Archive of Our Own ^beta

Something that continues to amaze Shouto despite being used to it is Katsuki’s sheer skill in anything.

He’s not surprised in finding out how well Katsuki can cook, or that he can knit, or that he can wear a couple of stiletto heels with no problem. Don’t get him wrong; being unsurprised has nothing to do with his awe, which he has in full capacity, because they don’t equate to each other in his vocabulary. He’s not surprised because it’s just like Katsuki to do well in whatever he chooses to do just because it’s in his power to do so.

He’s not surprised at the variety of things Katsuki can do, but he is awed at the extent of it.

Like with sex.

That one was something he was neutral about at first, what with the act itself not being something he’d actively considered for himself before, and then—

Katsuki happened. Katsuki barged into his room the same way he initially barged into his life and into his heart and told him that they’d be having sex; Shouto didn’t see Katsuki as the type to force anything Shouto didn’t really want to do, so he’d agreed to it thinking that it would be at least another new experience for him to try.

The experience wasn’t a try, really.

A try implied an attempt, which signified a half-hearted dive into an intimate act. It implied uncertainty. It implied that neither of them knew what they were doing, when Katsuki certainly did.

Sex, before his experience with Katsuki, was the vague idea of a man and a woman conducting intimate deeds to create a child. Pleasure was implicit, given how people liked talking about it. The boys his age, even in their class when they were students, certainly liked whispering about it when they weren’t in the presence of the girls— which seemed strange to him, seeing as the act wasn’t for men alone. It wasn’t like women couldn’t talk about it too.

Katsuki made him realize just how minimal his knowledge was on the topic, given everything he’d prepared.

He’d never even seen a butt plug until Katsuki popped one out of his ass unprompted that first time they had sex, citing it as preparation. He didn’t know that there were a multitude of tools to assist in ensuring greater pleasure, and that there was so much preparation at all prior to the act itself.

Katsuki also had to teach him how to control his quirk in flagrante delicto, which should have dampened the experience, up until Katsuki took the reins again to remind him that:

“We’re doing this right the first time or not at all, Shouto, and I’m not planning on stopping unless you tell me to go.”

As if Shouto could say no, as if Shouto would ever want to say no, when Katsuki had bared so much already. Shouto didn’t like the idea of stopping either, more so when Katsuki seemed determined to make the experience a good one for him.

He had thought hunger only applied to food and vengeance, but that experience found him thinking differently after.

“Oi.”

Shouto snaps back into focus at Katsuki’s voice. The riding crop tipping his chin up hastens that return to reality, reminding him of the exact problem that had him zoning out in the first place.

His gaze meets Katsuki’s own as he lets his head follow the crop, though his gaze shakes when he catches glimpses of what Katsuki’s wearing. It had been his request, owing to Katsuki calling his taste too tame and “vanilla” the first time he asked what he wanted out of sex. He’d thought this (this, being BDSM) was the kind of thing Katsuki would want. It’s putting him in a place of power (literally, he would be the Dominant, as Shouto learned from his research), and the tools involved seemed to sit right outside the “vanilla” range Katsuki assumed (and found distasteful) out of him.

But he didn’t quite think Katsuki would do…this.

He’d mentioned the leather get-up or a uniform because that was something he’d seen from his short research into BDSM. It seemed to be kinky enough, at least, that it could make things exciting in a way that Katsuki seemed to like.

Then Katsuki had taken his request to the extreme end and worn something so scant in leather that he may as well be naked, citing his reason as, “We’re having sex anyway, why would I make it difficult for myself by wearing too much?”

It was logical. It made sense. It was practical, and Shouto’s never had a problem seeing Katsuki clothed or naked since they’ve shared locker rooms as students before, and they’ve had sex already. Shouto had even seen the clothing samples for Dominants recommended online and figured they’d do well enough, even if it didn’t make sense for him at first how people thought so much, or so little, tight leather could change how sexy a person could look.

Katsuki wearing it made all the difference. Katsuki looking so comfortable in it, at home in it, made all the difference. That he could slip into such small leather shorts and a(n impractical, but pretty) top that hid only the bare minimum of his chest, plus a harness that hugged him tight around the waist and upper thighs, and act like this was perfectly normal while toting a riding crop made it unbearably sexual in a way Shouto wouldn’t have understood had it been years before.

He’s starting to wonder if this might be a problem, that Katsuki could elicit such new and confusing emotions out of him.

(Finding someone so beautiful shouldn’t be this painful, but it is.)

Even the concept of BDSM itself didn’t hold as much personal appeal to Shouto when he’d stumbled upon it in his search for things to make sex interesting. It just seemed to be the kind of different that might hold Katsuki’s interest, something that could prove to be worth a shot at the very least. Shouto had never wanted for sex before; he couldn’t help being unable to provide answers when Katsuki had asked him if he wanted to try anything different in particular.

Just being able to enjoy having sex with Katsuki had been enough for him. There wasn’t anything really special, or different, that he could ask for when whatever Katsuki wanted always made him feel good.

But Katsuki didn’t seem to think it was fair that he only did whatever he wanted, even if he didn’t verbalize that thought himself. Shouto’s gotten better at reading him over time, however; he understood the barely hidden disappointment on Katsuki’s face for what it was, and decided to take action.

