats, and Katsuki has this sudden intense urge to start panting. There’s no air in his lungs, not when Kirishima looks at him like that.

Kirishima takes a step into his space and Katsuki is frozen. 

“Continue where we left off?” 

Katsuki nods. His throat is too tight to say anything. 

Another step closer, and Kirishima leans in, “Right.. where were we.” 

Kirishima steps around him in the small hallway, and in one smooth movement is pressed up against him, just like he was before, and a hand is wrapping around his throat like a snake. 

Katsuki’s eyes flutter, and arousal shoots through his body so quickly he gets dizzy. 

“Like this?” Kirishima purrs in his ear, voice low and velvety. Katsuki wants to shiver.

“Y-your other hand was here..” he takes Kirishima’s other hand and brings it to his hip.

“Of course.”

Fuck Katsuki can’t breathe. He’s already getting hard. Kirishima is firm, and big behind him, Katsuki forgot about that, how big he felt. Katsuki never, ever feels small, not like this. His heart is pounding in his chest. 

And it feels just like it had that night. Too hot, and too tense. They’re aligned just like they had been on the dance floor. 

“I think next,” Kirishima purrs, still too hot and close, right against the shell of his ear, “I probably would have done this.” 

The hand on his throat lifts to his jaw, and Kirishima turns his head, and kisses him. 

Katsuki doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. He melts. He exhales so shakily he feels like a girl, and leans into Kirishima’s warm lips like he needs them to breathe. Every muscle in his body is wound tight. His blood is racing through his veins, he feels weak and out of control. 

He remembers feeling like this that night. He thought it was the alcohol. 

Kirishima breaks away and Katsuki wants to fall forward against the wall of the hallway. He can feel the slow rise of Kirishima's cock against him, and the hand on his throat is this steadying thing…

“I forgot how muscular you are,” Kirishima rasps, still right next to his ear. Each time he speaks it sends chills down Katsuki’s spine. 

“What do you want, pretty boy?” 

“Touch,” Katsuki breathes without thinking. “Fucking touch me.”

The hand on his hip starts to slide up his shirt. It's warm and calloused and feels heavenly against his skin. It slides across his abs, firm and unrelenting. 

“Like this?” 

Katsuki nods. He's already starting to ache. The tent in his jeans is fucking embarrassing. Is Kirishima fucking magic or something? Did he drug Katsuki without him knowing?

And then Kirishima reaches his pec, and two fingers pinch a nipple and tug. 

“F-fuck-” he wheezes, and he finally falls forward into the wall. Both his arms come up above his head to brace himself with his forearms. 

“Sensitive, huh?” Kirishima smiles. 

Katsuki wants to nod. He's sensitive cause no one ever touches there. The few times anyone has tried Katsuki just knocked their hands away and pinned them…it always used to hurt but… 

His body starts rolling. He squirms against the wall and against Kirishima, some strange thought in his brain says that maybe if he makes Kirishima feel good he can feel good too. 

“Hang on...Bakugo,” ugh, he hates that, “we need to go over a few rules first.” 

“I hate rules,” he growls. He squirms harder. He doesn’t care about rules.

Kirishima laughs. “I’m sure you- hey.” 

Kirishima reaches around and grabs his dick in one huge hand, and squeezes. His hand tightens around his throat and Bakugo is freezing before he can help it. 

“Listen to me. Are you listening?” 

Katsuki grunts, his brows furrowed, breath coming quick. It feels good but it’s too harsh for him to really enjoy it. 

Kirishima breathes right next to his ear again, “this is important.” 

Katsuki frowns harder. “Fuck I’m listening, what is it.” 

“Do you know what a safe word is?”

“No,” Katsuki frowns.

“It’s a word to say you want to stop. Something completely separate from what we’re doing,” Kirishima mutters. His voice is dark, like red velvet, and his cock is still hard against Katsuki’s ass. It makes it hard to focus. 

“Regardless of what we do, it’s important to me that we have an out, okay?

Katsuki nods. Saliva is collecting at the bottom of his mouth, his knees feel weak. 

“We can use the traffic light system for now and figure out words after we’re done. Does that sound okay,” Kirishima nibbles on his earlobe and Katsuki feels a very obvious shiver travel down from the top of his head. 

“W-what’s the-”

“Red means stop, yellow means hold on or slow down, and green means everything is okay. I’ll check in, okay?” 

Katsuki gulps. Tries to buck his hips but Kirishima holds him still. “Fine.”

“Do you have anything you already know you dont like,” Kirishima gets quieter. 

Katsuki tries to think. “My legs hurt.”

Kirishima smiles against his ear. “Okay. I can work with that. What else?”

“Fuck I.. I dont fucking know...can’t we talk about this shit later?” Katsuki feels choked up and desperate, he feels like he wants to scream and all they’re doing is talking. 

“Okay,” Kirishima kisses behind his ear. “Do you want to try anything new tonight?”

Katsuki moans when Kirishima finally, finally slips into his pants and palms him from over his boxers. He nods. He’s fine with trying shit. He just wants some goddamn relief. 

Kirishima is clearly smirking against his skin. He lets Katsuki squirm and buck into his fist for a few seconds, like pity, and then he’s pulling away completely. He steps back and Katsuki’s knees almost fucking buckle in frustration. 

“Alright. You know where the bedroom is, don’t you?”

Katsuki’s eyes lift open and he glares hazily at the wall, frustration and humiliation and arousal all swimming in his head like a title wave. He feels oddly solemn as he stands up and turns, almost on autopilot, and starts walking down the hall towards the bedroom. 

It’s pretty nice inside. Katsuki stopped them before they got in to look around, and it’s nice. The bed is huge. 

Kirishima is following, something Katsuki only remembers when he hears the door click shut behind them. He turns and Kirishima meets him, red eyes lidded, a small smirk on his lips right before he guides Katsuki up into a kiss. 

He hates how he melts into it. Kirishima’s mouth is so warm, his lips are soft and firm, and he clearly knows how to use them. 

“Have you ever been restrained,” Kirishima says, practically against his mouth. Katsuki’s brows draw down. 

He gulps. “N-no. I thought that was just for BDSM.” 

“It is.” 

“I thought BDSM was like a show,” Katsuki says breathlessly. “Like at the club and shit.” 

“Clubs are like that, yeah,” Kirishima says. His arm is around Katsuki’s waist and he slowly starts walking them backwards toward the bed, all without taking their faces away from each other. “But real BDSM is about pleasure, and control. You’ll see.” 

Kirishima ducks around to his ear again, “if you want to, that is-“ 

“I want to,” Katsuki spits immediately. He kicks himself mentally. Real fuckin smooth. 

“Fuck, you’re so cute,” Kirishima mutters, and then they’re kissing again. 

Katsuki gasps into it. Kirishima’s tongue slides into his mouth and he meets it eagerly. His hands find Kirishima’s upper back and as they fall onto the mattress he tugs Kirishima’s shirt over his head.

He exhales heavily as his hands find skin. He’s warm, and smooth. Katsuki can feel his muscles so clearly. It’s strange. Usually the people he touches are small and thin. 

Kirishima kisses along his jaw and fingertips dance under his shirt line. His breath pauses, and Kirishima pauses too. 

“Give me a color.”

Katsuki blinks up at the ceiling over Kirishima’s shoulder. “What?” 

“Red, yellow or green,” Kirishima says cautiously. They’re both breathing heavy. 

“Ah.. green,” Katsuki says. Why would Kirishima think he wants to stop? Is he giving off weird signals or some shit? 

“Good. Just to practice,” Kirishima says, still breathing against his jaw. Oh. 

And then Kirishima lifts Katsuki’s shirt, tosses it, and pulls back to look. His eyes go a little wide, and Katsuki’s face flames as he looks down at his own torso, still covered in dirt. Kirishima takes in a deep breath from his nose.

“You’re dirty,” he says. Dark and breathless. Katsuki can’t tell if he’s aroused or disappointed. “Did you fight a fire today?” 

“Ah.. yeah,” Katsuki can’t really figure out how to move. He’s never seen anyone look quite as serious as Kirishima looks right now. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to shower-“

“No,” Kirishima snaps. “I love it.” 

Katsuki’s face flames, and he glares. “The fuck? Why?” 

Kirishima laughs, and presses his hands to his skin and drags them up. “Do I need a reason? You’re super hot. It’s manly as hell.” 

“Tch,” Katsuki raises his upper lip in annoyance, even though he really just feels mortified, but Kirishima kisses him again and he forgets about it. 

He’s pretty sure his face is dirty, so why is it so shocking to Kirishima that his torso is too? Fuckin soot gets everywhere. 

And then Kirishima is pressing the heel of his palm into his crotch and Katsuki moans so loudly and obscenely into the kiss he immediately breaks away and covers his own mouth. 

Kirishima isn’t fazed at all. Katsuki’s face is burning, his eyes are wide in shock and embarrassment, hands still over his lips, but Kirishima just smiles. Eyes closed, polite, cute smile. His hand grasps Katsuki more firmly, more from around his boxers than his jeans, and Katsuki tries really hard not to make another noise. 

“You’re really sensitive then,” Kirishima smiles. 

“Shut up,” Katsuki exhales. He can’t figure out the asshole’s expression, if he's amused or disappointed. What’s with that?

The hand leaves, again, but he can’t be angry about it because Kirishima is pulling his pants off his legs. His red eyes rake up his whole body, landing on his obvious hard on through his boxers, and then he stands back up. He crawls over Katsuki like a predator. 

“Bakugo-”

“Katsuki,” Katsuki breathes, entranced by the glow of Kirishima’s eyes. “If we’re doing this, quit calling me by my fucking family name.”

Kirishima’s eyes sparkle. “Okay,” he whispers.

“Katsuki,” Kirishima breathes against his lips, hot and sultry, and yes, thats much fucking better. 

“I-I havent bottomed in years,” Katsuki blurts. His head is foggy and a part of him hates himself for it but it needs to be out there. 

“Yeah?”

Their lips are still almost touching and it makes it hard to think. “Do you not like it?”

Katsuki exhales shakily. “Most people are too shitty.”

Kirishima huffs, like Katsuki pushed the air from his lungs. A hand travels up his neck and cups his jaw and it’s so soft and possessive Katsuki wants to tear away from it. 

“You want people to earn it?” 

Katsuki’s eyes flutter. He nods. How the fuck did he know that? 

“Sounds fun,” Kirishima whispers, lips curling up, and then he’s leaning back and lifting Katsuki off the bed. 

His eyes shoot wide, Kirishima’s arms wrapping around his waist and lifting him, and then they’re spinning, and the next thing he knows he’s sitting with his back to Kirishima’s chest. It happens so fast, and Katsuki is so honestly stunned that Kirishima can lift him so easily he doesn’t realize what’s happening until Kirishima’s hand is in his boxers. 

“I’ll earn it, I promise,” Kirishima purrs, right along the shell of his ear again. 

Katsuki clicks his tongue, even though his heart is racing, thighs jumping as Kirishima teases his fingers along the head of his cock. “W-whatever.” 

Kirishima hums. His hand pulls out and Katsuki turns to glare at him, but two hands are grabbing both of his wrists and pulling them behind him. 

“You’ve never been restrained right? We’ll start slow then,” Kirishima smiles. He grips Katsuki’s wrists in one big hand, holding them together. Keeping them still. 

Katsuki huffs. His head tilts back against Kirishima’s bare shoulder and he blinks up at the ceiling. He’s so hard. He tugs experimentally against Kirishima’s hold and finds he can’t move at all. It causes a brief shiver of panic, to realize how vulnerable he is, but Kirishima presses lips against his shoulder and he tries to exhale it out. 

“How’s this feel, pretty boy,” Kirishima says softly. Katsuki frowns. 

“Q-quit calling me that.”

“Why?” 

Katsuki starts panting, tugging his wrists, his hips squirming. He wants to touch himself. “It’s fucking weird.” 

“I think I’m gonna call you whatever I want to,” Kirishima says, suddenly snappy and low, right in his ear again. 

Instinctively, Katsuki’s shoulder jumps up to block Kirishima from his ear, and a shudder travels down his body and lands in his dick. Fuck. Where did that come from? 

Kirishima’s hand tightens around his wrists. “How does it feel? I asked you a question.” 

“F-fine,” Katsuki grits out, head heavy. “Feels fine.” 

“Color.” 

Katsuki forces his eyes shut, blood rushing to his cheeks. “Green.” 

“Are you sure? You seem uncomfortable,” Kirishima kisses his shoulder again. 

“I’m fuckin fine I just..” Katsuki struggles purposefully. He hates that he likes how it feels. “I can’t touch myself.” 

Kirishima chuckles against his skin. “That’s sort of the point.” 

Katsuki’s thighs close. “Are you gonna do it?” 

“Maybe.” 

Katsuki thrashes. The fuck? Maybe? What does that mean? Is this asshole just gonna hold Katsuki down and watch him suffer with a raging boner? Is that what fucking BDSM is? 

Lips drive up the side of his shoulder, and his neck, and shivers run down Katsuki’s spine. He struggles but he can’t move away, he can’t do anything. 

“You sure do squirm a lot, Katsuki,” Kirishima nips at his skin. “Do you feel a little out of control, maybe?” 

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answers to,” Katsuki huffs in embarrassment. 

Kirishima stops kissing him. The air suddenly gets heavy, and Katsuki can’t see him, but he knows he just somehow stepped in shit. 

“I’m gonna let you in on a little secret right now,” Kirishima growls. “I don’t take kindly to being ordered around. That’s not how you get what you want. You know that, right?” 

Katsuki’s heart is pounding like a drum. He feels his cock twitch and knows Kirishima can see it but he can’t look away from the ceiling. 

“F-fine,” he whispers, completely breathless. 

“Since this is the first time, I’ll cut you some slack. Don’t make me ask again. Do you feel out of control?” 

He’s back against the shell of Katsuki’s ear. Katsuki is starting to feel drunk. And light headed. 

“Yeah,” he whispers. 

“Do you like it?” 

Katsuki’s eyes flutter, and he’s starting to pant. “Yeah.” 

Kirishima hums pleasantly. It’s a wonderful sound, it makes Katsuki’s gut twist. “How are you feeling?” 

“Foggy,” Katsuki breathes. Everything feels like TV static. 

“Really?” Kirishima sounds a little surprised. Katsuki nods. 

Kirishima exhales a heavy breath, and kisses his cheek. “That’s good. I’m going to touch you now, okay?” 

Katsuki nods quickly. So quickly. He’s aching for it. 

When Kirishima does touch him, when he wraps that warm hand around him and glides down easily, Katsuki hates the high pitched sound he makes. He instinctively tries to cover up but he cant and it shoots this strange mix of arousal and fear through his body. 

“It’s okay,” Kirishima says quietly. “I want to hear you.”

“I-I don’t want you to hear me,” Katsuki admits breathlessly. 

Kirishima strokes him slow and firm, it’s easy cause Katsuki was so fucking wet, and he’s embarrassed by that too. He’s embarrassed by everything. 

“That sucks for you,” Kirishima smirks into his neck. “What choice do you have?” 

Katsuki trembles, a moan ripping from his throat as Kirishima rolls his palm around his head along with his words. 

“Trust me, pretty boy, it’ll be easier for you if you just sit there and take it.” 

“H-hah,” Katsuki gasps, trying to rock his hips faster into Kirishima’s warm grip. “Never be-been good at that.” 

“You’ll learn,” Kirishima smiles. Tightens his grip on Katsuki’s wrists and cock. “I’ll teach you.” 

The words wash over him and Katsuki makes another gross high pitched noise, his hips jump and very quickly, heat is starting to peak in his gut. Kirishima isn’t moving his hand as fast as he wants, but if he moves into it, if he rocks his hips just quick enough, he could-

“Color.” 

Kirishima’s hand slows, and Katsuki thrashes. He huffs, and squirms, but doesn’t really try to get out, and he glares blurrily up at the ceiling. He knows Kirishima didn’t mean to edge him. He’s just that fucking pent up. 

“Green,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Green green fucking green. Stop checking in on me.” 

“Stop telling me what to do,” Kirishima suddenly growls, like a dog, his hand pinches the base of Katsuki’s cock to hold him off all together, and he tugs his wrists down so his arms stretch out completely.

“I have no problem punishing you this early in the game. Do you want that, brat?” 

Katsuki’s eyes flutter, body flooding with heat and something warm and new. 

“Keep acting up and see what happens. Fuck, you barely have any rules yet and you can’t even follow those?” Kirishima sounds angry, and disappointed. Katsuki shakes his head. 

“No, no I-I can, fuck, I can,” he breathes, weak. His body feels like jello all of a sudden. 

“Eijirou,” Kirishima orders. “Say, ‘I can, Eijirou.’” 

Katsuki’s face floods with heat. “I-I can, Eijirou.” 

“Good. Ask me before you cum.” 

And then he’s moving his hand again, and it’s so fucking good. Katsuki can’t help it, he moves his hips and lets his head go limp against Kirishima’s shoulder, lets his mouth drop open. He can hear the noises he’s making but he knows better than to try and fight it. 

Kirishima is smirking against his jaw, and it just makes Katsuki’s gut twist more. His hand moves fast, tight and purposeful. It doesn’t take long, there's no way it does, it feels like mere minutes before his abs are clenching, before his thighs start to tremble. 

He feels restless. Trapped. He wants to vibrate across the bed, flail his arms, but he can't. Only his wrists are held down but he feels like he’s completely at Kirishima’s mercy. 

Fuck. 

“C-close, fuck I’m-”

“Ask first, Katsuki,” Kirishima says firmly. 

Katsuki’s back arches. His whole body trembles. His eyes are squeezed so tightly he’s starting to see white spots. “C-an I cum, hah-can I-”

“Yes, you can,” Kirishima smirks, and then bites into Katsuki’s shoulder at the exact same moment where he twists around Katsuki’s cock. 

Katsuki’s toes curl. He bites down on his tongue so he doesn’t make noise, his body tries to curl in but Kirishima’s grip is still holding his arms taught. He can’t stop vibrating, spilling over Kirishima’s fist and up onto his own abs.

Kirishima makes that wonderful pleased noise again, and strokes him through it. Katsuki’s thighs shake as he comes down from it, and he forces his eyes open to look at the ceiling again, breath coming in quick huffs. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it,” Kirishima kisses his shoulder, and his hand lets go of Katsuki’s wrists. 

Katsuki brings his arms back around. They feel weak. “No.” 

They both breathe for a second. Kirishima wipes his hand on the sheets next to them and then starts tracing up and down his torso and sides with both hands. It feels nice. 

It's oddly grounding. 

Kirishima kisses where he bit him. “Good?”

Katsuki scowls. “Shut up.” 

Kirishima sits up then, pushing Katsuki forward so he’s sitting on his own. Another kiss to his shoulder, and Kirishima is taking a breath and moving to get off the bed. 

“I'll be right back-”

“Why.” Katsuki grabs his elbow to stop him as he starts to walk off towards the bathroom. 

Katsuki swears, if Kirishima is seriously trying to run away to get off alone instead of letting Katsuki do it, he'll kick his ass. He felt how hard he was. He was pressing against Katsuki’s lower back the whole fucking time. 

Kirishima freezes. He turns, and his face is red. A lot of the cockiness he had earlier is melting away, clear as day on his face. 

Katsuki takes a breath. He can do this. Kirishima isn't as intimidating when he's red faced and nervous. 

He slides off the bed and drops to his knees. 

Kirishima's face gets more red, his eyes flutter and he takes a shaky breath, even as Katsuki forcibly takes his hips and turns him so they're facing each other. So he's face to face with the obvious, ridiculously sized tent in Kirishima's pants. 

“Try to run away and get yourself off again, and I'll kill you,” Katsuki glares up through his bangs. 

He expects another weak breath, or maybe a quick nod, but Kirishima just laughs weakly and smiles. It's a surprised and sweet smile. It makes Katsuki a bit fuckin nervous. 

“Sure.” 

It's much more familiar, this shit. Katsuki knows how to suck cock. He's gotten pretty damn good at it. And sure, usually he isn't on his knees, and usually he's also fingering someone open while doing it, but he knows more about it than whatever they were doing before. 

Long fingers slide through his hair and it feels possessive, but Katsuki focuses on unbuttoning Kirishima's jeans and pulling them down instead. He's going to be in control for this. 

“You don't need to do this,” Kirishima says, voice deep. 

“Shut up,” Katsuki grumbles, distantly. His eyes are locked on the monster in front of him. Not even out of boxers and its already fucking intimidating. 

He wants to do this. Even if he loses his breath when he drags down Kirishima’s boxers, as his dick springs up in his face.

He's huge. 

Katsuki swallows, throat already dry and aching even looking at him. This isn't like anything he's done before, because of course it isn't, and if the soft scratching against his scalp is anything to go by, Kirishima knows it. 

“You really don't need to,” Kirishima whispers. “I was gonna work up to it-” 

“You don't think I can fucking handle it? You think I'm a wimp?” Katsuki's blood boils, and his eyes snap up to meet the red ones looking down at him.

“Of course not,” Kirishima’s brow furrows. Katsuki glares at him, but steals himself back to the task at hand. 

The thing’s gotta be like… at least 8 inches. Katsuki would believe 9. He wraps a fist around the base, hard and warm and cut, and he mentally bets money he can fit both hands around it and it still wouldn't cover everything. Katsuki has big hands. 

“Katsuk-”

Katsuki sinks down as soon as that worried, gentle tone reaches his ears. It cuts Kirishima off just like it should, and even though he really just started, he pulls back to smirk. 

“You talk too much, Eijirou,” Katsuki purrs, leaning close and licking from base to tip, making sure he's keeping Kirishima's lidded eyes on him the whole time. 

Kirishima's brows raise, in arousal or something softer Katsuki doesn't know, and he laughs breathlessly as Katsuki licks along his cock again, and again. 

“You sure are something,” he breathes, fingers tightening in blonde spikes as Katsuki takes a breath and sinks down again. 

Its a nice feeling to get at least a little power back. He can hear it in Kirishima's voice, can feel it in how hard he is, but Katsuki needs to focus. He has some leg up now, but he pretty much only has the head of Kirishima's cock in his mouth and his jaw is already starting to ache. He's not sure he can keep being powerful with a dick this big in his mouth. 

He tries though. Swallows his nerves along with another two inches. Bobs his head and swirls his tongue as best he can. It’s like everything he’s used to doing is more difficult, and it’s just because of the size. It’s irritating. 

He can hear Kirishima breathing heavier though, past the rush in his own head. When he glances up he can see teeth digging into a bottom lip. 

Katsuki is not gonna fuckin wimp out. 

He goes faster. Hollows his cheeks and licks and bobs his head as fast as he can. The thing is already hitting his gag reflex and he isn’t even more than 1/3rds of the way down it. Kirishima gasps when he licks along the slit, so he does that a lot.

He pulls back to take a break, breathlessly kissing along the soft skin, and Kirishima drags his hand down to cup the back of his neck and Katsuki’s face flames. Why does he have to make everything fucking possessive? 

“Color?” 

Katsuki glares. 

Kirishima is lucky he has such pretty fucking eyes. He’s lucky he isn’t an asshole outside of the bedroom, cause if he was, Katsuki is 100% sure he’d be getting decked right about now. 

“Christ just let me breathe a second,” Katsuki grits. “I’m fine.” 

Kirishima raises a brow, rubbing his skin. “Not like the boys you usually fuck huh?” 

Katsuki glares, again, and out of pure spite sinks back down until he gags. 

Kirishima’s laugh morphs into a moan, and despite himself, Katsuki feels his heart pound a little at the sound. It’s really unfairly fucking pretty. He furrows his brow and works his jaw left to right and then opens it as wide as he can. 

That weak laugh rings through Katsuki’s ears again, “I’ll take that as a no.” 

The hand on the back of his neck grips him more firmly, and it makes Katsuki’s brows draw in more, out of nerves or arousal or focus he isn’t sure. He just lets his instincts take over, moving his head and his tongue and trying to keep his teeth out of the way.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty Katsuki,” Kirishima breathes, like he has no air in his lungs. “God look at you..” 

