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It was supposed to be Katsuki’s day off.
He’s not usually starved for off days, since working in the porn industry as a boom operator made his schedule a little flexible, but after a full four day outdoor shoot for a wedding themed porno—spending half of it trying to evade their new recruit Camie from dragging him into the orgy finale—believe him when he says he's never been more exhausted, passing out as soon as he got into his apartment at three in the morning, ready to hibernate the next two days away.
That is, until he wakes up to a few missed calls from Kirishima and a helpful string of texts that said ‘got solo cast shoot with deku. hes new. im sick n cant come. Help me pls minas gonna bust my balls if i miss it. Tomorrow 8am. sorry brooooo thank u lov u owe u’
Katsuki fucking knew it. He could tell there was something wrong with the seafood platter at the hotel the other night and pointedly avoided it, much to the rest of the crew's chagrin.
The good thing is that he didn't eat it, or else he'd also be stuck in the bathroom like the rest of the sorry lot.
Bad thing is, he can't even gloat about it, because now he's the only one available to do the work. That aside, who the fuck books a porn shoot at eight in the fucking morning?
He curses, thumbing through his phone and scowling at another handful of missed calls, a couple being from Mina herself. There's a pinned location of the shoot sent just twenty minutes before, and a final text from her that pleaded ‘be nice’.
Fuck you, Katsuki thinks as he grudgingly drives over to the studio to grab the camera equipment. He can be nice.
When he gets to the shoot location, some rundown apartment complex that’s really only used for shady shit like porn shoots or drug dealing, there’s already someone waiting outside by the steps. The guy’s glancing back and forth from his phone to the streets and swinging nervously on the balls of his feet, stiffening up when he notices Katsuki’s car approaching.
He’s wearing a skinny pair of jeans that looks like it belongs in the past decade, an over-sized ratty university shirt (that’s not his actual university shirt, isn’t it?), and lugging a ragged yellow backpack and bright red shoes. The ensemble is enough to make Katsuki's head ache.
Good thing he'll be naked in about five minutes.
The guy runs his hands over his pants, looking awfully young as his fluffy hair bounces as he waits for Katsuki to walk up to the complex. Christ, how old was he?
When Katsuki approaches though, he notices that they’re actually quite close in age. The guy looks like he’s in his early twenties, with baby fat still clinging to his freckled cheeks, and the brightest doe green eyes Katsuki’s ever seen. The guy bites his lip unconsciously in nervousness and Katsuki face falls when he realizes the guy's actually fucking hot despite his disaster of an outfit.
“Hey!” Katsuki calls out to him. “You here for the shoot? Pinky Studios.”
The guy perks up, looking like a deer in the headlights, and nods his head. He's blushing. He's cute, too. Katsuki is in deep shit.
The guy falls into step behind him, the multitude of keychains strapped to his backpack jingling as he walks, and mechanically follows Katsuki as he patters down the hall.
"You know who I am?" Katsuki asks when they get to the unit.
"I-ah, er-yes,” the guy stutters through, shifting nervously in place as Katsuki fiddles with the keys on the lock, “Kirishima?"
"Not me," Katsuki says as he finally turns the knob and gets inside, snorting at the other's alarmed yelp. “Kiri couldn't make it. I'm Katsuki.”
The unit is unassuming, spotless and sparsely decorated. It’s a studio with a king-sized bed right in the center of the room. There’s a basket full of snacks and toiletries that he’ll probably steal from once the shoot is over and a handful of condoms and lube by the nightstand. Seems like Mina had already given the unit owner a heads up at least, which is a good thing because Katsuki hadn’t brought a single thing except for his wallet and camera equipment.
And, judging by the way the guy is currently floundering around by the doorframe, Katsuki doubts he’s brought anything useful either.
He dumps his bag on the adjacent sofa and rummages for his phone, glancing quickly at the text Kirishima had sent him regarding the shoot and slips it back into his pocket. He fishes for his wallet next and tosses his company card to the guy, who still looks like he's ready to bolt out the door any second now.
“You’re Deku, yeah?” He sends him a look and nudges his head to the bed. “Sit there and make yourself pretty while I set this up.”
Deku pauses just as the door slams closed, his eyebrows shooting up comically from the card to Katsuki, staring at him and blubbering like a fish out of water. “E-excuse me?”
“What?”
“Did you just call me Deku?”