He just didn’t think the action he’d chosen to take would have made him feel so conflicted in a way he’d never expect of himself.

“I know I said eyes on me, but I thought you’d be smart enough to realize that meant me, and not my dick,” Katsuki says, bringing him back to attention as he slides his riding crop up Shouto’s jaw, an oddly gentle caress from a thing that’s intended to cause pain. “Eyes up here, Todoroki.”

Shouto swallows through the dryness in his throat, before nodding. “Sorry,” he croaks out.

Katsuki hums. “Color?”

“Green…”

Katsuki spreads his legs wider, inevitably drawing Shouto’s attention downwards until he realizes what he’s doing and snaps his gaze back up.

A raised brow meets his gaze. Katsuki asks, “What was that?”

“Green,” he says louder, hoping his voice isn’t trembling. “I’ll do better.”

“We don’t deal with promises here,” Katsuki says, lightly tapping his riding crop against Shouto’s shoulder. “Give me a number.” He pauses when Shouto gives him a confused look, then adds, “For how many times I’ll whip you.”

“O-oh.” He swallows again, considering, before saying, “Ten?”

“S’that a question, or an answer?”

“Ten,” Shouto repeats more firmly, straightening up from where he’s on his knees before Katsuki.

“Greedy bastard,” Katsuki says, raised eyebrow dropping into a seemingly bored expression as he raises his crop to tap it against his shoulder. “You get five.”

Shouto feels something welling up in his chest at the insult covering up his concern; Shouto had likely overestimated what Katsuki felt was a decent number of whips for a first-timer. It’s a strange situation, how he’s allowing Katsuki to hurt him physically yet he feels cared for, even more so with the knowledge that Katsuki had no experience with BDSM prior his asking for it.

He’s doing his best just for him, because Shouto asked for it. Because Shouto wants it, and Katsuki wants it to be good for him.

“Crawl to me,” Katsuki commands. “Eyes down until I say so.”

(He’s already far too good, it’s not even fair anymore.)

Shouto does as ordered, crawling forward on his hands and knees to where Katsuki is seated on the edge of their bed. He stops once Katsuki’s (stiletto heel-clad) feet are in view, waiting, before raising his head when Katsuki orders for it.

“Here I thought I’d only keep the crop for aesthetic purposes,” Katsuki muses, looking down his nose at him, before sighing. The disappointment he’s playing at comes in contrast with his hand as it comes forward, cupping his cheek and tilting his head back as he says, “Did you want me to punish you, hm? You talked about wanting this and I guessed that you were just trying to appease me,” his hand slides up to tug Shouto’s hair back, pulling a surprised noise out of him, “but did you actually want to be on your knees for me?”

Fuck.

“I-I…”

“On your knees, cross your arms over your back,” Katsuki orders.

Shouto barely stifles the strangled noise that escapes him when Katsuki abruptly releases his hair, though he immediately positions himself as Katsuki had asked.

“Look at you,” Katsuki murmurs, amusement gleaming in red irises as he leans back to eye him from head to knees. He tips his crop down and teases at Shouto’s cock through his boxers, unmindful for the jolt and hiss it gets him in response. “You’re so hard and I haven’t even done anything yet. Tell me, d’you like the idea of me hurting you?”

Shouto breathes in through his nose, before shaking his head. He notices, for as much as Katsuki tries to hide it, the way his answer makes his shoulders ease from that blink-and-you-miss-it tension. Because for all that they’d talked this through, discussed their hard limits and the things they were willing to try beforehand, Katsuki had never confessed to personally wanting to cause him pain.

He’d allowed it because Shouto considered it. And it was this that Shouto was learning from, along with all their other experiences together; for all that he found it difficult to read the air sometimes, he had to learn through Katsuki, because he often spoke directly until the moments he didn’t. Those times where he refrained from speaking his mind tended to be times that proved to be more crucial to him, to them, and Shouto had to adjust. He would have likely lived the rest of his life trying to blindly grasp at what people could mean between the lines, what things were left unspoken, if not for the circumstances in Katsuki’s tendency to isolate himself in moments of vulnerability.

Shouto knows him better than Katsuki may want to admit, and he’s happy with that.

Katsuki huffs out a laugh at his non-verbal answer, playing well at unaffectedness. “No?” he asks.

“It’s not you hurting me,” he answers, meeting Katsuki’s gaze. “It’s that I can trust you to do whatever you want with me, because you know me better than I know myself at times. I know you’ll only give me what you know I can handle.”

“A little too emotional for a boner, you perv,” Katsuki says, not breaking character as he replaces the crop on Shouto’s cock with the tip of his boot-covered foot. Shouto chokes back a moan at that, earning him a wide grin from Katsuki in turn. “That ain’t it and you know it.”

“You’re incredibly beautiful,” spills out of his mouth, his face warm with embarrassment as he struggles not to squirm at Katsuki’s nudging foot. “Just the sight of you arouses me,” he blurts out in addition, embarrassment simmering into internal pleasure at the wide-eyed look he gets for his honesty.