Katsuki knows if his mouth wasn’t stuffed as full as it is, he’d be red as a fucking beat. He knows it. His heart is racing in his ears. Quit with the fucking compliments already. 

“You’re so hot too,” Kirishima continues anyways, and Katsuki would glare at him but his eyes are starting to get watery with how much he’s gagging. “What I wouldn’t give to- to tear you apart.” 

It’s shaky but dark, his voice, and Katsuki just barely resists making some sort of noise in response. Tear him apart? 

“Make you boneless-“ Kirishima cuts off in a moan when Katsuki chokes on an especially low bob. “Make you cry, bruise you up and..” 

Katsuki doesn’t know why, but for whatever reason he moans. 

He doesn’t want to fucking look into it. 

Kirishima laughs again, and that makes it worth it, and then the hand on the back of his neck is pressing, just the tiniest bit when Katsuki slides down. Just enough to encourage him. Possessive. 

“Are you sure you want to be mine, Katsuki?” 

Fuck why does that make his heart pound so much? It’s like his gut is swimming, he has to pull off again just to breathe. Kirishima massages the back of his neck. 

Be his? What does that mean? Why the fuck does it sound so enticing? Katsuki doesn’t want to belong to fucking anyone, he never has…

He seriously can’t bring himself to look up anymore. He feels way too fucking vulnerable. All this talk about possession and being torn apart and.. fuck Katsuki likes it, he likes it and it scares the shit out of him. He doesn’t want Kirishima to see him like that. 

Right. He licks a long stripe, base to tip, jaw sore and tongue exhausted, and nods. Cause as much as he wants to try and deny it, he does want to be Kirishima’s. 

“I’m sure,” he rasps, and then opens his mouth and sinks back down. 

He forces himself down halfway, until he chokes, until the tip starts to stretch his throat. He strokes the rest of it with his hand, easily, the whole fuckin thing covered in saliva. Kirishima moans and Katsuki feels it in his gut. 

His knees are starting to ache, and he feels weak and tired, but he really doesn’t mind. 

“Good,” Kirishima whispers, and guides him as he continues bobbing and sucking. 

The small praise travels down Katsuki’s spine like electricity. He shivers and tries to breathe, panting through his nose at the sudden arousal that shoots through him, completely strange and foreign.

As Katsuki swipes his tongue, he realizes that no one’s ever made him feel anything close to how Kirishima makes him feel.

Fuck, this shit is scary. They barely know each other and Kirishima already has his entire soul in one hand. 

What a terrifying thought.

Chapter Text

They talked a lot, after. 

Katsuki feels stupid a lot of the time with Kirishima. Well… inexperienced, at least. 

Kirishima let him use his shower. His shampoo and body wash smelled good. When he was done, they sat on the couch and talked. 

And yeah, Katsuki knows pretty much nothing. Everything Kirishima asked about Katsuki had no idea what he meant. Fuck, he did research so this wouldn’t happen. He decides he’s going to do more before the next time they see each other. 

Katsuki chooses ‘katsudon’ as his safe word. It’s Deku’s favorite food, and it tastes vile. 

Kirishima wants his to be ‘black’. He didn’t ask why Katsuki chose what he chose, so Katsuki doesn’t ask either. Even if he really wants to know. 

And then they part ways. 

It’s been a few days. Three, Katsuki thinks. He’s been more relaxed, and doesn’t really stress about much. He works. He even plays cards with the guys sometimes instead of reading by himself or organizing equipment. 

On that third day they had a pretty big call. A family of six whose house caught on fire from a gas leak. They didn’t have phones and Katsuki and their team were late to get there. 

He really fucking hates when they’re late. Even just minutes can mean the difference between broken pillars and a collapsing upper floor. It fuckin sucks seeing kids cry, and dogs bark as their homes go down in flames. It sucks to have to stand there and watch once there’s nothing left to do. 

When he gets home after, he has the urge to get off for the first time since seeing Kirishima. He’s tired and doesn’t want to do anything, his arms are sore and dirty from carrying burnt wood. Everything aches as he plops on his couch and grabs his phone. 

Oh. A text. 

Shitty hair : 

Hi! How was your day, fireman

Katsuki frowns at his screen. The fuck is that? Are they supposed to text each other casually like this, cause Katsuki is bad at texting. It’s a waste of time. He didn’t know being friendly was a part of the deal. 

Shitty. 

He replies anyway. Stupid Kirishima making him do new things. 

Shitty hair: 

Ugh really :( well if it helps at all I know you did your best! 

Katsuki huffs. It does help. He doesn't know why, and he sure as fuck isn't gonna let Kirishima know that it does. 

Speaking of Kirishima, actually, Katsuki should do research. He clearly wasn't looking in the right places before. The other night Kirishima asked if he knew what a flogger was, and sounding, and a bunch of other shit Katsuki had never heard of in his fucking life. 

Maybe he can find something he likes. Maybe he can get off to it too. 

He goes to a porn website. He's only watched porn like…fuckin twice in his life, but now that he knows this is about sex, he figures its a good place to start, even if it's sort of gross. 

And yeah, it's still gross. 

It's different watching it than being in it. Watching some little twink get tied up, or gagged, or whatever, is a lot different from what happened to him the other night. He's not so sure this is a good reference. The tops don't even talk. They don't ask about fuckin ‘colors.’ 

He looks up floggers. Apparently they're one of the leather things, sort of like a bunch of really thick, short whips at the end of a stick. 

Huh. 

He goes to a video. It's a home made one, shit quality, and there’s music over it so he mutes the sound. 

Katsuki’s nose crinkles as the top keeps hitting the boy strapped to the bed. It looks heavy, the flogger. It slaps down but the guy doesn't jump when it does. The skin gets more red, and more red, and more red. 

Red lines are painting the skin of his back by the time they're done. Katsuki’s eyes are wide. 

The top puts his dick in. It's gross, but then he touches the reddened skin and even though the volume is muted Katsuki can see the bottom lift his head and moan. 

... huh. 

----------

Katsuki’s phone buzzes loudly on the card table. 

Shitty hair: 

Katsuki! 

Shitty hair:

I know it's short notice but do you wanna come over tonight?

Katsuki takes in a quick breath and looks at his watch. 

“Holy shit is someone texting Bakugo?” 

5pm. Short notice is right. Can Katsuki do that? Does he want to? 

“Probably some poor girl about to get ignored,” everyone at the table laughs. 

“Fuck off,” Katsuki snaps up at the team. 

The fuck? Something happen? Katsuki types quickly. 

A hand on his shoulder and Katsuki slams his phone screen down on the table. Deku smiles at him, his stupid green eyes closed softly. 

“Kacchan, do you maybe wanna have dinner with Ochako and I,” he says. “We haven't hung out in months.” 

“No.” Katsuki crosses his arms and looks at his stack of cards on the table. “I fucking hate hanging out with you.” 

His phone buzzes. 

Shitty hair:

Nothing! I just don't have work and I have extra energy

Katsuki scowls. And you want to take it out on me? 

“Kacchan,” Deku nudges his shoulder and Katsuki smacks his hand away. The stupid idiot just pouts at him. 

“Ugh,” Katsuki rolls his eyes and opens his phone again. 

Shitty hair: 

I can if you want me to.

Katsuki's body heats up, heart leaping down into his gut. 

“Just dinner Kacchan. We can even go for curry?”

“I'm busy tonight,” Katsuki snaps distantly. Fantasies of Kirishima snapping at him, angrily, against the shell of his ear, of him holding him with a firm grip on his neck-

“Again? Like the other night when you had to leave early?” Deku’s voice is tinged with worry but Katsuki just types out that he’ll be at Kirishima’s at 9:30.

“Maybe. Fuck off.”

Deku sighs as Katsuki gets up to go wash dishes. Stupid Kirishima. Now he's all anxious and buzzing with energy. He can feel Deku’s nervous eyes on his back as he turns on the water and he glares at the plate he picks up.

“You aren’t… getting caught up in bad stuff, are you Kacchan?”

Define bad stuff, Katsuki thinks bitterly.

--------

Katsuki only knocks once before the door flies open. 

Kirishima isn’t wearing a shirt. He has sweats on and a fucking red kimono , and Katsuki is about to insult him but before he can even look up at his face to do so he’s being swept into a rough kiss and pulled inside. 

His breath is stolen before he even knows it, held flush against Kirishima’s body with one hand tight around his waist and another at the back of his head. 

It’s almost bruising. It makes Katsuki’s whole body warm, makes his head pleasantly quiet as he’s kissed within an inch of his life. His hands are holding onto broad shoulders for dear life, and he hears the door shut behind him but Kirishima clearly shows no signs of wanting a break. 

Katsuki gives it another few seconds before tearing himself away and panting. He needs to fucking breathe. 

“Jesus fuck Kirishima,” he pants, blinking at the glass door to the balcony across the way as Kirishima dips down to kiss his neck. 

Kirishima hums against his skin, lips warm and smooth. 

“What’s wrong with you,” Katsuki grits out trying to look at him.

“Missed you,” Kirishima smirks into his skin. He brings Katsuki closer, so tight it starts to fuckin squeeze him. 

Katsuki chuckles though, a smirk dancing on his lips, and his head tilts back. He’s always liked it when people kissed his neck. He really likes it right now. 

“Something funny?” 

Katsuki just smirks wider, eyes fluttering shut. “You’re fucking needy . That’s what’s funny.”

Kirishima tenses up. 

“Needy?” 

His voice is low again. Katsuki’s heart skips a beat but he’s so amused he doesn’t stop smirking. He forgot how fucking hot that low voice was. 

“Yeah,” he smirks. “Didn’t even fuckin let me say hi.”

Kirishima drops his forehead against Katsuki’s shoulder and huffs something that resembles a weak laugh. “Maybe I just missed kissing you.” 

“It’s barely been a week,” Katsuki sneers. 

God he feels great. His heart is pounding in his chest and he feels wanted. Like no one has ever wanted him before. 

“It’s been eight days, actually,” Kirishima says. He’s smiling. “I’m not needy.” 

“Then let go of me.” 

Kirishima tenses up again. The air is dead silent, a clear tell that he absolutely is not going to do that and Katsuki is absolutely right. 

Katsuki digs his nails into Kirishima’s arms and leans back just enough to nibble at his earlobe. He likes when people do that to him. 

“Not saying it’s a bad thing,” he growls, voice low and rough. “Means you want me.” 

Kirishima huffs against his skin. His fingers close around locks of hair at the back of Katsuki’s head where he was previously just holding him. 

“I do want you.” 

Katsuki’s smirk widens. “Oh yeah?”

Kirishima is panting into the crook of his neck now. If Katsuki isn’t mistaken, he might even be hard too. 

“Are you okay if we just jump right into it,” Kirishima huffs. 

Katsuki nods. “Into fucking what exactly?”

Kirishima tugs his head back by his hair and Katsuki hisses, arousal shooting down his body. 

“I want to fuck you.” 

Katsuki feels the air leave his lungs. He tries to keep focused, even as Kirishima’s dick presses fully against his upper thigh. He likes feeling powerful. He wants to keep being powerful. 

“Who says you’ve earned it,” he breathes, though its monumentally weaker than he meant it to be. 

“Have I not?” 

“I don’t know,” Katsuki pants. Fuck . 

Kirishima starts kissing his neck again. “What can I do to earn it, then?” 

Katsuki blinks up at the ceiling, scalp burning from Kirishima’s harsh hold on him, and he’s definitely hard now. Kirishima is too. How can he earn it? 

Fuck, he sort of already has but Katsuki doesn’t know how he did it. He doesn’t know what to say. It’s sort of an open invitation to get Kirishima to do anything he asks but he’s not sure what he wants. 

Kirishima suddenly stops kissing his neck and pecks his cheek. “You think too much.” 

Katsuki scowls up at the ceiling. “I do fucking not.” 

“You do. Did you think a lot last time?” 

Katsuki feels his heart stutter in his chest. Damn it. No, no he was barely thinking at all last time. 

“We don’t need to. I’m okay with waiting,” Kirishima says genuinely. 

“No,” Katsuki scoffs. He’s frustrated but he doesn’t know why. “Fuck.” 

“Katsuki,” Kirishima says. “I’m here to get you out of your head okay?” 

“What does that mean,” Katsuki growls. He’s hard and he’s feeling oddly angry and he isn’t sure why. 

“It was nice not to think right?” 

“I guess.” 

Kirishima lets his grip on the back of his head go a little, just so it doesn’t hurt as much. “What helped you stop thinking last time?”

Katsuki frowns, closing his eyes, tries to think back. In retrospect he wasn’t thinking for a good portion of that night, but he remembers really blanking out when they sat back to chest. When Kirishima took his wrists and started whispering in his ear. 

And it’s embarrassing, but it was probably the wrists being held more than anything else. 

“When you held my wrists together,” Katsuki whispers, face starting to burn in mortification. 

“Did you like that?” 

Katsuki makes himself nod. 

“Do you want to try something a little more than that?” 

“Like what,” Katsuki says, even quieter. His heart is racing. 

“I can show you what I have, if you want,” Kirishima says, just as quiet. 

“Whatever.” 

“Hey,” Kirishima says. He lets Katsuki go a little more and pulls him close again, and then presses their foreheads together. “It’s okay. We go at your pace.” 

Katsuki glares at him, faces too close. His big red eyes are closed but he’s still unfairly gorgeous. 

“I’ve never introduced someone to BDSM like this,” Kirishima says quietly. “I don’t want to push you too quickly or anything.” 

“You’re fucking not,” Katsuki glares harder, pinching a muscle between his fingers. “I want to see what you have, asshole.” 

Kirishima visibly pouts like a child, “you said ‘whatever’ though.” 

Katsuki feels heat flood his face. Damn it. 

“I… fuck, look I have trouble being honest sometimes about getting excited okay? ‘Whatever’ usually means I’m down for it.” 

“Oh,” Kirishima suddenly pulls back, and smiles at him so purely and genuinely it forces Katsuki to look off to the side. “Got it. So no doesn’t actually mean no, is what you’re saying.” 

“Tch.” 

Kirishima laughs. “Well fuck! Good thing we have safe words now.” 

God Katsuki is so red. Fuckin bullshit. This whole thing. Bullshit. 

“So yes, you wanna look? You can pick out anything you like,” Kirishima smiles. It’s innocent. Like he isn’t talking about taking Katsuki to look at his personal bondage equipment.  

Katsuki glares, and spits out of spite, “ No.” 

Kirishima laughs again. “Okay good.” 

He slides around Katsuki again, just like he had last week, smooth like a fucking snake so they’re pressed together and mentally Katsuki rolls his eyes. Is this like their fucking thing now then? Back to chest? 

Hands slide down Katsuki’s arms and take both his hands lightly. Elegantly. He holds them from underneath, fingers lightly dancing with Katsuki’s. The way Kirishima holds them makes Katsuki’s hands look fragile and beautiful and he frowns. 

A kiss to his neck. “Let’s go then.” 

Katsuki looks back over his shoulder at him and scowls. “Aren’t you gonna let go of me, asshole?” 

“Nah.” 

God his smile is so cute. So fucking innocent. His eyes are closed and his lips are stretched wide, cheeks bubbly and gorgeous. Kirishima starts forcibly walking Katsuki forward and around the corner and it occurs to him this is just another small thing, another small way for Kirishima to guide and own him. Walking together. 

That smile is not as fucking innocent as it looks. 

He keeps toying with Katsuki’s hands and fingers delicately as they walk. It’s not awkward, walking in this position, but it should be. Katsuki wonders why it’s not. 

They get to the bedroom but Kirishima doesn’t stop. They turn and head to the walk-in closet next to the en-suite bathroom and Katsuki’s heart starts pounding quicker. Kirishima lets him go to flick on the light, but he’s sliding back under his hand right after. 

It’s huge. Kirishima has a lot of clothes, but they’re mostly work out gear. Some suits. 

Katsuki’s gaze zeros in on the tall black dresser in the center of the closet, pressed against the back wall. Like a daunting evil chest. 

“You froze up,” Kirishima says, near his ear. He sounds suggestive. “Is it intimidating?” 

Katsuki’s breath is coming quicker. Yeah it's fucking intimidating. It looks fucking cursed. Like something out of a horror movie. 

“There better not be fucking knives in there,” Katsuki forces out, trying to stand tall. Kirishima starts walking them towards it. 

“No,” he laughs lightly. “I'm not into that stuff, don't worry.” 

Katsuki distantly wonders if he has a flogger in there. 

They get up close. Katsuki feels light and strange. He stares down at it like he's never seen a fucking dresser in his life. 

“Open the first drawer, pretty boy.” 

It's not up for debate. It's low and serious and clearly means no bullshit. Katsuki huffs in spite, face raging with heat again. 

He lets go of Kirishima's hand and opens the first drawer. Hates himself for doing what he's told. 

Okay, maybe he actually doesn't hate it that much, but fuck off. 

Its all black, inside. Black straps, and black metal, and black silk. Katsuki’s eyes catch on the only color, a cherry red ball gag. He gulps. 

He pays more attention to the rest of it. There are ropes. Silk ties. Most of the black metal are different sets of handcuffs. 

“What do you see?” Kirishima purrs into his ear. He's radiating that control again. The kind that makes Katsuki's knees weak. 

“Are all these supposed to go on me,” Katsuki says, raspy and weak. 

“Not all at once,” Kirishima smirks. “Do you like any of them?”

Katsuki glances at the ball gag. He's never been gagged. But he likes being quiet, and when he saw that guy at the club moan while he was gagged it made his stomach erupt in butterflies. 

Fuck. Should he… 

Kirishima seems to read his mind. Maybe he tracks where Katsuki’s eyes are, or something, but he picks up the gag and Katsuki holds his breath as it's held in front of his face. 

“I'm surprised Katsuki. I didn't peg you for the type,” Kirishima smirks, velvety and evil. His lips are right next to Katsuki’s ear again. 

“I….” 

“Wanna see how it feels?” 

“I wouldn't be able to say the safe word,” Katsuki says quietly. 

“We use three snaps if you can't speak,” Kirishima says against his ear. “I'll remove the gag and if you still want to stop you can fully safe word out.” 

Okay. Yeah. Okay. 

“Do you want to try it baby?” 

Katsuki huffs breathlessly. He can't look away from the gag. It's like…the epitome of kinky. If BDSM could have a look, Katsuki thinks it'd be this cherry red ball gag. He's so entranced by it he can't even really care that he was just called ‘baby.’ 

“Yeah,” he forces his gaze away from it and back down to the drawer. There are these cuffs, leather, one of them is huge and one of them looks appropriate sized for a wrist. 

“What're those,” Katsuki nudges his head toward the corner the cuffs are. 

Kirishima hums and picks them up with his other hand, caging Katsuki between his arms. Holding cuffs, and a gag on either side of him. 

“Thigh cuffs. Keep your wrists pinned to your thigh,” Kirishima says casually. Katsuki’s breath catches again at the thought. 

“They're good for beginners too, you know,” Kirishima smirks, leaning close and kissing behind his ear. 

Katsuki is suddenly very aware of how hard he still is. 

Fuck. Why is he hard? They're just looking at shit. They're just…is it wrong of him to get so hot thinking about being dominated? Is there something wrong with him? Has he completely fucking lost it? Is he bored? Is he-

Kirishima drops the gag and is suddenly gripping his jaw firmly, and shaking him just a bit, and he takes a sharp breath. 

“Quit it,” he says lowly. 

How the fuck did he know Katsuki was thinking? 

Katsuki starts panting. “What'd I do?” 

“You were panicking. Talk to me.” 

“I-I wasn't panicking,” Katsuki breathes. His eyes flutter shut and his brows draw together. 

“You were about to. Tell me what it was about, now.” 

Katsuki's knees threaten to buckle. He doesn't want to, really, he can feel his hands tighten where he's holding onto the edge of the drawer, but he's forcing himself to take a breath anyways. He doesn't want to say anything but he doesn't want Kirishima to be disappointed in him more. 

“Is there something wrong with me?” He breathes. 

“No,” Kirishima says, voice dropping and getting softer. “Of course not. Why would you think there was?” 

“I want to try all of this,” Katsuki gasps, heart pounding in his ear. “I don't think that's normal.” 

“It's normal,” Kirishima drops the cuffs too, and grabs his wrists and crosses them across his chest, wrapping both his arms around Katsuki in a hug. 

And fuck. That feels good. He breathes out a shaky breath and leans back against the full body behind him. The Kimono is really soft. 

“I promise. If it helps, I own all of this stuff you want to try. So if wanting to try it makes you abnormal, I must be crazy.” 

Kirishima is smiling against his shoulder, and all the tension drains from Katsuki’s body. He's right. He's fine. 

They just stand there for a while. Kirishima let's him think. Let's him calm down, maybe. 

“You okay?” 

Katsuki nods. “This shit is just so different from what I'm used to.” 

“That's okay,” Kirishima says. “You need to talk to me about that stuff. You know that right?” 

Katsuki nods. 

“Let's talk then, okay? What do you feel like doing tonight.” 

Katsuki swallows heavily. His eyes slowly reopen and he looks back down into the drawer. He bites the inside of his cheek. 

“Let's make a new rule,” Kirishima says. His voice is tinting a little dark again, but it's still cautious. “If you don't tell me what you want, you get nothing.” 

Katsuki tries to look at him but the angle isn't right. “ Nothing?” 

“Nothing.”

“Ugh.” 

“Katsuki,” Kirishima straightens up, and stops hugging him. He grabs his jaw again and Katsuki's breath hitches. “Your brattiness is endearing. Really. But until you're comfortable, I'm not gonna tolerate it anymore. Understand?” 

“Brattiness?” Katsuki’s heart is pounding. Who the fuck gave Kirishima the right to be so smooth and so hot so fuckin easily? 

“Yes. Your want to rebel and resist and deny. Even if you don't mean it.” 

Katsuki huffs in frustration, and he scowls at the black dresser in front of him. “I've always fuckin been like that.” 

“I like you like that,” Kirishima says firmly. “But you need to be more honest with me, and that's not going to happen if I don't put my foot down. Once we find a rhythm you can be the biggest brat you want.” 

Katsuki frowns. “You want me just to sit and take it then?” 

Kirishima grips him harder and makes his heart skip a beat. 

“Are you not listening to me again Katsuki? I said be honest with me. Not sit and take it. Quit putting words in my fucking mouth.” 

Katsuki loses his breath in a quick exhale. He feels weak and nods against Kirishima’s strict grip on his jaw. 

“Alright.” Kirishima’s voice is dark now. “Now be honest , do you want to use either of these tonight?” 

Katsuki nods again. Squeezes his eyes shut and tries to breathe normally. Honestly? He wants to use them both. He wants to use the cuffs and then when Kirishima splits him open he wants to hear what he sounds like around a gag.

“Which one.” 

“Both,” Katsuki breathes.

Kirishima’s grip on his jaw falters just a bit. “Both?” 

Katsuki swallows thickly. Fuck this rule. It's hard. Now to get what he wants he has to say it out loud. 

“I want the gag,” Katsuki forces himself to breathe. “But only when you..w-when you fuck me.” 

Kirishima stills. 

The air is heavy and foggy. Katsuki can hear his own heartbeat in his ears, and he can feel Kirishima's harsh breathing behind him as his words hang in the air. He's trying really hard not to take them back out of embarrassment. 

“You’ll let me fuck you?”  Kirishima grumbles, voice like rocks. 

Katsuki gulps. Fuck. God. “I want you to fuck me.”

Kirishima drops his jaw then, and his forehead is dropping to Katsuki’s collarbone. 

“Hah,” he laughs once, weakly. “I didn't think that rule through. You being blunt is doing things to me.” 

Katsuki pinches his lips together and looks off to the side. His face is so warm. He hates how often his face heats up around this asshole. 

“I'll fuckin stop then.” 

“No way,” Kirishima says under his breath. “C’mere.” 

Kirishima spins him around and is kissing him again, with all his might, so strongly it pushes Katsuki’s head back so his neck is stretched at a shitty angle. Stupid Kirishima being taller than him. Katsuki grumbles against his lips, arms trapped between their bodies as Kirishima holds him far too close. 

