Chapter Text
EPILOGUE
Hitoshi trudges down the sidewalk, shaking water out of his hair as he goes. It’s late. The rain is already starting to soak through his clothes, and now he really regrets leaving his apartment with only a zip-up hoodie to protect him from the downpour. He’s considering popping into a convenience store to grab an umbrella when his phone starts vibrating in his pocket. He ducks under a nearby awning to check it.
> Oi loser
> You coming over or what
omw relax <
> Eat shit
He bites back a smile and shoves the phone in his pocket before hurrying back out onto the rain-soaked sidewalk. And if he happens to spend a few long, petty minutes in a convenience store for no reason—they were out of umbrellas, go figure—then ain’t that just the way.
Katsuki called earlier that day asking Hitoshi to swing by his apartment to go over some files. Their agencies were collaborating on an ongoing investigation into some minor villain organization, and apparently Katsuki and Izuku might have found a lead that Hitoshi just had to fucking hear about at ten o’clock on a Friday night.
It’s not like he was planning on sleeping or doing literally anything else, but still. It’s about the principle. The downright audacity to make Hitoshi spend his Friday night trapped inside watching the Wonder Duo play detectives. As he approaches Katsuki’s place, Hitoshi thinks about his cat: all alone in the apartment, snoozing, vibing, and doing everything Hitoshi wishes he were doing in this very moment.
He vows to make this as quick as possible. Knowing Izuku, it won’t be.
Hitoshi knocks. When there’s no answer, he knocks again. After a few more tries, he eventually caves and lets himself inside.
“Uh, hello?” he calls out dryly. His soaked shoes squeak jarringly through the silent apartment.
The first thing he notices is that the lights are low. Very low. He can’t see much around the corner of the entryway, but he spots a small stack of towels piled beside the door. Hitoshi rolls his eyes as he slips off his shoes and lets his soaked hoodie fall to the floor. He hates how thoughtful Katsuki is sometimes.
He speaks as he dries himself off. “If you’re thinking of ambushing me, I wouldn’t recommend it. I’ll…” Hitoshi considers the two opponents he’d be up against. “I don’t know, probably piss myself or something.” He grimaces as he’s suddenly reminded of the rain-soaked jeans currently clinging to his legs.
Oh well. I’ll be home soon, anyway.
He heads towards the living room.
“I know it’s past your bedtime, Bakugou, but if you’re actually asleep right now I swear I’m gon—”
And then he sees them.
He spots Katsuki first. He’s sitting under faint lamplight, leaning back in a plush lounge chair, wearing nothing but a pair of dark jeans. He’s the image of nonchalance, with one leg lazily crossed over the other. But it’s his eyes that give him away. The warm light shines off of them, making red irises sparkle with amusement. With heat.
One of Katsuki’s arms casually dangles from the armrest. There’s a silver chain dripping from between his fingers. Hitoshi’s gaze drags down its length, all the way to the red pendant glittering at its end.
And that’s when Hitoshi finally sees Izuku.
He’s kneeling on the floor at Katsuki’s feet, knees apart, and completely naked save for the black collar wrapped around his throat. Izuku doesn’t seem to register Hitoshi’s presence; his eyes remain fixed on the pendant dangling just above his head.
Oh.
Hitoshi lets out a ragged wheeze as his mind struggles to catch up. To take in the deliberately staged scene before him. Then Katsuki speaks, his tone mockingly casual and downright smug.
“The nerd told me somethin’ about you.”
Now Hitoshi may be in shock, but he isn’t stupid. He’s not entirely sure what that something could be, but he has a sneaking suspicion that it has nothing to do with work.
That’s about as far as his deduction skills get him because Katsuki starts slowly moving his fingers, causing the chain below to shimmer. Izuku lets out a breathy gasp when the light hits the red pendant just right, giving the effect that it’s shivering, nearly melting before his eyes. Izuku’s lashes flutter. He lets out a heavy exhale as his plush lips part in an adorable little ‘o’ shape, but he otherwise remains perfectly still at Katsuki’s feet.
Hitoshi clears his throat, dragging his gaze away from Izuku’s… everything. “Can’t blame him for talking about me. I’m pretty memorable,” he murmurs, glaring at Katsuki in warning.
And Katsuki fucking smiles back at him.
“He says you like to watch.”
Hitoshi feels his stomach drop through the floor. He wishes the rest of his body would follow suit. He lets out a tired groan.
“Well. Fuck.” Hitoshi drags a shaking hand through his hair as he mutters under his breath. “Way to kiss and tell... Little asshole.”
And, sure, it kind of feels wrong talking about Izuku like he isn’t in the room, but in Hitoshi’s defense it looks like Izuku is currently on another fucking planet. Or, more accurately—he realizes with an impending sense of dread—Izuku is currently in a trance.
The dread (laced with undeniable curiosity) just keeps building the longer Hitoshi stands there, frozen. Because he should’ve seen this coming. Somehow. He doesn’t know how. He shouldn’t have had to see this coming, but apparently his life has become a god damned circus—magic act and all.