“Pervert,” Katsuki spits out, a hint of pink on his cheeks as nudges harder at Shouto’s groin to the point of slight pain. “You really are a freak under all the poker faces, huh? I knew you couldn’t be that boring.”

He clenches his jaw at the painful prodding, though he manages to meet Katsuki’s eyes still when he says, “You make me want things I never thought I’d ever want.”

“What the hell,” Katsuki blurts out, before wrinkling his nose at his break in character. “Ugh.”

Shouto smiles at him, to which Katsuki rolls his eyes.

“Crawl onto the bed, if you touch me we’re done,” Katsuki orders and pulls his foot away, donning a frown again while he taps his crop onto the space behind him.

“Yes,” he answers, angling his body to the right as he crawls forward and up, making sure to avoid contact with Katsuki’s thighs as he moves to settle himself on his hands and knees behind him. The bed shifts when Katsuki stands up and gets to a kneel beside him, and Shouto can’t help from a quiet inward breath, waiting for whatever it is Katsuki will do to him.

“Count for me, Todoroki,” Katsuki says, voice so mild that Shouto is confused, until—

Crack.

“Ah-!”

“That isn’t a number.”

“O-one,” he says, before pressing his lips together when Katsuki circles the whipped area with the same riding crop he’d hit it with. It’s a feather-light touch, making him shiver on reflex, until the crop is pulled away again right before whipping him for the second time.

Crack.

“Two!”

“Good boy,” Katsuki murmurs.

Shouto bows his head, biting his lip at the praise. Hell, he didn’t think that would sound as nice as it did from Katsuki’s mouth.

The crop caresses his other ass cheek almost as if in warning. A mix of impatience, anticipation and heat start to pool in his stomach at the short pause between each whipping blow; how much did Katsuki learn for him? Was he going off of what he could read from him? Was this all detailed in his research— the pauses, the impact of each blow, the choice of area—, or does he just know what Shouto wants?

How much time did Katsuki spend figuring out how to please him?

Crack.

“Three,” he says breathlessly, swallowing before the saliva pooling in his mouth can slip out.

“You’re still hard,” Katsuki says in reply, making a new heat settle on Shouto’s cheeks as he gets a glimpse of his painfully hard cock straining at the fabric of his boxer briefs. “Huh.”

Should he answer why?

“Don’t talk unless I tell you to,” Katsuki says, making Shouto smile at the almost-telepathic reply to his unspoken question. “You’re a pervert; of course you’d still be hard. You acted like you didn’t know shit about BDSM when you brought it up, like you were just curious about it, but you prolly wanted to be under me that bad, huh? Your dick knows what you want better than you do.”

Crack.

“Ghk— four,” he chokes out, caught off guard at the sudden blow while Katsuki talked.

“It ain’t the pain— and it ain’t whatever that soft stuff was that you were talking ‘bout.” Katsuki leans forward, mouth pressing against his ear and hot breath making him shudder, “Halfie, you just want me. Want me to be thinking about every breath, every move, every moan you make. You like me thinking this much about you, huh? Want me taking control just the way you like?”

Shit. Is he right? Is that what this is?

He sucks in a breath at the teeth teasingly nipping at his earlobe. “Stop thinking,” Katsuki says gently, so unlike his usual domineering tone yet delivering the same amount of command, “You’re here to do whatever I want, not to analyze the shit I say. Isn’t that right? Answer me.”

“Y-yes.”

Crack.

“Five,” he breathes out, eyes falling closed as he clenches his jaw. He feels it, and he’s sure Katsuki will see it soon enough, how he’d stained his boxer briefs with wetness at the sudden impact of his crop.

Fuck, he’s so hard it hurts.

“Choose, Todoroki. My hand or the crop?”

Oh god, he can’t. The moment Katsuki’s hot hand touches any part of Shouto’s skin, he’s sure he’ll break sooner than he wants. “Crop, please,” he says, swallowing at the bark of a laugh it gets him.

“Kinky bastard,” Katsuki teases, using the flat end of his crop to caress with circling motions over the areas he’d whipped on his ass. “Five and you’re already wetting your boxer briefs? I was right to say that ten was too much for you.”

Of course he is.

“Color?”

“Green,” he says immediately, hiding his smile to himself when Katsuki snorts a laugh in reply.

“’course. Get on your knees, sit on your haunches, and face me.” There’s a pause, before he adds with an amused tone, “Me, not my dick.”

Shouto does as ordered, licking his lips when he finds Katsuki sitting before him at the center of the bed. His head feels both too empty and too full just watching him, his own praise held back in his mouth at how much power suits every inch of him, leather-clad or not.

Unbidden, he finds himself thankful that this image of Katsuki is his alone to have.

Then Katsuki spreads his legs, heeled feet resting on the edges of the bed, and Shouto’s head buzzes with static.

“You’re so damn obvious,” Katsuki says, wide grin on his face as he kneads with the end of his palm over the slight bulge in his leather shorts. He hisses at his own touch and a part of Shouto needs so keenly that a bit-off noise escapes his mouth, tugging wider at Katsuki’s already-wide grin. “Fuckin’ dirty,” he says, the hand on the crop clenching as it holds his back up. “Imagine what your fans would think of you, hero Shouto. It’s almost embarrassing how needy you are.”