Kirishima pulls back so Katsuki can breathe, but only for that. He dives back in like a starving man and if Katsuki wasn't so fucking nervous he might even smirk again. 

“You're a really good kisser, you know that right?” 

Maybe, just maybe, Katsuki has some claws in Kirishima too. 

Probably not. He said he has partners like this all the time, but it's a nice thought. 

“Shut up,” Katsuki grumbles, lips still touching. You are too, is what he means. Kirishima smiles. 

“Alright,” Kirishima rolls his shoulders back and ducks around to speak in his ear, almost like he knows that doing so fucks with Katsuki. “Go get on your hands and knees then.” 

Katsuki’s breath catches and he scowls. “Excuse me?” 

“Strip. Hands and knees on the bed,” Kirishima repeats, voice even and low. “You can do that right?” 

Ugh. 

Katsuki pushes him back and storms past him into the room. He hears Kirishima chuckle behind him but he doesn't care. Stupid asshole. 

Katsuki strips. He's still hard and he hates himself for it. He's glad he had a chance to shower and clean before coming here this time. He crawls onto the bed though, everything open and exposed and hates it. It feels shitty and vulnerable and not like him at all. He doesn't want to wait with his ass in the air like a bitch. 

He ends up sitting on the edge of the bed, legs hanging off the side laying back with his arms over his eyes. Fuck if he's never felt so naked in his life. 

“That's not hands and knees.” 

Kirishima’s voice breaks through the silence of the room and Katsuki lifts his head up quickly. He's holding things behind his back. It makes Katsuki even more nervous, somehow. 

“I thought we weren't gonna be a brat tonight?” Kirishima smiles, that stupid fake innocent one again as he walks towards Katsuki. His gray sweatpants hide nothing . 

“It's fucking mortifying to wait like that,” Katsuki glares. He sits up fully. Fuck, Kirishima really looks good tonight. Katsuki wants to lick his whole torso. 

“That's kind of the point,” Kirishima nods towards the head of his bed, encouraging Katsuki to move into position. 

Katsuki stays still. His dick is jutting out strangely and he hates it but he isn't moving until he knows what's behind Kirishima’s back. 

“What're you holding?” 

Kirishima raises a brow and smirks, like he's talking to a stupid child. “Things we need.” 

Katsuki narrows his eyes. He’s starting to get a knot in his throat. 

“I have to leave some mystery to it baby,” Kirishima smiles. Too evil. 

“Quit calling me baby.” 

Kirishima's eyes open and they're dark. All the amusement leaves his face. The air thickens, and stills, and suddenly Katsuki can practically see the shift in Kirishima. Easy going to firm and unrelenting. And angry. 

“Keep fucking talking, Katsuki, and we stop. I thought we just went over this. Turn around, now.” 

Fuck Katsuki loves when he curses. It's so rare and it makes his cock throb, and so far it's proven to get Katsuki to do whatever he wants. It does now, too. 

His face is red again as he moves back up the bed and flips around. His brows draw together in discomfort as he lifts fully onto his hands and knees, as he feels Kirishima shift to sit up behind him, right where he'd have a perfect view of his ass. 

There's a thud and metal clinking on the bed behind him as Kirishima drops whatever he brought next to him. Katsuki wants to look back but he's never felt so exposed or embarrassed in his fucking life. He feels like a bottom. He.. 

He feels fucking submissive. 

“Fuck youre so hot,” Kirishima breathes. It sounds weak and heavy and makes Katsuki feel just a little bit better. 

“No dirt today.” 

Katsuki grimaces, “no. I had time to shower.” 

“I knew you smelled sweeter than last time,” Kirishima mumbles. A hand is placed on the center of Katsuki's back and he's grateful its not any lower. “Don't be embarrassed.” 

“Too fucking late,” Katsuki mumbles. Kirishima tsks, and Katsuki’s heart skips. The hand leaves. 

And then suddenly, almost as quickly as Kirishima’s dominant side comes and goes, Katsuki’s arms are being grabbed out from under him and his face is slamming down into the sheets. 

“What the f-”

“You wanna make me gag you right now ? Huh?” Kirishima holds his wrists down against his hips. His voice is dark. Darker than last time, even. 

Katsuki stops breathing, and his eyes go wide just slightly at the threat. He shakes his head. His head is turned to the side and he blinks at the sheets in front of him. 

“Speak up.” 

“N-no I don’t want that,” Katsuki gasps on instinct. His eyes widen a bit more in shock at his own weak voice, and how quickly it came out. 

“Good.” Kirishima wraps something thick and leather around his thigh and fiddles with it to keep it in place. “Another rule. Starting tonight, when I speak to you, unless told otherwise you will say ‘yes sir,’ or ‘no sir.’ Understand?” 

The sheets in front of Katsuki’s face are tilting as Kirishima finishes and moves onto his neck leg. As his words wash over him. 

“Y-you want me to call you sir?” 

The buckle pulls the second thigh cuff tight and it feels really fucking weird. 

“No. You will call me sir, Katsuki.” 

Katsuki makes some sort of noise. He doesn’t want to look into what it exactly was. He’s panting, and he’s so hard, his ass is in the air, he just realizes. 

“Color,” Kirishima says, just as firm as everything else. 

Color? Oh right...fuck.. 

“Green,” he breathes. 

“Green what?” 

Katsuki gulps. One of his wrists are placed in a leather cuff but not locked. “Green.. sir.” 

And fuck that’s a big blow. To his ego or his pride or what, Katsuki doesn’t know. He hates how weak he feels. He wants to tremble but he isn’t letting himself. 

The wrist cuff is locked into place. The leather is warm and sort of tight around him, but not uncomfortable. It’s thick and plush. 

“Go on. Pull at it,” Kirishima says. 

Katsuki does. He forces his eyes shut tight as a wave of arousal shoots down him from the top of his head. He can’t get his wrist more than an inch from his thigh. Both ends of the cuffs tug against his skin when he tries, and metal clinks from where they’re held together. 

Each tug makes his head feel heavier. 

“How is it?” 

“Strange,” Katsuki whispers. It’s a weird position. It keeps him bent like he’s presenting.

“Bad strange?” Kirishima leans around him and pops into his frame of vision. His face is red but not an embarrassed red. 

“No.” Katsuki blinks at him. He’s pretty. His eyes are a really pretty shape. 

“Do you want to keep them on?” Kirishima says, a bit more gently. 

Katsuki nods. 

Kirishima smiles a little and one of his eyebrows raise. “Your head quiet now?” 

Katsuki frowns a little. “Asshole.” 

A big snakes up to his thigh, right above the cuff, and pinches. Katsuki squeaks and jumps away from it, it’s sensitive somehow, more than usual. 

“Try again.” 

Katsuki squeezes his eyes shut and grits his teeth. “S-sorry, fuck. It’s just fuckin instinct.” 

“Then change the instinct ,” Kirishima snaps. The hand slides up and fingers just barely, barely, like the touch of a hair, glance along the underside of his cock. 

Katsuki is pushing back immediately. He isn’t sure if he imagined it or not, it was so light, but now he needs it. 

“K-Kirish-“

“I asked you a question. How do you respond?” 

Katsuki gulps. His breath is coming quick again. He opens his mouth and pants into the sheets. He can do it. He needs to do it. If he says it Kirishima will touch him. 

“Y-yes sir,” he says, as quiet as he can. 

“Is your head quiet?” 

Katsuki furrows his brow. He just said yes right? He just told him it was. “Yes sir.” 

Each time he speaks, each time he says that damn word it makes his heart throb. It makes his gut twist. He isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. 

Regardless, Kirishima is wrapping his hand around him and he moans with relief. So strange how one touch from Kirishima can make him moan. No one else does that to him. 

He strokes with a firm hand, just like he had last time. His hand is sliding between Katsuki’s spread legs, upside down, and Katsuki’s hands tug at the cuffs. Subconsciously trying to come up and support his upper body. He can’t move at all. 

And fuck, if he thought he was at Kirishima’s mercy last time, he doesn’t know what that makes him now.

“And Katsuki?” Kirishima is against his shoulder blade. “My first name is Eijirou. Remember that?” 

Katsuki tries to breathe. He feels good. He remembers that. Eijirou. Pretty. Yup. He nods. 

Kirishima swirls his palm across the tip and Katsuki’s hips jump down. He’s being loud. He hates it. He sounds like a bitch. 

“Do you still want me to fuck you, pretty boy?” 

Fuck, oh fuck that’s right, Kirishima’s going to fuck him tonight. That’s right. Holy shit. Katsuki nods quickly. 

“Words, Katsuki.” 

Katsuki makes another stupid noise and takes a breath. He’s having trouble breathing, much less bringing himself to speak. He feels restless and needy and he doesn’t know if he likes it. The base of his spine is tingly.

“Yeah, ye-s sir,” he forces out, bucking into Kirishima’s warm grip. 

“Okay. That’s good. You’re doing good, baby, okay?” 

It’s soft and for whatever reason Katsuki’s slight manic feeling goes down with those words. They’re spoken into his skin. 

He wants to say thanks, and also tell him to fuck off, but he just ends up nodding. It’s hard to move his head because of the angle, and his neck is starting to hurt. 

“I’m going to finger you now, then,” Kirishima says, voice light and airy, casual, like it’s small talk. “Can you touch yourself?” 

Katsuki tries to focus. He doesn’t think so? He shakes his head. 

“You need to stay with me, Katsuki. Got that? Stay here.” 

Katsuki wants to ask where he would go, but Kirishima’s hand is leaving his cock and he’s making a gross noise of disagreement instead. 

“Try to touch yourself,” Kirishima’s voice dips angry again. 

“I can’t,” Katsuki gasps, trying to even roll his wrists and failing. 

“Fucking humor me .” 

Katsuki gulps. He focuses all that’s left of his fleeting energy into his arms and tries to turn the cuffs towards his crotch. His hands are on the sides, he tries to pull them forward and scoot them close enough to grab himself but the cuffs on his thighs are too tight. He can feel Kirishima’s eyes on him but all that’s in the room are the clinking of his cuffs and his own short, labored breathing.

When he gives up completely and huffs into the sheets, turning his head to the other side, Kirishima grabs his hands and brings them back to the sides for him. He’s sort of glad. That took an embarrassing amount of effort. 

He feels a bit more sane now, though. Somehow. 

“Good,” Kirishima grumbles. It sounds like it was more to himself than Katsuki. 

“You don’t want me to be able to?” Katsuki breathes. 

“No.” 

“W-will you do it?”

Kirishima snorts. Katsuki wishes he could see his face. “You sure do talk a lot. I can’t wait till you’re all gagged and quiet.” 

Katsuki’s breath hitches and he squeezes his eyes shut again. Fuck. 

“You plan on asking questions this whole time?”

Katsuki swallows thickly and squeezes his fists, tugs at the cuffs and curls his toes. “N-no sir.” 

“See,” Kirishima slides a hand sweetly along the skin of his ass. “You’re already learning. Very good, baby.” 

He breathes out, shakily. His nerves are starting to get to him. “E-Eijirou.”

“Katsuki.” 

“It’s been a long time, okay,” his voice is quiet, but the race of his heart isn’t. The blood pumping through his dick is starting to hurt. 

“I know. I’ll take care of you,” Kirishima’s voice drips back into a hint of kindness. “Do you trust me?” 

And Katsuki hates it, but for some reason, he does. He nods. “I trust you.” 

He bites into his lip as a bottle cap is popped open. Tries not to jump away from the touch of a well lubed fingertip pressing against his hole. A place that hasn’t been touched by another person in a really, really long fucking time. 

“Katsuki.” 

Katsuki grunts. Why isn’t he starting? It’s making Katsuki more anxious. 

“Tug your wrists,” Kirishima says. It’s firm but not angry. 

“W-why?” 

“Because I said so.” 

More firm. Borderline angry. Katsuki exhales heavily and tugs at the restraints. He tugs and tugs and starts to squirm, each time he does he feels more and more restless again. His head starts to get foggy. Kirishima is still just rubbing against him but not pushing in. 

“Like this?” He asks. Maybe he’s not doing it right? 

“Yes.” 

Katsuki’s brows draw together in frustration. What the fuck. He’s starting to want something inside him. Was that the plan? 

“You’re smooth here,” Kirishima says, darkly. His voice sounds like dark chocolate. “Pretty. Pink.” 

Katsuki wants to tell him to shut up but he holds his tongue. Honestly at this point he’ll just deal with compliments. It’s not worth losing traction. 

“ Keep tugging.” 

Katsuki flinches. Oh. He’d stopped. He starts up again, maybe even a little more desperately. 

And easy as butter, Kirishima slides in. 

All the way. 

It burns just a little. Just faintly. Kirishima has big hands, and big fingers. 

Katsuki’s shoulders draw up and his body curls in just a bit. His face is scrunched up, but honestly, it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. For whatever reason he had it in his head that it was worse. More painful. 

“That’s it,” Kirishima exhales. 

Katsuki feels himself clench down. It’s a prominent feeling. He grimaces in his head. He really likes when Kirishima curses. 

“Tight and warm. Just how cocksleeves should be, don’t you think?” 

And Katsuki’s breath catches, and his eyes flutter in time with his heart. What? Oh Jesus fuck… oh my god that was hot, it was so rude- 

“Don’t you think, Katsuki?” 

“ Fuck, yes sir,” Katsuki gasps. 

He doesn’t feel like himself. His spine is tingling again, and so are his toes, and as he tugs against the restraints he can feel his cock leak onto the sheets. 

The finger starts moving. In and out. Katsuki’s breathing is so heavy. 

“I like hearing you like this,” Kirishima says, lightly. Katsuki isn’t sure if he likes light Kirishima or dark Kirishima better. “You sound so nice addressing me like that.” 

Katsuki’s head swims. It feels like he’s right about to fall asleep, floating in some weird easy state. He might be drooling. He doesn’t fucking care. 

But then he’s being pinched again and he gasps and his eyes shoot open. 

“I told you to stay with me.” 

“W-what are you doing to me,” Katsuki gasps, staring unseeing at the sheets. Talking is so fucking hard. 

“You’re dipping into subspace,” Kirishima says. His voice is thick but it’s grounding, too. 

“I feel drugged,” he wheezes. His cock is aching, just dangling between his legs. Untouched. Unable to be touched. 

“Yup. That’s normal,” Kirishima leans and kisses his shoulder blade. “I promise I didn’t drug you.” 

Katsuki tries to breathe. Rationally, he knows that. But Kirishima keeps telling him to stay with him, and now he knows what that means. He wants to float now. Not move and float and- 

“You’re going to keep tugging at these,” Kirishima’s hand squeezes the leather around his thigh. “Understand?” 

“W-why won’t you let me?” Why won’t you let me float? 

“It’s your first time. I only have two fingers in you, pretty boy. I need you to last a little longer for me.” 

Katsuki furrows his brow, and it’s hard. Ugh. Wait.. did he say two fingers? When did that happen? 

“ Tug. No more arguing. I want to hear ‘Yes sir.’”

“Y-yes sir,” Katsuki breathes immediately. 

Katsuki tries to focus through the warmth. Focuses on making his muscles move again, focuses on rolling his wrists and then clinking the metal of the cuffs. He really likes the sound of it. 

“Do you want the third finger now, baby?” 

Katsuki huffs. He struggles more insistently against the bonds, his heart stutters at the feeling of it. Trapped. What did Kirishima say? Three fingers? 

Katsuki nods. Clenches down on what’s inside him and wonders why it’s not awful or as intrusive as he remembers it being. 

“I want to hear you say it. Do you want three fingers,” Kirishima snaps, suddenly right into his ear. 

“Y-yes! Yessir I want three,” Katsuki gasps. Holy fuck. He can’t stop struggling against the bonds now. He can’t stop moving. 

Kirishima presses the third fingertip inside him.

And ah, there’s the hurt. 

He jolts as a bit of burn and ache lances up his spine. He hiccups but he doesn’t want to acknowledge it in any way, and Kirishima runs a hand soothingly up the skin of his back. He pulls and pushes at the restraints but it does nothing. 

“Relax, Katsuki,” Kirishima says firmly. Like an order. 

“I’m trying,” Katsuki pants, brows furrowing. It hurts. He feels stretched out and uncomfortable. 

And Kirishima leans over him, and the hand snakes down around his side and skitters across his cock. 

“Breathe for me.” 

Katsuki tries to breathe deeper. He whimpers when Kirishima wraps warm fingers around him, right where he was aching, and it takes away the burn a little but when Kirishima strokes upwards Katsuki’s eyes fly open in panic. 

It’s too much. It’s too good. He’s gotten so close to cumming he didn’t even notice. 

He flat out flails, or flails as much as he can with his body surrounded and wrists restrained. “N-no! No wait-“

He thrashes, eyes wide. “No! S-stop.. not there I- f-FUCK stop I’m gonna cum- stop no no-“

“Oh yeah? How cute.” 

Katsuki’s eyes prickle with tears. It’s so much. He’s never felt so good in his fucking life and it’s so overwhelming, like everything is hypersensitive-

“S-stop, EIJIROU I-“ 

And then he’s cumming. His whole body curls, he basically folds in on himself and he screams into the sheets, forehead pressed against them. His orgasm is tight and snaps him in two. Cum splatters up and some of it even lands on his chest.

He tries to bring his arms up. Over and over and over. And he never can. It makes him cum that much harder. It makes it feel like it lasts forever. 

It doesn’t though. He wishes it had, but his eyes roll up into his head and he gasps for air and collapses. His legs are spread so wide his muscles hurt. Kirishima prevents him from falling into his own cum and Katsuki’s grateful. He turns and presses his cheek into the bed again. 

Fuck. 

“Such a slut, Katsuki,” Kirishima coos. Katsuki’s breath hitches and he tenses up. Slut ? “That was awfully fast, don’t you think?” 

Katsuki gulps. He doesn’t want to acknowledge that. 

“I barely touched you,” Kirishima says. It’s the most patronizing tone Katsuki’s ever heard. 

“T-that’s the problem,” he whispers. 

“Sorry?” 

Katsuki’s eyes bolt shut when Kirishima jams his fingers deeper all of a sudden. He feels stretched. And full. It hurts a little but it’s okay. He doesn’t actually hate it anymore. 

“So, youre saying that,” Kirishima starts thrusting his fingers. “If I had been touching you the whole time, you wouldn’t have cum like a needy little bitch?” 

Katsuki feels a moan get torn from his throat and he starts thrashing again against Kirishima’s quickening hand and harsh words. His heart is in his throat. 

“You wouldn’t have screamed? You wouldn’t have-“

“S-stop,” Katsuki gasps. It’s too much. It’s overwhelming. “I can’t.. s-sir I can’t do it-“

“No?” 

Katsuki’s fingers splay out, he squirms and whines and pushes his hands back like he can physically push Kirishima away. “I can’t cum again, I can’t-“

Kirishima laughs. 

“You can’t? Really? I disagree.”

“I c-can’t cum again. I’ve never been able to go twice like th- HN- “

Suddenly his whole torso is up in the air, eyes wide. 

Oh. 

What was that? 

Kirishima puts one hand on the center of his chest, now right at his side, and he leans close. 

“Yeah, I strongly disagree.” 

And then it’s happening again. Katsuki’s whole body jolts and something deep in his gut throbs and Katsuki is staring at the sheets where he had been. That’s.. Kirishima’s hitting his prostate. That’s what that is. No one has ever-

Everything in him breaks into a loud, uninhibited, involuntary moan when Kirishima does it again. His body melts, against his better judgement, so that the only way he’s still upright is because of Kirishima holding him. It makes his lower back ache but the rest of him feels so good. 

Katsuki moans again, and again, panting harder than he has all night, eyes still wide and burning, locked on the sheets under him but not really seeing anything. 

He’s slack against Kirishima’s hand. He feels his cock getting harder and harder again with each press of Kirishima’s fingers on that spot. He forces his eyes shut tight.

Kirishima’s hand pushes him lightly and his whole body bobs. His mouth is open and he knows the person moaning is him but he thinks that maybe, if he doesn’t look, he can pretend it’s not. 

“Awww poor baby, can't even hold yourself up anymore?” Kirishima coos in his ear. 

Katsuki’s wrists tug and tug. His head is swimming. Everything is feeling tingly. He swallows heavily and furrows his brow. Even his head is drooping but..

“I-I can,” he gasps. 

“Yeah? Go on and do it then.” 

Kirishima’s hand tries to back away from his chest and Katsuki tries to keep himself up but he can’t, he isn’t sure how to, not with the way his body keeps being doused with what feels like some warm thick liquid. He just falls forward back into Kirishima’s hand. 

“ Pathetic ,” Kirishima growls. It makes Katsuki’s face burn in shame and he winces. He is pathetic right now. He is. 

The fingers dig in deep, way deep, and Katsuki whimpers. 

Yeah. He whimpers . 

“So pretty like this though,” Kirishima sighs next to him. Katsuki can feel eyes raking across his skin. “My poor, pretty little slut.” 

Katsuki doesn’t know why, but he nods his head. He’s starting to feel really floaty again. 

Kirishima slides his fingers in and out of him a couple more times. They don’t go as deep with this angle, but Katsuki is so loose now. He can feel it and he doesn’t even care. 

Kirishima slows down and leans close, placing a kiss to his shoulder because they both know Katsuki can’t really keep his head up  long enough for him to kiss there. 

“Katsuki, baby,” Kirishima says, gently now. “You need to stay here, remember?” 

Ugh. Fuck that. Fuck fuck fuck. 

“I’m here, I am, I am, I am, I’m here,” Katsuki says quickly. 

Kirishima kisses him again, rocks his fingers once more. “I need you to be a good boy and sit up.” 

A good boy? Fuck. Katsuki furrows his brow. He doesn’t… he wants to be good and do that but he doesn’t know if he can. 

“Sit on your calves. It’ll only be a second.” 

Katsuki swallows heavily, trying not to fall over as Kirishima pulls his fingers out and helps guide him back. He sits on his calves and it takes everything in him to balance upright. 

Yeah, this shit is really weird. He can’t even sit upright? 

Kirishima moves away from him. The air around him is colder, and his head is spinning and heavy, and he feels his body start to sway and rock. He tugs weakly at his restraints as he straightens out. He hears rustling beside him, the bottle cap popping and even some clinking but he can’t properly decipher what the noises mean. 

Then he’s back though, right against Katsuki’s back. He brings a hand around and grabs his chin lightly, and Katsuki doesn’t even bother to open his eyes when he’s dragged into a kiss. Kirishima is warm. He’s still wearing the kimono, the silk is nice against his over sensitive skin, but he’s naked now other than that. Katsuki can feel his cock pressing against one of his cheeks, it feels weird but he doesn’t know exactly why. 

He opens his mouth lazily as Kirishima coaxes it open with his tongue. He tugs at his cuffs some more, leaning heavily backwards into the solid wall of muscle behind him. 

He feels really good. 

“Good boy,” Kirishima whispers into his mouth. Katsuki moans. 

He doesn’t have enough brain power to look into why he moans when he’s called names anymore. Good names or bad. He doesn’t know. 

Kirishima kisses him a little harder, and he trembles, but then he’s pulling away and right when Katsuki subconsciously leans over to chase him-

Something wide and plastic is being shoved into his open mouth. 

His eyes shoot wide. Kirishima has it strapped around the back of his head before he can do anything and he makes a small noise but all it does is make him harder. He sounds pathetic. His mouth and jaw are stretched and he can’t even hope to try and close them. Fuck. The gag means… means..

And then a hand is around his throat. And he’s moaning. It feels good. It’s not cutting off air but holding him there. Kirishima shifts so he’s perfectly lined up behind him, and Katsuki feels his hand fiddling with something, and then- 

And then Kirishima is splitting him open. 

Katsuki makes some sort of noise between a shout and a moan, eyes wide staring at the wall in front of him. It hurts. He’s so big, fuck he feels so much bigger like this, Katsuki thought he was so stretched out but even still Kirishima is big. 

“Shhh,” Kirishima coos in his ear. “Shh baby.” 

Katsuki moans, tugging and squirming, he can’t move his arms. His eyes roll into his head. Pain lances up his spine as Kirishima pushes in another inch or two and yeah it hurts but fuck… he feels so fucking good. 

