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Ten years and still going strong.
It was a wonder to Izuku sometimes, how their relationship had been so good from the very start – Katsuki had gone and kissed him in the middle of their UA graduation and Izuku hadn’t looked back once.
Katsuki grew the most, unfairly, growing tall and wide and not only handsome but fucking gorgeous.
Ten years later, and they lived together, had an enormously fat cat named Katsudon (really, just Don, because Katsuki thinks he looks like a fat mob boss), and had achieved their penultimate dream – reaching the top ten.
Miruko stood as number one of course, and neither one of them were rushing to replace her. But Four and Five respectively were just fine for them, especially since their popularity polls tended to reliably be so close in results. That’s the struggle of a Hero Duo.
Rolling, Izuku sighs, kissing the pec he finds first. Katsuki flops a bit in his doze, they’ve only just laid down for bed, but Katsuki had this wonderful skill to just, fall asleep on command. Izuku was jealous and amazed by turns, because he always had to sit there and think for two or three hours until his brain got tired enough. Usually, it allowed him some long uninterrupted cuddling time, let him think about his day and Katsuki’s day and even to finish some of the fanfiction ideas that hop around his head like bunnies.
But tonight.
There was something else tonight. Something so insidious Izuku hadn’t noticed it himself for what felt like ages. Something that had just been sitting there and growing, like a flower forcing its way up through concrete into shade, blooming out of desperation and determination. He’d stumbled upon it in the strangest of ways. In a moment of weakness, he had been comforting a friend, patting his back, telling him he was a damn catch and nobody should make him feel otherwise, and his heart had given a little hopeful lurch.
What.
And then he was on his mind all the time. At work, in the shower, at home with his love (still the love of his life, that somehow hadn’t shifted at all).
That stupid girl had broken up with and broken the heart of the one he thought about so often, the one who wasn’t the man he loved and who slept beside him at that very moment.
Kirishima.
It’s not like Izuku didn’t love Katsuki. Honestly, he loved him so much it got overwhelming sometimes, like he would just keel over and die from the weight of his heart swelling in his chest.
But there was space in his heart and Kirishima had somehow moved in, rent-free.
Was he dishonest? Was Izuku cheating somehow, thinking about hugging and kissing a man who was not his live-in husband/boyfriend/soulmate?
“The fuck is up.” Katsuki’s sleep grizzled voice interrupts his downwards spiral, and Izuku realizes he’s been chewing his lips and muttering for a while.
Shit.
“Gu-Kacchan.” Izuku stutters. “Sorry, did I wake you?” The large unfairly muscled arm that lay around him tightens, urging Izuku up and close and despite his self-hatred, Izuku soaks it in.
“Answer me, dumbass.” Katsuki yawns, rustling, turning his head so he can look down and capture green eyes. His lidded red ones were soft, vulnerable, Izuku couldn’t…he couldn’t disrupt his good night, it might cause a fight, he felt sick about it ---
But the alternative is to lie, and Katsuki would definitely hate that more.
Gathering all his hero bravery, Izuku licks his lip and stares at his love, wondering how to broach it. In the meantime, Katsuki had blinked, rubbed his eyes and turned a bit more attention to Izuku, who was clearly struggling with something. He rolls to face him in bed, their heads on the same pillow. He was patient.
In high school he would have started snarling, shaking Izuku for an answer. But time had soothed his worst tendencies just a bit, now he just stared with demanding eyes and a soft caress of his fingertips to Izuku’s bare hip.
God, he loves him.
“I have something to confess, but I want you to know that it changes nothing.” Izuku licks his lips and takes a moment to appreciate Katsuki’s poker face. “I have a crush. On someone else. But I still love you so much, so I don’t understand what the hell I’m doing,” He laughs, disparagingly, “but I think about him a lot and I think about…being with him. With you.” And here his face twists because that’s true. Even in his worst fantasies with Kirishima, Katsuki was somewhere nearby and somehow alright with it, and that’s just selfish.
“I feel horrible about it, but it’s been like, a month now and it hasn’t lessened. I don’t know what to do. I love you.” Izuku finishes lamely, tempted to bury his head under his pillow and hide.
Red eyes.
They both had red eyes.
Shit!
“Who?” Katsuki asks, and somehow, it’s not full of blame. Just a question, he wants to know.
“Kirishima-kun.” Just rip the band-aid off. Katsuki doesn’t seem to react, except for the fingers at his hip clutch down suddenly, grabbing him, and that ratchets Izuku’s heartbeat up a few notches.
Swallowing, Izuku puts his palms to Katsuki’s chest.
“I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” Izuku tells him, and it’s true. He would. If Katsuki says now he wants Izuku to stop seeing Kirishima, when they’re out with their friends, or at work (they work at the same agency, damnit all, no matter how much it would suck to not see his friend) he would do it.
A stupid little crush. Izuku curses himself.
“What do you think about with him?” Is what Katsuki asks instead, and his voice has a thread of something unexplainable that makes Izuku still, watching him back. Katsuki’s poker face was the stuff of legend, but even he couldn’t slow his heartbeat, which Izuku can spy fluttering in his neck. The clutch of his hand had turned, not quite urgent, but forceful.
“I…” Izuku starts, watching red eyes dart down to his lips. He licks them, slow, and in response they darken just a tad. Oh. Oh, interesting. “I think about kissing him. About sitting in his lap. About hugging him. He’s so tall.” Taller than Katsuki by an inch, something Kirishima crowed about whenever it came up. He was an absolutely barrel-chested man, thick and tall and massive, a literal wall whenever he used his quirk. He’d halted a tank by himself last year, and even now Izuku’s pulse jolts at the memory of the footage.
Katsuki swallows, and Izuku watches it.
“I think about him in our bed,” Izuku says carefully, looking for any hint of disgust, or revulsion, or betrayal. Nothing changes in Katsuki save for the way his thumb started drawing circles around his hip bone. Izuku decides to go for it. “Between us.”
That breaks him.
“Shit,” Katsuki breaks, closing his eyes and breathing out shakily. Recognizing it, feeling it against his thigh, Izuku stares at the love of his life and wonders.
“Kacchan, do you…”
“Yeah.”
They stare at each other, before Izuku starts snorting into laughter that’s a bit too hysterical, and a lot relieved. Katsuki shakes his head and there’s a half smile on his face, on anyone else it would be sheepish. No way, no way!
“No way,” Izuku breathes, hitching his leg up and over Katsuki’s hip. In response the man puts his large, lovely hands on his thigh and starts feeling him up. “How? Why?!”
“Fucking hell, I don’t know.” Rolling his eyes, Katsuki ducks and nudges their noses together. Izuku didn’t know how he could feel small in someone’s arms, he’s a bulky muscled guy even if he was only 5’8”, but oh how he loved being small and cared for by this man. “I think he was in the back of my mind a lot, but it was only this year that I started…wanting him. And you. Obviously.”
“Obviously.” Izuku mimics and slips his foot behind Katsuki’s knee to the sensitive skin there. “Tell…tell me?”
Looking down at him, Katsuki drags the flat of his hand, his long, thick fingers, up Izuku’s thigh, over his briefs, over his side and around to cup his neck, pulling him close. Heat flares between them, even before Katsuki starts speaking.
“I want to see you beneath him. You’d be so small.” Hot, hot red eyes. “He’d be so good to you, but I want to see him get rough.”
“Oh god,” Izuku breathes against his lips, melting into the hold, imagining, imagining…
“I want him on the other end of you and feel like if I fuck hard enough my dick will reach his.” Katsuki says, fingers twitching against his nape. Izuku has started sweating, he’s hard as a rock. Starting up a tiny little grind against Katsuki, Izuku is rewarded with a breathless groan, low and dark.
“Kacchan,” Izuku admits, suddenly, because it’s utterly imperative, “I want to kneel for him with you beside me, and I want to kiss you over his cock.”
“Fuck!” Katsuki breaks, rolling them and urging Izuku’s legs apart so they can fuck against one another, closer, closer.
“Do you think he’d fuck you like I do?” Izuku whispers in his loves ear, eyes blind, seeing red hair and blond, “I think he could make you come on his cock, do you think?”
“His teeth.” Katsuki gasps, surging against him, and Izuku is so close suddenly, “I want his fucking teeth—”
“Kacchan, oh my god,” Izuku cries out, scraping his nails over a strong, flexing back. The edge of pain must have kicked Katsuki over to orgasm, because he arches, cock flexing where it presses beside Izuku’s, trapped behind cloth, and there’s a spreading of wet heat. Izuku trembles, right on the cusp.