Shouto almost worries that he’s crossed a line, wondering if Katsuki is expressing his distaste even through a scene, until Katsuki hums low and soft and delicious as his head lolls back before resting on his right shoulder. “Of course you’re needy. You should be.”

He breathes out.

“And since you’re so needy,” Katsuki brings a foot in, resting it over Shouto’s lap, “you’ll lick my boot for me, won’t you?”

A far-away part of Shouto still capable of coherent thought thinks of how much he’d be okay with licking his boot even without assurance pre-scene that Katsuki sanitized everything. He wonders vaguely if that should be worrying, before the thought gets derailed entirely when Katsuki shifts to lie on his back, giving Shouto a good view of the imprint of his dick and taint through his leather shorts.

Fuck.

“Get to it before I get myself off—“

He cuts himself off when Shouto sets his tongue to the task, hands cradling Katsuki’s leg close as he licks his way up from toe to knee.

“Fuck, that’s disgusting,” Katsuki says, no actual disgust in tone as there is awe when Shouto’s gaze flits to him. “And who told you to touch me with your hands?”

Shouto gulps at the implicit scolding, though he hesitates still in taking his hands back.

“Hands off,” Katsuki says, waiting for him to pull away before setting his leg back down, thighs spread open as he keeps himself propped up with his elbows to his sides. “I want you to unzip my shorts with your teeth, no hands.”

Shouto is losing count of how many times Katsuki has made him swallow his saliva back.

“Crawl forward,” Katsuki orders, “shoulders under my knees, hands beside my hips.”

Shouto has to bite back a noise at the precise commands, a dizzy kind of lust taking over his consciousness as he does as told. The move brings him face to face with Katsuki’s crotch, the smell of leather overpowering everything else as he leans forward to take the zip between his teeth, before dragging it down, down, down.

Katsuki’s not wearing any underwear.

He’s leaning forward again before even being told to, licking a wet stripe up the cock visible through the opened zipper and eliciting a choked off noise from Katsuki that urges him forward, urges him more.

“Shouto—”

Shouto moans at the call of his name, nudging with his nose and mouth to push Katsuki’s cock out of his shorts. He’s successful after much effort, not even bothering to wait for orders before mouthing at him again, trailing licks and wet kisses against the warm skin of his shaft and sucking at the hot head, moaning when he tastes a hint of pre-cum.

“Stop, you gross bastard,” Katsuki grunts with a bitten-back moan, pushing him back with his knee.

“Why,” he whines, hands clutching hard at the sheets of their bed. “I want to make you feel good.” Why can’t he touch him, why can’t Katsuki allow him this?

“Holy shit,” Katsuki wheezes, putting enough force in his pushing that Shouto is finally shoved back by the shoulder. The move gives him a fuller view of Katsuki, pink-faced and legs spread out, cock flushed red as it twitches into hardness over his navel. He looks good, painfully so, and it hurts that he’s not allowed to touch him— like being offered a plate of cold soba while he’s starving and being told to wait. “What the hell, you’ve never been like this before—”

“Katsuki," he groans. “Please.”

“No.”

He whines again.

(Later, he’ll look back on this and wonder at whatever the hell it was that possessed him to be so openly needy when he’d thought so indifferently about sex and BDSM at the start.

Maybe it really is just because he wants him that badly.)

“You’re out of your fuckin’ mind,“ Katsuki huffs, falling back on his elbows but not without a warning stiletto heel in Shouto’s face when he tries to crawl back to him again. “You go at my pace, you greedy asshole. Stay there until you get your shit together.”

Shouto wrinkles his nose at the order, tempted to disobey, until Katsuki adds, “If you start shit you ain’t getting any of this.”

He wouldn’t torture himself like that, would he?

“Could probably work a dildo in me better than your dick can, going by how stupid you’re acting right now.”

He would. He definitely would.

Shouto bows his head, moving to sit back on his haunches with his fists clenched on his lap as he waits for further orders.

“So you can listen after all,” Katsuki huffs. “Did you want me to punish you that much, s’that why you didn’t listen to me? Answer.”

“No…”

“Then what?”

“I just want to make you feel good,” he admits.

“Are you speaking as my sub, or as Shouto?”

Shouto raises his head to meet Katsuki’s eyes, who’s watching him with so much interest that a need to please wells in him before he can help it. He answers, “Can’t it be both?”

“Great, so you’re a natural service top,” Katsuki says, smirking as he lowers and stretches his leg out on the bed. He doesn’t explain what a “service top” is exactly, but Shouto has a feeling it’s someone like him: eager to make his partner feel good, eager to do well. Katsuki goes on to add, “Should’ve figured you just needed more research for your own damn kinks. I doubt you’d have figured this one out if I never asked.”

He nods, because it’s true. Shouto likely wouldn’t have bothered on doing his research for interesting sex practices if Katsuki hadn’t asked in the first place. It wasn’t anything that held his interest before they started having sex themselves, after all.

“Your head back in the game now?” Katsuki asks.

“I think so.”

“Crawl to me,” Katsuki commands. “Don’t do anything else until I say so.”