He makes some noise of disagreement, meaning to protest, but he can’t form words around the gag. It makes him shiver. 

“You can do it-“ Kirishima’s hand tightens around his throat and his forehead drops to Katsuki’s shoulder in a moan. “ Fuck you’re so t-tight…” 

Katsuki is trembling. He feels… he… 

He can’t think of fucking anything, actually. He can’t pinpoint anything. He feels light. 

At some point Kirishima starts fucking him properly. Not too deep. Short and fast and Katsuki’s whole body is leaning forward again, his neck pressing into the hand around his throat. His eyes are closed. He’s floating. 

“So good,” Kirishima whispers in his ear. Katsuki shivers like he’s freezing. “You take cock like a natural don’t you?” 

Katsuki moans. His head sags more. 

“What do you say?” 

What does he say? Is he supposed to say anything? Oh right… no.. wait he can’t speak… 

“Yeh-ir,” Katsuki moans weakly. It takes so much effort to move his tongue around the gag. He’s exhausted and blissed out. He tries though. 

Kirishima chuckles into his ear. “Poor thing.” 

Katsuki wishes Kirishima had hit him with a flogger earlier so that his skin would be stinging. 

Wait. Fuck.

What? 

Kirishima’s grip starts cutting off oxygen and Katsuki chokes as he starts getting fucked harder. He forgot how powerless and intrusive being fucked feels.. he used to hate it… 

“You like this, pretty boy? Hm?” 

Katsuki moans. The gag muffles him but keeps him loud at the same time and he loves it. “Yech-hir…”

What would it feel like if his skin was raw? Would it hurt? Would it make it better? The crack of the leather would make it better….

Katsuki feels so strange. He feels like jello. He had been tugging against his bonds but he doesn’t have the effort to do it anymore. Kirishima starts going deeper, and at some point he hits his prostate again but Katsuki doesn’t have any energy to do anything but tremble and moan. 

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” Kirishima moans. Katsuki likes hearing him moan. He’s glad he’s making him feel good. “J-just the perfect little cocksleeve for me, aren’t you?” 

Katsuki’s head spins with embarrassment again. He likes being called that. He nods weakly, and moans, and distantly he feels his cock ache. 

The hand on his hip leaves and then cracks down on the skin of his ass and he moans. Shit. Why did that feel good? It tingles in pain but-

“Quit being a fucking rag doll. Answer me when I speak to you, slut.” 

Katsuki’s whole body shakes and he gasps, head tipping back and falling against Kirishima’s shoulder, 

“Ah..I-AH!” 

Katsuki shouts, eyes shooting open again as Kirishima starts pistoning into him. His moans are bumpy and cut off and he stares blankly up at the ceiling as his body is jolted and jolted. Kirishima is moaning louder, gripping him with iron hands and pulling him down with each thrust. He was told to speak but there’s no way he can, and Kirishima knows it. 

And the second orgasm is creeping up on him just as quickly, but it's somehow worse. Or better? He hasn't been touched since the first time he came, but he's close, he can't, holy shit holy fuck this is embarrassing- 

Kirishima is holding onto one of his pecs now instead of his neck, keeping him held close, and he coos in Katsuki’s ear as his noises get louder and louder. 

“Aww Katsuki,” Kirishima purrs. “Look how red your cock is. Do you need to cum? Huh? Do you like being my whore that much?” 

Katsuki keens. He can’t speak. He rolls his head towards Kirishima but can’t manage to open his eyes. 

“Why dont you beg, baby. Beg and I’ll reward you.” 

Katsuki honestly doesn’t have much pride left, not with how fuzzy he feels, but still, he squirms. Begging? Isn’t being bound and gagged enough? 

“Katsuki. I know you can. If you don’t, I can stop and punish you instead. Is that what you want?” 

Katsuki moans, furrowing his brow. Yes, he thinks. He wants to know what punishment would feel like. But he wants to cum more, he’s close, he gets closer with each thrust and it’s driving him crazy. Just one touch would do it. Just one. Just one. 

Honestly, he’s too far gone. Fuck pride. Fuck everything he thought he knew. All he needs to do is beg. 

“Hease-“ Katsuki chokes around the ball gag, and it doesn’t even sound like the word please, but he shakes his head and says it again. And again and again with each thrust of Kirishima’s hips. 

“Hease h-hir heaseheasehease-“

“Shh shh,” Kirishima chuckles. “That’s good baby. Such a good boy.” 

Katsuki whines. He begged . Why isn’t Kirishima-

“You’ve been such a good cocksleeve for me. I think you deserve to know how it feels, don’t you?” 

And then something warm and tight and slick is sinking down on his cock and Katsuki melts. 

It’s a fleshlight. 

Honestly Katsuki doesn't know much after that. He knows that he feels good all over. He can't pinpoint exactly when he cums because it feels like he's cumming the whole time. 

He only knows Kirishima cums when he’s dropped back onto the bed and vaguely he can feel throbbing inside him. Kirishima whispers into his ear and moans but he doesn't really register any of it. 

He's still floating when Kirishima pulls out. He's still floating when hands fiddle at the back of his head and the gag is dropped onto the bed, followed by a long string of saliva. He’s still floating when Kirishima runs his hands up and down the sweaty, sensitive skin of his back. 

“You need to keep breathing baby. Can you do that,” Kirishima is right next to his ear and he flinches. 

Katsuki gulps and nods. Breathing. He's breathing. 

He feels a bit more human by the time Kirishima starts unbuckling the cuffs around one of his wrists. He drops completely onto the bed when they're out, and Kirishima laughs behind him. His wrists and thighs feel exposed without the leather around them

And fuck he's shivering. The sweat drying on his body is making him cold and his ass is open. He wants..

“Here we go,” Kirishima smiles, laying down next to him and then dragging him up and onto his body. 

And yeah. That's better. Kirishima’s skin is so warm and the Kimono feels heavenly. Katsuki sighs against the skin of Kirishima’s chest. 

He's boneless. 

All he does is breathe. 

Jesus fuck. 

Kirishima's fingers gently card through his hair. It feels good. He's starting to be able to think again. Slowly. Maybe. 

“That was amazing,” Kirishima breathes. “Holy shit you did so good.” 

And yeah, he's fine cause he doesn't like those compliments. He grumbles in discomfort and Kirishima laughs. His laugh is so unfairly pretty. Everything about him is attractive. What the fuck is that about? 

And how the actual fuck did Katsuki get the honor to find out how attractive he is? 

“How are you feeling,” Kirishima says softly, scratching lightly at his scalp. 

Katsuki grunts. He feels like….melted hot sauce. Or some shit. He feels great. 

“Katsuki,” Kirishima says a little more firmly. 

“ Fuck I'm fine. Good. Fucking.. really good okay?” 

Kirishima giggles. Damn idiot is back to being an idiot already? How? 

“I'm not leaving but I'm going to get up real quickly, okay?” 

Katsuki frowns. No. He's comfy. Kirishima's body heat and skin is grounding. 

“I promise I'm not leaving. I'm getting you something okay?” Kirishima says softly against the top of his head. 

And he gets up anyways. He gently lifts Katsuki’s torso so he can slide out from under him and helps him back down onto the sheets. 

Katsuki grimaces as he feels the sheets under his cheek instead of muscle. For the first time he has enough energy to rub his legs together and stretch his arms a little, and immediately scrunched his nose when he realizes how much cum and lube  is on his stomach and cock and how sweaty he is. 

He hears noises from the bathroom. It sounds like the shower and Katsuki frowns deeper. Kirishima said he wasn't leaving, but he did. He just fuckin left Katsuki here and is taking a shower. 

Wait. Why does he care? Kirishima can take a shower. Katsuki isn't weak. He isn't-

He tries to lift up but his arms give out immediately and soreness lances up his body from his ass. Bitch. 

“Heyy, hey,” Kirishima says gently. He sits down on the edge of bed next to Katsuki and places a hand in his hair. “Where are you trying to go?” 

Katsuki forces his eyes open and looks up. The air stings but he glares anyways. “I thought you were in the shower.” 

Kirishima giggles and tilts his head softly. “Of course not. C'mere, I'll show you what I was doing.” 

Kirishima dips down and lifts Katsuki’s arm up. It lifts him completely and Katsuki winces and scowls in pain as he sits up and Kirishima swings his arm over his shoulder. Is this asshole planning on having him stand?

“I can't yet fucker-”

“I'm strong,” Kirishima says happily, wrapping an arm around his waist to help him swing around the bed. “I've got you.” 

And he does have him. He stands up and stands Katsuki up with him. 

It hurts to stand. It hurts more to walk. He's sticky and gross all over and his ass hurts and his legs hurt. 

Kirishima basically carries him over to the bathroom. He tries to walk, really, but his feet are dragging more than actually carrying any sort of his own weight. 

Katsuki looks up when they step onto the tile of Kirishima's bathroom floor. 

The tub is full. It smells like vanilla and caramel. There’s a thin layer of bubbles along the surface. 

A bath. 

“What is this,” Katsuki breathes weakly. 

“Aftercare,” Kirishima says brightly. 

Katsuki’s breath hitches. The fuck? Kirishima leads him in and they stand in front of the edge of the bath and Katsuki glares down at it. He doesn't take baths. It's not something he wants to do or has time for. 

“It'll help. I promise,” Kirishima says, leaning over and kissing his cheek. Internally Katsuki cringes but he's still out of it to do anything but stare at the water. 

“Okay,” he grumbles. 

If Kirishima says it'll help, it probably will. He helps Katsuki step into the bath and helps lower him down into the warm water. 

And fuck...yeah. It helps.

“Hoooly shit,” Katsuki sighs, sinking into the water, back against the ceramic. It's so warm. It feels like heaven, it smells like heaven. 

Kirishima laughs, and it's bright, and adds to the bliss. 

Katsuki breathes. The water is grounding. It feels fucking amazing. 

“Better?” 

Katsuki draws his face down. Yeah, it's a lot better. “Are you fucking magic or something?” 

Kirishima laughs again. A hand gently slides along his upper back and guides him forward, and then tilts his head back by his forehead and water cascades down through his hair. Warm water poured from a cup. 

“Aftercare is important after a play. I'm not magic. I'm just undoing damage,” Kirishima says softly. 

“A play?” More water. It feels so fucking good. Katsuki's eyes are heavy. 

“A scene. Sex.” 

“Oh,” Katsuki grumbles. Kirishima pets the water through his hair. 

“How do you feel?” 

Katsuki sighs. “My ass hurts.” 

“How are your wrists?” 

“Fine.” Katsuki lifts them out of the water. They're sort of red but it's faint. They don't hurt at all. 

“How about your head,” Kirishima smiles. 

He lets go and Katsuki sinks back against the edge of the tub and looks up at him. He's sitting on the edge of the ceramic, boxers and Kimono on. His spiked hair is falling out and he looks like a fucking God. 

“Quiet,” Katsuki glares off to the side. Kirishima hums. 

They sit in comfortable silence for a while. Katsuki moves around in the water a little just to feel it against his skin. 

Damn Kirishima’s bathroom is nice. Katsuki doesn't make that much money, and it irritates the fuck out of him that Kirishima is a personal trainer and makes more money than him. 

Ugh. He works tomorrow. The idea of walking much less being in gear… 

And Deku. 

Katsuki suddenly snorts. A burst of laughter bubbles from his chest and internally he's bewildered, he never laughs but he's just so fucking tickled and he doesn't know why. 

“What's so funny?” Kirishima smiles, big and bright.

Katsuki lets it die down enough to speak, waving his hand and clutching at his stomach. 

“De-Midoriya just fucking-“ he laughs more at the memory. “He thinks I’m in the fucking mafia cause of this-“

He bursts into another fit of laughter and Kirishima chuckles too, though it’s more out of fondest and maybe a little nerves?

“Who’s Midoriya? Your boyfriend?” 

Katsuki chokes. The laughter stops.

He turns and glares and Kirishima’s eyes go wide in fear. He feels better now. 

“Are you fucking kidding? I’d rather fucking die,” Katsuki snarls. Kirishima gives another nervous chuckle, and Katsuki’s eyes widen a little as a hand dips into the water and pulls his hand out to hold. 

“I don’t know man,” Kirishima says sweetly. “We don’t know each other that well yet, in retrospect. You can have a boyfriend if you want to.” 

Katsuki glares even though his face is getting hot again. Kirishima keeps fiddling with his fingers, holding his hand with both of his.

“You heard me right?” Katsuki frowns. “I said I’d rather fucking die. Midoriya’s my rival. We grew up together but I hate his damn guts. He disgusts me.” 

Kirishima hums pleasantly. 

Katsuki’s face warms more and he looks to the opposite side of the tub than where Kirishima’s sitting. “And I’ve never had a fucking boyfriend. Or girlfriend. I hate people and romance is stupid.” 

“Really,” Kirishima tilts his head, and one hand moves down to massage his wrist even though it doesn’t need it. 

“Yeah. Why the fuck are we talking about this?” 

Kirishima giggles. “We haven’t talked about it yet. I just wanted to make sure you knew you had the option-“

“Do YOU have a fucking boyfriend?” Katsuki’s face burns. Fuck why did he say that? It just slipped out. He has no control of his filter right now. 

“No Katsuki,” Kirishima says gently. “I told you, I focus on one person at a time. Remember that?” 

Katsuki looks down and glares at the bath water. Right. He’s that one person then. He isn’t sure if that makes him feel special or makes him feel shitty. 

“How was your first time in subspace, by the way?” 

Katsuki groans, melting in the tub. How was it? Fuck, he really doesn’t want to answer that. Kirishima already knows the damn answer anyways. 

“Just help me out of the damn tub,” he grunts, still purposefully not making eye contact. 

Kirishima laughs, bright and real and what the fuck why is his laugh like that? Who the fuck has a pretty laugh? That’s fucking ridiculous and Katsuki hates it.

“Yes sir!!!” 

———-

Kirishima helps him out of the bath. He lends him some pjs that are (embarrassingly) a little fuckin big on him. He makes Katsuki cup ramen and they sit on the couch and watch an American action movie. 

Kirishima tells him that he just started working at the club. That he’s forgetful and had to write it on the back of his hand just in case he forgot. Katsuki thinks he’s the biggest idiot in the world. 

He also talks about what he likes. Katsuki wants to pretend he doesn't care but honestly, learning that Kirishima has a weird love for popcorn and ‘manly’ superhero comics makes him feel better. 

And Katsuki sleeps in the guest bedroom. He doesn’t want to, really, he wants to fucking leave but with the way Kirishima has to support him every time he tries to take a step he knows it’s not going to happen. The asshole says he always lets people sleep in there if they need to, and Katsuki hates that. 

Regardless, it’s fucking nice to climb into a huge bed after everything. It's nice to spread out and feel warm and close his eyes after getting fucked within an inch of his life. 

Chapter Text

It quickly became apparent to him. 

“ Mmf! Mm mmmm-“

Kirishima was addictive. Maybe it was the thrill. 

Red eyes flutter up to his and he falls silent again. The tape over his mouth prevents him from speaking but it doesn’t prevent him from trying to. 

But after the last time, Katsuki can’t bring himself to wait more than 5 days before asking for more.

He’s wearing actual handcuffs this time. They’re metal and dig into his skin if he pulls too hard. They’re behind his back, and it hurts if Katsuki doesn’t keep his back arched. 

“Sorry, were you trying to say something?” 

Kirishima looks like actual satan. With his red hair, spiked up. His brilliant, bright red eyes. His evil, crooked smile. The way he’s just hovering over Katsuki’s cock, holding his thighs wide apart. 

Exactly where he’s been for what feels like hours. 

Katsuki furrows his brow and tries to glare down at him. His heart is racing, his cock is begging for attention, he’s panting so hard through his nose it’s difficult to breathe at all. And he fucking loves it. 

Kirishima hasn’t touched him at all. 

He’s kissed everywhere. He runs his hands all over his body, he spent forever sucking and biting at his nipples, he’s scratched, and come achingly close to touching, but he still hasn’t. And Katsuki’s cock hurts. 

And again he dives back down. It’s worse when he’s close. When he kisses and licks right next to where Katsuki needs him, right against the skin of his hip, or where his pelvis dips. When he’s keeping Katsuki’s gaze. 

Kirishima bites him again too, right on the skin of his sensitive thigh and Katsuki moans, weak and broken by now, and his eyes flutter. His head drops back against the pillow in defeat. 

“ MMMF.” 

He isn’t sure what the muffled noise means. Please, or stop, or Eijirou, or what. But he likes how he sounds. Better than the ball gag. He sounds like a pathetic, trapped boy. 

“Come on Pretty,” Kirishima coos, breath hot and enticing against his skin. “Use your words, and I’ll give you what you want.” 

And it’s torture. He can’t even break his lips apart to try and attempt at forming words. He squirms, cants his hips up but they’re pushed back down like always. 

“Mm!! M-mmmf-“

Kirishima clicks his tongue and pinches his side lightly, something he started to do to get Katsuki’s eyes back on him. 

“I don’t hear sir, in there Katsuki.” 

He’s starting to look angry again. Katsuki tilts his brows up. 

“Mmph,” he pants, firmly. He tries to say sir as much as he can without words. 

“Better,” Kirishima mutters. 

A finger snakes it’s way inward and Katsuki’s eyes widen as it makes contact and drags up the length of his cock gently. 

Honestly, the moan he makes is obscene.

“Look at this. So red. Poor thing. And all I’ve done is kiss you,” Kirishima sighs, like he’s disappointed. Pity. He looks longingly at it and Katsuki would sell his soul if it meant Kirishima would put him in his mouth...

“Shame,” Kirishima says wistfully. “A cock this big, and all you can do with it is rock your hips into the empty air.” 

“ Mmmmf!” And yeah, that was begging. But fuck, how can he even care? 

He isn’t as floaty as last time, but he is foggy. All he cares about is doing whatever it takes to get that warm mouth around him. 

Kirishima’s never blown him before. He really, really wants him to. 

And again, red eyes lift to meet him and Katsuki falls silent. Stupid powerful eyes. 

“Tell you what.” 

Anything. 

“If you can stand ten full seconds of me fiddling with this,” Kirishima rubs a thumb over one of his oversensitive nipples. “Without squirming or moving at all? I’ll let you cum.” 

Katsuki pants, and maybe he moans, he doesn’t know. Even just a thumb moving over the bud makes him jolt involuntarily. Can he do that? Fuck…

“Hm. I should’ve known better than to think you’d want it that bad.” 

Kirishima licks a solid, warm, wet stripe right next to his cock. 

“MMM! Mmm… mmph…”

Kirishima blinks up at him from under his lashes, not even moving his head an inch, and smirks. 

Christ. 

Katsuki tries to plead with his eyes. “ Mmf.” He’ll do it, he’ll do it. 

Kirishima suddenly launches up into his space, eyes dark and cheeks flushed with desire. One of his hands comes and cups his cheek and his thumb rubs across his cheekbone harshly. His eyes are darting all over Katsuki’s face and it makes his body flush with arousal. 

“Fuck you look so hot with this tape,” Kirishima grumbles. “It’s unfair. Really. You make me want to give you what you want.” 

Katsuki keens. Fuck. His heart leaps in his chest and his back arches as hard as it can up into Kirishima’s warm body. 

But suddenly hands press down on his biceps and pin him. It hurts his wrists but it’s okay. 

“I’ll hold you down. Make it a little easier on you.” 

Kirishima’s lips are right above his, and if there wasn’t tape in the way, Katsuki would try and kiss him. It makes excitement shoot down his body at the knowledge he can’t. 

“I’m going to tell you now though, Katsuki,” Kirishima purrs, tilting his head to the other side. “You’re gonna have to give into me if you want to last all 10 seconds.” 

Give into him? What-

And then he’s dipping down. Katsuki’s still pinned but his eyes fly open the second Kirishima swipes his tongue over his right nipple. 

Oh fuck. FUCK. He’s immediately whimpering, every inch of his body is screaming at him to flail and get away. Even with Kirishima holding him down. The urge is mind numbing. 

It hurts. It’s too much. Kirishima’s tongue is hot and wet and it’s way way too fucking much.

He focuses all his energy to his wrists, tugging against the cuffs with every ounce of energy he has. The metal digs into his skin hard enough to hurt, and he’s worried he might break the damn things, but he needs to do something. 

Kirishima sucks and swirls his tongue around the bud and then he has to curl his toes and roll his hands into fists too. 

And then, it occurs to him. Give up. Let it happen. Let it happen. 

Give in to me.

So he does. He closes his eyes and tries to breathe and forces the rest of his body to go slack. 

As soon as he does, Kirishima’s hands tighten hard around his biceps, and he growls. It’s possessive sounding and raw and unbelievably attractive but Katsuki barely even processes it. 

Kirishima sucks hard and pops off after the longest fucking 10 seconds of Katsuki’s life. It doesn’t even make him jolt. He’s floating again and he can’t care about anything. 

“ Fuck look at you,” Kirishima says, voice scratchy like rocks.

Katsuki turns his head to the side weakly and moans. He doesn’t even want to open his eyes but he makes his hips lift in the air to remind him. He did it. He did the ten seconds. Kirishima promised him. 

“So good for me,” Kirishima growls. “So easy.” 

“ Mmmph-,” Katsuki forces out his best attempt at ‘Eijirou.’

“That’s right baby,” Kirishima chuckles fondly. “You’ve earned it huh?”

He nods quickly. His cock is throbbing, and leaking, and it hurts. Katsuki’s heart starts pounding again and he slowly starts to squirm. Fuck his wrists hurt now. 

Kirishima kisses his cheek, and then his neck, and his chest, down down down, and yeah Katsuki is definitely squirming again. No more. 

“My pretty boy.” 

Kirishima coos, and then sinks down onto Katsuki’s cock. 

A single tear leaks from the corner of his eye along with a moan so loud that it rings in his ears. 

—————-

He ends up giving in and having dinner with Deku. 

Katsuki’s allergic to their happy, brightly lit home, so they meet at his favorite curry restaurant. It’s secluded enough that he can hear but not enough that he feels trapped if he’s alone with assholes he hates. 

Uraraka insists on coming along too. She’s been married to Deku for about.. Fuck, three years now? They all went to high school together, it’s been so long Katsuki loses track of time. 

“SO.”

And unfortunately, Uraraka is one of the most direct people Katsuki knows. 

Her big brown eyes narrow in on him like lasers and he bites his tongue instinctively. He holds her gaze as best he can. Stupid Uraraka. 

“What have you been doing, Kats.” Shes always so fucking direct. 

He made a promise to himself before coming that no matter how hard they pry, he won’t spill. This is something he wants to keep to himself. They wouldn’t fucking get it anyways. He’s never been involved with anything further than one night stands. 

“ Working ,” Katsuki growls through his teeth. 

Deku scrunches his nose and leans back against the booth. Uraraka’s eyes just squint further. 

“What about after work huh? Izuku told me you wanted to leave early last week. You’ve been claiming you’re too busy to have dinner with us-“

“I’m fucking here now aren’t I?” Katsuki spits. His throat is knotting up. “Mind your own fucking business.” 

“You’re telling me that you’ve been wanting more free time for your reading and gym time?” 

Katsuki grits his teeth. His hands are fisted tightly under the table. “I didn’t fucking come here to be interrogated. Why are you acting like my old hag, round eyes?”

“Cause you don’t talk to your actual mom. Sue us for being worried about you, Katsuki.” Uraraka’s eyes are bright with frustration and annoyance. 

“I fucking hate-“

“Yes yes we know. Hate being worried over. You’re not weak. We get it.” 

Katsuki wants to leave now. This shit is unproductive and makes him feel like crap. 

“Can we just have a nice dinner please? Both of you?” Deku sighs quietly. 

And yeah, whatever. It used to be different, but now if Deku uses that tired, sad voice Katsuki gets hit with so much guilt he stops whatever he’s doing immediately. 

“Whatever.” 

“Sure.” 

So they talk for a while. 

Uraraka tells them both about her job. She’s a teacher and has plenty of fuckin stories of idiot brats in her class. She talks to Katsuki, mostly, but he knows it’s because Deku hears most of these stories right after they happen. 