“Deku, baby,” Katsuki whispers, panting over his ear, “I want him to fuck you so bad, I want to eat his come out of you what the fuck—” His voice is scandalized at his own words, and even as Izuku crumbles into orgasm from the very fucking thought, he’s giggling about it amid gasps.
After they lay there for a few minutes, probably close to midnight, drying come in their briefs, Katsuki grunts at the ceiling.
“I’m a fucking cuck.” He says, disgusted.
“K-Kah—” Izuku breaks into laughter, loud and unashamed and relieved. “Maybe just for him?”
He thinks about it. Then his pointy nose wrinkles.
“Yeah, just him. I’d kill anyone else.”
“Good, that’s how I feel.” Izuku sighs, working his way into sitting. He sticks his tongue out at the sticky feeling at his crotch. “Do you…do you think this is something we should…pursue?”
Katsuki rolls his head to look at him, gorgeous and lovely and wow Izuku loves him more, is that possible?
“Should talk about it more. Is it just sex?” He answers.
Izuku plucks his briefs off, thinking.
Groaning, Katsuki rolls out of bed and strips, walking dirty dicked and naked to the bathroom to start up their extra-large shower. Maybe three people would fit in there? An image of Kirishima, with his height and size fills Izuku’s head and thinks…nope. He’s just too big. A warmth flares in his chest.
Climbing in behind Katsuki, who’s gargling hot water from the showerhead, the psycho, Izuku presses his face between shoulder blades (he’s the perfect height for this, he loves it) and wraps his arms around Katsuki.
“No, it’s not just sex.” Izuku confesses, kissing where his head lay. “I want to wake up with him and walk out to find you with breakfast and eat it with him. I want to hold his hand, and cuddle watching movies, and have him nearby all the time.”
“Hmm.” Katsuki turns, raising an arm and Izuku enters the opened space, accepted Katsuki’s kiss, despite the water that falls over his face. Large hands wipe him off and he opens his eyes to find Katsuki soft and protective and loving. “I want to leave bed in the morning to go run, and know you’re keeping each other warm.”
Tears fill Izuku’s eyes, and he collapses against his large chest. Niffing, because he’s emotional like that, Izuku cuddles close and lets Katsuki wash him.
“You know how much I like taking care of you like this.” Katsuki says into green hair, as he reaches and shuts off the water. Lost in sensation, Izuku makes a little grumbling noise, even as Katsuki wraps him up in a towel and hugs him, keeping him close. “If we do this, I’m gonna need some guarantees from him. A lot of them. It’s gonna change us, you know.”
“Mhm. I know.” Izuku hums, freshly washed, dried by vigorous hands, and happy to stand there waiting for Katsuki to dry himself. “I love you.” He says.
“I love you too.” Katsuki answers, yawning again. “Fucking sleep this time.”
“I will.” Izuku sighs. They burrow down together, cuddling close in a way that wouldn’t last long before they’re too sweaty and hot, but needing the contact at the moment. “Pretty sure I’m halfway to loving him too, Kacchan.”
“Yeah.” Katsuki sighs, and there’s dry lips on his forehead. “Me too. Sleep.”
Eight weeks later, and operation ‘Seduce Eijirou’ is being set into motion. Having scoured the internet, Izuku presented Katsuki with a manila folder full of information ranging from BDSM relationships to polygamy. After some back and forth and a few smacks of the folder against Izuku’s overachieving head, they’d landed on polyamory.
Engaging in multiple romantic relationships with the consent of all people involved. Katsuki and Izuku, Izuku and Eijirou, and Katsuki and Eijirou.
To them, it felt right, like a natural progression.
Eijirou was utterly oblivious however, and they’d decided to send out a few testing tendrils to see how the man reacted to them. Flirting and whatnot. Izuku was nervous, but Katsuki wasn’t.
Katsuki didn’t start conversations, so instead he peppered the ones that normally occur with little tidbits that he would never tell anyone else.
“Tch.” He tsks at the phone in his hand, locking it and putting it away before Eijirou could see that there wasn’t any new message from Izuku at all. “Deku’s getting needy. I can’t hold him every second of the damn day.”
The element of truth here is that Izuku truly loved being touched, physical affection, and all that. At all points of the day, he would reach out for Katsuki just to touch him, to soak his presence in. He loved hugs, kisses, being pet, being massaged, literally anything.
“O-oh?” Eijirou blinks at him, nonplussed. He scratches his cheek where there was a bit of dark growth. “Does he miss you?”
“Mn.” Katsuki grunts, pretending to focus on his weight training. In truth, he was watching how the odd topic suddenly made Eijirou start stumbling about, losing track of how many reps he’d done. “Gets clingy sometimes. When you see him later, smother him for me.” Good, that was good. Katsuki-speak for ‘give him a hug when you see him next, because I’ll be on patrol and can’t do it’.
“Oh, uh, sure!” Eijirou grins, happy to help.
Izuku sends Katsuki a few flustered emojis a few hours later, some blushing ones, and the monkey that covers his eyes. Grinning at his phone, Katsuki laughs into open air, alone on the rooftops.
After that, Katsuki took advantage of Eijirou’s willingness to help, and Izuku certainly soaked in the new physical affection.
Izuku went about it in a different way.
“Ah, Kirishima-kun?” He asks hesitantly one afternoon as they’re on patrol (perhaps Izuku had finagled the schedule that way, perhaps not, nobody would ever know), “Would you mind if I ask about your quirk, a bit?”
“Huh? But you know all about it.” Eijirou answers, guileless. “It hasn’t really changed since high school.”
“Are you kidding?!” Izuku professes, eyes wide. Katsuki told him once his eyes were one of his best features. (oh god, that’s embarrassing to think about himself). “You’ve done so much of it! I have so many questions, like have you ever tested how hard you actually get? Do you get heavier when you’ve activated it? You stopped that tank last year, do you know how incredible that was!” Izuku gasps, praising, because it was true. “What do you do to manage the momentum of things, I rarely see you getting pushed back, are you just that strong?” He spies Eijirou’s pink cheeks and slaps a hand over his mouth. “Sorry,” he says behind it, embarrassed. “I get carried away.”
“No, no, it’s cute—cool! It’s cool, man.” Eijirou laughs, putting a bashful hand behind his head. It really legs his arm muscle bulge, and hah, Izuku felt warm with success. He was gonna say it was cute. His stomach flips over.
Later, Izuku squeals over the phone to an impressed Katsuki, and they sigh together like two idiotic teenagers.
At the gym yet again, because that was their most uninterrupted time alone, Katsuki tries something. He conveniently forgets his sweat towel at the locker. So, he takes of his shirt and uses it instead, peering subtly to the mirrors to find Eijirou staring dumbly at the small of his back, where it tapers tightly into his narrow hips. Twisting a little, trying for nonchalant, Katsuki lets his weight shift and pop his hip up, letting his ass settle curved and round.
On this hip, Izuku had left him a little gift in the shape of his teeth. Katsuki wanted Eijirou to notice.
Eijirou’s eyes drop further and darken, before he blinks rapidly, clearing his throat and sucking down water like he was dehydrated. Not sensing any jealousy, or bitterness, Katsuki crows mentally, because all their little tricks were working.
Hah, Katsuki grins to himself. He did want them both, in some form. Ignoring the little fluttering in his heart, Katsuki imagines telling Izuku this later that night, and knows he’s gonna get laid while Izuku breathes naughty little fantasies into his ear.
Again, Izuku takes a different tactic, and sighs a half-manufactured dreamy sigh when Eijirou and he were catching lunch at their favorite little café.
“What’s up, man?” Eijirou asks around his sub sandwich. He has two, and it’s impressive how much fuel he needs to keep his tank of a body moving.
“Kacchan. He was…” Izuku flushes, because was he really going to say it out loud, here in public? “He can be so romantic. I don’t appreciate it enough.”
Eijirou pauses with wide eyes and a wide mouth around his sandwich. Blushing harder, Izuku waves his hands anxiously.
“S-s-sorry! We don’t need to talk about it, I know it’s kind of…oh, embarrassing.” He hides his face, half of his embarrassment real.
“No, no bro! Please, tell me about it! I’m happy to listen.” Eijirou reaches out and tugs at one of his arms to reveal his face, and Izuku privately, to himself, cheers in triumph.