Shouto does as asked, stopping the moment Katsuki says “stop”. He watches, patient this time, as Katsuki eyes him from head to knees with a scrutinizing gaze.

“You can suck my dick—”

“Okay.”

“Calm the hell down,” Katsuki says, a smirk tugging at his lips despite Shouto’s interruption. “Like I said, you can suck my dick, but you do what I say. Don’t even try to think you know better than me on what feels good. You stop when I tell you to, you suck when I tell you to. Got it?”

Shouto nods, not bothering to play at disobedience. He swallows the saliva pooling in his mouth and licks his lips, not at all shamed by the smile he can see in Katsuki’s eyes.

“C’mon then, put your mouth on me.”

Shouto’s already ducking his head the moment Katsuki finishes speaking, a heady feeling replacing anything and everything in his brain as he mouths at Katsuki’s sac, breathing him in. He trails his mouth up the shaft when Katsuki commands him to, sucks on the head and stops when Katsuki says, each lick and wet suck of his mouth ordered by Katsuki’s word. It’s exhilarating, it’s crazy, how much pleasure he can take from the noises Katsuki makes, the aborted bucking he does against Shouto’s mouth, the kick of his legs when he takes him deep down his throat. He chokes a little when he overestimates what he can take and Katsuki doesn’t force anything, pulling him back by the front tufts of dichromatic hair even when he tries to swallow more than his mouth can handle.

“Slow down, damn,” Katsuki says, voice tremulous in a way no one else, no one other than him, would ever hear. He’s panting, cheeks flushed pink and strands of his hair sticking sweat-slick to his skin all while Shouto returns to sucking and teasing at the head of his cock. Katsuki’s gorgeous in a way that’s different from usual; on a normal day, he’s beautiful like a tornado, dangerous and untouchable, but here—

He’s flesh and blood and sweat, shaky breath and wet eyes, pink-flushed and sweet. This Katsuki is his alone, no one else’s; not because Shouto has him, not because Katsuki is forced to hide any part of himself to anyone else, but because this part of Katsuki is reserved for him: his partner, his lover.

“Stop, pull off,” Katsuki huffs, voice softer than usual as he weakly kicks a leg out at him. “Don’t wanna cum yet.”

Shouto groans but does as ordered, not even bothering to wipe the drool at the corners of his mouth because he hadn’t been ordered to.

“You’re too easy,” Katsuki says, the attempt at coolness not quite succeeding given how pink his skin is.  It’s amazing, Shouto wonders vaguely, how Katsuki can still have so much control when Shouto’s barely holding on, only managing to grasp at Katsuki’s every command. “Wipe your mouth, you’re drooling.”

Shouto wipes his mouth promptly. Katsuki moves to rest back against the headboard of their bed as he does so, legs remaining splayed open as he seems to catch his breath, eyes shut and eyebrows soft, the usual furrow of his brows absent from his face.

“Pull my shorts down to my knees,” he commands through closed eyes, voice abrupt yet sure.

Shouto doesn’t hesitate.

He crawls forward, making sure he won’t unintentionally tug at anything else (he notes idly that the waist harness sits right over Katsuki’s skin, under his shorts) as he pulls Katsuki’s shorts down by the waistband, aided with the easy raise of those shapely hips. He swallows but doesn’t say anything when he sees the hint of a butt plug once the shorts are lowered to settle right above knee-high leather boots.

“Get the condom and lube.”

He does as ordered, trying not to jostle Katsuki as he reaches over to the bedside table for the bottle of lube and a packaged condom. He sits back on his haunches once that’s done, which is how he gets a good view when Katsuki reaches down to tease thick fingers around the handle of his Shouto-blue butt plug, never quite pushing in as he is just fluttering right around the rim of his hole.

Shouto’s going to slide his cock in there, slick and warm and tight, and—

Fuck.

He breathes in, breathes out, willing away the ache from his groin that he’d been able to ignore for a few minutes now, before setting the lube bottle and condom down onto the bed. Katsuki hasn’t said anything; he’s not going to move unless he’s ordered to, especially given Katsuki’s earlier demands.

“Warm up your left hand to the same temperature as my warm bath, cool up your right to the temperature of the ice in our freezer the moment it’s been put out of the fridge.”

Shouto blinks, caught off guard at the odd request. Still, he doesn’t question it as he does it, hands held palm-up above his lap while he adjusts their temperature as ordered.

“Put your hands on my thighs, here,” Katsuki says, unabashed as he raises his legs, revealing the handle of his butt plug in full along the way. Shouto feels his mouth dry at the vision of him, those normally explosive hands settling calmly, sinking into the meat of his thighs as he holds them close to his chest. Shouto wants to ask why, wants to ask what this is for, but he can’t bring himself to form words as he scoots forward to put his hands out as Katsuki had commanded him to. The moan Katsuki makes when his hands make contact with his thighs, squeezing at him, is—

debauched, for lack of a better word.

(Dirty, his mind thinks further.)

“Good,” Katsuki says, licking his lips as he tips his head up to look at him. “’m not gonna cum ‘fore you get in me.”