It’s sort of boring. Katsuki doesn’t care about kids. Uraraka has always been a talker. 

But Deku is staring at him. He’s pouting. His big green eyes feel like they’re boring into Katsuki’s soul and he really, really doesn’t fucking like it. 

“The fuck is it Deku?” Katsuki cuts off Uraraka’s story abruptly, holding Deku’s stupid green eyes in place. 

“N-nothing!” 

“You still want to fucking know, don’t you, you shitty nerd.” 

“N-no Kacchan! I swear! She was more worried than I was,” Deku’s big eyes dart over to his wife, who’s eyes bug equally as wide as they shoot over to Katsuki. 

She purses her lips in defense but Katsuki continues glaring at Deku.

“I thought you pressured her into asking. Since you’re too weak to do it yourself.” 

“Rude,” Uraraka snuffs. Katsuki ignores her. 

“I didn’t Kacchan!” 

“Then why are you fucking staring at me?” 

“A-ah..” 

Katsuki rolls his eyes. Stupid asshole. Really. Why are they still even friends? Sure they’re more like brothers at this point, but fuck, they never got along that well in the first place. 

Uraraka puts her palms flat on the table and leans forward. It’s clear she’s trying to be threatening but Katsuki just slinks back into his seat and crosses his arms. 

“Damn it just tell us. Did you pick a fight with a gang? Have you gotten into drugs? Alcohol? The Yakuza? A GIRL? Holy shit are you involved with someone!?”

Katsuki narrows his eyes and his nose scrunches in distaste. Fucking idiots. 

“No, no way,” Deku leans forward to and scoots close to his wife. “Kacchan would never be involved with someone.” 

“Who the fuck says I wouldn’t be involved with-“

He cuts himself off. It’s out before he realizes it. His eyes widen and their eyes widen and fuckin SHIT why did he do that? Damn it damn it damn it-

“Holy-“

“ Fuck, BYE.” 

He’s up and storming out before anything else can happen. He stares at his combat books like he could melt them with his stare. 

When he gets out of the restaurant he shakes out his hands. What the fuck. Why did he say that? Yeah, maybe he was offended for some reason when they said it was more likely he was in the fuckin Yakuza than with another person, but he swore to himself. He didn’t even fucking mean to say that. Now they definitely fucking know. 

Well. They don’t know everything. Katsuki steals himself not to tell Deku jack shit more about it when they work together in two days. 

———-

He doesn’t look at his phone until he gets home. It keeps buzzing but he knows it’s just fucking Uraraka trying to bug him further. 

When he sits down and pulls it out, he’s mostly right. But there’s also something from Eijirou too. His heart buzzes in anticipation. 

Shitty hair:

I got you something. 

It was only 10 minutes ago. Katsuki’s heart beats faster. What the fuck would he even get him? He doesn’t like gifts.

What is it. A fucking collar? 

He means it as a joke. He’s a firm believer that collars are for animals and weirdos. But Kirishima is typing right away and even despite knowing he meant it as a joke his heart is in his throat. 

Shitty hair:

Yes . 

And Katsuki chokes. Literally. Coughs on his own spit. His fingers start to shake as the hover over the keyboard. Fuck what does he say? He wasn’t expecting that. Does he… is that something he wants? Should he say no. He starts bouncing his leg, suddenly feeling incredibly weak and anxious. 

He looks up at the call button. He.. is it weird to fucking call? 

No. Fuck that. At the very least he wants to see what the damn thing looks like. 

Eijirou picks up on the third ring.

“Oooh? A phone call? How rare, Katsuki. Did something set you off, perhaps?” 

His tone is cocky, and Katsuki hates it. 

“ No ,” he snaps. And yeah, damn it, the anxiety is because he’s needy and wants to see him. 

“No?”

“I’m coming over tonight.” 

Eijirou laughs, bright and cute, and Katsuki scowls at his floor. “No you’re not. I have work!” 

Katsuki pouts but it’s fine cause no one can see. “At the..” 

“Club? Yeah. Till like one again. Sorry, Pretty.” 

“Don’t pull that shit,” Katsuki hisses, lowering his head and curling his fist as arousal suddenly shoots through him. Damn that nickname. 

“What shit?” Eijirou says brightly. 

“You know what the fuck you’re doing.” 

Another bright laugh. “I do.” 

A pause. Katsuki is still pouting. 

“You’re welcome to come with me, you know. To work.”

Katsuki’s breath catches. “But only if you want to.”

Katsuki bites his cheek. No, he doesn’t… they haven’t even taken it up a level in private. Katsuki isn’t sure if he-

“Katsuki, it’s okay. You don’t ever need to, but you sound frustrated so I thought I’d offer,” Eijirou’s voice dips into his sweet one. 

“Probably not yet,” Katsuki mumbles. His head is getting heavy. He feels hot. 

“Okay baby.” 

“...what does it look like?” And yeah, whatever. That was coming whether Katsuki wanted it to or not. 

“I’ll send you a picture,” Kirishima audibly smirks. Maybe his voice sounds deeper over the phone. 

Katsuki gulps. A collar. Jesus. That’s… 

Fuck it. 

“Eijirou,” Katsuki takes a breath and tries to sound firm. 

“Hm?” 

“I want you to be rough with me.”

“I am rough with you, Pretty,” Eijirou coos. 

“Be rougher then,” Katsuki’s face is red, his hands are shaking, fuck this is embarrassing. “I know you haven’t fuckin given me everything you’re capable of yet.” 

“Like what specifically, Katsuki?”

Ugh. Fuck. What specifically? Katsuki doesn’t know. No.. no he does know. Damn it. Damn it. 

Or you’ll get NOTHING. 

Katsuki gulps. 

“Do you have a..a flogger?”

Eijirou takes a deep breath, “Maybe.” 

Maybe? Is that a yes? He took a breath like it was, he’s probably just fucking with him then. Damn it. Fuck this conversation, honestly. 

“Then.. fuck. You know what I mean,” Katsuki’s anxiety is making it hard to breathe. His breath is so short he can’t force out what he wants to say.

“No I don’t. Really. You’ll have to spell it out for me”

And Eijirou is firm. Somehow gentle too, but more firm than anything else, and it’s starting to make Katsuki feel a little fucking heavy. 

“H-hit me. With it.” He grits through his teeth. 

“Hit you.” 

Katsuki’s face is burning with shame, and it really isn’t helping that he’s alone in his apartment right now. With a hard on. 

“FUCK yes, hit me, are you deaf? Stupid? I thought you were a fucking dom, do you not-“ 

“ Watch it, Katsuki. ” 

It’s so low, and such a harsh snap, that Katsuki’s teeth almost clatter with how fast he shuts his mouth. His eyes are wide, staring at his TV. 

“You’d be wise to remember there is a difference between the punishment you want, and the punishment you don’t,” Eijirou hisses calmly.

Katski swallows heavily. His heart is in his throat. What the fuck…how does this asshole have so much power and he's not even there? 

“You hear me?” 

Katsuki nods, and then realizes Eijirou can't hear him nod. “Y-yeah.” 

“I'll be rough with you then, Pretty,” Eijirou speaks a little louder. A little more casual. “But just know, I know how to deal with brats. Are you prepared for that?”

“Y-yeah,” Katsuki wheezes. Fuck he wants to touch himself all of a sudden but Kirishima would know. 

“So easy,” Eijirou whispers, clearly not meaning for Katsuki to hear it, but it makes his head spin anyways. He is sort of easy, huh. At least he is for Eijirou. 

“Okay. Katsuki?” 

“Hmph.” 

“I need to go now okay? I’ll see you tomorrow if you want.” 

“Okay,” Katsuki breathes. All he cares about it getting to touch himself soon. 

“I’ll send you a picture of your gift, got it?” Eijirou says deeply. 

And what the fuck. Katsuki has to squeeze his eyes shut and drop back into the couch just to prevent himself from moaning. What the fuck. 

“Okay.” 

Eijirou chuckles a little. “No ‘thank you?’ We’ll work on manners then.” 

Katsuki bites the side of his tongue. He’s this close to losing it. 

“Bye, Pretty,” Kirishima smiles audibly. 

“Ugh.” 

Katsuki hangs up and at the exact same as his thumb presses the red button on his phone, his palm is his erection. 

His toes curl, and he bites his lip. Yeah, definitely needed that. His hand curls more properly around his cock over his jeans and he moans weakly. 

Stupid Eijirou. Stupid stupid. When did that ‘Pretty’ name start anyways? Katsuki hates that it makes him feel like mush. 

“ Fucker,”  Katsuki whispers to the empty air, slipping his hand fully past his underwear and shuddering at his own touch. 

He leans back into the couch and squeezes his eyes shut as he strokes up. It feels good. Not as good as it could feel, but pretty good. 

A collar huh? Why the fuck doesn’t he hate that exactly? Katsuki bites his bottom lip, letting out a strained noise. It’s been a while since he jerked himself off. He really shouldn’t be surprised anymore when he finds he doesn’t hate things. 

What’ll it feel like? Possessive probably. Like having Eijirou’s hand around his throat all the time. Will Eijirou tug on it? Is he gonna have a fucking leash and everything? 

His phone pings. 

His grip on his cock tightens as he opens the message. It throbs in his hand. 

It’s big. It has small silver spikes coming out of it, and a hook for a leash. It’s snakeskin, it looks like. Silver blue snakeskin. 

It’s fucking gorgeous. 

It’s fucking gorgeous. 

Katsuki doesn’t know how to stop looking at it. He never would have picked it out, and certainly never the color, but he can’t deny it’ll look good on him. It would look good on anyone. 

For a second he pauses. For a second he wonders if Eijirou would use this with someone else but then remembers that he never saw it in his giant dresser, and that… that right now, Eijirou only wants him. 

This stupid fucking collar? Is his, and his only. 

It somehow makes him more restless. He strokes over himself faster, kicks his jeans down his legs for more room, squirms and fucks up into his hand but it doesn’t really help. 

He can picture Eijirou using that loop to pull him around. He’s.. probably gonna do that a lot…

Damn it. Damn it. It feels good but something is fucking off. Katsuki opens his eyes and glares up at his ceiling as his hand slows to a stop. 

Maybe he needs to fuck downward? Like with a pillow maybe? 

He gets up and stumbles into the bedroom. He can’t stop thinking about that fucking collar. Can’t stop thinking about how cocky and proud Eijirou would look, index finger around the loop, pulling Katsuki close and biting against his lips..

Fuckin ugh. 

Seriously. Katsuki has never been into this type of shit, never even thought about it, but Eijirou texted him what, 20 minutes ago, and now he feels like he might burn up from how hot he is? 

Whatever. He plops down on his bed, fully kicking off his pants and pulling the bottom of his shirt up to bite down on it and hold it out of the way. He grabs his cock harder, lifts his hips, and starts fucking down. 

And it’s a little better. His free hand is bunched in the sheets and he’s pressing his forehead into the mattress, and it feels good to move. But.. 

But there’s something missing. 

Maybe… 

He knows it’s probably stupid, but he’s so fucking needy he doesn’t care. He reaches over and pulls the lube out of his night stand. 

Reaching behind himself and running a finger over his hole is strange. Forcing it inside is worse. 

Damn it! He furrows his brow further, turns so his head is to the side like it had been that night. What did Eijirou do to get him to relax? 

Eh. Probably nothing. Katsuki was pretty out of it just from being in those damn thigh cuffs. 

He moves his free hand down between his legs. Strokes over himself. It feels nice so he forces the finger inside, though with the angle it can only go so far. 

He moves it in and out. It’s just strange. He wants it to fucking help. 

The second finger burns as soon as he attempts it. He retreats, and his thighs jump, but then his brain pulls up Eijirou. He can.. make this into a situation if he tries, right? 

Fuck this is embarrassing. 

Let’s say.. he’s told to do this. What if Eijirou had told him to finger himself over the phone? Maybe.. maybe he’s right there, behind him, watching. Maybe Katsuki has the collar around his neck and Eijirou has the leash in his hand, like a pet. 

“ Come on, Pretty.” 

Katsuki makes a pathetic noise, even at the thought of it. He feels a little heavy with arousal now, somehow. He shoves the finger in and hisses around his shirt. 

“ Ah ah ,” imaginary Eijirou tsks. “ All the way.” 

Imaginary him reaches for his cock. He already is in real life but he can do what he fucking wants right now. 

Fuck. That’s right. Eijirou has a flogger. 

And yeah, imaginary Eijirou lightly lands the ends of it on his lower back as a warning. 

“You’re not allowed to cum.” 

“ I-I won’t,” imaginary him gasps. 

His finger is all the way in now, working in and out. It does feel better. He feels good. 

“ You won’t...” 

“S-sir,” he gasps quickly. “ I won’t sir.” 

Eijirou tugs on the leash and Katsuki can imagine the clink of metal so fucking clearly…

“Four fingers. You put four fingers in, and if you cum before you do, you don’t get my cock at all. Understand?” 

Imaginary Katsuki nods. “ Y-yes sir.” 

Katsuki fists over his cock faster, and faster, trying to crook his fingers as harshly as he can. He can feel heat peaking in his gut already, his breath harsh and quick, spit leaking into the fabric of his shirt. 

“ That’s my good boy.” 

And Katsuki cums all over his sheets. 

He blanks out as he does. It’s just his imagination but damn it’s powerful. He doesn’t get it. 

He pants as he comes down from it. Glances over at his phone next to his head. You know what? Fuck Eijirou for this. Katsuki can tease too. 

He grabs it. 

He’s never taken nudes before. But he isn’t gonna half ass this. He puts a timer on his phone, turns it side ways, and leans it against his lamp so it gets his torso and thighs. 

He arches his back obscenely, lifting his ass in the air, and stuffs both lubed fingers back into himself. He turns his face towards the camera, shirt still between his teeth, raises his upper lip in a snarl so Eijirou can see. He knows he’s still hard but he won’t be for much longer so he needs to make this one picture count. 

He tries to look into the lense, but he wimps out at the last second and squeezes them shut as soon as the timer reaches 1. 

Katsuki drops his shirt from his mouth and tries to take his fingers out as gently as he can before wiping them on the sheets. 

He doesn’t look at the photo before he sends it. He’s honestly pretty fucking sure if he looks at himself like that he might smash his damn phone. 

He sends it. Then quickly adds another text under it. 

Your fucking fault. 

He shuts it off after. He knows Eijirou won’t look for a while, and waiting for a response is just gonna drive him crazy. He sits up and grimaces at the mess on both of his hands. 

He needs a shower anyways. That’s a good distraction. 

When he gets into the shower, though, as the water slides down his back, he realizes that he sort of feels like shit. 

He isnt sure why. He feels empty and even though the water is hot he still feels a little cold. He feels oddly sad and hopeless and it’s so random and unlike him that it almost starts making him angry. 

Oh. Maybe its that ‘sub-drop’ thing? Eijirou told him about it last time, it’s like.. If you don't come back into your body in a good way you start feeling especially awful. He said that’s why aftercare is so important. But Katsuki didn’t go into subspace just now… he wasnt floaty or anything, Eijirou wasn't even there. 

Maybe he did a little bit without noticing it. Cause he would honestly do anything to get Eijirou to hug him right now, and that isn't normal, even for being sad. 

It’s not too bad though. He wants a hug but it’s not as bad as Eijirou made it sound. He washes his hair and then gets out to dry off. 

Katsuki feels better by the time he plops down in bed. 11pm, his clock says. Jesus. It’s late but Eijirou wont even see-

Shitty Hair:

Jesus.

Shitty Hair: 

Suddenly I want to quit just so I can leave and come find you. 

Shitty Hair:

Be at my place at 3 tomorrow. I’ll take full responsibility. 

Katsuki’s face burns and he smiles but pretends he doesn’t. His body curls in on itself in some weird mix of joy and excitement and like magic all of the shitty feelings evaporate. The messages were all sent only a few minutes ago, he must have gotten a little break. 

Heh. Damn right. 

Yes sir ;) 

It’s unlike him really, but Katsuki sends it anyways. Having the upper hand is just too fucking good. 

His phone blings just as he’s about to put it down. Holy shit.

Shitty Hair:

Jesus Katsuki. What’s gotten into you

Shitty Hair: 

Who’s being unfair now? :(((((

Katsuki barks out a giddy laugh. Damn it. Why is this so much fun? 

See you tomorrow, fucker. 

Katsuki puts his phone down before anything else can happen. He’s tired. His eyes are heavy and he knows if he pushes it he’s gonna start overthinking and not be able to sleep at all. He’s good right now. He’s seeing Eijirou again tomorrow and..

And Eijirou is definitely not gonna hold back on him. Katsuki might even come back with bruises…

Jesus fuck. Lord help him.

Chapter Text

Katsuki feels awfully confident all day. 

He cooks a whole ass breakfast. Usually the few days he has off he sleeps in, and reads, and takes naps. He doesn’t make eggs and rice and meat at 10 in the morning. 

But he can’t seem to get over himself. He does peak at the photo he sent, and he doesn’t hate it at all. He looks good. His ass looks awesome and his waist is thin and his muscles are stretched out. 

He can’t wait for later. He has honestly no clue what he signed up for, but after last night, he’s beyond fucking ready for it. He’s gonna blow Eijirou’s mind just as hard as he’s been blowing Katsuki’s. 

He takes a nice long jog just for the hell of it. Showers again afterwards. Cleans super well. Uses his good smelling lotion. He collapses on his couch and stretches out like a well pampered cat. 

And then his mom calls. 

Katsuki’s good mood drops just as quickly as it came. His throat knots and his walls shoot up. You’ve got to be fucking kidding. 

“Katsuki,” his mother snaps immediately. She sounds just as short and shitty as always. 

“Hag.” 

“Do not address me like that, you ungrateful piece of shit,” she spits. Katsuki’s gut drops. “Why the fuck haven’t you called, hah?” 

“I don’t fucking owe you that,” Katsuki grumbles. “You don’t need to have a hand in my fucking life.” 

“ Good children call their fucking mothers-MASARU LEAVE.” 

Damn it. His father was probably trying to help and now he’s gone. Damn it. 

Fuck his throat is clogged up. He hates this. 

“You callin me a bad child? Who’s fucking fault would that be?” He tries to breathe. His hands are shaking. “I’m fucking 26, hag. Get a life so I can live mine.” 

“It’s my job to help you live your life, prick.” No it’s fucking not..

Katsuki folds in on himself, one hand gripping hard to the edges of his phone and the other curled into a tight fist. He hates the amount of rage and anxiety these fucking calls give him. 

“Are you still doing firefighting?”

“Fuck off.” 

His mother sighs and he braces himself. “Really Katsuki. That job is unfulfilling. You should be doing something that gives you a good paycheck and let’s you start a family.” 

“ Hag- “

“Don’t try it. You know I’m just looking out for you. Your father and I just want you to be happy and healthy.” 

Katsuki feels nauseous. “Then fucking leave me alone. I am happy.” 

His mother sighs again. “Well I guess I can’t do anything to help you then.”

He feels goddamn nauseous. 

“What you do with your life is completely up to you, Katsuki.”  

Fuck. 

“Don’t forget that, prick,” she sighs. Like she’s disappointed. She is. 

Katsuki forces his trembling hands to press the end button before she can say anything else. He stares blankly at the floor and at his slippers. 

All of the other conversations like that start pinging around in his head. 

“No one controls your life but you.” 

“You’re the one who has power over your life.” 

“Don’t blame anyone else for hardships but yourself.” 

FUCK. Damn it. Is he ruining his own life? He’s been doing the same shit since high school.. he- 

Ugh. His head is so loud. He wants to shut it off. He wants to..

Eijirou. 

He manically stands and looks at his kitchen clock. 2:30. He’d be early but he doesn't care. Eijirou can turn his brain off. 

Eijirou knows how to turn his brain off .

He’s glad he showered earlier. He grabs his keys and barely even remembers to put on proper shoes before darting out of his apartment. 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. 

Katsuki feels fucking crazy speed walking to Eijirou’s apartment. He knows where it is without a GPS by now and it feels like he’s on autopilot the whole time. 

He doesn't want to think, or exist. He wants to be consumed, he wants to be taken apart. He wants to be weightless. He wants to be used. 

Katsuki buzzes. 

“Kirishima residence!” 

“It’s me,” Katsuki grits out. 

“Oh! You’re early! Uh, come on up then.”

The door beeps and Katsuki opens it. He takes the stairs. Energy is buzzing in his fingertips and even still all he can think of is how he felt getting fucked from behind with his arms tied uselessly against his thighs. 

And the collar. 

He wants to be collared. 

Yeah he’s avoiding. He doesn’t care. Throwing himself into this is better than wallowing in a book and overthinking all his life choices. 

He knocks. Nothing. He knocks again. And again. 

Eijirou opens the door laughing. He’s wearing a kimono again, it’s deep blue and has yellow and red flowers on it. 

“I was coming man! Why’re you in a rush-“

“Where is it,” Katsuki breathes, forcing his way through the door and into Eijirou’s space. 

The laughter stops and big eyes blink at him. “Where’s what-“

“The collar.” 

Eijirou looks at Katsuki like he’s a different person. He sort of feels like one. He isn’t as timid as usual. 

“ Your collar?” Eijirou rolls his shoulders back and smirks down at him. It normally makes Katsuki’s knees weak but he.. 

“ My collar. Where the fuck is it.” 

“You’ll get it when-“

Katsuki snaps, grabbing both sides of Eijirou’s stupid kimono and tugging him, face wrinkled in frustration and anger. Eijirou’s eyes widen. 

“Quit fucking around. Give it to me now. Give it to me and fuck me.”  

Katsuki’s voice is rough like jagged rocks, his heart is pounding, he feels like he’s on the edge of crying and screaming and-

“H-hey-“

A hand comes up and tries to cup his jaw but Katsuki smacks it away. He’s trembling. 

“ Eijirou-“

His voice cuts off, so in a desperate attempt for something he tugs Eijirou’s Kimono and pulls him down at the same time as he surges up and crashes their lips together hard enough to hurt. 

Eijirou whimpers. It’s bruising. It hurts. It makes Katsuki’s head fuzzy and Eijirou is hesitant but kisses him back all the same. 

He pulls away and Eijirou is panting, face red and flushed. 

Eijirou blinks slowly, like his brain is lagging. Katsuki leans up and wills himself to breathe against Eijirou’s lips. He’s gonna pull out all the fucking stops. 

“Come on, sir,” he purrs. He grabs Eijirou’s hand and wraps it around his throat. “Give me all you fucking got.” 

Eijirou’s breath hitches.

“You wimping out on me?” Katsuki pants, works a smirk onto his face and tilts his head like Eijirou does to him. Works his free hand through thick red hair and tugs. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t think you can handle it-“

Eijirou suddenly tightens his grip around his neck and is pushing him until his back collides with the wall. His eyes are dark but the red in them glows. 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

Katsuki’s heart leaps along with his dick. Yes. Fuck yes. He can’t help but smirk, meeting those red eyes head on even though he’s struggling to breathe. 

“ Make me.” 

Eijirou shoves him against the wall harder and his free hand comes up and covers his mouth along with the tight grip on his neck. Katsuki moans. Head swimming, and basks in that familiar dark look on Eijirou’s face. Bullshit he doesn’t have power. Katsuki did that to him. 

His clenched fists at his side go limp, and he finally relaxes for the first time since his mother called, looking into those damn eyes like he needs them to exist. He’s still smiling. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you huh?” 

Eijirou’s voice is gorgeous. Katsuki can’t speak. 

“You think you can barge in here all cocky and demand shit from me? Just because you sent me a little picture?” 

Katsuki’s eyes flutter. Fuck yes. This is what he wanted. This is-

“ Do you?!” Eijirou’s grip tightens more, and Katsuki’s eyes roll into his head, unable to take a breath at all, his neck feels like it’s gonna bruise….

He shakes his head desperately. 

His knees buckle, but nothing happens. He’s pinned upright to the wall by nothing but his throat. 

“You think I’m gonna collar you now? Huh? After being such a shitty little brat?”

Brief panic floods through him and Eijirou let’s up enough for him to breathe through his nose desperately. No, no no he needs it. He wants the collar-

He looks at Eijirou desperately. 