“Really? Thank you, Eijirou-kun,” Izuku beams at him, rubbing his cheek. “I just…don’t get to talk about it much and not everyone would really…believe me. Not like you.” He hits him with the wide green eyes, and Eijirou’s stuttered response is delicious.
“I believe you! Kat can totally be, uh…romantic.” He dives back into his sandwich.
“Kacchan made me dinner last night. It’s not new, he usually does because I can ruin ramen, but…” Izuku bites his lip and leans forward, like he’s sharing a secret. “He lit candles, and held my hand, and uh, do you know that Elvis song? It’s really old, ‘Can’t help falling in love’?” Eijirou’s eyes widen. Izuku nods, breathless, because this had happened (about three months ago), “he sang along with it, to me, and we slow danced in the living room.” His eyes are sparkling, he knows it, but so are Eijirou’s.
“Oh my god.” He whispers back, enamored with the image. “That’s adorable as shit.” Izuku can almost see how Eijirou’s mental image of Katsuki has changed, just slightly, just a tiny bit.
“Right?!” Izuku reaches out and puts his hand on the back of Eijirou’s. “I’m so glad someone else understands. He can be so sweet. I don’t deserve him.”
“Y-you deserve him.” Eijirou answers back, blinking quickly. “I’m glad he’s so good to you.” Izuku lets his hand linger, then draws it away to finish his own meal.
“Thank you, Eiji.” He whispers, shy about it, and earns a tiny little smile.
Yes.
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Step one, estimate interest, complete.
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~
It all felt very natural. It didn’t feel rushed. It wasn’t like life suddenly changed, Izuku and Katsuki still lived together, still had sex that wasn’t spurred on by thoughts of Kirishima (though that sex was rather hot when it did come up), still kissed and cuddled and went out with friends.
Knowing that Kirishima was bisexual was one thing, it was another spying him eating them both up across the bar table one night the lot of them were out drinking.
Mina was dancing, as she normally does, with Ochako and a chivalrous Tenya on hand to chase off creeps. At their table, Izuku, Katsuki, and Eijirou spent the time talking, drinking, and laughing.
Mildly drunk with the amount of alcohol he’d imbibed in the last thirty minutes (the only way to trick his quirk into letting him feel it at all), Izuku had been dragged bodily into Katsuki’s lap and lay there, pleased as punch, with his hands crossed over his own chest and his head leaned trustingly on Katsuki’s strong shoulder. Dressed in his best black pants, his ass and thighs were glorious to behold, and he looked so damn cute in a pink sweatshirt with a small bunny face on the front.
Katsuki, indulging in some PDA that he normally refrains from, curls his fingers into green hair and drinks his gin with the other, speaking with Eijirou as if it was completely normal to have Izuku dreamily wrapped up in his lap looking like a whole snack.
Well-dressed himself, Katsuki watched through black lined eyes how Eijirou’s kept returning to the way Izuku was curled up against Katsuki’s broad chest. Izuku, such a strong little fucker the number four hero himself, nearly purring in his relaxation, and Katsuki, who would normally be sharper and louder but for some reason seemed so chill. They didn’t normally do this. But the evening was comfortable, they felt safe. Izuku drifted into his special little headspace, helped along with the alcohol and the warmth of the club, and Katsuki felt his chest ache with how much he loved him.
And a little idea makes itself known.
“Gotta piss.” Katsuki groans, standing as best he could, with Izuku in his arms. Murping in displeasure, Izuku blinks his eyes open and pouts. Instead of dropping him back onto the seat, Katsuki leans over and places him nonchalantly in Eijirou’s lap. Going without fuss, Izuku blinks his lidded eyes at first Katsuki them Eijirou, who’s cheeks were flushing red enough even to see under the club’s low light.
“Wha-hey, bro!” Despite the shrill panic in his voice, Eijirou still grasps Izuku firmly, curled up as he was, making sure he doesn’t slip or fall from his lap.
“Keep an eye on him,” Katsuki grunts, rolling his eyes and stretching, leaving, wait bro, don’t leave, don’t leave when your sexy little boyfriend was perched so perfectly on his thighs, “He’s not all there right now.”
“What do you mean?” Eijirou half-shouts after him, before turning back to Izuku who hadn’t even fussed with the change in laps. He’s met with a content smiling face, freckles and green sparkling eyes.
“Eiji!” Izuku cheers, putting his palms to Eijirou’s broad chest and leaning to plant his cheek against his shoulder, nose brushing his bare neck. He makes a little vibrating noise that Eijirou can feel in his entire body, ho, shit, calm down, calm down, the last thing you need to do is pop a boner for your best friend’s husband/boyfriend when you were told to keep an eye on him.
“U-uh, hey man!” Eijirou answers, swallowing. Izuku shifts, somehow putting more of himself against Eijirou, sighing, and melting in his arms. He then proceeds to not move beyond working his fingers against his chest, absently, like he didn’t realize he was doing it. Like how a cat kneads. “Uh… Are you okay?”
Izuku just hums at him, moving his nose back and forth. It was exceedingly distracting.
Pushing Izuku off right now felt like a hate crime, so Eijirou simply…holds him. It’s not like the weight was too much, he fit just right. And he was…quiet. Content. Not buzzing with good feelings or words like Eijirou normally associated with the other, who usually had some kind of anxious energy.
Instead, Izuku was warm against him, breathing lightly against his clavicle.
“Oh,” comes a hushed voice. Mina and Ochako had returned to finish their drinks, and they smiled at him now with secret little smiles.
“Its not what it looks like! Uh, Bakubro just went to the bathroom and…” He feels like he’s sweating too much, would that bother Izuku?
“And put Zukkun in your care.” Ochako answers, laughing. “You should feel lucky, Katsuki doesn’t trust anyone with him when he’s like this.”
“Yeah, about that…what uh…what is this?” Eijirou asks then, absently tightening his arms around where Izuku was curled, urging him up and closer, making sure he didn’t slip.
“It’s hard for Izuku to relax, you know?” She replies, turning a bit solemn, eyes soft as she takes him in. “He works so hard every day, and he puts so much pressure on himself. When he truly relaxes, he really just lets go. Katsuki is always there to look after him, so he’s never in any danger. I’ve only seen it when they’re at home, though, so he must really need it.” She reaches forward and pets green hair, making Izuku stretch a little and smile lopsidedly. It’s like he wasn’t hearing any of this, but just…luxuriating.
Does he really feel that safe with Eijirou? Does Katsuki really trust him that much?
Something blooms in his chest.
“God, he’s cute.” Mina mutters, shaking her head and downing the last of her drinks. She starts piling the glasses to return them to the bar, likely to replace them. Ochako follows and ambushes Tenya, dragging him back onto the dancefloor against his complaints.
“Fuck yeah he is.” Katsuki says, returning in time to hear her, with a glass of water in hand. He doesn’t immediately take Izuku back, even when Eijirou shifts to make it easier. Instead, his sharp red eyes take them both in, glinting with something that might be satisfaction, and Eijirou tries not to look too proud of himself. Yeah. He watched over his bro’s lover perfectly, he’s even humming against his skin!
Shit, how much did he drink, don’t be so weird Eijirou.
“Nerd.” Katsuki nudges a freckled cheek, standing at the edge of the booth and looming over the seated Eijirou. Something flutters in his throat.
“Mmno.” Izuku grumbles, clutching Eijirou tighter. He flushes and gapes a bit, wondering if he’s about to be exploded.
Instead, Katsuki just snorts.
“Yeah, I know baby, I’m not gonna move you,” oh shit, Eijirou had never heard Katsuki say something like that…he called Izuku baby? A pet name? He said it so softly. That fluttering feeling strengthens in Eijirou, and he’s damn near holding his breath. What was happening? Was this a new level of friendship with Bakubro? Has Eijirou evolved somehow, like a pokemon does?
“Drink,” Katsuki urges, soft and gentle and so new that Eijirou almost forgets to blink, staring at his face. The man holds the cup up to Izuku, who shifts only a tiny bit to wrap his lips around the straw and drink water, still cuddling up to Eijirou so he can feel the way his cheek and throat flex, swallowing and wow, okay, back to the boner thing, don’t pop one, don’t you dare.
“Good boy.” Katsuki rumbles, and yep, Eijirou becomes cognizant of his cock beginning to chub. Biting his tongue as subtly as he can, Eijirou measures out his breathing.
