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“Can’t believe you let him out the house dressed like that.”
A heavy arm slings across Katsuki’s shoulder. He knows who it is without even looking—Hanta has a distinct scent, especially when he’s fresh from patrol. Sweat and musk and cigarettes. It’s distasteful to the blond, but Shouto loves it for some reason.
Shouto, Katsuki’s boyfriend, is the vision in question. He’s stunning no matter what he wears, but tonight Shouto has gone all out for his birthday. He is seated across the room on a plush sofa with Momo and Denki, long legs bare and crossed primly in front of him. He’s poured into a tight blue minidress and strappy heels. His face is done up in subtle eye makeup, and his hair is shiny and loose, tossed over one shoulder.
He's a total knockout—completely ethereal, practically glowing. Katsuki hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off him all night, and he knows he’s not the only one.
With a grunt, Katsuki shakes the other man’s arm off of him. “Don’t remember inviting you.” He sneers.
“Aw.” Hanta laughs, nonplussed. He’s still wearing his uniform beneath a ratty, worn leather jacket. “You don’t think he’ll be happy to see me?”
“Not after the shit you pulled last time.”
The taller male hums, sticking his hands in his pockets. His hungry gaze hasn’t left Shouto for a moment. “I can change his mind.”
“Yeah? Good luck.”
“We’ll see.” Hanta winks. Then he leaves Katsuki at the bar and makes his way over to Shouto, moving like a fox towards its unsuspecting prey.
Katsuki rolls his eyes but makes no move to stop him.
This thing —the thing that Shouto has with Hanta—it’s none of his business. Katsuki tries to stay out of it as much as possible. He and Hanta are finally on good terms again, and for Shouto’s sake, he doesn’t want to ruin things.
Shouto is capable of making his own decisions, even when Katsuki doesn’t approve. It’s not up to Katsuki to intervene.
Still, Katsuki’s an observer. So he observes.
Sipping his drink, he watches as Hanta casually drops down onto the sofa next to Shouto. Shouto looks at him in surprise, but then a look of annoyance passes across his pretty face. They engage in what looks like small talk-- but after a short while Shouto frowns, tosses his hair and stands up, moving to a different part of the lounge with his friends at his side.
Hanta’s grin is still plastered to his face; he’s not deterred at all.
For the next hour, he relentlessly chases Shouto around the bar. Buying him drinks, clearing off the tables, practically waiting on him hand and foot. He even attempts to follow Shouto into the bathroom, but is stopped by Momo placing a firm hand to his chest. She’s even less amused by Hanta’s antics than Katsuki is.
But of course, Shouto is eventually worn down. If Shouto has one flaw, it’s that he always, always gives Hanta what he wants.
Katsuki watches the moment Shouto gives in, lets Hanta draw him in close on the dance floor. Hanta wraps his hands around Shouto’s hips and begins to gently sway their bodies together. Shouto’s arms wind around Hanta’s broad shoulders, and Katsuki watches as they flirt in hushed tones, lost in their own little world.
Katsuki doesn’t mind. In fact, seeing them together makes his blood warm in anticipation.
It’s not his birthday, but Katsuki’s getting exactly what he wants tonight, too. It’s a win/win. He closes out his and Shouto’s tab at the bar, finally giving the two a reprieve from his watchful gaze.
Twenty minutes later he finds them making out hotly next to the bathrooms. Hanta’s hand is beneath Shouto’s dress, cupping his ass and giving anyone passing by a glimpse of Shouto’s panties. Uncaring, Shouto has both of his hands gripping the front of Hanta’s jacket, moaning as his mouth is ravaged by Hanta’s tongue.
Katsuki adjusts his pants, then clears his throat. “Oi. Ready to go?”
The couple in front of him part slowly. Hanta gives Katsuki a smug look, a ‘told you so.’ Shouto clings to him as he turns his half-lidded gaze onto Katsuki. He licks his lips and nods.
“He said he’s staying.” Shouto whispers as they wait outside for the cab. Hanta’s still inside, making his goodbye rounds. It’s freezing out, so Katsuki has Shouto pressed closed to him, arm around his waist as he leeches off of Shouto’s fire side.
“Mm-hm.” Katsuki responds noncommittally.
“Maybe you can cook for us in the morning.” Shouto bites his lip, hopeful. “Do you think he—”
Katsuki doesn’t think much of anything, when it comes to Hanta. For the sake of his sanity, he forces himself to be utterly neutral about him.