Shouto grunts at the admission, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows back a pathetic noise. He wants to not think too much, wants to ignore the strain in his own underwear, wants to will away the ache making him restless, but Katsuki’s making it all too hard.

“I’m fine now, get the lube and—”

“Yellow,” he bites out, hands squeezing hard at Katsuki’s thighs.

Katsuki blinks wide eyes at him. A beat later and those same eyes have gone sharp, focused— it’s almost like he hadn’t just been murmuring a promise of coming only when he’s been fucked the way he wants just a second ago.

“Oi,” Katsuki says, holding onto both of his hands as he leans in, head lowering just enough to meet his gaze directly. “Shouto, what was it?”

“Ah…”

“Yeah?”

“You were too sexy, I needed a time-out before I came too early,” he blurts out, eyes shaking when Katsuki’s face enters his field of vision.

“…”

“I’m serious,” he adds, unsure if that’s the reason for Katsuki’s silence.

“You idiot,” Katsuki snaps, smacking him hard enough on the arm that he flinches— not because of any pain, but because of the reaction it causes to the south of his body. Katsuki seems to notice going by the odd, conflicted expression that crosses his face when his gaze flits downwards to the obvious (and fresh) wet patch on his boxer briefs. “You’re serious,” he blurts out. “What the hell.”

“I wouldn’t lie…”

“Of course you wouldn’t, you’re you,” Katsuki grumbles, nose wrinkling as he pulls his hand back from Shouto’s shoulder. “How long do you need? I don’t want you blowing your load just from being inside me either, s’no fun.”

“Just— give me a minute at the most,” Shouto says, smiling wryly at the eye-roll Katsuki gives him. “I just need to get a handle on it.”

“Well don’t take too damn long, or else I’m finishing myself off on my own—”

“Please don’t.”

“Annoying,” Katsuki grumbles, though he does nothing to make it any harder on him. Rather, he presses his legs together and tucks his knees to his chest, hiding his ass from view while he rests impatiently against the headboard of their bed. His elbow rests right on top of the space by their headboard, a little to where their alarm clock rests, with his hand against his cheek as he taps his index finger over his knee. It’s almost funny, given another context, how frustrated Katsuki looks with his shorts down to his knees and his stiletto heeled feet crossed in front of him; Shouto would likely find it more amusing if his dick would just (kindly, maybe) calm down.

He breathes in, breathes out. Katsuki would have made fun of him for this in another context too, he’s certain, but he’s likely too annoyed to do so. Shouto feels the same way, and he’s sure it’s showing; it might not be as clear to anyone else, but Katsuki has gotten better over the years in reading just when it is that he’s frustrated or pissed off.

He clenches his jaw, before loosening it in a sigh.

“What did it for you?” Katsuki asks, raising an eyebrow as Shouto raises his head to look at him. “Because we’ve had sex a couple of times already, but this is the first you’ve reacted strongly like this. I’m almost embarrassed for you, Shouto.”

“I was turned on already from the start,” he admits sheepishly, smiling when Katsuki’s raised brow rises higher on his forehead. “It kind of hurt, but I forgot about it in the middle because I was so focused on you.”

“…gross.”

“Mm, maybe,” Shouto says easily, not minding or taking the seeming insult personally. Katsuki looks shier than disgusted, anyway, so it doesn’t offend him much as it does make him feel fond. “It hurt a little too much when you told me to touch you while you were teasing yourself with the butt plug. I got overwhelmed…sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize for being turned on, the hell,” Katsuki says, squinting at him. “You’re my boyfriend; I’d be offended if you weren’t hard.”

“That’s true.”

“Just have a little more self-control next time,” Katsuki tells him in a huff. “We can’t break a scene every time just because your dick hurts from being too hard.”

“Maybe I just need more practice,” Shouto offers.

Katsuki gives him a blank look, seeing right through his none too innocent suggestion. He says, “Uh-huh, and then you’ll cockblock me from getting dicked down again because you keep losing your shit at me. You get to practice alone, halfie.”

Shouto wilts at the easy rejection. Here he’d thought Katsuki would take him up on the unspoken challenge; though, to be fair with him, it made a lot of sense to practice on his lonesome first to maximize the pleasure for Katsuki in the next instance they’d want to have sex…

“Your head’s getting too far up in the clouds; your dick better be fine now,” Katsuki says, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“I think so,” Shouto agrees, eyeing his dick as it strained, a little less painfully now, in his underwear. He looks up to Katsuki and says, “Maybe you should tone down how sexy you are so there aren’t any accidents?”

“Wow, fuck you,” Katsuki spits out.

Shouto laughs, crawling over to put his hands under Katsuki’s knees, not minding the squeezing motion Katsuki does before allowing him to raise his legs straight up, perpendicular to the bed. “Orders, Katsuki?” he asks, smiling softly at the put-out look on Katsuki’s face.

“You still want me to give you orders now when you can barely keep your dick in control? No, fuck me now before you lose your shit again.”

“You’re sure?”

“Shouto, trust me,” Katsuki says, the promise clear in his low, even tone, “I’ll make you pay for this much, much later. This ain’t the last you’ve seen of me like this.”