Eijirou stays rooted to his seat for the rest of the night, even as Izuku seems to float into consciousness again, laughing and joking and blushing. Katsuki resumes his seat across the table and watches, keeping an eye on them both. Sometimes Eijirou forgets himself and puts his chin on Izuku’s head, or shoulder, clasping his hands over his hip and thigh. When he notices his own movements, he screams inwardly, but finds that Katsuki doesn’t even seem to care.
Eventually, Izuku thanks him (thanks him), and shifts out of his lap. Immediately, Eijirou feels too light, too cold, like he might just turn into mist and float up and away. Katsuki puts his arm around Izuku as they leave, putting his lips into green hair, and Eijirou tells himself he doesn’t feel their gazes on his back.
The night is over, they’re going their separate ways, but Eijirou feels caught somehow in between green and red eyes, and he’s leaving with that chub in his pants he’s definitely going to deal with later.
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Step two, establish trust, complete.
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“Alright, what do we do next?” Izuku puts his hands flat on the table, like a general does over a map. Sitting with his habanero coffee (a crime against coffee beans everywhere), Katsuki raises an eyebrow over his reading glasses.
“What do you want to do? Ask him directly if he wants to bone.”
“No,” Izuku asserts, feeling flushed, chewing through his bottom lip, “no, no, no, not yet. That might make it seem we’re just after his body.”
“We are after his body.”
“Well…yeah,” Izuku glances away and hunches his shoulders. His neck was turning red. “But we want him in other ways too.”
“Invite him over, just him. We can eat, watch a movie and shit.” Katsuki tells him, flicking the newspaper over, looking for the hero rankings. “Then we’ll ask him out.”
“Right, right, that sounds good.” Izuku rubs his sweaty palms to his shirt. “Intimate, no pressure.”
He chews his lip some more.
“If you need something in your mouth, I got it for you right here.” Katsuki tells him archly, gripping his own cock through his sweatpants and flashing a smug smirk. Flushing bright pink, Izuku releases his lip, but then smiles naughtily. He crawls under the table and takes his love up on his offer, clearly surprising him if the bitten off swear and the jump of his cock meant anything.
Izuku schedules it for the following Friday.
Eijirou answers with an enthusiastic positive when Izuku invites him to watch the newest Godzilla flick, and promises to bring beer. Going on a cleaning frenzy, Izuku takes out his nerves on the dirt and dust piled up in their apartment, washing all the laundry, scrubbing the kitchen cabinets, even cleaning inside the oven. Katsuki watches him fuss, snickering at him. After being hit in the face with a soggy sponge and exiled to clean the bathroom, Katsuki does as bid if only to escape the muttering.
“Calm the fuck down, you’re gonna be weird when he comes.” Katsuki barks when Izuku worries for the third time about whether the throw pillows were in good enough condition. He traps Izuku in his big mitts and kisses him fiercely. With great timing, Eijirou knocks loudly on their front door while they’re in the middle of tonsil hockey, and Katsuki lets Izuku drop onto his back over the couch side, mouth red and swollen.
Grinning down at him, Katsuki answers the door with confidence, dragging the idiot inside by his shirt.
“Sup, Kat?” Eijirou greets, handing him the beer. Izuku scrambles to his feet and pats himself down, catching his attention.
It’s obvious Katsuki just had his tongue in Izuku’s mouth, as the other was ruffled, pink-lipped and blushing. Eijirou swallows.
It’s an enjoyable evening, all told. Katsuki makes dinner with all the swearing and snapping that came with it, trying to catch Eijirou’s fingers in his tongs when the man tries to steal some food before he decides its done. Behind them, Izuku laughs and sets the table, drinking in the sight of the two of them in the kitchen, Eijirou big and wide and Katsuki thin-waisted but sculpted. God, they looked good together.
Dinner is delicious, Katsuki evidently put effort into it. The movie was a solid two hours of sitting on the couch, Katsuki at one end, Eijirou comfortable at the other, and Izuku cross legged between them. Amid Katsuki’s sour complaints about bad CGI and worse acting, Izuku’s muttering questions about the logistics and ethics of nuclear experimentation that results in a monster the size of Godzilla, Eijirou’’s genuine enjoyment of the action sequences was a perfect counterpoint.
When the credits start rolling, Eijirou says its his new favorite movie, and Katsuki throws back how each new movie he watches becomes his ‘favorite movie’ so really, he has no favorites.
Izuku, shaking his head at their argument turns off the TV. Then in the sudden silence, he clambers onto his knees and sits on his ankles, turning to face Eijirou.
Katsuki shuts up and also shifts to look at him, sprawled out behind Izuku and with suddenly heavy, sharp eyes.
Eijirou is immediately on edge.
“So…Eiji…” Izuku starts, swallowing and looking rather nervous.
“What’s up, guys?” He asks, careful. What was happening? Did something bad happen? Had Eijirou done something? (All his guilty fantasies that he had when he was alone and in bed with himself flashed through his mind, and he hopes desperately they can’t tell).
“Kacchan and I, have been…wanting…” Izuku doesn’t know how to say it. All his practiced conversations fled his mind completely and he was left searching for words. Eijirou sits and suffers on the edge of his seat.
“We’ve been flirting with you.” Katsuki provides, point blank.
Blinking, Eijirou attempts to glance away, but always finds his eyes coming back to them. To red sharp eyes, and wide, entreating green ones. He swallows.
“Yeah, I’ve uh…noticed?” He laughs awkwardly, wondering if this was some kind of weird apology. “What exactly has this all been…about?”
They sit in the silence of Eijirou’s question for a long moment. It’s a breathless one, as Eijirou watches them exchange glances. Neither look angry, or shocked, or betrayed if this was some weird catch-out to pin him for thinking about them so much, for flirting back, so he’s just…baffled right now. Confused.
It’s Izuku who makes the first move.
He leans forward, one hand balancing on Eijirou’s thigh, and he kisses his cheek. It’s sweet, gentle, but slow. Seductive. Even when he draws away, he brushes his nose against Eijirou and blinks at him through thick eyelashes. Oh god, he’s beautiful. Behind him, Eijirou sees Katsuki watching the movements silently, not even flinching or twitching at the sight. What was happening.
“We like you, Eiji.” Izuku says, licking his lips. They tingled from where they had pressed against Eijirou’s cheek. “We like you a lot and want to date you. The two of us.” He’s telling the truth. No way would Izuku lie, or joke about something like this.
A period of silence.
“Huh?!” Eijirou bleats, and it makes Katsuki snort.
“What’s to understand, dumbass? We like you and want to take you out. And take you home.” Red eyes glint and Eijirou damn near swallows his tongue. Reaching behind him without looking, Izuku slaps the back of his hand against Katsuki’s stomach, making him grunt.
“Shut up, Kacchan,” He says, and it should be funny watching the way Katsuki grouses but subsides, listening to his partner. Instead, Eijirou is reeling a bit.
“How...do you mean? Like you two, and, and, me?” He licks his lips. What is he supposed to say. Was this about sex?
Izuku shakes his head.
“This isn’t…we’re not looking for a unicorn or whatever it’s called. We…I want to date you. I like you a lot and want to be with you like I am with Katsuki.” The use of the full name instead of Kacchan triggers something in Eijirou’s gut. Great big green eyes. “He wants the same thing.”
Eijirou, tearing himself away from green to start drowning in red instead, finds Katsuki’s gaze and wonders.
“Yeah, I do too.” Katsuki answers the unspoken question. “You and me, me and Deku, you and Deku. And us all.” His eyes are hot, burning straight through Eijirou and into his core.
Okay, so he’s aroused about it.
But the rest of him is floundering.
“Let me think about it.” Eijirou says carefully, feeling somehow caught and trapped between the kneeling Izuku and the lounging Katsuki.
“Of course.” Izuku nods his fluffy head. “There’s no pressure, Eijirou, please don’t think there is. We don’t want to threaten our friendship. This is just…” he struggles to find the description that works. Taking in his scarred hands, which were laced together and the thumbs working in a repetitive pattern over his palms, Eijirou realized the man was nervous. And earnest, and sincere, and all the things he admires.
“This is another layer. We both want.” Katsuki answers for him, seemingly calm but his arm thrown over the back of the couch was tense. “But not unless you do too.”
Thoughtful, Eijirou drifts out of their apartment at the end of the night, saying his goodbyes and initiating a goodbye hug with Izuku. He didn’t want to make it seem like he was upset, he wasn’t. Katsuki nods at him, crowding up at Izuku’s back, and Eijirou returns it, noticing for perhaps the first time, how they could look at each other over Izuku’s head where if was between their chests. Eijirou was even looking down a smidge.