Katsuki leans over and kisses Shouto. “Let’s focus on tonight first, baby. That’s what it’s about.”
They arrive at Shouto’s apartment just after midnight, a massive penthouse on the lower east side that Katsuki has all but moved in to. Hanta sweeps a giggling Shouto up into his arms the second the door is unlocked, bridal carrying him into the foyer and making a beeline to Shouto’s bedroom.
Conversely, Katsuki takes his time, allowing the two some precious moments alone. He hangs up his coat, tidies up the foyer, and even does a couple of dishes before retrieving some bottled water from the fridge and heading down the hallway.
He finds them on Shouto’s gigantic bed (big enough for three, intentionally). Hanta is sitting on the edge with Shouto in his lap, kissing and feeling each other up unhurriedly beneath the low lighting. Hanta still has his jacket on, and Katsuki curls his lip in disgust; but since Shouto doesn’t mind his bedsheets smelling like smoke, he doesn’t say anything. He sets the water on the dresser and picks up the remote.
On the bed, Shouto and Hanta draw apart, endorphins buzzing between them as they share an electric gaze.
“You look so pretty tonight, baby.” Hanta sighs, hooking his finger beneath a skinny blue strap and drawing it down a creamy shoulder. “I almost don’t want to watch you strip.”
“Watch me strip?” Shouto pouts. “It’s my birthday. You and Katsuki should be the ones stripping.”
“I forgot my g-string at home.” Hanta mock laments. “Looks like it’s on you, Blondie.”
“In your dreams.” Katsuki scoffs without sparing them a glance. He’s scrolling through their media hub, searching for an acceptable playlist.
“Yeah, maybe.” Hanta grins. “Ease up, baby girl.”
Shouto sits back on Hanta’s knees. Hanta pulls a tin from the inside pocket of his jacket. Long tattooed fingers pry it open, revealing three tightly rolled joints. Shouto’s eyes light up.
“Happy birthday, mi amor.” Hanta murmurs.
Hanta and Shouto share the first joint and do some light petting on the bed. Lip caught absently between his teeth, Katsuki finally decides on a playlist. Low, sensuous beats flow out from the sound system, filling the room and setting the perfect mood for all of the filthy things they’re going to get up to tonight.
Katsuki turns to find Hanta on his back, his ratty jacket finally discarded. Good. Shouto is straddling him, shoulder straps loose, eyes half lidded as he inhales from the joint held daintily between his fingers.
“Gorgeous,” Hanta breathes. Katsuki has to agree. He approaches the two of them, dragging a hand up Shouto’s spine and making him arch. Turning his head, Shouto shotguns the smoke into Katsuki’s waiting mouth and passes the joint back to Hanta. Hanta takes a puff, one elbow folded beneath his head as he watches Shouto and Katsuki kiss passionately.
Katsuki breaks the kiss and meets Hanta’s glittering gaze. He winks, mouth open as he presses scattered kisses down Shouto’s neck. Hanta rolls his eyes, exhaling smoke towards the ceiling.
Katsuki kisses the top of his boyfriend’s spine. Shouto sighs and grinds his hips against Hanta’s. Katsuki finds the zipper at the back of his dress as Hanta’s spidery hands climb up Shouto’s creamy thighs.
“God—mn, yes—"
If there’s anything hotter than watching Shouto take Hanta’s cock, Katsuki hasn’t discovered it yet.
They end up in nearly the same position, fully on the bed. Shouto’s legs are wrapped tightly around Hanta’s bare hips as Hanta fucks him in long, deep strokes. Katsuki supports Shouto from behind, kissing his neck and roughly playing with his nipples as he murmurs sweet nothings into his ear. He’s hard as a rock in his skintight black boxers, but Katsuki doesn’t free his erection. Not yet.
Shouto’s pretty face is flushed, delicate tears dampening the corners of his eyes as he whines in pleasure. His dress had cost Katsuki nearly 3 grand, and now it’s bunched up around Shouto’s waist, wrinkling with every thrust he takes. His makeup is smudged, half lidded eyes and swollen lips making him look like a fully debauched slut.
The second joint burns out in a crystal ashtray on the bedside table. Katsuki had it last, but he became too distracted and had to put it down.
Instead of smoking, he’s staring-- completely entranced by the way Hanta’s hips move, so fluid and sensual as he fucks in and out of Shouto’s greedy hole.