“Oi, watch it. His little asshole,” Katsuki nods towards Izuku, “is all mine now. Sorry, loser.”
“Whatever.” Hitoshi rolls his eyes, desperately trying to regain some semblance of control over himself, over the entire hellscape of a situation he’s suddenly found himself in.
Katsuki, meanwhile, starts twisting his wrist in slow, languid movements. The chain follows suit, forcing the pendant below to swing back and forth in front of Izuku’s face. His eyes track it hungrily, and the helpless whimper he lets out in response goes straight to Hitoshi’s cock.
“Shhhhh,” Katsuki coos dotingly. Izuku visibly shivers at the sound. Then Katsuki uses his free hand to suddenly snap his fingers. Hitoshi nearly jumps in surprise. “Blank for me now,” Katsuki’s deep voice drawls.
Izuku’s eyes roll back into his head for only the briefest of moments before his gaze goes back to dutifully tracking the pendant’s movements. Back and forth, over and over. Eyes glassy and enthralled. Gone obediently blank, just as he was told to do.
“What—” Hitoshi wheezes.
“You never told me you’re a fuckin’ cuck,” Katsuki continues, as if the last few earth-shattering seconds hadn’t just happened.
“You never asked,” Hitoshi shrugs defensively, trying to feign casual confidence in the face of his ex, who apparently was now a sadistic exhibitionist. And a dom, no less. He huffs in frustration. “Also, watching doesn’t necessarily mean the same thi—”
“Mm,” Katsuki interrupts with a condescending nod, clearly amused.
And Hitoshi lets him have this round because, yeah, obviously voyeurism is hot. Getting cucked is also hot. Hitoshi is a simple man. Sue him.
“Well, I’m still not asking,” Katsuki continues. “I’m offering.”
And there it is.
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
Hitoshi is reeling. His eyes dart back and forth, up and down between Katsuki’s smarmy-ass smile, Izuku’s drooling lips and leaking cock, and then back up to Katsuki’s volatile gaze. He shakes his head, trying to free himself from the mesmerizing, wet-dream-in-the-making before him.
It’s not like he hadn’t occasionally fantasized about his two exes since their respective break-ups—they were all still close friends, after all—just… Not together. And never like this.
Hitoshi takes a steadying breath. “What’s with the sudden generosity?”
“Ha,” Katsuki barks. The movement causes the chain in his hand to sway in a larger arc; Izuku’s upper body subconsciously sways with it. “Not sure that’s what I’d call this…”
“Wh—”
“I said that you can watch, Mindfuck. That’s it.”
Katsuki visibly preens under Hitoshi’s disbelieving stare; pride and sadistic glee are practically radiating off of him. But Katsuki isn’t the only star of this exhibitionistic little display.
“And… what does Midoriya want?”
Katsuki shrugs. “He wants whatever I want.”
“That’s not—”
“Don’t believe me?” Katsuki’s smile drops into something stern, more determined. “Let him show you.”
Katsuki snaps.
“Drop.”
Izuku’s eyes close and he slumps forward, chin to chest. Katsuki tucks the necklace away in his pocket and reaches back down to stroke Izuku’s hair as he speaks.
“I want you to listen very carefully, baby. Because you know that you’ll feel so good, just so long as you keep listening to my voice.”
Hitoshi can only stand there and watch, downright fascinated by Katsuki’s smooth, commanding tone. It was a side of him that Hitoshi hadn’t ever really seen before. Definitely not in bed, at least.
“I’m gonna ask you to speak in a moment. And when I do, I want you to tell me what you’re thinking, absolutely anything that crosses your mind. Because I’m—” Katsuki pauses, his gaze flicking up to meet Hitoshi’s—“we’re here to give you what you want. But we can’t do that until you tell us. Hm, baby? Can you do that for me?”
Hitoshi watches Izuku’s head bob up and down, chin barely lifting from his chest, sluggish and subdued.
Katsuki snaps.
“Tilt.”
Izuku responds instantly; he slowly raises his chin and tilts his head back, putting his collar and half-lidded, docile gaze on display for the two men watching.
“Good boy,” Katsuki purrs. Izuku sighs blissfully. “I know it’s so hard for you to think right now. But you’re going to find that it’s easy to say anything that’s on your mind. To obey what I’ve asked of you.”
Hitoshi bites down on his cheek hard, until the taste of copper laces his tongue.
“You wanna tell us how you’re feeling,” Katsuki explains, his smooth rasp commanding the attention of the room. “You can’t hold it in anymore. Don’t wanna hold back.” He snaps again. “So tell us what you’re thinking, baby.”
“I uhhhmm…” Izuku’s dreamy, monotonous voice melts into the quiet room like honey. “Wanna be good. Wanna feel good and used, feelsss so so good. M’Kacchan’s to play with, wanna…” His voice trails off when Katsuki strokes his knuckles lovingly across Izuku’s cheek, down his jaw. “Wanna show ‘Toshi, make him feel good wannuummm—”
Another snap.