Katsuki had always seemed so large in his mind’s eye, standing taller than him, and damn near dwarfing Izuku, was sending signals all through his brain in a language Eijirou couldn’t speak yet.
He leaves, thinking, and finds on the walk home that he’s smiling slightly.
Left behind, Katsuki presses Izuku to the door, face first, and they breathe together for a long few minutes. Shaky, Izuku rests his cheek against the wood and catalogues all the shivers and shakes in his body, and the way Katsuki ducks his nose down to rest in his green hair.
“Well, we did it.” Izuku says to him. He’s tugged backwards and waddled to the couch, where they collapse on top of one another and soak each other in.
Katsuki lets out a long slow breath. The only action that showed how tense he’d been.
“I love you.” Izuku plants his lips on what parts he can reach.
“Love you too.”
That night they make love, slowly, with interlocked hands and overstimulated tears on Izuku’s eyelashes.
~
~
~
Step three, open discussion, a little shaky but they’re getting there.
~
~
~
It takes three days, just three normal days of regular work, and then it’s a Tuesday morning. Leaning against Izuku’s desk, Katsuki is bothering him while he tries to do paperwork, nudging everything over two inches, poking at his ears, snickering when Izuku flaps his irritated hands at him.
Eijirou finds them there and puts a bashful hand behind his neck.
“So?” Katsuki asks, wanting a damn answer.
Izuku smacks him and earns a cuff back. Before they can get into their childish slapping he’d seen before, Eijirou laughs.
“Well, how does Thursday night work for you? Let’s go to dinner.” His cheeks are pink, but his smile is honest. Wide green eyes snap to him, as do red ones, and there’s a breathless pause.
“It works!” Izuku half shouts, lurching out of his seat. Katsuki snags a hand onto his hero uniform and shoves him back down.
“We’ll pick you up.” Katsuki says, offering.
“No,” Eijirou’s smile turns a little different, in a way they’d never seen before. It was confident, and heavy, and dark. “I’m taking you out. Be ready at seven.”
“Kay.” Izuku breathes. And Katsuki artfully tries to look like he didn’t just swallow, hard.
Striding away, Eijirou tells his heart to calm down, and mentally pats himself on the back.
They go to dinner, and nothing is really different. Perhaps they were more handsy, Katsuki trapped one of Eijirou’s feet between his under the table, and Eijirou just couldn’t help putting his hand on Izuku’s thigh constantly, grasping it, letting the flesh bulge between his fingers. With an ever-present blush, Izuku shyly thanks Eijirou for paying, and leans up on his toes to press another kiss to his strong jaw. On Eijirou’s other side, Katsuki playfully puts his hand on his back and slides it down, skimming over his ass.
“Y-yeah,” Eijirou says, flushed. “I had a good time.”
“Got Sunday off?” Katsuki asks before they part, Izuku clutching tight to his hand.
“Uh, yeah, the afternoon. I’m seeing my mums in the morning.”
“Sick.” Katsuki’s next grin is confident, interest, eyes pinning Eijirou down. “We’re going to the aquarium to look at the sharks.”
Both Izuku and Eijirou gasp.
“No way!” They say together, before blinking at one another and giggling into laughter. Proud of himself, Katsuki plans the best fucking date these idiots have ever been on, and everything goes smoothly.
Boldly, Katsuki takes Eijirou’s hand, linking Izuku under his other arm as they wander int eh darkened hallway that was walled by aquarium glass, as his two idiots stare in amazement at the thousands of fish.
A shark passes by, and Eijirou’s hand squeezes his. He squeezes back, and ignores how Eijirou’s happy little smile, pressed into glass, makes him feel. (No, he doesn’t ignore it, but if he thinks too long, he might just pounce right there and that would be a PR nightmare).
Eijirou kisses them for the first time in front of a tank of glowing jellyfish, leaning down to sweetly kiss Izuku into warm goo, and then curling a hand around Katsuki to pull him in too. He’s careful not to bump Katsuki’s aids, where they hung over his ear, but he cradles his skull in his large hand in a way that was completely foreign to Katsuki. Leaning against his sides, Izuku and Katsuki exchange warm, knowing glances with one another, Izuku’s cheek bulged up on Eijirou’s pec and Katsuki’s chin on his collar bone. They both feel Eijirou breathe out shakily but tighten his grip on them.
It’s a great day.
When it’s his turn, Izuku doesn’t make food (he’s not good at it), but he does make cookies. Sugar cookies. Half were decorated in black with a large orange X, and the rest in a lovely dark red to match Eijirou’s hair and costume, lined with black to mimic his head gear. They’re perfect, he thinks, as he grins down at them.
Then the doorknob turns with the key inside, and he leaps sideways to slam it on Katsuki’s face.
“Wait!” He shrills, cursing the fact that they live together. “Don’t come in yet!” He flounders, fluttering around, packaging cookies into cute little bags with tied ribbons and hand-written notes while Katsuki swears at him from the hallway.
“You have five seconds!” Katsuki snarls, counting them down. Sweating, Izuku unties and throws his apron just in time before his husband-boyfriend enters, growling like a demon.
“You’re home early!” Izuku complains but accepts the rough noogie in punishment.
“Fuck you,” Katsuki growls just to be contrary. He pretends he doesn’t see the baking gear in the sink and goes to shower to let Izuku clean.
When presented with the neatly wrapped cute fucking parcels, Eijirou gets misty eyed, and Katsuki grins. They open them together, reading their notes while Izuku shuffles his feet and blushes, wondering if he should escape before he melts into an embarrassed puddle.
“Izu!” Eijirou cries, throwing his big burly arms around Izuku and mashing his head down to his shoulder. God, he’s huge. Izuku revels in it, giggling slightly.
“You like them?”
“We love them.” Katsuki answers for them both, and then Izuku’s being squashed between four pectorals of incredible squishiness. He’s ready to keel over right there.
He’s kissed by Katsuki, who has a large hand cupped under his chin to tilt him back for it, and then when Katsuki releases him, Eijirou replaces him and it’s so different but so good. The teeth. The teeth.
“Kacchan you were right,” Izuku says afterwards, dazed and depending on them to keep him standing. “The teeth.”
“Fuckin’ A.” Katsuki grins at Eijirou, who turns a light pink.
Of course, there’s hard days. Izuku comes back to the apartment quiet and hurting, not physically, but bowed under the weight of his own expectations coupled with the nation’s. All Might’s successor and all that. He wasn’t fast enough today, or strong enough. Not in the way he thought mattered.
Katsuki, stained with sweat and smoke, is still half dressed in his costume. He couldn’t be assed to remove it all, not when Deku was drifting about half out of his mind. He walks him home, aching and slow, and he sets the shower running. Izuku doesn’t even say a word, merely starts stripping, gaze on the floor.
Texting Eijirou to bring take out, Katsuki does his best.
Arriving, Eijirou is as solemn as the other two, informed. Gesturing him in, Katsuki takes the food and plates it, and the shower water stops.
Katsuki enters the hallway and the bathroom, leaving Eijirou to stand in their living room and feel useless. When Izuku comes out, dressed in Katsuki’s large clothes, he’s not smiling, and he can’t even fake any of his usual cheer for Eijirou. Not that he wants it. Instead, he leans down and kisses his forehead, and they eat dinner together quietly, talking about nonsensical things.
“Leave the dishes.” Katsuki grunts, walking them both to the couch and forcing Izuku into a warm blanket. He’s bundled down protesting between Katsuki’s thighs, and the blond flicks his chin at Eijirou to take the other side of the couch.
With his large warm hands around Izuku’s ankles, Eijirou watches with growing interest as Izuku is massaged into submission, touching and gentled and kissed into a strange sort of daze, like the one he had been at the nightclub a few weeks ago.
“That’s right, baby.” Katsuki murmurs, low and soft. “We’re right here.”
Izuku melts. He’s crying silent tears and soothed by Katsuki’s lips, his fingertips, and Eijirou is witness to the way Izuku just, lets himself be cradled and coddled, to how Katsuki does his level best to kiss away his pain. Sniffing, Izuku wipes his face on the blanket like a child does, blinking his eyes open to pout at Eijirou. He kicks his foot and whines.
Eijirou turns to Katsuki.
“Come over here, idiot.” Katsuki translates, rolling his eyes, holding Izuku tightly, with a hand working over Izuku’s face without protest, cleaning off wet cheeks, drifting over his eyes to press them shut. Izuku seems to let him do anything to him like this, trusting and open, and Eijirou really does want to know how to do that. How to comfort him like that. How to comfort Katsuki when he needs it.