And there’s a flicker of recognition on Eijirou’s face but he morphs it back in no time. “Fine. Apologize and I’ll collar you.” 

He releases Katsuki’s mouth and instantly he gasps. He doesn’t know why, usually he doesn’t want to obey so quickly, but the threat of not getting to see the collar is too overwhelming right now. 

“S-sorry! I’m sorry,” Katsuki breathes, voice thick and strained. 

“You’re sorry what.” 

Katsuki’s eyes flutter, “sir, I-I’m sorry sir.” 

Eijirou’s face softens just a little and he leans in and kisses him. It’s light. Just a soft, barely there press of lips. Katsuki can’t even lean into it because he’s being choked so hard his head is throbbing. 

“Good boy,” Eijirou whispers. 

Katsuki moans weakly, his head is already foggy, and it’s amazing. 

The hand on Katsuki’s throat travels around and tugs at the back of his head. The other wraps around Katsuki’s waist and pulls him close and up against Eijirou’s body. He breathes hotly against Katsuki’s lips. 

“Go get on your knees next to the bed. Hands behind your back. Do you understand?” 

A part of Katsuki wants to rebel but he.. he nods anyways. “Yes si-sir.” 

Eijirou breaks away, forces Katsuki to turn towards the hallway, and then shoves him. 

Katsuki’s vision is a little blurry, and he just barely manages not to completely fall on his face. He stumbles forward, leaning heavily against the hallway wall as soon as he can. Eijirou is right behind him, watching, but he doesn’t help. 

He’s so hard that it’s hard to walk. His body feels weak. His head is light. But he forces himself to move anyway. The sooner he does what he’s told the faster he can get what he wants. 

He stumbles into the bedroom like a pathetic idiot. He falls to the ground and he can feel Eijirou looming behind him. Intimidating. Waiting. 

Katsuki lifts himself, spreads his legs a bit and sits up on his knees. Lowers his head and holds his hands together behind his back. 

A huge hand lands posessively on the top of his head. Just resting. 

“Don’t move a fucking muscle.” 

Katsuki almost nods, but stops himself. 

“I’m getting shit from the closet. If you move, you don’t get to cum tonight. Got it?”

Katsuki’s eyes are wide staring at the carpet. Holy shit. Yeah, he was definitely holding back before tonight. That’s a harsh rule. Holy fuck. 

“Y-yes sir.” 

The hand leaves. He listens to the soft thud of Eijirou’s bare feet padding off into the closet. Listens to drawers opening and clinking sounds. 

Fuck he’s so hard. He wants to get his pants off and touch himself. It hurts. He squeezes his hands together. 

He doesn’t know why, but he suddenly feels choked up. He’s dizzy and burning up but he’s sitting on his knees, waiting like a bitch and he’s completely fine with it. 

“What you do with your life-“

“Sit up,” Eijirou’s sharp tone snaps him out of his head and he does so immediately. Straightens his back and holds his breath. 

And then there it is. 

Eijirou grabs his jaw and then slowly lowers the collar in front of his face. It’s gorgeous. It looks solid and safe and even more elegant in person. 

“Do you know what this means, Katsuki?” 

Katsuki shakes his head. He can’t take his eyes off it. 

“It means that you’re mine. ” 

Katsuki’s heart thuds once, so loud it feels like a single beat of a drum. He opens his mouth to pant, he feels too breathless. Eijirou’s hand is so big holding his jaw he could break it without any problem. 

“Got that, Pretty?” 

Katsuki nods. “Yes,” he exhales. 

“What does it mean? Say it for me.” 

Katsuki closes his eyes and sways in place. Fuck. Fuck. 

“I’m yours.” 

“That's right,” Eijirou says firmly.

And then he's lowering it, and wrapping it around Katsuki's neck. His vision swims just a bit at the arousal that shoots through him. The humiliation that comes from being collared like some sort of dog.

Its loose, he finds. It drapes down and hangs off him instead of being tight like Katsuki thought initially. He's still panting, but it's different. He thought it'd be tight. He shifts on his knees. 

Theres a tug at the front, and a click, and he opens his eyes and looks down just in time to see Eijirou attach a leash. 

“Color.” 

“G-green,” he exhales immediately. He likes it. 

“Look at me,” Eijirou orders. 

Katsuki blinks up at him. His eyes sting in the air but he isn't sure if they're wet or just dry. Eijirou's face is set in those gorgeous hard lines, pupils blown and cheeks pink. 

“How do you feel.”

Katsuki blinks drunkenly. He feels heavy. The collar is grounding. He likes how Eijirou is holding onto the leash. 

“G-good,” is what he manages to come up with. Eijirou blinks at him. 

“Stand up.” 

Katsuki scrambles to do so, now at eye level with Eijirou but the balance is off. He feels small. Even still. 

Eijirou tilts his nose up, “how does the collar feel.” 

Katsuki swallows thickly. “H-heavy. I thought it would be tighter.” 

Eijirou almost smirks. Katuski notices the light pull of lips before he forces it back down. His brows draw together and Katsuki’s heart starts to race. 

“It’s loose so I can do this.” 

Eijirou suddenly wraps his free hand firmly around his throat again, and squeezes, and lifts.

Katsuki chokes, eyes going wide as his entire body is lifted up to his tip toes. Eijirou looks indifferent. Both his hands are sweating, holding onto Eijirou’s forearm for dear life. Oh my god. 

“This is what you like, right, brat?” 

Katsuki’s eyes droop in arousal and he can’t take a breath to save his life. All the blood in his body is rushing to his head. 

Eijirou let’s him go and he almost falls to the floor again, but instead reaches and grabs onto Eijirou’s kimono for balance.

Smack. 

He’s hit across the face. He does fall to the floor then. He’s breathing as if he just ran a marathon, eyes lidded, whole body thrumming, his cheek throbbing in pain where Eijirou hit him. 

“ Don’t fucking touch me.”

Eijirou tugs at the leash. It pulls his head up towards him and the collar flies up to force his chin up. Eijirou crouches down, patronizingly tilting his head. The hand not holding the chain leash puts one finger under Katsuki’s chin. 

“At least, I’m assuming you like it. You practically forced it earlier, didn’t you?” Eijirou purrs. 

Katsuki gulps. He’s foggy. Even holding himself up with his arms is hard. 

“ Huh?” Eijirou tugs the leash and Katsuki jumps. 

“Y-yes sir!” 

Eijirou sighs, drags his eyes down Katsuki’s body. “You’re really pathetic tonight aren’t you?” 

Katsuki gasps as Eijirou maneuvers the handle of the leash to hang on his wrist, and grabs his throat again with the same hand. He almost collapses all together when the other hand forces itself into the back of his jeans and runs a finger along the crack of his ass. 

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to touch you here after that fucking picture,” Eijirou growls. His finger is dry, and he pushes but not all the way in.

Katsuki wheezes. He can’t get air. The hand around his throat is so tight. 

“Mm…” Eijirou suddenly takes his hand back out. 

The hand releases his throat and Eijirou stands, the leash straightening out with him and pulling Katsuki’s collar up again. His eyes are so heavy. His heart is racing, he’s straining against the zipper of his jeans. 

“Stand up.” 

Stand up? Katsuki tries to fight through the drunken feeling in his mind. He’s supposed to stand up? By himself? He can barely hold himself up right now, he… he wants to just bend over and lift his hips in the air and-

Eijirou grabs both his wrists and lifts him up like he weighs nothing. Holds them way up in the air, brings him close so they’re face to face, and Katsuki whines again. Fucking fuck. Eijirou looks so angry, his eyes are narrowed and a deep maroon, his upper lip curled. 

“ Can’t listen to a damn thing I say, can you slut ,” he spits, so aggressively that Katsuki closes his eyes and flinches his head away. 

“Can’t even stand on your own.” 

Katsuki huffs, he wants to throw his head back and lean forward at the same time. His hands feel tingly. Fuck he needs to speak.. he..

“I-I can-“

Eijirou tugs his arms up higher, holding them high above his head and even though his eyes are already closed they flutter. “Really.” 

Katsuki gulps. His knees feel like jello. Who the fuck is he kidding. 

“No,” he whispers, lowering his head. He holds back the ‘sir’ just because. 

Eijirou barks a laugh. Barks. Katsuki flinches again. 

“Fuck, you’re really asking to be punished tonight aren’t you?” 

Katsuki wants to shiver. He wants to but he’s too stretched out. All his clothes are still on his body and it’s irritating, his skin is horribly sensitive for some reason.. 

Eijirou drops him. He falls back to his knees so hard they ring with pain but he’s so fucking dizzy it’s hard to care. 

“Katsuki.” 

Katsuki grunts. He rolls his head to the side, but too quickly his jaw is being grabbed and his face is forced to tilt up. He forces himself to open his eyes and Eijirou’s lips are pinched together, his red eyes darting all over Katsuki’s face. 

“Stay with me, okay,” Eijirou says firmly, shaking his face a little. 

Katsuki frowns. Pouts. 

Eijirou lifts an eyebrow. “Stay. I haven’t even gotten started with you, got it?” 

“I don’t want-“

Eijirou cuts off his words by squeezing his cheeks with his big hand. It hurts. 

“Too bad. Give me your hands.” 

Katsuki exhales heavily, for some reason unable to look away from Eijirou’s glowing eyes even as he sticks out his hands. 

Eijirou reaches around Katsuki, keeping his head still so he can’t look as he grabs something else that clinks. Distantly he wonders why Eijirou never lets him look. He wants to be able to… oh. Hm. Maybe not being able to prepare for shit is part of the point. 

It’s just handcuffs, though. One of the metal black ones. It’s always so fucking crazy and so hot to see how quickly Eijirou snaps them around his wrists. One handed. 

“Color,” Eijirou grunts. He always asks when he puts some sort of cuff on and Katsuki somehow finds it just as annoying as he does comforting. 

“Green.” 

“Green….” 

Katsuki freezes. He knows what he’s supposed to say but..he could not say it. He could..

“Alright.” 

It’s passive. Light. Airy. It sets Katsuki’s skin on edge more than anything ever has in his fucking life. 

After that, everything happens in a quick blur. It’s hard to focus on anything. His shirt is pulled over his head. There’s another chain hooking to the middle of his handcuffs and then that chain is being hooked to.. to a hook on the ceiling. His pants are torn down his legs along with his boxers. 

Eijirou is stripping. He has a hand around Katsuki’s neck as he does. He pulls his own boxers off and before Katsuki can do more than blink, they’re being shoved down over his head, and wrapped around to slip between his open mouth and gag him. 

He wretches. It tastes like sweat and old fabric. Eijirou just smirks, still holding him by his throat. 

“If you don’t have anything nice to say, you don’t say anything at all.” 

Katsuki exhales heavily. His arms are stretched so high. He almost has to stand on his toes. Almost. Eijirou steps around behind him and Katsuki can feel the power radiating from him.

Fuck. Fuck. Gagged with Eijirou’s boxers, hanging from the ceiling completely nude. Is this enough? Is-

No, it’s not. 

Eijirou slides a tight ring down to the base of Katsuki’s cock right as he forces a dry finger into him. 

Katsuki almost screams. Really. It’s so much. His arms hurt, the metal hurts his wrists where they hold up almost all his body weight, and a finger going in dry… 

“Use the safeword.” 

Katsuki chokes, eyes wide staring at the wall ahead of him. It has a clock on it. Use the safeword? 

The finger goes deeper and he shouts in pain again. He doesn’t want to use it to get out.. he’s fine but he trusts Eijirou he-

Snap three times if you can’t speak right? 

“ Use it-“

Katsuki forces himself to lift just enough to turn one of his wrists and snap. One two three. 

And Eijirou sighs like Katsuki finally let him breathe, and takes his finger out and pulls the boxers out of Katsuki’s mouth to hang around his neck. Both of them pant and Eijirou puts both hands on his hips. 

“Good.” 

“G-good?” Katsuki exhales. He feels shaky. He’s really hard, the cock ring feels goddamn awful. That’s what it is right? A cock ring? He’s seen them before..

“Remember that, Pretty. Okay?” 

Katsuki nods. He remembers. He’s okay. 

Eijirou kisses his shoulder, “I’m trusting you, Katsuki. With your body. Okay?” 

“I-I know,” Katsuki whispers. He knows. Eijirou does trust him right? He may be new at this shit but he isn’t that fucking dumb.. 

Eijirou’s kisses turn a little harsher. “How does the ring feel?” 

“Tight,” he breathes. He looks down. His cock is pink and it looks tight. 

“Good.” 

“D-does it stop me from cumming,” he spits before he can help it. 

Eijirou drags one of his hands up his back, threads fingers into his hair and tugs his head back so hard he shouts again, eyes squeezing shut as the pain bolts down his back. 

“What do you think ,” Eijirou purrs, right against his ear. 

Katsuki shivers. Holy.. “f-fuck.”

Eijirou hums, and then he’s gone. Katsuki tries to turn and see but he doesn’t find him. Fuck, did he disappear? 

Ugh. He was just crouching down. Katsuki watches him lift up a bottle of lube, pour it over three fingers with the smile of a 5 year old lying to his parents. 

And yeah, Katsuki somewhat expects it but when Eijirou slides a finger up his ass he still jumps. A hand comes and wraps around his chest to hold him. The hand with the leash. 

It’s awful being strung up. He feels like a piece of meat. He sways in the air if Eijirou isn’t holding him tight enough, physically unable to stay still even if he tried. He has no footing, no way to balance. 

The finger doesn’t burn as much now that it’s lubed but it’s still uncomfortable. Katsuki hangs his head and squeezes his eyes shut. He can’t touch himself. It would help so much, but there’s no way even for him to struggle in this position. He’s panting and trying to relax but nothing helps.. 

“Open up,” Eijirou orders, dark against the skin of his shoulder, wiggling his finger. 

“I c-ant,” Katsuki gasps. 

Eijirou pinches one of his nipples and pulls it, and Katsuki’s thighs shake as a weak pained moan leaves his mouth. 

“If you don’t address me properly one more time,” Eijirou growls. Katsuki gulps. Jesus fuck.. he almost forgot.. he..

“ Good sluts can take more than one fucking finger you know.” 

Katsuki’s face flames. His heart is pounding and he feels restless and weak and pathetic and he can’t… he can’t.. 

“Fuck off,” he breathes. Eijirou freezes. 

The air turns cold. Katsuki feels his heart pound faster. He wants to get in trouble. That should’ve done it right? 

The finger pulls out and Eijirou steps away from him. Katsuki sways in the air, his shoulders are starting to hurt. He’s holding his breath in anticipation. Is he gonna be hit? Taken down? What’s-

Eijirou suddenly steps around to stand in front of him. 

His bangs are covering his eyes, chin tilted down. He’s radiating this awful calm anger that makes Katsuki’s cock throb a bit, and the cuffs clink up above him where he flexes his arms. He looks down. 

He’s holding a flogger. 

Katsuki holds his breath. Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god. 

“A-are you gonna punish me,” Katsuki whispers, breathless. He can’t look up from the flogger. Eijirou’s hand is tight around the handle.

Eijirou doesnt say a damn thing. 

Katsuki swallows thickly. Fuck. His eyes are still shadowed when he looks back up. That’s a yes. 

“Will it hurt,” Katsuki says even quieter. 

And then Eijirou is drawing back, and swinging the leather strands hard across his abs. 

Pain radiates up and down his body, and Katsuki lurches, a shout breaking the silence of the room, and immediately he’s panting. He’s staring at Eijirou’s torso with wide eyes. Holy shit. It feels like a million little whips.. it feels like-

“You tell me,” Eijirou hits him again, in the same place. 

Katsuki shouts again, and again, as Eijirou hits him over and over. He throws his head back on the fourth hit, his whole body screaming in pain somehow, sensitive and overwhelmed. His eyes are wide, he can see his hands above him, holding onto the metal chains hooking him to the ceiling. 

It hurts worse every time. 5, 6, 7. 

“Does it fucking hurt? Hm ?” Eijirou’s dark voice snaps. 

Katsuki whimpers, eyes quickly filling with tears with the next two hits. The skin of his abs burn with pain. It hurts the muscles too, it feels like it might bruise. 

It feels like every inch of him is buzzing. 

“Y-yes- AHHG-“

He cuts off into a shout as Eijirou hits harder. It hurts more , Katsuki’s body swings backward and he starts to tremble, squeezing his eyes shut as tears start to fall. His lip trembles. Does he like this? Is this-

“Yes who.” 

Another hit. Just as hard. Katsuki sobs. 

“Sir,” he sobs. He gives up. “Yes sir.” 

“Stupid fucking brat.” 

Then Eijirou hits him again. And Katsuki barely registers it. His knees give out, his head gives out, falling backwards, tears streaming down the sides of his face into his hair. His shoulders hurt holding his weight but it’s distant. 

The next hit.. feels sort of good. 

And he moans. 

It does hurt. A lot. Every smack of burning leather shoots pain up and down his body. Everything is sensitive. But he’s hard, and he can feel himself leaking as he starts to float. 

“You shitty slut-“ 

“I-I’m sorry!” Katsuki cries, jumping with the next snap.  “S-sir, sir I’m sorry I’m-“

“For what ,” Eijirou snaps. 

“For-for for,” Katsuki feels himself twitch and leak, feels wetness slide down his cock. “For being disobedient on p-purpose!”

He wants it to stop. It hurts. He wants to be good now. He’ll be good, he-

Eijirou grabs and tugs on his leash, tugging the collar hard enough to swing him forward. His stomach collides with the end of the flogger and when it touches it hurts, and Katsuki shouts, voice cracking. He’s kept there, the collar pulling his neck. 

“Fucking look at me.” 

Katsuki pants, huffing with every breath. Look. 

He raises his head and he sniffles, he can’t seem to stop crying. He tries to blink away each tear but they just refill. Eijirou’s eyes are glowing red again, face pink, and he’s so pretty. He doesn’t look as angry now. 

“You poor thing,” Eijirou says, but he doesn’t look sad at all. “Did it hurt that much?” 

Katsuki chokes, he wants to hang his head in shame, he feels pathetic. 

“S-sir I-“

Eijirou drops the flogger. Katsuki can hear it hit the floor, and the now free hand comes up and cups Katsuki’s wet face. Eijirou looks all over again, wipes each stream that falls with his thumb. Keeps him held tight and close with the collar. 

“I told you you would be punished, Pretty. You asked for it.” 

Katsuki sniffles, his whole body trembling. He’s so hard. He wants to cum. He wants body contact. 

“I-I know,” he gasps. Eijirou pinches his lips together, eyes still darting all over Katsuki’s face. 

“God. You really are something when you cry.” 

Katsuki tries to turn his head but Eijirou switches to hold his jaw and keep him still. His face feels hot, his heart and gut burn in deep humiliation. 

“Listen to me. Are you listening?” 

Katsuki takes a choppy breath, “y-yes, yes sir.” 

Eijirou leans in. Breathes against his lips and it’s so wonderful just to be close that for whatever reason Katsuki starts crying a little more. Fatter tears. 

“Give in,” Eijirou says, voice like dark chocolate. “Let go.” 

Katsuki sobs. He wants to. He wants to. 

“Cause I want to see you cry a little more.” 

Eijirou let’s him go, and he swings backward, it strains his shoulders but he can’t do anything but let it happen. Eijirou dips back down and picks up the flogger again. Katuski squeezes his eyes shut, tenses his stomach and squeezes his fists. 

But it doesn’t happen. 

Instead, it’s behind. 

He doesn’t know why he shouts as loudly as he does. It’s not like his ass has been hit before. Maybe every inch of him is this sensitive now. 

It stings. It stings more and more the next few times. He tries to climb up for some reason, tugging upwards, legs scrambling and back arching to get away. 

“E-Eijirou-“ Katsuki wheezes between hits, his heart pounding and pounding so hard he thinks it might kill him. “ AH-“  

Snap, snap of the leather. It does sound good. But fuck it burns. 

“HAH-“

And then the boxers are being stuffed back into his gaping mouth and Katsuki moans, head falling forward. He gags at the awful taste but it’s okay. He bites down. The width of it fits perfectly in his mouth so nothing falls out.  

“You’re so fucking loud,” Eijirou tsks behind him. 

Katsuki’s head swims with the next hit. His ass tenses at the pain but it causes arousal to shoot up his back, he’s not sure if it’s the pain or the way his voice comes out muffled around fabric. 

Come on. Come on. He wants to float. 

Another hit, and another, and he feels foggy and everything hurts but he can’t seem to give in. At least, not until the collar is pulled back against his throat by a tug of the leash behind him. 

“N-NNGH,” Katsuki moans. His ass hurts. 

“Shut up.” 

And then he breathes out, and gives up. 

He lets his body go limp. He feels far away. It does hurt, the next few hits, but he doesn’t move much for them. He feels heavy. His eye lashes are wet with tears, he’s pretty sure the strip of fabric around his cheeks is getting wet from them too. 

The intensity lessens. He notices that each time the leather cracks and pain lances through him the tip of his cock throbs. 

He doesn’t quite know where he goes. It’s not the same as last time. He isn’t himself in any way. It’s like he blacks out, almost. Just a body for Eijirou to use. 

The next thing he registers is feeling things wiggling inside him. Fingers. How many? 

Eijirou shushes him. His mouth is pressed against Katsuki’s shoulder, other hand wrapped around him, just under his pecs, keeping him held up. It makes his arms feel better. 

His head is limp. He can’t manage to lift it. He whimpers and moans as Eijirou thrusts fingers into him and spreads them to stretch him out. The skin of his ass and abs feel raw. 

“M-mm mph-“

He tries to ask. How many? When did..

“Shut up,” Eijirou says, but it’s not super angry. Just firm. 

Fuck he wants to cum. He feels too hard. Is that even possible? He feels like he’s gonna explode. He can’t even ask for it. 

“Just a little longer, Pretty.” 

Katsuki moans again. And again, louder, when Eijirou hits his prostate. When his fingers curl and involuntarily Katsuki’s cock jumps and the muscles of his thighs shake. His gut clenches. He feels good. 

He clenches down hard around Eijirou’s fingers, weakly squirming. Fuck his wrists hurt too, when he pulls on them. 

“No no baby, stay open,” Eijirou chuckles. “You back with me now?” 

He feels another tear stream down his face. He’d stopped crying at one point but he’s back at it, apparently. Fuck he wants to cum so bad. It hurts. His ass hurts and his cock is aching in the worst way. 

“ Nnh..” 

Eijirou curls his fingers into that spot again and Katsuki whimpers. It makes his cock hurt more, when he does that. 

“You need to keep it on. Sluts don’t cum before their owners,” Eijirou breathes darkly against the shell of his ear. 

Right. That’s… right… 

“Do they, Katsuki.” 

Katsuki shakes his head. “Mmm -nngh.” 

He means to say ‘no sir’ but it just comes out like a child saying no. He hates it. He feels melted and feverish but his face flames in humiliation. 

“So sad. So pathetic,” Eijirou coos, right into his ear. 

Katsuki feels a shiver travel down his spine, goosebumps rising all over his skin. Fuck. 

The fingers slip out. Katsuki furrows his brow at the emptiness. He hates when he can feel air and lube drips down his thigh… 

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” Eijirou growls. Katsuki’s eyes roll into his head. Fuck he’s so hard. He doesn’t feel like himself at all. 

“But I’m not being gentle,” Eijirou wraps a hand around his throat and Katsuki chokes. “You’ve been a disobedient brat all night. I’m just using you to get myself off. Is that clear?” 

Katsuki moans. 

“That means you don’t get to cum.” 

Katsuki moans louder. 

Eijirou chuckles. It makes him feel awful. Eijirou runs a hot hand under his left thigh, and lifts it, and Katsuki can feel the skin of his ass burn as it’s pulled. He squeezes his eyes shut, drops his head forward. The hand on his throat travels down and grabs firmly to his hip. 

“Fuck,” Eijirou whispers. 

He pushes in. Katsuki’s closed eyes somehow manage to cross. 

There’s no condom. Katsuki can physically feel the slick, hot skin of Eijirou’s cock if he tries hard enough. 

He whimpers. The stretch burns. Sometimes the hand on his hip brushes the spots Eijirou flogged and it hurts. It feels like a brand. 