“Sleep.”
Izuku’s dick twitches, the glistening pool at its tip threatening to spill over as he visibly melts with a dreamy sigh.
Katsuki looks up at Hitoshi. His lopsided smirk shows off his canines. “Not bad, huh?” He continues to pet at Izuku’s hair, oozing with pride. “Got him all trained and everything.”
“You… might actually be insane,” Hitoshi murmurs. Internally, he’s waging a moral battle over whether or not he should be turned on by this. Not that he has much of a choice in the matter, based on the growing bulge in his stupid, tight jeans.
Katsuki snorts. “No shit. But he fuckin’ loves it. Gonna give him everything he’s ever wanted…”
Hitoshi shakes his head both in disbelief and grim acceptance, but freezes when Katsuki says:
“… Which, unfortunately, includes you.”
Hitoshi hisses an exhale through his teeth at those words. Even though he knows what’s happening right now—what’s being offered to him for no reason other than that Izuku and Katsuki apparently get off on this shit—he’s still having a hard time accepting it as reality.
“You heard him. Whose idea do you think this whole show was, anyway?” Katsuki asks, rolling his eyes.
Hitoshi downright gawks. “You’re… You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Katsuki flattens him with the most deadpan stare in his arsenal.
“You know I’m not.”
“I know,” Hitoshi sighs, wiping a tired hand down his face. “Shit, Bakugou… I know you’re not.”
Katsuki reaches up behind Izuku and buries his hand deep in the dark green, already sweat-matted hair at the back of his neck. Izuku’s head tilts up and his eyes roll back into his head. Hitoshi barely holds back a moan at the sight. It was hard to find a sub as responsive as Izuku. He hadn’t really found another one like him since Izuku. But even so, he’d never seen Izuku like this—so absolutely lost in blissful subservience to Katsuki.
The next time Katsuki speaks to Hitoshi, it’s with a hand cupped around the back of Izuku’s neck, his tone dripping with possessiveness. “So shut up and watch, or fuck off and leave. S’up to you.”
The room falls dangerously quiet.
Then, with a conceding sigh—not to mention a harsh throb of his dick—Hitoshi lets him self slump into the armchair across from Katsuki’s, accepting his fate. There’s a large couch off to his side, but the coffee table is the only thing actually separating Hitoshi from the scene before him.
Katsuki nods once, but it’s all he needs to convey the rules: stay there. Then he uncrosses his legs and leans down, pressing his lips against the curve of Izuku’s ear.
“Three… two… one. Up, bunny. Completely awake for me now.”
Hitoshi watches Izuku’s demeanour transform before his eyes. He straightens up, rolling his shoulders as he arches his back in a small stretch. He blinks a few times in succession; his gaze is clearer, but it’s far from back to normal. Izuku licks at some of the drool still clinging to his lower lip as he bats his eyelashes, all demure and downright sinful.
“Hi, ‘Toshi,” he murmurs, voice dripping with sex.
Hitoshi thought he’d done a decent job at ignoring it the first time, but hearing that nickname again—the one Izuku used to call him back when they were fooling around—feels like a sucker punch to the gut. He nearly chokes on his spit at the unexpected attention.
“You are a nightmare,” Hitoshi groans.
Izuku smiles serenely but doesn’t reply, looking up at Katsuki instead. Hitoshi can see the feigned innocence in Izuku’s needy little pout, so he can’t help but sympathize with Katsuki when he returns the look with a knowing glare.
“Oi,” Katsuki warns. “He’s only here to watch, bunny.”
Izuku lets out a petulant little huff, but doesn’t argue. He slides his sultry gaze back to Hitoshi, looking him up and down. There’s a look in Izuku’s eyes that Hitoshi can’t quite place—he’s obviously in a different headspace right now, but that isn’t necessarily it. Whatever it is makes Hitoshi feel like he is the one being watched tonight.
He couldn’t tear his gaze away if he tried.
Katsuki roughly pats at his own thigh, shifting the tension in the room. “C’mon, want you up here. Take your time and go slow.”
Izuku perks up at the order. “Yes, Sir.”
When he finishes stretching out his legs and finally straddles Katsuki’s lap, Izuku’s ass is facing Hitoshi, allowing him full view of the plug nestled between his freckled cheeks.
“Gonna be good for me tonight, baby? Put on a show for our cucky little creep over here?” Katsuki asks, reaching down and palming at Izuku’s ass, spreading his cheeks just enough to make Hitoshi’s mouth water.
Hitoshi could say that he didn’t appreciate the humiliating shout-out, but he’d be lying.
Izuku nuzzles at Katsuki’s neck, practically purring when he speaks. “Of course. M’always good for Kacchan.” He leans in and takes Katsuki’s lips in a dirty, passionate kiss that leaves them both groaning.
One of Hitoshi’s hands twitches, nearly reaching between his legs. He clenches them into fists at his side instead.