As it is, Eijirou works his way forward, feeling large and ungainly. He finds a good spot, cuddling in, wrapping himself as best he can around Izuku’s burrito, his legs dangling off the edge of the couch because he just doesn’t fit most Japanese couches nowadays.
Izuku hums happily, nudging his nose against what he can reach of Eijirou, and Katsuki puts his hand in red hair, breaking up the gel with a vengeance.
Grunting, cause that’s pulling a bit too many hairs there Kat, Eijirou cuddles in and they watch a comforting movie together, relaxing against the rough day. There's an odd thump, and he glances at his feet to see the massive cat Don standing there, narrow eyed and tail whipping. He looks on the verge of making a snack out of Eijirou's toes, so he's on edge, wondering if he should harden his feet just in case. After some time staring him down, Don gives him mercy and works his fat way into the space behind Izuku's knees, curling up and turning into a ball of purrs. It's enormously relaxing, even for Eijirou.
“Thanks, Eiji. Kacchan.” Izuku tells them as the movie plays, half mesmerized by the gentle caresses, the warmth. Katsuki grunts, and Eiji presses a kiss once more to Izuku’s face, feeling blessed to be there at all.
After that, Eijirou’s often over at their place.
They go out on separate dates. Izuku and Eijirou, Eijirou and Katsuki.
Izuku and Eijirou go on a walk through the city’s butterfly gardens, holding hands, giggling, sneaking cute little kisses. Sharing an ice cream, Izuku lets himself lean against the shade Eijirou cast with his body and sneaks a shy hand into his back pocket. Earning a kiss to the top of the head, he grins up at Eijirou who beams down at him.
Katsuki takes Eijirou to his current favorite hike, where he challenges him to a race to the top. It leaves them both puffing and sweaty, but feeling victorious despite his hair-split loss, Eijirou slaps a cheeky hand to Katsuki’s ass and accepts being pinned in a wrestling hold that was a bit too gropy to be legal.
One evening when none of them particularly feel like going out, they curl up on the couch with an old movie Izuku’s seen at least eighteen times (and knows every word), and Katsuki forces Eijirou to lie back, places Izuku between his thighs to lean against him, and then puts himself in Izuku’s lap to get his hair played with. It’s so comfortable, and warm, and good, they don’t quite know how to articulate it. Maybe they don’t really need to. It was obvious that they were all dating, and it was going well, it didn’t need to move any faster than it was.
Izuku sneaks Eijirou’s hand into the blond nest and they take turns scratching Katsuki into submission. Breathing in deeply, Izuku closes his eyes and enjoys shy, wet little kisses that draw a line from his ear down his neck to his shoulder, where sharp teeth make little nips.
Red eyes stare up at them, heated, but they don’t go any further.
Eijirou kisses them goodbye at the door, good naturedly shaking his head at a coy offer to stay and leaves them both with smarting lips.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Eijirou purrs, licking from Izuku’s mouth to Katsuki’s, trading their spit together.
“Okay,” Izuku whines, trying not to seem disappointed, but letting Eijirou kiss his forehead sweetly.
As soon as Eijirou closes the door behind himself, Katsuki has Izuku pressed against it again and stripped him, working his way inside with spit and all the prep they had that morning when he’d been fucked right out of sleep (agreed upon the night before, of course).
Katsuki hisses and fucks forward hard, digging his forehead into the wood of the door and imagining Eijirou’s mouth on his.
“Kacchan,” Izuku cries out, hand working on his cock and imagining it was Eijirou’s. “Eiji!”
“Fuck, I know, baby,” Katsuki answers, and they’re coming together in large, wracking shivers, somehow knowing what the other was thinking.
On the other side of the door, never having left, Eijirou ignores the tension in his pants and grins at the hallway’s ugly ceiling.
~
~
~
Step four, dating, successful.
~
~
~
Out of the three of them, for some unknown reason, it’s Izuku who’s struggling with waiting for the sex.
He’s pounced on Katsuki after they return home/Eijirou leaves after every single date in the last three weeks. That means six times, Izuku has tripped Katsuki into the bed, onto the couch, once even memorably onto the kitchen floor in order to suck him, fuck him, or ride him into oblivion.
Now, Katsuki’s not complaining about this.
However. He’s getting a little desperate for some god damn help, now that it was available. A tap out, tap in sort of deal, a relay if you will.
Again, in the gym, he makes his move.
He’s spotting Eijirou as be presses, and on the final rep leans in to whisper in his ear.
“You need to fuck Deku before he breaks my dick.”
Eijirou fumbles, and Katsuki snatches the bar to help replace it. He cackles, as Eijirou blinks, dumbfounded, one hand drifting to his shorts to hide the sudden well.
“What?! Dude!” He complains, lips twitching into a helpless smile, “Right in the middle of my lift?!”
“I’m serious,” Katsuki grins passed his amusement, flicking Eijirou’s nose, “he’s desperate for it. Fucking pin him down and wreck him, why don’t you?” He’s trying to be chill about it, but Eijirou was a professional at reading Bakugou Katsuki.
There’s heat in his eyes, a want behind his teeth. Now, they’d played around a lot, confessed some things in hushed whispers, over Izuku’s head, on rooftops, hidden in bathrooms. Eijirou probably knows more about Katsuki than he thinks he does.
“Want to watch?” He boldly asks and sees how the words run their way up Katsuki’s spine.
Katsuki doesn’t answer, merely closes his teeth with a snap. He’s glaring with hot, heavy eyes, challenging him. Raising an eyebrow, Eijirou challenges right back.
“Want to watch me fuck your boyfriend until he cries?” Eijirou says, mentally apologizing to an innocent Izuku (not that innocent, apparently), and greatly enjoys the way Katsuki’s face flattens out into something nearly slack-jawed. “Does that sound good?” He’s victorious, he’s triumphant, fuck he’s hard as a rock and it’s not his quirk.
Eijirou pretends otherwise, nonchalantly tucking his dick up into his waistband to ignore it and reaching for his water bottle. He’s about done, they’re nearly done for the day, he can wait and sit on that arousal until they get home to Izuku and Katsuki’s.
“Yes.” Katsuki leans over to growl in his ear. “Then I’m gonna fuck all your come out of him while he chokes on your dick. Sound good?”
Eijirou realizes that there’s no winning against Katsuki with this, oh no, this is just winning for both of them, constantly.
They nearly run out of the gym, knowing Izuku’s probably just about home.
Katsuki fires off a dirty text to Izuku in their group chat, something along the lines of ‘take a long, thorough shower’, and crowds against Eijirou’s back as they get changed in the agency locker rooms.
“Just a note,” Hawks says cheerfully from where they hadn’t seen him around the locker corner, “If any of you fuck in the agency, Rumi’s gonna sell the security footage to a porn company.”
“Fuck off, you great big turkey!” Katsuki grunts at him, removing his mouth from Eijirou’s neck to do so.
“Hai, hai,” Keigo raises his hands, smirking as they both hustle their way out of the locker room, acting like teenagers.
It’s not even a question that Eijirou just follows Katsuki home, and they let themselves in to find the shower only just shutting off.
A low heat sparks in Eijirou’s belly.
Katsuki’s not in the business of denying himself anything, so he herds Eijirou backwards into the hallway. As they pass the bathroom, he shouts over Eijirou’s snickering laughter.
“Hurry the fuck up, nerd!” His grin is savage, but the grip he had on Eijirou’s tank was rougher.
“Wah-cchan!” Comes from the bathroom, and a bottle is knocked over. Eijirou laughs and is backed into the bedroom to be shoved to sit on the edge of the bed.
Leaning down, Katsuki captures his lips and groans into his mouth. Smiling against his teeth, Eijirou happily lets him feed from him, hands on his narrow hips. With a rough yank, Eijirou’s shirt is pulled up and off him, leaving him in his grey sweats. Katsuki puts his knee on the bed between Eijirou’s thighs, brushing against his growing erection.
“Fuck yeah, Kat,” Eijirou groans when the blond works him over, fists in his gelled hair. Apparently, he’s loud, because across the hall, Izuku squeals again, knocking something over again.
“Idiot.” Katsuki mutters, but he’s not sure if it’s to Eijirou or Izuku.