Katsuki feels utterly useless, the whole time Eijirou slides into him. He can’t hold his leg up. His arms and wrists ache up above him. His cock hurts and throbs and leaks, and he wouldn’t be surprised if it fell off at some point. 

He can feel it deep in his gut. His head hangs useless, his whole body limp and leaning forward apart from the leg Eijirou is holding up. 

He feels too full, at some points. 

Eijirou starts thrusting, and he was right, he isnt planning on being gentle at all. His hips snap against Katsuki’s, and it makes his whole body tense in pain. It hits the red skin each time, it’s sore and it hurts. 

Katsuki feels good but he’s so fucking exhausted. He wants to melt down on the floor and kiss the idiot pounding into him and… 

Maybe he should have let Eijirou build up to this at his own pace. 

He doesn’t want out. He wants to cum and he wants to be held and kissed back to reality. 

“Katsuki,” Eijirou purrs into his ear, breathless. Katsuki’s heart pounds.

“How’s it feel huh? Your thighs are trembling.” 

“ Mmhh ,” Katsuki huffs. He can’t tell if they’re trembling or not. 

He feels stretched open and full. It’s overwhelming but he doesn’t hate it. He feels good. 

“This what you wanted?” Eijirou’s hips get faster, pushing small little high pitched moans from Katsuki’s throat.  “I haven’t fucked you since that first time, have I, Pretty?” 

Katsuki moans. His eyes are far too heavy to open but they flutter, his gut twists in arousal. Fuck he wants to cum. 

“Fuck,” Eijirou groans, gripping his hip and leg tighter, swinging Katsuki back against him with each thrust. 

“You’re so fucking hot, you know. So- ah- so tight… makes me feel like I’m losing my mind..”

“Mmmhh.. Nngghh,” Katsuki moans into the fabric. 

Eijirou chuckles breathlessly. “Really, you’re so unfair.” 

Eijirou shifts. Lifts his leg up higher, and maybe he drives up more because the next time he bottoms out he hits that spot inside Katsuki that makes him weak. 

His moan is almost a scream. His head tosses itself back and his arms hurt as it passes through, but fuck.. fuck fuck fuck… 

Eijirou doesn’t stop hitting it. Over and over, he pounds into the same place, and Katsuki can’t make sense of anything other than his arms feel restless, and everything in his body feels like it’s being electrocuted. If he wasn’t so exhausted he’d be thrashing all over, but as it is he can only twitch and whimper. 

“That’s it, that's my boy,” Eijirou growls. “You take my cock like you love it.” 

I do. 

“Is it that good, or do you just want to cum.”

Both! 

“MMMPH!”

Eijirou laughs, but it cuts off with a cracked moan, and his hips still and Katsuki’s heart skips a beat when he feels a twitch inside him. 

He whines low in his throat. Eijirou takes a shaky breath and picks up again, driving into him faster, with the clear purpose of driving himself to orgasm. 

Each drive up into his prostate is making him lose it again. Each hit makes it harder and harder to be in his body. At some point all he can register is the feeling of being fucked, the red skin on his ass and stomach, and the ache at the head of his cock. 

But then it all stills. Eijirou pulls out and his rim burns, it happened too fast and now he’s empty. 

And then he’s in front again. Katsuki blinks drunkenly,  Eijirou’s face is contorted in rage and-

“Are you fucking serious,” Eijirou spits, his hand is grabbing Katsuki’s jaw. “You stupid brat. After all this time, you still can’t listen to me?”

The hand leaves and another hits him across the face. Sharp pain radiates across his cheek. Katsuki’s head is spinning in panic, as Eijirou grabs his jaw again and forces his attention forward. His other is raised to strike again. 

Katsuki’s eyes are wide now. Not listening? Fuck he was too under, he didn’t hear what was said, but oh well. He looks at Eijirou and one eye flinches shut in preparation.

At first, all he sees is dark desire and anger in those red eyes, but then it’s gone. 

Eijirou’s face melts into panic. 

Pure, utter, panic. 

“Fuck..” Eijirou’s voice is quiet and raw and it cracks. “Black.. black, holy fuck I’m sorry fuck-“ 

Black? Katsuki feels a small pang of recognition in his chest, even through the thick haze still swirling through him. Safeword. Right? 

Did Eijirou just safeword? 

Chapter Text

Holy fuck, yeah, he did, one of Katsuki’s wrists falls free from a cuff and before Eijirou can even unclip the other one Katsuki’s knees are giving out and he’s falling to the floor. 

It’s embarrassing, distantly. That he can’t even stand upright without being hung. Eijirou catches him easily, wrapping a strong arm around Katsuki’s waist and pulling him to his chest. 

They end up on the floor anyways. Katsuki still feels far too heavy, he keeps trying to breathe and force himself back to reality. He can hear Eijirou’s panicked breathing.

The boxers are pulled up and off his head. He gasps for breath but before he can do much more two hands are cupping his face and kissing him. 

It’s horrible. Eijirou’s hands are trembling, his lips are trembling. Katsuki hates it, he hates that all he can fucking do is furrow his brow and try and press his lips a little harder into Eijirou’s. 

“E-Eijirou,” he grumbles weakly. 

Eijirou pulls back and Katsuki tries to keep himself up long enough to look but he ends up falling to the side and slumping against a broad shoulder. He tries to breathe, hopes that he can get Eijirou to breathe too, even as those big trembling hands dip down and grab Katsuki’s other hand and uncuff it. 

His breath is short. Katsuki can see his chest rising and falling so quickly, too quickly, and his head is spinning with frustration and panic and confusion. 

Damn it. Snap out of it Katsuki. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Eijirou wheezes. It’s small and weak and so unlike him Katsuki doesn’t even comprehend it. 

Katsuki winces and jolts as long fingers wrap around the cock ring and tug it off. It’s overwhelming, but then Eijirou is wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close. He buries his face in Katsuki’s neck too, and he hates it because he can feel tears and short huffs of breath against his skin.

Eijirou is clinging to him for dear life. Every inch of him feels like it’s trembling, and Katsuki has never felt more fucking helpless in his life, sitting here in Eijirou’s arms, stuck too deep in subspace to be able to do anything more than wiggle his toes.

He tries to blink faster. Tries to clench his fists and ground himself quicker cause he needs to be here. 

Damn it. Damn it. Come back. 

“Eijirou,” he whispers, weakly, trying to be gentle. It’s hard to speak. “Eij-“

“You looked scared of me,” Eijirou wheezes. He squeezes Katsuki a little harder and it makes his heart ache. “ Terrified. Y-you were scared of me-“

Oh fuck. 

What? No.. no he wasn’t scared.. damn it come on come on, Katsuki takes a deep breath and forces his arms to move, move at least long enough to wrap around Eijirou’s waist under his kimono. It’s smooth against his skin, but his skin is burning under it. 

“I’m so fucking sorry Katsuki-“

“ No,” Katsuki forces out. He tries to lift his head but it’s too hard to hold so he drops it again and scowls. “Shut up just… f-fuck wait a second.” 

Eijirou grips him tighter. He’s shaking so bad, fuck Katsuki tries to sort through his thoughts. What’s going on? 

Okay. Eijirou safeworded cause he thought Katsuki was afraid of him. And now he’s panicked, and trembling, and.. 

“I’m sorry,” Eijirou gasps into his shoulder. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

Katsuki takes a deep breath. He’s starting to feel better, every passing second he can grasp more, and he slowly runs one of his hands up Eijirou’s back and lightly digs his nails in. 

He’s shaking too now. Fuck, how did this happen? How the fuck does he fix it? He leans back and tries to look Eijirou in the eyes but the idiot is still buried in his neck. Fuck. Fuck fuck. He’s still breathing so quickly, Katsuki doesn’t know what to do, he just wants it to stop. 

Okay. Okay. Fuck. 

Katsuki tries to think. Eijirou is panicked and devastated because of what happened there at the end. And now he’s… 

Oh. Fuck. 

He must be dropping . 

That’s why he’s so upset. Like Katsuki had been in the shower, hopeless and lost and terrified. 

Katsuki hugs him tighter. Hugs him cause he can feel in his gut that he needs to. His heart is aching and he really hates it. 

“I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, fuck I-“

Eijirou feels like he might crack into a billion pieces in Katsuki’s arms. Anxiety courses through his blood. Fuck. No no… damn it he feels sick right now. He hates seeing Eijirou like this. 

“K-kats-”

“No, no hey,” Katsuki breathes, voice trembling. “It’s okay. You’re okay I promise-”

Eijirou chokes on his breath and starts shaking harder. Katsuki feels restless all of a sudden, damn it he can’t figure out how to help… fuck this is the worst. He feels anxious and pathetic and he would sell his fucking soul if it meant that Eijirou would feel better.

“Shh,” Katsuku squeezes his eyes shut as tight as his can, his heart is racing like it does when he’s losing against a huge fire. Fuck what does he do, Eijirou is shaking so badly...

“No, Eijirou h-hey.. fuck listen okay I-” like you.

Oh god. 

Really? Why now? He grits his teeth as his heart leaps into his throat and even more anxiety courses through him. Why is this coming up right now? Why is he just realizing it now? 

Fuck today. 

At least he was able to cut himself off before anything really bad came out. He doesn't have the energy for this bullshit right now. Eijirou is still crying, still trembling in Katsuki’s arms, and Katsuki is still butt ass naked in a collar. 

He takes a deep breath. He just needs to fix this. 

“Eijirou,” Katsuki says firmly. “Listen to me.” 

Eijirou takes a choked, shaky breath. 

“I wasn’t afraid of you,” he breathes. His fingers are trembling but he needs to be a solid force right now. “I’m never fucking afraid of you.” 

Eijirou pulls him tighter, making his back arch and his face twitches in pain but he bites his tongue. Eijirou needs this. 

“B-but y-you-“

“Hey,” Katsuki squeezes him tighter too. Fuck his heart is beating so fast it might kill him.

“Damn it i'm sorry I don't know-”

“You're dropping,” Katsuki cuts him off and Eijirou tenses up a little, his sobs pause. “Like you told me about sub-drops, that can happen to you too right?”

“A-ah..”

“That’s what’s happening.” 

Eijirou’s hands roll into fists on Katsuki’s back. “I’ve never.. I-”

“It’s okay. Im here,” Katsuki spits before he can help it. The words sound so strange coming from his mouth. Why did that come out so easily?

I like him.

Damn it. 

“S-sorry,” Eijirou gasps, and then he’s shaking again. Katsuki’s heart drops into his stomach and it’s so heartbreaking, it’s heartbreaking to hear and feel and see.

He holds Eijirou and lets Eijirou hold him. He tries to muddle through his panic over this stupid realization and figure out what would help. Holding each other is a good start but fuck...this isnt enough what can he do what would help?

“I-I like to read,” he blurts, panicked. Eijirou hiccups but he.. He pauses to listen. Okay. Okay um..

“Mostly um.. Mostly fantasy bullshit. Non fiction,” Jesus what is he doing? What is happening? 

Eijirou takes a shaky breath in Katsuki’s shoulder. At least he’s breathing. Fuck is talking about himself helping? Katsuki squeezes his eyes shut, begging his walls to go down at least a little bit for this. 

“I-I also write sometimes. No one knows about that,” He says under his breath. “I used to collect superhero comics as a kid. D-deku and I both did. It was all we had in common.”

Fuck. This is hard. But Eijirou is listening, he’s not crying anymore. “I wanted to be a superhero when I grew up, and all that bullshit. F-firefighting is as close as I can get to that.”

Eijirou hugs him tighter. Damn it, Katsuki’s heart is gonna kill him. His face is flaming. 

“I also listen to music a lot. I used to play the drums.”

“What kind of music,” Eijirou says quietly. Katsuki’s heart skips a beat. 

“Um.. rock. Alt rock?” 

Eijirou nods. He isn't shaking anymore and Katsuki thanks every God there is. It’s quiet for a second. 

“I like mountain climbing a lot too. Hiking and all that shit,” Katsuki mutters. Only his family knows about that hobby. 

Suddenly Eijirou is lifting his head and Katsuki’s face flames as he comes into view. His big red eyes are bright again, the edges are puffy and red but he’s smiling. His cheeks are blotchy, but hes smiling and Katsuki’s hands are moving to hold his face in both hands before he even realizes. 

“I like hiking too,” Eijirou says softly. Katsuki’s throat closes up. 

Fuck. Is it okay for his heart to feel this big right now? Is it okay to find this puffy faced, wrecked idiot so fucking adorable? He feels sort of nauseous, like his whole body is filled with nervous electricity. It’s nice to look at Eijirou’s face. His hands look like they belong there holding it. 

Is that normal?

“Yeah,” Katsuki wheezes, anxious and entranced by the bright red glow of Eijirou’s eyes, “You like superheroes too.”

Eijirou laughs weakly, it's so tired but so genuine it makes Katsuki’s heart ache a little more. Katsuki remembers when he had told him he liked superhero movies. “Yeah, I do.”

Katsuki’s eyes dart down to his lips. His heart beats faster. Is it too soon? 

“Can I kiss you,” he whispers. 

Eijirou smiles a bit bigger. “Fuck, I’d hope so.” 

Katsuki drags him in. His hands are shaking a little and he hopes Eijirou doesn’t notice. 

It’s a soft kiss, but not as soft as the last one. Katsuki makes sure it’s a comfortable one, and Eijirou’s lips aren’t trembling anymore, so he’s sure that also fuckin helps. Their lips are warm and slide together with practiced ease. 

Eijirou sighs against him when they part. His hands are on Katsuki’s waist now. Fuck. What now? Should he do.. that aftercare thing? Probably, right? 

“Do you want me to draw you a bath or some shit?” Katsuki says quietly. 

“Oh god no,” Eijirou presses their foreheads together. “Taking care of you will help.” 

Katsuki scowls. “Taking care of me?” 

Eijirou nods, and then brings a hand around and brushes against his abs and Katsuki flinches in pain. “Taking care of this.” 

Katsuki pouts.

“W-will you let me?” 

And that catches him off guard. Katsuki pulls back but Eijirou’s eyes are locked downwards, avoiding. His lips are pinched together and he looks nervous. Katsuki swallows heavily. 

“The fuck? Why wouldn’t I?” 

Eijirou’s lips pull to the side, “I don’t know if that’s.. I mean I caused it so I’m not sure if you-“

Katsuki pulls him back into a kiss to shut him up. Fuck, he hates seeing Eijirou like this. Ever since they first met he’s been nothing but a confident, strong force in Katsuki’s life, and now he’s nervous over basically nothing. 

“You get to shut the fuck up now,” Katsuki says. He wishes he could be softer but he doesn’t think he can. He holds Eijirou’s jaw in his hands and looks dead into red eyes. 

“Do I look upset to you?”

Eijirou blinks, eyes big and adorable. His cheeks are a little squished. “N-no..”

“That’s because I’m fucking not, ” Katsuki says firmly. “I’m here to help, hair-for-brains.”

Eijirou just blinks at him. Katsuki can't tell if he’s shocked or if he’s literally not listening to a damn word Katsuki is saying. 

“What do you need, you fucking idiot.”

Eijirou looks down at his lips and his brows draw together a little. “I-if i make sure you’re okay I’d feel less-”

“Alright. Go start my bath then,” Katsuki says. Eijirou looks up at him, and he smiles a little. His cheeks tint a little pink. 

“Actually I’m just gonna get some lotion,” Eijirou says softly. “Warm water would probably hurt.”

Katsuki’s face rages red in embarrassment. Fuck he’s right. The thought of a bath is not appealing right now. Again, he’s reminded that he doesn’t know jack shit. 

“Okay,” he mutters. 

Eijirou takes a breath and backs away from him. Katsuki’s legs are draped on top of his, so he doesn’t go far, but he looks down and pouts in the most adorable way Katsuki’s ever seen. 

“Can you stand now, do you think?” 

Katsuki’s legs still feel weak. His instinct is to say yes but he honestly knows better so he forces himself to shake his head no. 

Eijirou rubs a thumb along his side. “Okay. H-hang on.” 

And he’s slipping out from under Katsuki, and yeah, landing on his ass makes him wince, but he squeezes his eyes shut and pretends it doesn’t. Eijirou stands, and his legs wobble a bit too. 

One hand cradles his back, and the other slips under his legs. His gut jumps at the speed he’s lifted in the air, and his heart jumps when he realizes he’s being carried like a fucking princess. 

“W-wait-” 

“Oh calm down,” Eijirou says, not even fazed when Katsuki grips his neck for dear life. Jesus, why? Katsuki feels like a goddamn girl. 

But it’s quick. Almost as soon as he’s in the air Eijirou is lowering him onto the bed gently and even though his ass hurts it’s better than the floor. Eijirou smiles half-heartedly down at him as Katsuki unwraps from his neck. 

“Stomach or ass first,” Eijirou says quietly. There’s far too much regret and nerves in his voice and Katsuki really hates it. 

“Huh?” He frowns.

Eijirou blinks at him and smiles a bit more genuinely. “Which hurts more? Stomach or ass?” 

Katsuki wants to slap himself in the face. Idiot. 

“F-fucking stomach I guess,” he pouts down at the sheets, face red as all living fuck. His heart starts racing in his chest and he isn't sure if it’s because Eijirou giggles or because he’s mortified he’s still so slow. 

Eijirou looks frustrated though, when he places a hand on Katsuki’s chest and guides him to lay on his back. Katsuki narrows his eyes, watching like a hawk as Eijirou stands and walks over to find his boxers and slide them back up his legs. He pulls open the lower drawer of his nightstand and pulls out a bottle of lotion. That damn line is still between his brows and Katsuki fucking hates it. 

“God I feel like shit,” Eijirou says quietly, voice thick and rough as he comes close again and sits at the side of the bed next to him. 

Katsuki’s heart sinks. “Yeah.”

Its quiet as he pours a glob of lotion on his palm. Katsuki’s trying to think of what to say but comes up empty. He hopes this actually helps and Eijirou wasn't just saying all that to get the focus off of himself. 

Eijirou gently puts his hand on the red skin of Katsuki’s abs. It hurts immediately, he hisses through his teeth and looks down. The red area looks a lot bigger than it felt while it was happening. 

“Sorry,” Eijirou whispers. His touch is light, and when he slowly moves up it doesn't hurt that much anymore. The lotion is cool, and smooth. It actually feels nice. 

Really nice. 

His skin is burning. It hurts, and the feeling of it being touched is making his stomach erupt in butterflies. Holy shit. Ugh. He closes his eyes tight, as Eijirou gently, slowly moves his hand around the area and heat erupts all over his limbs. He’s also suddenly very aware of the collar still sitting around his neck, and the chain leash dangling off his shoulder. 

“Does it hurt?” Eijirou says, voice dripping with worry. Katsuki’s sure it’s cause his face is scrunched up. 

“Uh, Yeah,” he grits out. That’s the reason. Yup. 

“Fuck. I’m really sorry. I went too hard-”

Katsuki opens his eyes and his cheeks are hot, but he must have something in his eyes cause as soon as they make eye contact Eijirou stops talking and stops rubbing lotion onto his skin. His eyes widen just a bit, and Katsuki’s heart skips a beat as his face flushes and his attention switches down to Katsuki’s hip. 

Where he is very obviously hard. 

“U-uh-“

“You’re hard,” Eijirou says. His face is surprised but his tone is even and Katsuki can’t figure out what the fuck to do. 

“I-“

“Why,” Eijirou suddenly snaps to his face again, his red eyes bright and cheeks flushed. He looks focused. 

Katsuki swallows. He doesn’t know why. 

Eijirou blinks. He looks so blank , Katsuki doesn’t know why its so hot, not being able to read him. “Is it cause it hurts?” 

Katsuki takes a breath. He looks Eijirou dead in the eye and smirks, and his heart races as Eijirou’s face gets more red. His face morphs from blank to embarrassed and caught off guard and Katsuki likes it. 

“Maybe,” he says. Eijirou’s adam’s apple bobs. “You gonna do something about it?” 

“I don’t know,” Eijirou’s stupid frown makes a reappearance and Katsuki’s heart drops. He lifts himself up, and grabs ahold of Eijirou’s kimono and drags him closer. 

He tilts his head, almost going for a kiss but he stops. “You should fucking do something about it.” 

Eijirou huffs against his mouth. Katsuki feels hot, Eijirou’s hand is still resting on his abs and he wants it lower. 

“A-are you sure?”

Katsuki glares at him, and just as he’s about to yell, he gets an idea. 

He grabs the other side of Eijirou’s kimono and uses all of what’s left of his strength to fling him closer and then down onto the bed. His eyes are wide but Katsuki forces his legs to move and swing over his torso to straddle him. It hurts his ass and skin but it’s worth it for the stunned expression Eijirou blinks at him with. 

Katsuki puts on his cockiest smirk. He sits up and his legs are spread wide enough to hurt and his ass feels uncomfortably loose but it’s fine. 

He grabs his leash and holds it out, palm open.

“What does this mean,” he purrs. 

Eijirou’s lashes flutter and his cheeks darken, eyes darting back and forth between the collar on Katsuki’s neck and the leash in his hand. “W-what-“

“What. Does. This. Mean.” 

Eijirou looks at him. His pupils are a little blown. He gulps. 

“T-that you’re mine,” he whispers. Katsuki smirks again. 

He takes Eijirou’s hand and puts the leash in his palm, and then closes his fingers around it. 

“And what the fuck does that make you, huh?” Katsuki says. Eijirou’s face is so red. It’s so fucking great. 

“Yours,” Eijirou says, quickly, looking back up at him desperately. 

Katsuki’s heart swells, and he smiles. “Damn right.” 

Then it’s sort of spoken for, Katsuki dips down at the same moment Eijirou lifts up, and they crash together in a much needed kiss. 

Katsuki gasps into it. They haven’t kissed nearly as much tonight as they usually do, and the feeling of Eijirou’s tongue slipping into his mouth is making his heart flutter. 

There’s clinking sounds and then the leash is being pulled tight, keeping Katsuki right where he is, and it makes his cock twitch. His back and shoulders are sore but he really likes this. 

“You’re amazing,” Eijirou breathes weakly against his lips. Katsuki’s breathing is heavy and he swallows. “You know that right?” 

Katsuki smirks. This is better. Things are going back to normal. 

And then long, warm, lotioned fingers wrap around his cock and he jumps, whining into Eijirou’s mouth and immediately grabs his wrist. Eijirou freezes. 

“I-Im sorry I thought-“

“Shut up,” Katsuki snaps, breathless. They’re still so close. “You just didn’t let me cum before so I’m sensitive.” 

“Oh,” Eijirou whispers. 

“Where’s the lube,” Katsuki grumbles. Eijirou’s lips are kiss red. 

Eijirou huffs, “f-for what?” 

“The fuck do you think?” Katsuki reaches back, pleasantly finding Eijirou’s hard cock and pressing it along the crack of his ass. It’s big. 

Damn. 

“O-okay!” Eijirou squeaks, like a teenage boy. Katsuki wants to laugh but honestly he’s just glad he’s not doubting shit anymore.

And then Katsuki’s neck is being tugged, and he shouts and then starts laughing, Eijirou has the leash wrapped multiple times around his knuckles and he tried to suddenly reach and grab the lube from the drawer with that hand. 

“Ah! F-fuck sorry-“

Katsuki forces his laugh down, “You're so stupid.” 

Clumsy Eijirou is fun. It’s a nice break, from the confidence. Katsuki never thought he’d say it but maybe it’s nice to see a side of him that isn’t crazy intimidating and all knowing. Eijirou flushes a brighter red, gives him enough slack to lift up again and reaches for the lube with his other hand. 

“H-here,” Eijirou offers the bottle to him and Katsuki raises a brow. 

“Why the fuck are you so nervous, huh?”

Eijirou looks off to the side. Katsuki is certain he’s never seen him as red and flushed as he is right now. 

“You’re just really hot right now okay?” Eijirou mutters. “I feel drained and I cant think and youre really-”

Katsuki fights down his laugh, instead putting his hand over Eijirou’s mouth. His heart is raging, pounding and jumping and screaming in his chest at all the fucking compliments Eijirou keeps throwing at him. It makes him feel..