“Good,” Shouto murmurs, lowering Katsuki’s legs just enough that he can lean in for a sweet, soft kiss to his lips. It’s amazing, how much it contrasts how dangerous Katsuki feels on a daily basis. “I’ll be waiting for it, Katsuki.”

A gasp is ripped out from Katsuki’s mouth when Shouto pulls at the plug in his ass, leaving only the barest tip in, before pushing it back into him at an angle that has him jerking and crying out. “Shouto,” Katsuki snarls after a cut-off moan, hand shooting out to grip at his elbow. “If you make me wait any longer I’ll kill you.”

“Yes,” he says, pulling back to finally take the plug out of him in its entirety and set it away. He takes the lube, spilling a heavy amount onto his fingers and warming it up with some rubbing, before pushing two digits right into Katsuki’s hole, holding him with his other arm as he twitches bodily in surprise at the new intrusion.

“Don’t tease me, asshole, just make sure I’m lubed up,” Katsuki says, the glare in his eyes not quite as strong as it would’ve been in any other place but their bedroom. It’s almost cute, Shouto thinks to himself, how Katsuki had been so calm as his Dominant but so demanding now that he’s released himself from the role. The difference is easy to see now that he’s the one in control, the one choosing their pace— Katsuki had been extraordinarily patient as his Dominant, telling him step by step what to do without grabbing him or growling to make his point.

This Katsuki is beautiful in another way too, a kind of sweet in that he’s not shy to say what he wants, unabashed in demanding that Shouto give him everything, anything he’s willing to give.

(Shouto’s more than willing to do so for him, and he hopes Katsuki understands this even outside of sex.)

“Ready?” he asks.

“Since yesterday,” Katsuki snaps, eyes narrowed as he watches Shouto pull back to strip off his underwear and put a condom on. “I should be asking you that.”

“Don’t worry,” Shouto assures him, before pulling him forcefully down the bed by his legs with no warning, getting a squawk of surprise in turn. “I’m more than ready, Katsuki.”

“What’re you—”

Katsuki cuts himself off when he notices Shouto turning him to his side until his semi-constrained knees are at ninety degrees to his front, his body sideways on the bed as Shouto moves to lie behind him. “I just think this’ll chafe less, given all the leather,” Shouto says, voice soft against Katsuki’s ear in a way that makes him shiver unbidden.

“Shouto—”

“Yes?” he asks, pressing a drawn-out kiss to Katsuki’s temple as he slides one arm under him to hold him close, with his other hand occupied in guiding his cock to Katsuki’s slick hole.

“The hell’re you playing at?” Katsuki asks, trying to look back with narrowed eyes, his outside hand reaching out to squeeze at Shouto’s hip.

“You being my Dominant was enlightening,” Shouto says, biting his lip as the head of his cock slips easy into Katsuki’s heat, making Katsuki hum in seeming satisfaction. He takes his time to move, nose wrinkling with effort not to be overwhelmed as he sinks deeper, using his one-armed embrace to keep Katsuki still before he can try to egg him on with eager hips. One part of him just wants to thrust in, wants to bury himself full in delicious heat, but the bigger part of him wants to settle here, wants to make Katsuki squirm and want for more in impatience.

Maybe Katsuki isn’t the only one with Dominant potential, really. Maybe Shouto’s just as bad, wanting to take the control from him for once to make him feel good.

“Move, Shouto,” Katsuki grumbles, squirming in his hold, hand squeezing harder at his hip. “Move.”

“I will,” he promises softly, trailing kisses from Katsuki’s nape up to his jaw, then to his pink-tipped ear. “Just give me a moment.”

“Shouto.”

He thrusts his hips up forcefully at the call, pushing himself inside fully, earning a choked out moan from Katsuki’s mouth.

“More,” Katsuki demands, bucking his hips back insistently, dull nails scratching uselessly at Shouto’s skin. “You’ve made me wait for too long already, damn it!”

“I have, haven’t I,” Shouto admits, voice cracking with the effort of maintaining some semblance of self-control. “Okay.”

He wraps both of his arms around Katsuki’s body, right around his waist, before pulling his hips back then thrusting in— repeating the motion, not giving either of them a moment to breathe as he makes a rhythm out of Katsuki’s little bitten out curses and groans. It’s not the usual position, nothing like being on top and seeing Katsuki’s pleasure-slack face in full, or being at the bottom and seeing the wonder that is Katsuki riding him; yet it’s wonderful, it’s hot, it’s pleasurable nonetheless, more so with how much he can feel Katsuki grinding against him shamelessly.

It’s a cage made out of his own two arms holding Katsuki tight to him, though it’s not something made out of force, nor accepted unwillingly. Katsuki could just as easily break out of his embrace if he wanted, could stop this all if he wanted— but he’s throwing his head back, moaning high and loud, using his outside hand to squeeze at Shouto’s hip as he takes and takes all of what Shouto’s giving him.

“Next time,” he says, mouth hot against Katsuki’s ear, “let me be- ngh- your Dominant, Katsuki. Let me take care of you.”

“You kinky bastard,” Katsuki groans, pliant and sweet as his half-bound legs curl up higher to give Shouto more access into him. His eyes are closed when Shouto strains upward to look at him, mouth open to a stream of breathy gasps and moans.