“Then show me what you can do,” Katsuki whispers as he reaches around to slowly pump the plug in and out of Izuku’s ass before pulling it out entirely.
“Ah, ahh!” Izuku whimpers, trying fruitlessly to thrust back against the now absent plug. Katsuki sets it down and smacks at Izuku’s ass. The sound rings through the apartment and nearly punches the air out of Hitoshi’s chest.
“Turn around for me,” Katsuki commands. Izuku obeys instantly, clambering off Katsuki’s lap. As he does, Katsuki unbuttons his jeans and tucks his briefs under his balls, allowing Hitoshi an eyeful of that hard, gorgeous cock for a few seconds before Izuku sits back down atop Katsuki’s thighs.
Katsuki leans back and spreads both their legs lewdly. Izuku relaxes back into Katsuki’s chest, and Hitoshi can see Izuku grinding back against him from where he sits.
“Mm, good boy. Already so eager for me,” Katsuki says. “You remember what happens when there’s cock inside you, yeah?”
He wraps a bulging arm around Izuku’s torso and raises him up with apparently zero effort. He lines himself up with Izuku’s hole.
“Stay still,” he growls. Then he lets gravity do the rest.
Izuku bottoms out on his cock in record time. He lets out a guttural, slutty moan but remains motionless with his head tipped back. Hitoshi tries not to pay attention to the increasing tightness in his own pants.
“I asked you a question, Deku.”
Izuku doesn’t respond, too stuffed full of cock to answer, so Katsuki snaps his fingers.
“C-cock in, mind offfff…” Izuku moans, his voice completely raw and fucked out.
Hitoshi covers his mouth, squeezing his jaw hard enough to ache.
“Again.”
A snap.
“Cock in mmmind off…”
“Repeat.”
He snaps again.
And Izuku obeys. He repeats his mantra mindlessly, droning on and on, but the look in his eyes doesn’t reveal a single glimmer of awareness of what he’s doing. His hips stutter and shake, but Katsuki keeps his iron grip firmly on Izuku’s hips, forcing him still. Then he leans forward and whispers in Izuku’s ear.
“Quiet.”
Izuku obeys instantly.
Words tumble out of Hitoshi’s mouth before he can catch himself. “It’s… It’s like you made a fucking off switch for him.”
Katsuki chuckles darkly. “Think I’ve earned it after all these years.” He starts stroking up and down Izuku’s chest slowly, possessively. Hitoshi’s eyes track the motion. “Doesn’t always stop the fuckin’ muttering though. But that’s hot too. Let’s show him, baby,” Katsuki coos, lightly wrapping his hand around Izuku’s neck, sliding it up to his jaw. He sways Izuku’s head back and forth a few times before guiding his chin up until his glassy eyes point directly at Hitoshi. “Wanna hear you again. Talk to me,” Katsuki whispers.
Izuku’s blank gaze is unchanging, but he takes a fluttery, deep breath in and speaks. “Soooo good Master wanna cum on Master’s cock, wanna obey pleaaaaseee. Please, please so full pleeaseee…”
Izuku continues to mindlessly beg, but Katsuki starts to talk over him, looking right at Hitoshi.
“Y’know, it’s funny that you mentioned an off switch…”
Hitoshi says nothing, only able to gulp in anticipation.
Katsuki reaches around and brings a finger in front of Izuku’s face, between his eyes. Izuku’s dreamy stare latches onto it instantly. Katsuki holds Hitoshi’s gaze as he taps the space between Izuku’s brows.
“Mind off.”
Izuku’s voice trails off. He goes completely still, staring straight ahead, eyes unfocused. Unseeing.
“That’s it. Go nice and blank for me now. So mindless. Drained. Empty. Nothing for me. So perfect like this.”
Katsuki raises Izuku’s hips and grinds them back down hard. Izuku doesn’t visibly respond to the sensation, just sinks even further down on the cock buried deep inside him. Completely mindless.
“What are you?” Katsuki asks.
“Master’s fucktoy,” Izuku replies instantly, his voice now a vacant monotone. He continues to stare straight ahead, unmoving. Just warming Katsuki’s cock like he was made for it.
Hitoshi feels his jaw drop, and Katsuki’s smile turns downright sadistic.
He lifts Izuku off his cock and stands them both up in one fluid motion. Katsuki’s bulging muscles ripple as he roughly grabs Izuku’s wrists and bends him over until his hands reach the coffee table, the one separating them from Hitoshi. His scarred hands are splayed out on the table, ass in the air, with his legs spread. His reddened, leaking cock bobs pathetically between them. Izuku’s stare remains docile and blank.
“It feels good, y’know,” Katsuki explains to Hitoshi. He slowly slides off his pants while he speaks. “To show him off like this.”
He’s fully naked now, looming over the perfect sub posed before him. He grips his cock and steps up to Izuku, smacking it wetly against his entrance. His other hand pets up and down Izuku’s spine, toys at the collar around his neck and tugs. A sweet little choking noise escapes Izuku’s lips. Then Katsuki lets go and returns to palming at Izuku’s ass.