I could watch only this forever, Katsuki thinks, not for the first time. Every time they fuck—or every time Hanta fucks Shouto while Katsuki watches—it’s never anything less than mind-blowing. Of course they’ve been intimate with other partners— (have a reputation for it, in fact) but it’s never anywhere near as good as it is with Hanta. It’s why Shouto keeps forgiving him time and time again, and why Katsuki never says anything when he does. It’s not healthy, but… he gets it.
Everything about Hanta is intoxicating. His full lips and easy grin, the sexy tattoos across his chest and arms… the way his thin gold crucifix looks tapping his chest as he fucks, his piercings, the solid muscle of his tanned stomach and v-cut, trimmed hair trailing down to his dark, heavy cock…
Katsuki always ends up burying his face in Shouto’s neck, sucking and biting to stop himself from speaking his thoughts out loud—thoughts like “that fat cock looks so good fucking my boyfriend” and “goddamn, wanna see if you take dick as good as you give it”-- but that would be crossing an unspoken line between them.
Hanta is too fucking hot, and Katsuki has always thought so. But his simmering attraction to the other man has always gone unspoken. He’s perfectly fine with this arrangement, loves watching the love of his life get screwed by Hanta. He just… sometimes, he just wants more.
But he never dares ask. Because Hanta—
Hanta only has eyes for Shouto.
At least most of the time.
But this time—
--well, maybe this time Katsuki’s stare is a little too hot. Maybe he’s fantasizing a little too intensely. Because all of a sudden, Hanta’s hooded chocolate eyes are flickering up to meet Katsuki’s.
“Whatcha lookin’ at, blondie?” Hanta drawls, mischief in his voice. His thrusts slow to short little grinds that make Shouto mewl. Katsuki’s heart leaps into his chest.
“That filthy fucking mouth.” Katsuki responds, trying to sound indifferent as he meets Hanta’s gaze.
“Oh… but you like my mouth.” Hanta taunts. “Right, papi?”
He pushes in all the way to his base and Shouto makes a noise half between a gasp and a hiccup, high and reedy. Katsuki nearly makes a similar noise. Hanta is just so…
In lieu of an agreement, he snarls and viciously snaps his teeth at Hanta. A threat that he doesn’t really mean. Hanta smirks as he avoids it.
“No biting.” Hanta chides.
“Scared of me?” Katsuki shoots back. “Pussy.”
Hanta bites his lip and moans, deep and exaggerated. “Mmn… your girlfriend’s, yeah.”
He demonstrates his enjoyment by pushing a series of long strokes inside Shouto, making his moans go high pitched, tears spilling over the corners of his eyes, mascara and eyeliner trailing across his face. Hanta grins, wiping the wetness from Shouto’s cheek and licking it off his thumb.
“Kiss him,” Shouto pleads, and it doesn’t matter who he’s talking to. Katsuki’s heart nearly thrums out of his chest as Hanta fixes him with his sultry, hypnotizing gaze, leans in and—
--and suddenly they’re kissing, slow and deep. Hanta tastes like cigarettes and Katsuki finally gets the appeal. The way he kisses is assertive and sure, and there’s hints of strawberry lip gloss on his tongue. It’s addictive.
Katsuki grips Shouto’s waist hard enough to bruise. Because being kissed by Hanta is so fucking good, and he knows Shouto will forgive him. Knows Shouto knows exactly how he’s feeling.
Shouto purrs when the two men part, eyes glassy at the display. “I wanna taste,” he whimpers.
“Both of us, princess?” Hanta asks, slightly breathless as he stares at Katsuki. Katsuki musters up his best sneer in return.
“Both of you.” Shouto demands. Then he sticks out his soft wet tongue like the gorgeous, bratty dream that he is.
Though he’s just as taken by Shouto’s display as Hanta is, Katsuki doesn’t hesitate for a moment. He meets Hanta’s lips again, this time unable to stop himself from sinking his teeth into that full lower lip. To his delight Hanta groans, his tongue sliding back into Katsuki’s mouth, and he draws Katsuki into a filthy, decadent kiss before paying him back with a sharp bite of his own. Katsuki can feel him smirk against his lips, and he wants to tag him back but god, he has to be careful, he doesn’t want to push this too far—so he concedes, allowing the kiss to end naturally all the while craving more.
Hanta pulls back and then, slowly, he lets a line of spit drip into Shouto’s waiting mouth. Shouto meets his gaze evenly and swallows what he’s given, then sticks out his tongue for more.