He’s beautiful.

Shouto can’t help from wondering how that same beauty could look with less of the inhibitions, if he allowed and trusted Shouto to take all the control from him for once.

“S’that a yes?” he asks, pausing the movement of his hips even if it aches to do so.

“Are you serious right now?!” Katsuki cries, smacking his hand hard against Shouto’s side. “Don’t stop, damn you! Yes, you can do whatever the fuck you want with me next time!”

Whatever, huh? “I’m holding you to it,” Shouto says, a smile growing on his lips as he returns to his pace, his own eyes coming close to falling shut, though he forces them open to watch the minute twitches and squirming Katsuki does in response to his thrusting. He takes to grinding at some points to see how Katsuki likes it, searching out the angles that he likes even if it’s driving him crazy to delay his own pleasure in such tight, almost all-consuming heat.

(It’s worth it. It’s worth the tension in his clenched jaw, the strain in his abs; watching Katsuki feel good because of him is always worth it.)

“Touch me,” Katsuki says eventually, voice breaking on a sob-like sound as he smacks insistently at Shouto’s hip. “Touch me, touch me, Shouto—”

Shouto could cry just listening to him, fuck. He unwraps his warm arm to slide a hand down, using it to pump at Katsuki’s cock while his other, cooler hand takes to rolling and pinching lightly at a hardened, pink nub. Katsuki’s legs kick out at the simultaneous contact, body straining in his embrace as a bitten out curse slips from his mouth. He’s tight around Shouto’s cock when he comes, almost painfully so, and Shouto feels the struggle of holding his hips back when Katsuki is surely starting to feel oversensitive, yet—

“Keep moving,” Katsuki says, voice cracking as he starts to come down, the shaking of his body only barely subsiding.

“But—”

“You’re gonna cum inside me now or I swear to god— fuck!”

Shouto’s already moving his hips fast, erratic, the moment Katsuki began whatever threat it was he wanted to give to make Shouto move. His breathing is hot as he presses his forehead into Katsuki’s shoulder, re-wrapping both his arms around his body as he moves his hips without thinking too much, or thinking at all, just letting his body seek out the pleasure it’s searching so desperately for with desperate, hurried thrusting.

He’s certain he blacked out with his orgasm when he finds Katsuki suddenly patting at his arms, calling to him with a soft, “Oi, Shouto.”

“Nn?”

“Did you just— did you black out?”

“It’s likely,” he mumbles, watching as Katsuki unwraps his arms from his waist, before pulling away with a wince from his now-flaccid cock. Shouto forces down the urge to sleep as he sits up and slides the condom off of himself, tying it up before throwing it away to the trash bin beside their bed. He gets the tissues as he does so, letting Katsuki takes some pieces for himself so they can both wipe themselves off, before he uses his heat quirk to steam out the liquid spill of Katsuki’s cum on the sheets.

“Let me help,” he offers, having noticed Katsuki stripping himself of his clothing while Shouto steamed out their sheets.

“Get the boots for me,” Katsuki says, not bothering to look up as he stretches his legs out in Shouto’s direction while simultaneously working on unstrapping the harness from his waist down to his thighs. It’s a bit of a struggle to slide the boots off given how sticky his skin is with sweat, though they manage well enough somehow with some determination. Katsuki throws him his water bottle once they’ve successfully dressed him down; the thoughtful act has Shouto wondering for a moment, as he often does post-coitus, how Katsuki manages to remember so many things when Shouto’s brain feels empty as is every time they’re done.

“You’ve got that dumb look on your face again,” Katsuki says, wiping his mouth after finishing with his swig of water. “What is it this time?”

“Just thinking of how you’re so put-together even when my mind fails me after sex,” Shouto admits honestly, smiling at the baffled look that falls upon Katsuki’s face in reply. “It reminded me of how lucky I am to have you.”

“Ugh.”

“Sleep?” Shouto says hopefully, already snuggling back down into their bed with one arm patting at the space beside him.

“Fine,” Katsuki concedes, crawling up to lie facing him. There’s a pause where Katsuki squints at him as he lies on his side, seeming scrutinizing, before he moves forward to—

cuddle into him?

(Shouto’s heart, thankfully enough, doesn’t fail him. His mind, however, is another matter entirely.)

“…Katsuki?”

“Aftercare,” Katsuki says simply, pushing Shouto’s face forward so his head is resting under his chin. “Now go the fuck to sleep, Shouto.”

Shouto can’t help from laughing at that.

“Okay.” A pause. “You won’t forget that you promised you’ll let me do anything with you the next time we have sex, right?”

“I give you an inch and you take a damn mile,” Katsuki mumbles, chest rumbling against Shouto’s cheek as he speaks. It’s nice, and Katsuki’s body runs warm; Shouto didn’t need any help with falling asleep, but cuddling him certainly moved that along faster. Katsuki adds, “I knew you wanted things, you just didn’t know how to word it. And yeah, I’m not going back on my word.”

Shouto smiles, letting his eyes fall shut.

“Good. You can be my sub next time.”

Katsuki snorts a laugh, warm hand ruffling his hair gently.

“Whatever the hell you want, Shouto.”