“Feels even better knowing that you’re not gonna do shit about it.”
Hitoshi gives Katsuki an unimpressed stare, biting back a reply. There’s something about Katsuki using that tone that gnaws at him, infuriates him.
Katsuki pushes inside Izuku, throwing his head back at the sensation. Izuku, meanwhile, lets himself be mindlessly used. A string of drool slips past his parted lips.
“Bet you’re so fucking desperate to touch what’s mine,” Katsuki growls, panting as he pumps in and out of Izuku at an increasing pace. “But you’re just gonna sit there and take it, aren’t ya?”
Hitoshi’s glare turns colder as Katsuki’s defiance sets his blood alight. It takes him back to a time when Hitoshi would fight back, take control, and tear down the man before him until he’d break.
Until he’d submit.
Alarm bells go off in Hitoshi’s head, screaming THAT’S YOUR EX—ABORT MISSION. He needs to stop this. Walk away. Do literally anything to slow things down and take the attention off him. But Katsuki just keeps running his mouth, fucking into Izuku faster and faster as he speaks.
“Pathetic.”
Hitoshi’s fists clench tighter.
“That’s right,” Katsuki groans, tucking his chin as he almost loses himself in ecstasy. When he raises his head, his gaze is equal parts cruel and downright thrilled.
“How does it feel to know that I can do it better than you?”
He doesn’t have to say the rest—Hitoshi already knows what he’s implying. He’s talking about his quirk.
Hitoshi sees red.
“Bakugou…”
Katsuki starts fucking into Izuku even faster.
“Can’t take it, can ya?”
“Shut up,” Hitoshi warns threateningly.
“What, Mindfreak? Am I wrong? You gonna—?”
“Enough.”
Katsuki’s mouth snaps shut. He comes to a complete stop, blinking slowly. And when his eyes open, his irises are glowing a deep shade of purple.
Hitoshi jumps up and stumbles back, releasing the quirk’s hold on Katsuki as soon as he realizes what he’s done. Katsuki comes back to awareness with a long, choked-out gasp.
“Shit!” Hitoshi hisses, taking another step back. He knows he can’t run, not after the incredibly fucked-up thing he just pulled. So he puts his hands up in surrender and accepts whatever hellfire is coming for him.
Katsuki pitches forward, still trying to catch his breath. He’s visibly shaking as he places his palms flat on Izuku’s back, kneading into the muscles there, almost as if he’s trying to ground himself. When he finally raises his head and looks at Hitoshi, his red eyes are burning.
But Hitoshi recognizes that look. It’s not fury.
“Again.”
…
“Uh, pardon?” Hitoshi splutters, eyebrows shooting up in alarm.
Katsuki lets out a dark, disbelieving laugh. His large hands drag down Izuku’s pliant back and settle on the dips of his waist. He slips out of Izuku, slowly, clearly trying not to startle him. Izuku sighs and melts forward until his knees sink to the ground and he rests his arms and head upon the low table. Hitoshi can hear the stream of cum squelch out of him, can see it pour down his legs.
“I said…” Katsuki pants. “Do. It. Again.”
And for about the eighteenth time that night, Hitoshi’s brain completely short-circuits. He stares at Katsuki’s flushed face, the spots of cum dotting the hardwood floor. And then he realizes what just happened.
I did that.
The realization comes with a surge of shock and pride. Hitoshi doesn’t dare move.
“Are you sure?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper, too afraid to break the spell that’s fallen over the room.
Katsuki has the audacity to roll his eyes at him as if he were personally offended.
“Katsuki…” Hitoshi warns.
There’s a sharp inhale, and Hitoshi gets the distinct pleasure of watching Katsuki’s pupils dilate in real time. Katsuki nods once.
He’s serious. And holy shit he’s eager.
Hitoshi looks up in a silent prayer for some force of nature to strike him down before he can cross this line. But the hunger is eating him alive at the sight of Katsuki’s stubborn longing, at Izuku’s perfect obedience. So he lets out a long, shaking exhale as he makes himself a promise: if he’s doing this, he’s going to do it right.
“Tell me,” Hitoshi says, his sudden confidence surprising even himself.
Katsuki’s eyes widen in indignance, but he clearly bites back whatever objection was about to come out of his mouth. Instead, he licks his lips and lets his gaze go molten.
“Make me.”
And just like that, Katsuki’s eyes glow purple. Then he’s under.
Hitoshi is going to unpack all this later. He’ll go to therapy, really talk this one out. Explain to a professional how he nearly came at the sight of these two feral, absolutely unhinged idiots submitting before him. One of whom at the mercy of his fucking quirk, no less. But for now, he gives in and lets himself submit to his desires.
“Alright, you win,” Hitoshi’s deep voice rumbles. He takes a step forward. “You’re mine now. Is that what you wanted?”
“Yes,” Katsuki whispers.
Hitoshi nearly chokes. He adds that to the list of things to unpack later.
“On your knees.”