The door flies open and Izuku slides his way into the bedroom. His hair is half-dry, and he’s got a towel around his hips. Eyes wide, Izuku gapes at the two of them
“What took so fucking long?” Katsuki grins. He releases Eijirou, after kissing him so hard he leans back on one hand for balance, and steps back, leaving him heaving in air. Still fully dressed, Katsuki sits down on the Everything Chair (the chair that collects everything, but which was somehow currently empty) and raises an eyebrow.
“Well?” He grins, making a show of getting comfortable, large and imposing and fucking sexy as hell sitting there, dick hard in his trousers.
“Eiji?” Izuku is breathing heavily already, biting his bottom lip, looking shyly between Katsuki and Eijirou. Clambering backwards on the bed to lean against the headboard, Eijirou crooks his fingers at the green haired man, beckoning.
“Come on, Izu,” He grins, turned on as fuck and only a little nervous.
Izuku crawls up onto the bed, somehow hesitant and wanting and so fucking cute it was almost a crime when he reaches out to lightly skim over Eijirou’s chest. He crawls up to meet him, kissing Eijirou sweetly.
Humming, Eijirou cradles his cheeks, moving his lips against the others methodically, not at all like Katsuki’s often ferocious movements.
“Kacchan,” Izuku whines as they break apart, and Eijirou is treated to the slowly settling haze of lust in green eyes. “Kacchan, do you…”
“Yeah, I see.” Katsuki answers him, somehow understanding through a lifetime of Kacchan&Deku. “he wants you, baby, why don’t you show him what you want.” He has a stranglehold of the chair arms.
Eijirou lets his head fall against the headboard as Izuku whines, shivering at the sound of Katsuki’s voice, and at the way his scarred hands drag down Eijirou’s torso. Their lips drag together, not quite kissing, but soaking each other in.
“I’ve wanted this,” Izuku pants hotly, working his hands over the lump in Eijirou’s sweats. He’s a solid line, swelled under the cloth, with a tiny dot of wetness at his tip. Wetness that Izuku drags himself out of Eijirou’s arms to taste right over the pants, and holy fuck.
“Fuck, kitten,” Eijirou groans, head falling back. He hears both Izuku and Katsuki take in a sudden, sharp breath at the pet name, he grins, satisfied. “That’s good. Lick it till its wet.”
Izuku moans against his cock, vibrating with it, and works himself down onto his stomach, knees parting against the bed. His towel slips. Over on the Everything Chair, Katsuki palms himself as he watches, taking in every motion.
Pulling his head back up despite how dizzy with arousal he was, Eijirou can’t seem to choose what to watch, the way Izuku’s neck bent and he moved to suckle up and down over the lump of his cock, wetting his sweats into a dark line, or how Katsuki was gripping himself so harshly over his own pants. It’s a sticky feeling, but the way the cloth seals itself to his cock with Izuku’s drool is hot as fuck.
“Want to stretch him for me, Katsuki?” Eijirou asks, blunt, and wonders at himself where this confidence was coming from. Confidence to ask Izuku’s Katsuki to prepare him for Eijirou’s cock.
Katsuki jolts in his seat, red eyes darting up, he gapes a bit, mouth open. Whining, Izuku is tugging at Eijirou’s sweats, so without even breaking eye contact with Katsuki, Eijirou arches his hips up so the pants can be dragged down and expose his cock. He then takes Izuku’s head in hand and draws him onto the head like his mouth was made for it.
Watching the way blond eyelashes flutter in real time, when Izuku groans like he’s tasting ambrosia, voice muffled by Eijirou’s amply cock, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt so goddamn powerful.
“Yeah. I will.” Katsuki rasps, standing and grabbing the lube from the side table. He kneels up behind Izuku, who absently attempts to help get himself stripped without removing his mouth from his toy (it’s not much help).
Izuku slurps, drawing off to pant hot air and lick, and it sends so many pleasure signals all through Eijirou. Fuck, he’s gonna come if this keeps up. To stay it off a bit, Eijirou replaces his cock in Izuku’s mouth with a few fingers, just to feel the way his tongue moves, and watch how his eyes go half-lidded.
“Kat’s gonna make sure you’re open for me, kitten,” Eijirou whispers for both Izuku’s and Katsuki’s ears, “then I’m gonna fuck you so full. Would you like that?”
“Y-yeah,” Izuku whines around his fingers, clutching at his cock and his wrist, hands flexing as if they were the same thing. “Please Eiji?”
Eijirou has no idea what he’s asking for, to be fucked, to be full, but it’s hot all the same.
Diving in face first, Izuku squeals and bucks when Katsuki puts his teeth in his ass cheek. Sputtering into laughter, despite the lust between them all, Eijirou puts a hand over his eyes when Izuku pouts up at him, watery eyed and silly.
“He bit me!” Izuku says into his palm, licking up one of the fingers. Eijirou can feel his grin against the pads, and Katsuki himself growls, snapping his teeth into the opposite cheek for an equally loud squeal and earning a kick to the gut.
“Who’s the one with the teeth here, Kat?” Eijirou chuckles, running his fingers through green hair. Sighing, Izuku rests his head on Eijirou’s thick thigh, kissing as best he can along the length of his cock. It’s a lot for Eijirou, but it’s also somehow very comforting. Licking between the cheeks to find a furled entrance, Katsuki flicks his eyes upwards to lock with Eijirou’s, eating at Izuku with fervor.
Wow.
Izuku shudders when Katsuki does something with his tongue, and it transfers over into Eijirou’s cock.
Wow.
This was the most sensual, sexy thing that has ever happened to him in his twenty-nine years of life, and it’s only just begun. His stomach flutters, his chest warms, and he buries his fingers in green hair.
Katsuki draws back and works two fingers into Izuku. His other hand is grasping his cheek, so firmly that the flesh bulges out. It’s practiced, familiar, and they’ve clearly done this hundreds and hundreds of times, because Izuku’s head lolls against his thigh and he presses a wet smile to the head of his cock, licking over it lewdly, almost unbothered by Katsuki gripping so tight.
Three fingers and wet with lube, and Eijirou is drawing Izuku off his cock, who whines.
“Fuck him until he cries,” Katsuki growls, demanding, as Izuku is rolled onto his back and a pillow is stuffed beneath his back. Eijirou feels like he’s been brainwashed, or under some spell, because Izuku holds out his arms, his legs part, and Eijirou is falling into them mindlessly, unable to stop.
Stepping back, Katsuki withdraws from the bed and sits on the chair again, and Eijirou shakes the fog off long enough to send him a look, half concerned.
“It’s okay,” Izuku licks his lips, and his mouth is soft and open. His hands draw up Eijirou’s arms and squeeze at the bulges of his muscles. He’s eating him up with his hot, green eyes. “He likes it. He wants to see you fuck me, don’t you Kacchan.”
“Yeah.” His voice is wrecked, his expression open. God, he loves it. He loves it, watching Eijirou spread his boyfriend/husband over his thighs, and line up his cock to the hole he’d stretched himself.
“Just don’t call him a cuck.” Izuku whispers teasingly, eyes sparkling, and Eijirou coughs on spit, laughing.
“Oi, bitch, shut your fat mouth when there’s a monster cock at your slutty little hole.” Katsuki barks, a smile around the harsh words.
“Hmmm,” Izuku hums in pleasure, hips wriggling against Eijirou’s hold, “But if I shut my mouth, you guys won’t be able to hear how much I like it.” He smiles, and its naughty, and Eijirou trembles a tiny bit closer to orgasm.
He presses forward, cock lubed and an angry red. It hardly looked like it would fit, but after some pushing, Izuku is groaning and opening up, legs falling just a but more open. Leaning on his fists, Eijirou hisses as heat envelopes him.
“He’s tight, isn’t he?” Katsuki says from the side, voice slithering into their ears. “Despite how much he loves being fucked.”
“He is.” Eijirou grunts, focusing, working his way back and in, back and in to open him up, careful, gentle.
Katsuki grunts, and there’s a rustle of fabric. He’s fighting his pants down his thighs, drawing ut his own cock. Eijirou’s seen if before, of course he has, they grew up together in the same dorm, the same locker rooms, but he doesn’t think it’s ever looked so beautiful.
He bottoms out.
“Oh my god, Eiji!” Izuku cries out, legs fluttering over his arms, eyes tightly closed.
“You good?” Eijirou tries to check, gasping in air. “Izu, you good, kitten?”
“Eiji, oh my god, you’re huge.” Izuku breathes, trembling, head rolling a bit on the mattress. His eyes blink open, and he takes in the way Eijirou leans, big and burly, all over him. He smiles, vacantly, already looking like he’s been fucked hard. “You’re so big.”