Wanted, maybe. And not just the sex want. Katsuki physically shakes the thoughts away. That's fucking stupid.

Katsuki takes the lube. He globs a bit of it in the middle of his palm and reaches behind himself. Eijirou gasps sharpy as Katsuki wraps his hand around his cock and strokes the lube over it. His hips jump up into the touch and the neediness in it makes Katsuki dizzy with desire. 

“What about stretching,” Eijirou breathes, his free hand running possessively up his side. Katsuki cant seem to break eye contact, and he doesn’t want to. Eijirou is looking at him like he wants to devour him. 

“You think I need it after earlier?” Katsuki breathes. 

Katsuki guides Eijirou to his entrance. He isn’t worried about the stretch. 

Fuck, okay, maybe he’s a little worried. He isn’t sure how this kind of thing works. He felt open this whole time but fuck Eijirou has a huge cock. He always forgets it until it’s pressing against him like it is-

Eijirou pulls him into a kiss at the same time Katsuki lets his cock slip in. 

The whine he makes is embarrassing. His lips are closed, pressed against Eijirou’s and he can’t tell if the vibration against his mouth is from him or Eijirou. His instinct is to tighten up around the intrusion but honestly? 

It feels good to be filled even a little bit. 

Katsuki scrambles and finds purchase on Eijirou’s chest, and pushes himself up. Eijirou gasps and his eyes look heavy as they open and watch Katsuki sit up. He unwraps one round of the leash to let him. 

His mouth is open and he’s panting. It makes Katsuki’s body flush with excitement, the way Eijirou is looking at him. He’s never felt as sexy and desirable as he does in this stupid ass bedroom. 

He swallows heavily, and his thighs strain, but he grabs the base of Eijirou’s cock and holds it as he slowly sinks down further. His rim burns just faintly, even with all the lube, and the fact that Eijirou was rough earlier. Distantly a part of him thinks that it probably didn’t hurt earlier because he was so fucking out of it. 

Now, he feels each and every fucking centimeter . 

It’s a lot. In this position, with this angle, Eijirou feels especially big, and honestly up until his thoughts are being kissed away he isn't sure if he can do it. 

But Eijirou does kiss everything away. Licks into his open mouth and holds his jaw and his waist and it’s so distracting and requires so much focus that Katsuki sits all the way down without even taking a fucking break. 

“So good,” Eijirou breathes into his mouth. “Youre-”

Katsuki cuts him off with a choked moan. He feels way too full and overwhelmed and his lower back aches in the strangest way. He pants against Eijirou’s lips, and tries to sort out his thoughts because they’re slowly disappearing and being replaced by fog. 

“You're trembling,” Eijirou whispers, his voice cracking. He runs his free hand up and down Katsuki’s side and the one still holding the leash is cupping his face. 

“ Full ,” Katsuki forces out. His limbs feel like heavy lava and he wants to collapse the longer he sits still. 

“Breathe,” Eijirou’s voice dips back into that smooth firm one Katsuki likes. “G-give me a color.”

“Green,” Katsuki huffs immediately. His face flames but he exhales a weak excuse for a laugh and smirks against Eijirou’s lips. 

“You flog me on two separate parts of my body, but think I’m breaking just from sitting on your cock?”

Eijirou moans weakly, and his cock twitches inside, and as much as Katsuki wants to laugh, he needs to move more. 

His legs ache, but he forces his hips to lift up until just the tip is left, and he looks down at Eijirou. His big eyes are lidded, both hands on Katsuki’s hips now, holding on tightly. Katsuki’s heart is racing, lodged in his throat, but he tilts his chin up and looks down his nose as he sinks back down. 

Eijirou's eyes are so heavy, his face is slack with pleasure. Katsuki loves it. He starts lifting and falling, using his hands on Eijirou’s chest to balance. 

The hands on his waist try and help lift him. Eijirou’s panting, his breath strained, and his eyes are locked to Katsuki’s torso. To his cock, and his abs, and his chest. 

“Fuck,” Katsuki breathes, his head falling forward. 

It feels good. It stings a little but it feels good. It's strange, riding someone, his thighs and abs burn a bit at the effort of raising and lowering his hips in the right way. Suddenly he has a lot of fucking respect for everyone who’s ridden him. 

Eijirou brings the hand with the leash back closer to himself, tugging it tight again, and it makes Katsuki clench down. The other hand drags up and brushes a thumb across his nipple. 

“You don't need to do this,” Eijirou says, voice dark and rocky. “It must be hard on your legs, no?” 

Katsuki moans in the back of his throat, putting more of his body weight on the man under him. He goes a little faster. He likes the slick feeling of Eijirou sliding in and out of him. 

“It's fine,” Katsuki breathes. “Feels good.” 

“Yeah.. it does.”

And then Eijirou is sitting up, and pulling him into another kiss. He moans into it immediately, lips parting and tongue swirling with Eijirou’s. Everything is warm, every inch of him feels so fucking warm he might die. He tries to pull back after a second, breath coming far too short, but the hand on the back of his head pulls him back and keeps him against Eijirou’s lips, and he squeaks. 

He moves his hips as tongues tangle. His mind is fuzzy and he likes how he can feel the fast, heavy beat of Eijirou’s heart under his hand. 

When they do part, a string of saliva connects their bottom lips. Eijirou still holds him close and Katsuki can feel the hand on his hip guiding him and it’s nice. He goes a little faster, as fast as he can manage with weak legs and their proximity. 

“God damn,” Eijirou grumbles. 

He lets Katsuki sit up properly and bounce, but he keeps a firm hand in Katsuki’s hair. Tilts his head back and it makes his back arch. The hand on his hip traces its way inward and wraps around Katsuki’s cock and he trembles, a moan echoing in his ears. Fuck, why does it feel so fucking good when Eijirou touches him?

“Tell me more about you.” 

“ Fuck .. right now?” Katsuki breathes weakly. He really isn’t in the mood to talk, it’s hard enough trying to think with how fucking big Eijirou feels inside him. 

“Yes.” 

Katsuki gulps, his stomach twisting in pleasure as Eijirou tightens his grip on his collar, letting go of his hair and pulling it so taught it pulls against the back of his neck. 

“I c-ant,” Katsuki grits through his teeth. He doesn't want to. He wants to ride this fucking idiot to hell and back. He already said so much about himself earlier. 

But then Eijirou's hand glides down to the base of his cock and tightens. Holding off any impending pleasure Katsuki could hope for. Making him stop moving to growl in frustration. 

“How do you still have energy to be an asshole,” he grumbles. 

“I could say the same to you,” Eijirou chuckles. “Just start talking.” 

Katsuki tries to hold out. He sits deadly still and clenches around Eijirou on purpose over and over but he doesn't budge. 

“Fine. I like spicy food,” he spits. Eijirou doesn't move his hand. 

“Bounce.” 

Katsuki bites back a moan. He lifts and drops and digs his nails into Eijirou’s pecs at the deep angle. The hand is still at the base of his cock and Katsuki wants to whimper but he holds back. 

Whatever. It's sort of hot. 

“I-I collected bugs as a ki-id,” Katsuki chokes out. Eijirou’s cock is going so deep it feels like it's punching his insides. 

Eijirou finally, finally takes his hand off. It lands on his thigh. Letting Katsuki bounce on his cock, doing nothing but holding the leash tight in a strong fist. Katsuki can't bring himself to look down, eyes squeezed shut. 

He pants, huffs heavily into the open air. Eijirou’s hand on his thigh tightens.

“Keep going.” 

Katsuki moans, quiet and cracked. Bounces a little faster. 

“I h-hate s- ah- sweets-” 

He reaches for his cock, it's bouncing with his movements and he wants to touch it. Eijirou immediately knocks his hand away. 

Damn it. 

“The only- hah -drink I l-like is whiskey,” he wheezes. Fuck he sounds weird. Weak and needy. 

“I know,” Eijirou says. 

Right. Duh. They met at a bar. Ummm….

“F-fuck I don't know,” he gasps. It's getting harder and harder to talk. “Um.. favorite- hah- color is red..”

“Oh~,” Eijirou purrs. Katsuki slams down and clenches around him and the asshole correctly chokes on an inhale. 

“Don't get a big he-head,” Katsuki snaps breathlessly. “It's been like that since I was a kid.” 

Eijirou laughs weakly, “I picked the- hah- right hair color then.”

Katsuki huffs in annoyance. Why are they talking again? He wants to cum. Eijirou's so hard Katsuki wouldn't be surprised if he was close too. 

The next time he sinks down Eijirou lifts his hips to meet him, and it causes tremors to run up his body at the impact. The leash is pulled tight again. 

“Keep going.” 

Katsuki scrunches his nose. Why? Damn it. He doesn't want to spill his darkest fucking secrets. 

“What makes you happy,” Eijirou says darkly. “What makes you angry?”

Katsuki whines. “ Why.” 

“Because I'm asking .” 

“Just let me fucking ride you,” Katsuki snaps. 

Eijirou laughs like Satan. “It's less fun that way.”

Katsuki chokes on a moan as their hips collide quickly, lifting and dropping like they need it to survive. Eijirou’s nails dig into his thigh and scrape downwards and the pain makes Katsuki’s arms shake where he’s balancing. 

“Open your mouth or we’re stopping,” Eijirou hisses. 

“A-ah I-” Katsuki hates himself. “I like time a-alone?”

Except when I'm with you.

“Be-ing looked down on makes me angry-”

Except when I'm with you.

“D-deku and his w-WIFE are my only friends,” he gasps. His eyes are squeezed too tightly. “But even they make me angry a lot-” 

“I love my job but-” my mom hates me for it. 

“I l-like curry and fizzy drinks and-” you.

Katsuki trembles, his voice breaking on a moan, his head is heavy and fuzzy, and the next time Eijirou thrusts up to meet him his elbows give out and it’s suddenly immensely difficult to move. 

He doesn't know why he keeps almost saying stupid shit. He’ll blame it on his depleting sanity and the cock inside him. 

“My turn.”

And then Eijirou is grabbing his hips in two big hands, and holding him still, and pounding up into him at the craziest pace Katsuki has ever felt in his fucking life. He collapses, moans being torn from his throat, and his face ends up buried in Eijirou’s neck. 

It's mind washing. The hard, quick slap of hips. How deep Eijirou is spearing into him. 

A hand is fisting in the back of his hair and tugging him back, just a little, enough to put the shell of his ear right against Eijirou’s mouth. 

“I grew up in the country,” Eijirou huffs. His voice is low and strained. “Four hours from here.” 

Katsuki tries to quiet down. He wants to hear but fuck its hard to keep everything in when he's being fucked so goddamn hard. When he feels this good.

“I love dogs. I used to play lacrosse growing up and I got my degree in sports sciences two years ago.” 

Katsuki hates that he can talk so easily. All he can to is hold on for dear fucking life and Eijirou’s chatting like they aren't really even having sex. 

His hips change angle and the next time he thrusts he hits Katsuki’s prostate dead on. Katsuki shouts and almost bites his own fucking tongue off trying not to do it again. 

“I’ve always had a thing for blondes,” Eijirou purrs. 

Fuck. 

“F-fuck of- AH-” 

Eijirou cuts him off with a too sharp snap of his hips and Katsuki's eyes roll up into his head. 

Dangerous teeth nibble at the shell of his ear and it sends shivers down Katsuki's body, making him dig his nails into Eijirou's chest as hard as he can just so he doesn't fucking vibrate in pleasure. 

“I bought my own gym at the beginning of this year- ah- it's doing well.” 

Katsuki pants too heavily. His own gym? That's why he's rich. Okay cool. All is answered. Katsuki’s over it. He clenches down and tries to thrust back but even with one hand Eijirou has a firm grip on him. 

“And I-”

“Wanna cum,” Katsuki growls. He squeezes his eyes shut. “Come on. Let me cum.” 

“No. I'm not done talking,” Eijirou snarls, pounding up into him harder. Katsuki fucking whines.

“I used to model too.” 

Katsuki’s eyes open. Model? 

“A few years ago a sports clothing c-ompany contacted me. Did a few shoots with them, not with my face though. I still get checks from it all the time.”

And yeah, the mental image of Eijirou's torso in tight sports gear is too much. Katsuki rolls his hips desperately, his cock throbs against Eijirou’s stomach. Katsuki whines and brings one of his hands out, stretching out to brace himself against the bed next to Eijirou's head. 

“F-fuck Eijirou...come on please ,” he gasps. 

“Okay, Pretty, okay,” Eijirou laughs breathlessly, and he let's go of Katsuki’s hair and wraps the hand around his cock. 

 “ Haha… fuck…” Katsuki breathes out a weak laugh in relief. Jesus fuck that feels good.

Eijirou kisses his cheek right before he falls back into his neck. And then his hips are picking up pace, something Katsuki didn't know had dwindled, and moans and gasps and choked noises are being pushed from him completely involuntarily. 

Getting fucked is strange. It feels good, he thinks, but when his cock is touched along with whatever they're doing, it's like…like he's just one huge live wire of pleasure. 

With Eijirou stroking him with that big hand and the quick pace of his hips Katsuki probably barely lasts 10 fucking seconds, his hands fist and pull the sheets and dig into Eijirou’s muscle. Every inch of him tenses up and then trembles as he cums so hard it hits his own fucking neck. 

“ E-Eijirou-” he wheezes, high and weak. Eijirou moans, strokes him through it but his hips go harder. 

His thighs tremble, he can feel it. He breathes out a moan and then every inch of him goes lax on Eijirou's torso. Even as he's fucked. It still feels good. 

“You are mine ,” Eijirou growls, low in his throat. Fucks harder. Grips him harder. 

Katsuki moans weakly, mindlessly turning his face and nuzzling his nose against the column of Eijirou's neck. He smells good. 

“Katsuki,” Eijirou moans. His hands are shaking. “C-can I...inside-”

Huh. Katsuki nods. Mostly out of curiosity. He wonders what it’ll feel like. Eijirou moans and grips him so hard he thinks he’ll bruise, and then his thrusts start to go erratic.

Wet, is what it feels like. 

Katsuki can vaguely feel his cock throbbing and twitching, but he can't feel any actual cum until he slides out a little. Then he can feel this thick warm wetness around his rim, spilling out, and it makes him freeze. Makes his heart skip a beat. Eijirou’s moan is loud and cracked in his ears. 

“Holy shit,” Katsuki wheezes. 

Eijirou chuckles breathlessly under him, and his hips slow and then drop to the bed. Katsuki lifts, and Eijirou slips out of him and there’s more wetness dripping out of him. His nose scrunches up. It feels ticklish and he doesn’t know if he likes it that much. If he had enough energy to move and touch himself there he would. 

As it is all he can do is try and get his breathing back to normal. Eijirou too. 

His big hands come up and run up and down his back gently. Katsuki melts against him, his legs spread still far too wide, and his stretched arm comes back to fold in between their bodies. 

“Thank you,” Eijirou suddenly breathes. 

“For what.” 

“That. This.” 

Katsuki rolls his eyes even though his heart pounds in a shitty way. Eijirou doesn’t need to thank him. It’s not like they’re dating or anything. 

Yeah. Not like that. 

“It’s fine,” he forces out. The sweat on his body is cooling and the cum dripping out of him is still horribly ticklish. 

Eijirou shifts, one of his hands comes in and forces him up, cupping his cheek. His big eyes are dripping with sincerity, even as his cheeks are still flushed. He drags Katsuki in for a kiss that’s far too soft. A part of Katsuki’s brain tries to find emotion in it, but he pushes it down. It’s just a fucking kiss. 

And this is just sex.

Because...Eijirou does this all the time. 

Katsuki isn’t special, or new, or addictive to him like he is to Katsuki. And he’d be fucking stupid to think otherwise. 

—————

Katsuki ends up on his side the rest of the night. Eijirou finishes putting lotion on all the areas he whipped. He forces Katsuki to stand in the shower long enough to get the cum out. It’s embarrassing and uncomfortable. Katsuki hits him the whole time, but Eijirou doesn’t seem fazed. He apologizes a lot, but laughs too. 

He’s cautious about touching. Even as they settle into bed, when Eijirou pulls the sheets up he’s careful not to brush it against any red areas of Katsuki’s body. 

Katsuki forces himself closer, though. He’s fucking tired and Eijirou’s body is warm, so he curls up against him even though Eijirou insists that it’ll hurt. 

“Okay okay,” Eijirou laughs. His arm shifts and drapes around his shoulders. 

Katsuki sighs. His eyes finally fall shut. Eijirou’s chest is so fucking warm under his cheek. He can hear the steady beat of his heart. It’s quiet in the room, and he’s fucking greatful. He’s gonna pass out so hard. He’s never slept with anyone before like this. 

It’s nice.

Ugh. 

“Hey,” Eijirou says. Katsuki grunts. “You froze up. What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Katsuki lies through his teeth. “I’m fucking tired.” 

Really, there’s a fucking lot wrong. He’s catching one sided feelings. He’s reading into the fact that he’s in Eijirou’s bed instead of the guest room. Reading into the fact that Eijirou’s heart beat is steady and not constantly racing like Katsuki’s is. 

“Okay,” Eijirou whispers. 

Katsuki furrows his brow. He’d clench his fist but Eijirou would definitely notice it. His arm is around the asshole’s waist. He’d notice.

“I like hearing about what you like,” Eijirou says suddenly. Katsuki’s throat knots up. “You know that right?” 

Katsuki grunts. His stupid heart. 

“I worry about messing this up.” 

Katsuki’s breath hitches. “What?” 

“You and me. I’ve never… like… I don’t know,” Eijirou breathes. His voice is raw. “I don’t want to hurt you in the wrong way.” 

Katsuki scowls. Fucking ridiculous. “You need to fucking trust me, if I’m supposed to trust you.” 

“You’re right,” Eijirou breathes. “I used to think there was something wrong with me, for liking what I like. I would be all, ‘if I like inflicting pain and making people cry, doesn’t that mean I’m evil?’”

Katsuki frowns harder. He gets it, but still. Eijirou’s always so confident. The shit he does is interesting, and captivating, and hot. What’s wrong with that? 

“I never want to be the villain,” Eijirou whispers. “Despite liking what I like. When I was about to hit you tonight you looked scared of me, and I felt like a villain.” 

Katsuki’s heart stops beating in his chest. He doesn’t want to say it, but Eijirou is like… the least ‘villain-y’ person Katsuki’s ever fucking meant in his life. He isn’t sure how to convey that without sounding stupid. 

“I’m sorry,” Katsuki whispers. “I was really out of it, you know. I wasn’t actually scared.” 

Eijirou laughs, but it’s forced. Katsuki wants to hit him. 

“No I know. I just wanted to explain. I never usually safeword. I think it was just a mix of.. how we rushed into it really quickly, and this looming reminder that you’re still new to all of it.” 

Katsuki frowns, “I’m not letting you do this shit for no reason. I like it too. I..” 

Fuck. Damn it. Eijirou is silent, waiting for him to finish. Katsuki grits his teeth and when he actually clenches his fist Eijirou doesn’t acknowledge it. 

“I had a shitty fight with my mom today. That’s why I.. fuck,” Katsuki’s face flames bright red in mortification. “I didn’t mean to throw you into it and shit. I just needed not to fucking think.” 

Eijirou kisses the top of his head and for some reason Katsuki gets this sudden, bodily urge to run away. It feels kind, and domestic. And he wants to run.

“That’s okay you know,” Eijirou says quietly. “I can do that for you, from now on. If you ever need it just tell me.” 

“I don’t need shit ,” Katsuki spits. He isn’t sure if it’s in panic or if it’s automatic. 

“I know,” Eijirou audibly smiles. “But it is nice sometimes.” 

Katsuki takes a deep breath. It’s quiet for a while, and Eijirou’s fingers start tracing designs on the skin of his back. It unravels his fists and the scowl lines on his face before he realizes. 

“Do you ever need-“ 

“All the time,” Eijirou cuts him off. “I like to be in control. That’s what shuts my brain off. I doubt myself too much and feel out of control in my life a lot. Making someone as beautiful and strong as you break makes those thoughts quiet.” 

Katsuki’s heart starts racing again, and his face heats up. Stupid asshole. Why’d he have to phrase it like that? Damn it damn it damn it. 

“It’s the.. o-opposite for me,” Katsuki mutters under his breath. He sort of hopes Eijirou doesn’t hear him. 

“Then we make a pretty good team,” Eijirou says softly. “Huh?” 

Katsuki’s heart sinks. He wishes that meant something more than it did. 

“Yeah. I guess we do.” 

He’ll take what he can get, though. 

Chapter Text

Katsuki does have bruises the next few days. 

He never thought that bruising and cuts were attractive. He thinks hickeys and marks that scream I had sex are trashy and obnoxious.

But fuck, the marks from that night look really good, for some reason. 

He stands in front of the mirror every day a lot longer than he usually does. Even now, as his bathroom fills up slowly with steam, his eyes are locked on the reflection of his own torso. His fingers trace the outside of the huge, splotchy, black and blue bruise covering a good portion of his abs. 

It looks like some strange piece of art. Blacks and blues, yellows and greens. It hurts if he curls in on himself too much, if he puts pressure on it. It was red for a good 24 hours afterwards. 

His ass is a little better, but it’s bruised too. It hurts if he sits down too heavily, or on hard surfaces. 

Katsuki blinks himself back to reality. Pulls his boxers down and scowls, trying to ignore how hot his face is. He's taken showers since, but everytime the hot water hits he needs to take a second to adjust to it.     The pressure and temperature hurt at first.

It's weird. Whenever something happens to make the areas hurt, like sitting down too hard or taking a shower, he feels strangely calm. Like sort of being shocked back into place. 

Maybe he doesn't hate marks quite as much as he thought. 

He scowls at his tile wall as he massages shampoo into his hair. Stupid Kirishima Eijirou. Katsuki always used to be so sure about his thinking before meeting that bastard. Realizing he actually has feelings for him makes everything worse too. 

He’s not one to ever catch feelings. At first he thought it might just be because he trusts Eijirou in a way he’s never trusted anyone before, or because the sex is so fucking good. 

But it’s not that. At least, not only that. The more he thinks about it, and Jesus Christ has he thought about it, the more he realizes that this shit is a bit more than that. Because he doesn’t hate kissing Eijirou. He doesn’t hate being held, or making him laugh, and he hasn’t once found him ugly or obnoxious. He likes learning about him. Listening to him talk. 

That isn’t nothing, he doesn’t think. Especially if this is the first time he’s ever felt anything like it. 

He isn’t sure what he wants to do about it. Deku has been tip toeing around him at work, like the nerd can hear his inner turmoil. Katsuki hates him most of the time, but sometimes their synchronicity is nice. He doesn’t feel pressured as much to figure it out and let him and Uraraka know what the fuck is going on before he even knows himself. 

Eijirou sent him home with the lotion he used that night, but they haven’t talked much since. Katsuki feels fucking shitty for being so distracted from work, so he forces himself to avoid reaching out to Eijirou again for four whole days. He works. Offers to drive the truck when there’s a call. Does all the shitty work that his co-workers hate and hopes that no one notices he’s trying to make up for himself. 

He doubts they do. They’re all assholes anyways. 

Katsuki is a little frustrated though. He’s pretty sure he’s only held off this long because the bruises are still around to bring him back into that moment. To keep him calm and quiet. 

Plus, he has a good memory to use each night before going to sleep. 

Seriously though. Has his sex drive always been this fucking high? He used to get an itch once every like.. two, maybe three months. Now he can barely go a week? How inconvenient. 

He’s walking home from work on the 5th day, when his phone rings with Eijirou’s contact. 

“What.”

“Hi Katsuki. Guess what,” Eijirou’s deep voice seems to drip from the phone and Katsuki scowls at the sidewalk. 

Katsuki's heart stutters in his rib cage. Jesus, what’s with that evil tone of voice? What’s the idiot up to now? What else could he possibly fucking surprise Katsuki with. 

“What,” Katsuki tries to keep the shake out of his voice but he isn’t sure it works. 

“I got you something.” 

Katsuki breathes out. His heart is still racing, anxiety still tingling in his fingers but he huffs out a weak laugh. 

”Fucking seriously ?”