He watches Katsuki’s muscles tense and spasm as he tries to resist the command. Hitoshi makes sure to keep the quirk’s hold moderate—it’ll keep Katsuki quiet, but it’s still light enough that he can break out of it if he really tried. Hitoshi can feel the tug of his half-hearted resistance, but only a few more seconds of fruitless struggling go by before Katsuki caves, his irises pulsing bright purple. He takes a step away from Izuku and drops to his knees. His eyes never leave Hitoshi’s.
It must have been a long time since someone took control for him…
Hitoshi’s chest swells with something unnamed. He doesn’t try to hide his smile.
“Now wake him up, Kitty Kat.”
When Katsuki speaks, his voice drips with both arousal and annoyance.
“Izuku.” Katsuki snaps his fingers. “Awake.”
Izuku comes back to awareness with a gasp, finally reacting to the scene before him. His knees nearly give out when he tries to stand, but he manages to sit himself down atop the coffee table. He’s panting, eyes frantically darting between Katsuki and Hitoshi.
“Wha— Did that…?” His jaw drops as he stares at Katsuki, who remains on his knees before Hitoshi. “Shit, holy shit. That really happened.”
“You okay?” Hitoshi whispers.
“Kacchan, oh my g—” Izuku chokes on a moan when he finally looks at Katsuki’s eyes. He reaches out and cups Katsuki’s cheek, runs his hands through his hair lovingly. “‘Toshi, he… He wanted this,” he whispers in amazement at the realization.
Hitoshi shoves his hands in his pockets and takes a few more steps forward until he’s standing before the couple. “He never told you about us, did he?”
Katsuki’s purple gaze flares in defiance but he remains quiet, obediently awaiting his next command.
“I used to tame this brat. Or try to, anyway.”
Not that they’d ever been remotely as kinky as this.
“Wow…” Izuku sighs. He continues to pet at Katsuki’s hair. Hitoshi resists the urge to do the same. “And you never used your quirk on him before?”
Hitoshi clears his throat and looks away. “No, not like that. It, uh, that wasn’t a thing for me back then.”
Or ever.
“Can we… Can we play with him, ‘Toshi?” Izuku asks, practically sparkling with gratitude and excitement. He can’t seem to keep his hands off Katsuki, but the look in the blonde’s purple-tinged eyes reveals that he doesn’t mind in the slightest.
“Depends,” Hitoshi shrugs. “Bakug—” Well, might as well lean into the role, for old time’s sake. “What do you want, Kat?”
Hitoshi can feel Katsuki’s stubborn resistance flare up once more. So he tightens the quirk’s hold, just a bit, until Katsuki can’t hold back his reply.
“Want to play with Deku. Want you to make me. Tell me how to do it.”
Izuku hums in delight. He reaches forward and drapes his arms around Katsuki’s neck.
“Please, please play with us, ‘Toshi.”
Hitoshi absolutely melts. He leans in until he’s just above eye level with Katsuki. “You gonna share him with me tonight?”
“Yes,” Katsuki admits with a nod.
Hitoshi reaches out and tucks a green curl behind Izuku’s ear.
“And you want that too, baby?”
Izuku’s lashes flutter. “Mmm yes please.”
Hitoshi leans over and grabs a clean towel from the couch. He holds it out to Katsuki.
“Clean him up. Then we can play.”
Katsuki takes the towel and gets to work wiping down Izuku’s thighs and ass. It’s something that Katsuki would’ve done anyway, but watching Izuku’s feral glee at the sight of Katsuki’s quiet obedience is worth it. When he’s done, Hitoshi takes the towel and tosses it aside. He holds out a hand to Izuku and feels satisfaction pool in his gut when he nuzzles into it, letting Hitoshi pet his cheek dotingly.
“Take him to the bedroom for me. Katsuki, follow.”
The two get up and Izuku brushes a hand across Hitoshi’s chest as he passes. He leads a quiet Katsuki down the hallway, practically bouncing with excitement as he goes. Hitoshi takes one more deep breath to brace himself before he follows.
He stops in the doorway to the room. “On the bed, both of you. Kiss each other.”
Izuku, clearly taking advantage of the momentary control he has, tosses Katsuki onto the bed and pounces. The two kiss passionately, a naked tangle of scarred and freckled limbs.
Hitoshi peels off his shirt. He starts undoing his jeans. “Limits?”
Izuku leans up to look at Hitoshi, clearly basking in the attention as Katsuki dutifully laves at his neck, both of them completely at ease. “It’s not like they’ve changed,” Izuku giggles, rolling his eyes.
Yeah, okay. So he already knows both of their limits—what they like, what they’re good at. Great. Fantastic. Hitoshi is torn between bashing his head against a wall or fucking them both senseless.
“Kat?” he presses, desperately trying to get these two problematic dipshits to negotiate with him for ten freaking seconds.
Hitoshi releases the quirk entirely and Katsuki groans in frustration, leaning down to bite at one of Izuku’s nipples as he speaks. “Use us. We’ll kill you if you try anything we don’t like,” he mutters.