Katsuki can feel the way Hanta shudders. “Good girl,” Katsuki murmurs in Shouto’s ear, eyes still fixed on Hanta, blood running red hot. But—
Fuck. Unfortunately, woefully, he has lost the other man’s attention. Hanta is now utterly transfixed by Shouto, by his parted glossy lips and glowing mismatched eyes. Their moment is over.
“Coño, mi amor…” Hanta groans before swooping down to kiss the wanton beauty below him. “You’re something else, baby…” The roll of his hips resume. Shouto’s arms wrap around his shoulders; nails digging sharply into tan skin.
Katsuki trails his hands down Shouto’s sides, grasping his hips and lifting him up so Hanta can drill in even deeper. Shouto gasps as Hanta rams into him mercilessly, unable to squirm away or run from it. Katsuki is perfectly content to slide back in his role; and the lingering thoughts of the kiss are enough to tide Katsuki over, for now. He commits to Shouto’s pleasure while thinking of Hanta’s mouth, his teeth on Katsuki’s lip…
So preoccupied by the kiss, Katsuki almost misses it when Shouto cums; but he tunes back in just in time to see Shouto arch with a loud wail, squirting his release all over Hanta’s stomach. “That’s it, pretty girl…” He groans in approval, kissing Shouto’s cheek, ending it with a gentle bite.
Hanta watches Shouto’s orgasm as if it’s his own personal rapture. The look in his eyes downright animalistic as he samples Shouto’s release off of his own abdomen and emits a guttural groan. “Tastes so fucking good, baby.”
Katsuki’s gaze drops, watching the smooth glide, nearly salivating at the wet mess on their thighs. Absolutely sinful. Katsuki’s nearly reached his limit as well, finally drawing his cock out from where it was confined beneath his boxers.
“Hanta…” Shouto slurs, desperately throwing his arm behind him, searching for something to hold on to until he latches on to Katsuki’s skull, threading his fingers through blonde spikes. His other hand tightly grips Hanta’s flexing bicep.
“Talk to me, sweetheart.” Hanta’s voice is strained; he’s nearing his limit as well.
“… don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop…”
“He’s fucking you good?” Katsuki mutters in Shouto’s ear. “Look at that pretty pussy, all stretched out and used.”
Shouto’s eyes roll back at the sound of Katsuki’s voice. His nails dig into Hanta’s skin, deep enough to sting. “F-fuck, Katsuki…”
Katsuki jerks himself off, mouthing at Shouto’s neck. Hanta is muttering under his breath, curses and praises and Shouto’s name, over and over. Shouto reaches for him, keening, and Hanta grabs his hand, pressing kisses along his palm and wrist.
“Gonna give you this nut,” Hanta pants. “You want it? Tell me, baby, fuck–”
“Yes! Yes, mmgh, Hanta, give it to me please, I--”
"Look at me," Hanta demands, his breath ragged. Shouto’s hair is sticking to his forehead, and Katsuki absentmindedly brushes the strands away so Hanta can see those pretty eyes.
With a guttural noise, Hanta slams his hand down on the bedsheets and cums deep inside Shouto, his thrusts slowing as he savors his release. His eyes flutter shut, and Katsuki takes that moment to stare unabashedly at Hanta, then at the place where Hanta and Shouto are still joined. When foamy pearls of Hanta’s release start to appear around Shouto’s entrance, Katsuki groans, squeezes his cock and shoots his load across Shouto’s lower back, his own eyes falling shut in the process.
Fuck. He hasn’t cum that quick in ages. Katsuki takes a moment to ride it out and catch his breath.
When he re-opens his eyes, he sees that Hanta has Shouto’s chin in his hand, holding him still with a possessive grip. Shouto is giggling as Hanta peppers his face with soft kisses.
“God, I fuckin’ missed you,” Hanta mumbles into their kiss, and Katsuki pretends not to hear it.
Katsuki really has to give it to Hanta.
His stealth has greatly improved over the years. It isn’t until Hanta has shrugged on that ratty old jacket that Katsuki cracks an eye open, instantly honing in on the lanky figure standing by the doorway.
He knows there’s no point in reacting or getting upset, but Katsuki does so anyway. He slips out of bed behind the traitor and waits until Hanta steps out into the hallway to grab him and-- as quietly as he possibly can— pin him up against the wall by his fucking throat.
“Oh. Hey.” Hanta wheezes. Casually. Like he wasn’t just caught trying to sneak out.
“Don’t fucking—” Katsuki closes his eyes and exhales, nearly breathing sparks out his nose. “So you lied to him? Again?”