“Yeah?” Katsuki lifts a brow at him. He takes his phone out and checks the message again for good measure. Yep, he was right. It did say Deku. “What? Not my fault your mother gave you a weird ass name.”
“Because that’s not my name,” Deku says meekly, the red on his face heightening. “It’s… Izuku.”
Katsuki goes ‘ah’, but he can’t really feel too bad about reading it wrong. The indignant look on Izuku's face is a little too pleasing to pass up, and Katsuki’s always been a little shit.
“Eh, Deku suits you better.” He shrugs, smirk high on his face at Izuku’s sputtering. “This your first time, yeah? Bet you don’t even have a stage name made up.”
Izuku mutely blinks back at him.
“Figured." Katsuki rolls his eyes. "Use that when you’re introducing yourself later.”
Izuku stammers out a meek protest, but it all falls on deaf ears when Katsuki ignores him and fusses with the camera. He’s not familiar with it, especially with the tripod that it came with, and it takes awhile to set it up.
He’s just managed to get it to focus on the Izuku’s round face, who is now sitting at the edge of the bed, when Izuku crosses his arms and pouts, muttering, “…okay, Kacchan.”
Katsuki pauses screwing on the tripod lock. “What did you just say?”
“Kacchan,” Izuku repeats, looking cutely (no it wasn’t) petulant as he stares pointedly at the full basket of condoms to the left. “It’s only fair. If I get a nickname then you get one, too.”
Katsuki’s a hairsbreadth away from arguing further, but he’s too tired to put any heat into it. “Whatever. You know what to do, right? Seen this type of shit enough to know the flow?”
“Um, yeah.” Izuku nods, a little bit more confidently. “Mina gave me a briefing yesterday when we had the interview. Solo video, no face.”
“Huh,” Katsuki muses. He didn’t know anything about making faceless content. He went into the shoot with the assumption they’d be doing a regular casting video. “You shy or...?”
Izuku shrivels underneath his gaze, a fine dusting of pink etching its way across his face, all the way to the tips of his ears. “It’s just-you were right. It’s actually my first time doing this,” he says as he bites his lip. “Mina said we could ease into it.”
He scans over Izuku’s frame, narrowing his eyes at his face. It’s not like he didn’t have the looks for it, and the viewers would probably eat up the virginal act. He shrugs. Whatever. It’s their loss.
He tilts the camera down. “Got it. Anyway, flow’s like this-I ask you a question, you answer, then you jerk off. View is from your neck to the top half of your legs. I already got the angle fixed so don’t go squirming like a worm on the bed ‘cos I don’t wanna have to adjust it. Got any questions of your own before we start?”
Izuku shakes his head, looking a little too eager to get it all over with. Katsuki gets it.
He makes a few minor adjustments to the camera, angling it just slightly below Izuku’s jaw. With how much Izuku fidgeted in place however, flashes of his hair and his chin peeked out anyway into the frame. Katsuki figures they can deal with it, as long as majority of the footage showed off his body it should be okay.
Katsuki wasn’t a casting agent or a director. They all knew this wasn’t his forte, so the least they could do was cut him some slack.
"Right, this should be fine.” He presses the record button and nods to Izuku, all the while keeping his gaze fixed onto the screen. “Go ahead and introduce yourself."
“Oh, already? Um," Izuku stammers, waving shyly at the camera. He nervously fidgets with the ends of his shirt as he talks. "H-hi! I'm Deku and I'm 23 years old. I’m from Musutafu. I graduated from Aldera High and I’m currently doing my bachelor’s at Yuuei studying-"
Katsuki slams the stop button. "What the-this isn’t a goddamn job interview-," he barks and then catches himself. "Never mind, it is, but there’s no need for all that shit. What’s next, you gonna give me your social security number, too?"
"Oh... sorry, was I going too fast?” Izuku bites his lip again and Katsuki tracks it like a dog to a bone. “I’ll talk slower."
“And talk less,” Katsuki reminds him with as much patience as he can muster. "This ain’t corporate, no need to say all that shit. Name, age, place is enough.” He presses the record button again. “Introduce yourself.”
"Oh! Okay, I got it. Um, hi! My name's Izuku, but you can call me Deku,” Izuku tries again, carefully maintaining eye contact with the camera even when it isn’t recording his face. “I’m 23 years old and I’m from Musutafu.”