Izuku wiggles and beams in excitement, confirming the truth behind Katsuki’s threat.
And that’s that.
Hitoshi, now blissfully free of his rain-drenched jeans and clad in only his underwear, plants his hands on the end of the bed and leans in, ready to watch the action unfold. At least for a little while.
“Katsuki.” He watches Katsuki’s movements slow to a stop as he tightens the quirk’s hold on his mind. “I want you to sit up and get Izuku deep in trance. Make him into a perfect little toy for us to play with. Think you can do that for me?”
Katsuki moans against Izuku’s mouth as their lips part, a string of saliva connecting them. “Yeah,” he monotones, pushing himself up until the two of them are seated on the bed, legs tangled as they face each other.
Izuku looks between Katsuki and Hitoshi, thrumming with anticipation. Hitoshi nods at Katsuki.
“Pay attention, baby,” he says sternly.
Izuku snaps his gaze to Katsuki, watching his purple-rimmed eyes with rapt attention. Katsuki cups Izuku’s head in his hands, strong thumbs stroking at his jaw as he speaks with a deep, serene voice.
“Just my eyes, okay? You can do that. Just focus on me, you don’t need to look anywhere else. Don’t even have to think about it anymore, you just listen. And it feels so good, doesn’t it?”
He tilts Izuku’s head in slow, sensual circles.
“So drop.”
Izuku’s eyes go hazy.
“… And back up for me. Awake.”
Katsuki doesn’t stop guiding Izuku’s movements while he struggles to come back to awareness. Hitoshi marvels at how much it this affects Izuku: little sighs keep escaping his mouth, while his eyes flutter helplessly as he tries to keep them open.
“Drop.”
Izuku slumps in Katsuki’s hold.
“Awake.”
Izuku lets out the most tragic little whimper Hitoshi’s ever heard. He wants to swallow him whole.
“So hard to stay awake now, isn’t it? So relax, love. Let me take control. Go empty. Blank.”
Katsuki leans in and brushes their lips together, whispering against his mouth.
“Sleep for me now.”
Izuku’s eyes finally roll back and close.
Hitoshi shakes his head in disbelief at the raw intimacy before him. He lets them kiss quietly for awhile, all of them basking in the dreamy haze that’s fallen over the room.
Then he slowly crawls up onto the bed behind Katsuki.
“Katsuki,” he whispers, silently preening at the shiver that runs down Katsuki’s back at the sound of his voice. “Do you want me to touch you?”
“I want you to touch me,” he whispers, his voice already wrecked.
Hitoshi can’t help but moan as he licks and kisses at Katsuki’s neck, reveling in the taste of his sticky-sweet skin. “Play with his mouth,” he whispers, nipping at Katsuki’s ear.
Katsuki grabs Izuku’s jaw firmly. “Let me see that pretty tongue,” he orders.
Izuku lets his tongue loll out. His half-lidded eyes stay on Katsuki’s.
“Perfect,” Hitoshi rumbles over Katsuki’s shoulder. “So ready to be used.”
Hitoshi wraps a hand loosely around Katsuki’s neck as he continues to kiss and lick and bite. Katsuki, meanwhile, strokes his fingers along Izuku’s tongue, petting at the inside of his cheeks and pushing back further and further until Izuku’s choking and moaning in bliss. When he pulls his hand out and traces his spit-soaked fingers along the ‘o’ of his lips, Izuku just shivers, eyes hazy yet enthralled.
“Want him to suck on you, yeah? C’mon, keep him busy for me,” Hitoshi adds. Katsuki nods vacantly.
“Suck, baby,” he orders.
And Izuku does. He sucks and moans on Katsuki’s fingers like it’s his fucking day job.
If there’s one thing Hitoshi recalls about Izuku, it’s his rampant oral fixation. And by the looks of it, Katsuki is no better off. With any luck, it’ll put both of them in the perfect headspace for what he wants them to do next.
“Kat, you’re going to order our little toy here to suck me off. But first, I want you to show him how it’s done. I want him to watch.”
A little-known fact about Katsuki Bakugou is that he is a fucking menace when it comes to giving head. He’s exceptionally good at it—not unlike nearly everything else he does—but the best part is that he can be a downright slut about it if you get him in the right headspace. Luckily for Hitoshi, that last part wasn’t going to be a problem tonight.
Katsuki pulls away from Izuku with some reluctance, leaving the other leaning up against the headboard and mindlessly panting. Hitoshi leans back, spreading his legs wide while Katsuki crawls over to him. Katsuki reaches to pull down his underwear but Hitoshi holds up a hand to stop him.
“No.”
Katsuki waits, glowing eyes locked on Hitoshi’s.
“Just like this,” he explains, stroking his length overtop his gray boxer briefs. “Get it nice and wet for him. Show us how good you can be.”