Hanta gives him a long, unreadable look. Then he grins lazily in the dark. “Come on. I’m supposed to just walk away when he’s all dolled up like that?”
“You’re such a fucking snake.” Katsuki hisses, pressing harder against Hanta’s adam’s apple. He knew this was going to happen, had said as much to Shouto—so why is he suddenly so angry?
“Sure, tough guy.” Hanta drops a pointed look at Katsuki’s forearm. “Whatever you say.”
Katsuki lowers his arm but doesn’t budge an inch out of Hanta’s face. “Acting like it would fucking kill you to stay for once--”
“Maybe it would.” Hanta rolls his shoulder and shrugs. He’s so careless about it, it makes Katsuki’s blood boil.
“Bullshit. You just get off on treating him like shit. Making him feel like this.” Making us feel like this, is what Katsuki would have said if he were braver.
“Feel like what?”
“Used. Like he’s fucking cheap.”
Hanta barks a loud laugh. “He’s the one who feels cheap? Funny.”
“Nothing funny about it, dickhead.” Katsuki hisses. “Next time just be honest instead of lying to his face—"
“You want me to be honest?”
Unexpectedly, Hanta’s veneer cracks. He shoves Katsuki away, rising to his full height as his eyes spark with anger. “I try every time. Every goddamn time. But I fucking HATE sleeping in the same bed as his first choice.”
Katsuki falters, immediately defensive. “I’m not—"
But he has to stop himself before he lies. That’s a subject that they haven’t touched on in a while. Years, even. He thought it didn’t matter anymore. He thought that Hanta would have moved on by now. He thought…
He thought that Hanta got it. That they both want him, want to keep him in their bed and never let him leave.
But apparently it doesn’t matter that both Shouto and Katsuki want Hanta.
Because the only thing Hanta wants is Shouto.
And maybe that’s why Katsuki’s so pissed. Because what the fuck.
Katsuki’s not good enough for Hanta, is that really all there is to it? Katsuki doesn’t know why it stings so much. Guess he can blame it on his stupid ego, in the end.
But he steadies himself. Because ultimately this isn’t about him; it’s about Shouto.
And no one disrespects Shouto, first and foremost.
“I don’t give a shit about that.” Katsuki snaps. “You can’t treat him like this. Stop fucking lying to him.”
Hanta states at him for a long, anxiety-inducing stretch. Katsuki thinks Hanta probably has him figured out. Probably has, for a while now.
Then Hanta adopts his usual grin. Only nastier.
“Or what? Huh, papi?”
You rotten motherfucker—Katsuki grits his teeth, flushed with embarrassment; and he nearly lunges at Hanta again, until--
--from the bedroom, beneath a pile of blankets comes a weary voice.
“Katsuki,” Shouto calls, soft and fragile. “Let him leave.”
Katsuki stops in his tracks. Goddamn it. He didn’t intend to wake Shouto up, but his anger got the best of him. He clenches his fists, attempting to cool down.
Hanta gives him a smug look that doesn’t reach his eyes. He tilts his head to the side. Well?
“Whatever.” Katsuki crosses his arms, sneering at the man. “Beat it, asshole. You know where the door is.”
“Sure do.” Hanta laughs humorlessly. Deliberately slow, he pulls out the same tin from earlier and lights the third joint. He stares Katsuki down as he takes a long drag. “See ya blondie.” He blows an unseen kiss towards the bedroom. “Goodnight, mi amor.” he calls.
Shouto doesn’t respond, but it doesn’t seem as Hanta expected him to. Without another word he disappears down the unlit hallway, leaving only a cloud of sour smoke in his wake.
Katsuki stands there until he hears the front door click shut. Then he turns, feeling oddly out of sorts as he makes his way back to Shouto’s bed. He feels equal parts riled up and exhausted, pissed and a little sad as well as a hundred other foreign emotions bubbling up under the surface.
He all but collapses onto the duvet. “Fuck.” He exhales, before crawling up the bed to wrap his arms around Shouto and spoon him from behind. His boyfriend is still as stone, and cold like one too.
He drops a kiss on the back of Shouto’s neck, pressing up close. “Baby... I’m sorry.” He whispers.
Shouto is quiet for so long that Katsuki thinks he has already fallen back asleep. It’s only when he starts to doze off himself that he hears Shouto’s voice, breaking sorrowfully in the night.
“Me too, Katsuki.”
end