Eijirou bites his lip and tries a tentative thrust. It makes Izuku’s smile widen, makes his legs fall open just that bit more.
Izuku groans, and the noise makes Eijirou fuck forward a bit harder than he intended. And then he’s working on fucking him, really pulling back to his head and then fucking forward, finding the best angle.
“He’s so big, Kacchan,” Izuku pants, hands fluttering at Eijirou’s arms, shoulders, and chest.
“Is it, that good?” Eijirou can’t help asking, half of his brain busy with the way Izuku took his cock so damn well, panting.
“Yes,” Katsuki replies, voice almost wrecked. He’s got his cock out and pumping it, sprawled messily in the chair, eyes fixed on them. “He likes that you’re huge. That you can just blanket him. That you can throw him around and fuck him so full and he can’t move. a. fucking. inch.” Sounds like Katsuki enjoyed that a lot too.
“Holy fuck,” Eijirou curses, fucking, working his hips. Sucking in air, Izuku groans with it, hips working in tandem, and he’s grasping Eijirou’s hand where he held his leg up and out of the way.
“Fuck him!” Katsuki groans.
“Fuck me!” Izuku cries, tears streaking down over his temples.
Eijirou’s gonna go insane at this rate.
He rolls Izuku to take him sideways, in a position that really made his cock feel massive as it works its way in and out of his body. He’s sweating, his knees keep slipping too far apart, but his every move feels so fucking good. Katsuki’s eyes bore into him, into Izuku, and that’s where he discovers the angle here that makes Izuku jerk, that brushes over his prostate on almost every pass.
Izuku wails, grasping at the blankets, and is fucked so hard he bounces against Eijirou’s hold.
“Holy shit,” Katsuki chokes out, grasping the base of his cock and his balls in his other hand, rolling them. “You’re fucking him so good, Eiji, take him.”
Eijirou lets his head fall back and follows the order, gritting his teeth, grasping Izuku’s arm and using it as leverage to fuck him better.
“Yes!” Izuku cries into the bedding, leg flopping. “Eiji, Kacchan, oh god.”
It’s a testament to Eijirou’s desperation that Izuku comes first.
He’s felt on the cusp of orgasm for ages now, but damnit all, he wants to feel the way Izuku tightens up when he comes. So, he leans on one hand, hovering over Izuku, turning him to his back once more, bending him open, and reaching for his cock with the other hand. He tugs at him, awkward and badly angled, sweating, his hips still slamming back and in and in, and in, yes, fuck, and Izuku is yelling his name. He screws himself up around Eijirou, scrambling at him, crying out.
He’s coming, and it just looks incredibly intense. He’s shuddering into pieces in Eijirou’s arms and yet tugging him forward, asking for more.
Red eyes roll back, as Eijirou starts fucking in hard, sharp thrusts, heading for a goal, looking for his own climax. He wants to come. And he’s going to come inside.
“Yes,” Izuku whines, shuddering, open and relaxed. “Yes!”
“Fuck yeah, fill him, Eiji, fill him!” Katsuki stumbles off the chair and forward, kneeling up on the bed to Izuku’s side. His eyes are wide and desperate, in a way he’d never seen before.
“Fuck, you’re both so…” Eijirou fucks too hard then. He’s flattening Izuku’s legs, he didn’t know he was that flexible. The green haired man clenches, twitching, drawing one hand up his belly and chest. Katsuki hovers close by, groaning, devouring every change in Eijirou’s face.
“Come-coming!” Eijirou flexes, jerking. Pleasure zings, and his vision whites out.
Katsuki slams his mouth over Eijirou’s and swallows his groan when the shark-toothed man bottoms out and comes in Izuku. His fist is flying over his cock, Katsuki’s holding it over Izuku’s blissed out face, and they part just in time to look down and watch him come all over him.
“Mnn, oh, Kacchan, Eiji,” Izuku sighs, eyes fluttering with a string of seed laying over his lashes. He licks his lips, reaching his tongue up to catch a tiny amount off his top lip. “That’s good.” His hole is hot, brightened into a lovely red from the friction of Eijirou’s cock, so when he pulls back, both he and Katsuki get to watch as white trickles out after, contrasting sharply with his flushed skin.
Scarred hands reach down and part his cheeks, framing it, and Izuku grins a bit lopsidedly at them both. God he’s gorgeous.
“Slutty, Deku, real slutty,” Katsuki attempts to sneer, but it sounds like praise instead. He’s leaning down, collapsing beside him and kissing him senseless, licking at his own come on the other’s face. Izuku reaches out with one hand for Eijirou, and he collapses on his other side, joining in to lick him clean.
“This is so gross,” Eijirou groans against a freckled cheek, sucking it into his mouth to tease with his teeth. He’s really careful, but it’s a great feeling the way the skin frees itself from his mouth when Izuku laughs.
“Haah?!” Katsuki’s head snaps up, “You calling my come gross?!”
“All come is gross, Kacchan.” Izuku soothes with practiced, sassy ease.
Snorting, Eijirou laughs at them both, accepting Izuku’s rolling cuddle with a grin and a warm hug, and then Katsuki’s pout makes him reach out and drag him in too. They squirm and poke and laugh at each other, ignoring the mess they just smeared along each other.
Fuck yeah, that was good.
And the way Katsuki was biting his way across Izuku’s shoulder, grinding up against his back hard enough it pushes him against Eijirou, it was about to get even better.
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Step five, sex, exceedingly successful.
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Six months later, and Eijirou’s about to cancel his lease, he spends so much more time at their place than his own.
Coming out to their friends during Todoroki’s semi-monthly game night (which was weird in of itself) was all well and good, until Ochako rolled her eyes and snorted at them, saying she knew it the moment Katsuki had dropped Izuku into Eijirou’s lap.
“Are you kidding?” She returns after he blows up at her a bit, as the rest of them watch. “If anyone else dared to touch Zukkun when he’s like that, you’d chew off their hands at the wrist. Tell me I’m wrong!” She challenges, and Katsuki can only huff.
Eijirou gets many a pat on the back, congratulations, and commiserations on dealing with not only Katsuki’s sex drive, but Izuku’s truly lethal amount of adorableness.
He doesn’t tell them that it’s often somewhat the other way around.
Katsuki surprises them all one day, when the other two are on patrol, by replacing their queen bed with a large Alaskan king, refusing to give them the price he paid for it. It damn near stretches over the entire bedroom, and the blankets are an incredible soft bamboo that makes Izuku groan in pleasure when he sinks into it.
Waking in the morning, all three of them comfortable and warm, Izuku is half asleep still when Katsuki climbs his way out, leaving behind kisses on his forehead and a pet to red hair. Grumbling, Eijirou shifts with the change in weight in the mattress, turning to spoon behind Izuku like a great big dog, nose digging behind his ear and huffing out hot air.
Immediately, Izuku sinks back into a content, safe, sleep, and Katsuki looks at them from the doorway, heart aflame.
He makes breakfast.
Don sits like a behemoth beside his bowl and glares at him, one paw threatening to start knockign it about. Try it, cat. Katsuki would make Catsudon for dinner. (He feeds the fucking cat). An hour later, he hears shuffling in the hallway and looks to see Eijirou dragging his feet, carrying a sleepy-eyed Izuku out from the bedroom, legs locked around his hips.
“Morning,” Eijirou yawns, leaning over to drop Izuku into Katsuki’s lap. He gives them both a kiss, and Katsuki doesn’t even wrinkle his nose at the shared morning breath.
Scratching at his bare stomach, Eijirou makes an interested noise at the sight of food, fixing himself and Izuku plates.
With Izuku in his arms, a coffee in hand, Katsuki watches his other love sit with a thud and a groan, cracking his back obnoxiously at the table.
“I love you.” Katsuki says, and it’s for both of them.
Izuku raises his head and kisses his cheek, then leans his head there to smile, heartfelt at Eijirou.
“I love you two, too.” He says, petting his scarred knobby hands over Katsuki’s shoulders, massaging like he does in that way that inspired Eijirou into calling him kitten.
Under their stares, Eijirou swallows his unholy large bite of egg.
“Love you both, too,” He beams, eyes scrunching with little crows’ feet at the corners. His hair’s down. He seems almost too large to be sitting at their table so cheerfully. He’s too pure to have fucked them both unconscious last night.
Hell.
Katsuki didn’t know he could have this much love inside him for more than just Deku, but here they all fucking are.
Eating breakfast with Kirishima Eijirou.
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