Katsuki’s shudder of defiance makes Hitoshi’s mouth water. But, as expected, he rises to the occasion; with one final, hazy-eyed glare, Katsuki leans down and starts to lick at Hitoshi’s clothed cock.
The way he lazily drags his flattened tongue from balls to tip is a mind-numbing, downright enthralling sight. He lets himself get sloppy, drooling and moaning and lapping at Hitoshi’s underwear like it’s a performance. Because, in the end, Katsuki knows how much power his mouth holds over everyone in the room, and this slutty little show of feigned obedience is no exception. Hitoshi’s quirk couldn’t change that if he tried—it’s easily one of the most infuriatingly attractive things about him.
Hitoshi looks over at Izuku. He’s palming at himself, helplessly entranced by the sight before him, and clearly trying to hold himself back despite his state of trance. So Hitoshi motions him over.
“C’mere, baby. Come join him.”
Izuku gasps. He crawls forward, shivering as he goes. Hitoshi pulls out his cock in time for his arrival and a symphony of groans and sighs fill the room when tongues and lips meet skin.
Thus, Hitoshi finds himself in just about the last position he expected to be at the beginning of the night: looking down at Japan’s two top heroes, currently side by side, nestled between his legs and enthusiastically worshipping his cock.
“Katsuki, stop. Sit up,” Hitoshi groans, squeezing the base of his dick to stave off his rapidly approaching orgasm.
Katsuki does as he’s told. He’s panting, and Hitoshi can feel a tug of desperation at the edges of his quirk’s control. When he looks down at Katsuki’s bobbing cock, he understands why. He’s close.
“Get him on his knees and tease his ass with your cock.”
Katsuki grabs Izuku by the waist and roughly hauls him backwards until he can rock against him. The two of them moan loudly, both on the edge and helplessly lost in their own arousal.
Hitoshi sits up. “You’ve been so good for us tonight, pet,” he coos, stroking Izuku’s hair. “So let us make you feel good, too.” He grabs his cock and places it in front of Izuku’s wide, hungry eyes. “Put my cock in your mouth, baby.”
Izuku’s whimper melts into a throaty moan as he takes Hitoshi so deep that he hits the back of his throat. His eyes go hazy and absolutely cockdrunk as he chokes around Hitoshi’s length.
A shudder tears through Hitoshi’s entire body at the feeling of Izuku’s wet-hot mouth wrapped around him, but he pulls himself together before he hits the edge. He snaps his gaze up to Katsuki.
“Fuck him.”
Katsuki wastes no time. He pushes into a hole that’s already gaping and slick with cum from earlier. Then Hitoshi fully releases his quirk and Katsuki starts absolutely railing into Izuku with a ferocity he’d never seen from him before.
“Fuuuuuck, Hitoshi! Shit holy shit it’s so good,” Katsuki babbles, his hips stuttering and pace erratic as he chases his pleasure.
Katsuki keeps fucking into Izuku senselessly, glistening in sweat with eyes that burn with fire and bloodlust, victorious. Below him, Izuku takes it from both ends, moaning and squelching around their cocks and arching in perfect, mindless bliss.
When Izuku sucks at the tip of his dick before sliding all the way down to the base, hollowing out his cheeks and sucking hard, Hitoshi sees white.
“Cum, c’mon! Make him cum,” he groans, pumping Izuku’s throat full as his orgasm comes crashing down on him.
Katsuki fucks him even faster. Then he flashes a dangerous smile at Hitoshi and snaps his fingers.
“Deku, cum.”
Izuku screams around Hitoshi’s cock. Barely ten seconds later, Katsuki’s loud groans fill the room as he tips over the edge, dragging out Izuku’s orgasm until he’s absolutely sobbing.
When Hitoshi regains sentience a few minutes later, they’re all piled in a heap, breaths slowed and subdued.
“Well, uh. Huh,” Hitoshi attempts.
“No,” Katsuki groans, his face buried in Izuku’s chest. “Don’t fuckin’ start with that.”
“Alright…”
“Shhh,” Izuku scolds half-heartedly from where he’s sprawled on his back in the middle of the pile, one hand in Katsuki’s hair and the other rubbing at Hitoshi’s chest. “Loud.”
Hitoshi can’t help but let out a quiet chuckle. He reaches up and rests his hand on Izuku’s; Izuku laces their fingers together. From the corner of his eye, he can see Katsuki lean up to brush away the last few tears that trail down Izuku’s cheeks.
“It’s a tomorrow problem,” Izuku adds with a yawn, nuzzling into Katsuki’s touch.
“Sounds good to me,” Hitoshi sighs. He lets his eyes close and feels himself start to drift.
And then a pillow collides with his face. By the sound of Izuku’s groan, he must have been hit too.
“Up. You’re both filthy.”
“Kacchan nooo,” Izuku whines, even though Hitoshi can feel the bed dip as he slowly gets up with Katsuki’s help.
Hitoshi smiles to himself, face full of pillow.
Well, tonight could’ve gone worse.
“GET YOUR GROSS ASS OUT OF MY BED, MINDFUCK!”
...