Katsuki nods. "So what’re you here for, Deku," he drawls.
He hopes his voice sounds pleasing enough. Mina always said he sounded like he smoked ten packs a day, which wasn't normally an issue because he’s never had to direct anything before. After all, his job was to hold a mic over two people going at it and record them screaming their heads off.
The last thing the viewers needed was someone croaking in their ears as they were trying to jack off (though he figures some may be into that).
Izuku sits up at his question, seemingly more fired up. "Well, it’s a long story actually! You know, my cat's always been the sickly type, and recently it contracted this disease from going outside. I did my best to bolt all my windows and doors shut but Mighty’s just such an escape artist. It’s-it’s okay, though, ‘cos at least it isn’t a serious illness, but it’s still hitting him pretty hard, so the vet bills are racking up. I’m a little strapped for cash at the moment and my job doesn't really pay enough, so I've been looking around. One of my friends told me this could be an easy gig, doesn’t pay as much as the real thing obviously but it paid decently.”
He pauses, taking Katsuki’s flabbergasted stare as a sign to keep going, and continues animatedly. “Also, I’m graduating in a few months and there’s a lot of school fees I need to pay off for my clearance and I'm still trying to balance all that on top of what I'm currently paying for my new place and my cat. And recently my mom got sick too, so-"
"Hey! Whoa whoa whoa, hey," Katsuki cuts him off when he finally manages to break out of his stupor, flailing his arms around and pressing the stop button. "Jesus, you-we don't need a fucking sob story! What the hell?"
"It's-it's what you asked for though," Izuku honestly replied. God bless his innocent heart. “What was I supposed to say?”
"I don't fucking know! Invent something? Didn’t Mina tell you anything?”
“She said to just be myself,” Izuku grumbles.
Katsuki should’ve fucking known by her text that she wasn’t going to be any help either.
He palms at his head. “That shit sounded depressing as fuck. You're gonna flag down the viewers before they can even get their dick wet."
“Well, I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. I-they didn’t give me any scripts.” Izuku huffs. "Maybe you can tell me what I should say?"
"And why the fuck would I do that?"
Izuku tilts his head. "Aren’t you the producer?"
"I don't write the fucking script!" Katsuki groans. "I work the shitty boom mic I don’t-Christ, fine, just- fuck, I don’t know, say you're going on a trip to Cabo for spring break and you want some extra pocket money."
Izuku's brow furrows, his face twisting into a frown as he says, "But that makes me sound real shallow."
“Like the viewers give a shit? They just wanna see some dick,” Katsuki mutters as he runs a tired hand over his locks. He glances at his watch. Nearly ten minutes have passed and not a single piece of usable footage filmed. “Whatever. I’m not re-filming this. Pinky can cry about it in post-prod.”
He slams the record button again.
If they ended up wanting to use the footage it’s going to be a disaster with how choppy the editing will have to be, but Katsuki can’t give a damn. At the end of the day the both of them will be paid (if they can even finish on time) and Mina’s just going to have to deal with it.
He stares at Izuku as the little red button at the top-left of the screen blinks red. Izuku only stares back, looking resolute.
“Don’t you have anything better than a trip to Cabo?” He asks weakly.
Katsuki groans. “You think of anything?” He challenges. “Look, we only got fifty more minutes to rent this place. We go even one second longer and that damned shark of a landlord is gonna charge us the entire day. I just need you to say you’re going to Cabo, whip your dick out for a hundred dollars, and bust a nut. That sound simple enough for you?”
Izuku bites his bottom lip again. Katsuki jaw tightens.
“Okay,” Izuku breathes out. “Fine. But um, I'm changing it to Los Angeles.”
Katsuki sends him a skeptical glance, before waving it off. "Whatever works for you," he says, and turns his attention back to the camera. “I already know who you are so... again, what’re you here for, Deku.”
Izuku sniffs, crossing his legs and his arms and turning his head to the side. Great, so now he chooses to be cheeky. "My friends and I are planning to go to LA for, uh, that hero convention that's happening on the 5th," he says dumbly. Oh god, he was a nerd, too. Mina really scored the jackpot with this virgin, didn't she? “I’m kinda strapped for cash so I figured this was a good way to earn a little extra, you know?"
"And you think porn's the way to go about it. That's rich. What happened to doing shifts?" Katsuki scoffs behind the camera. “Sounds kinda shallow if you ask me.”
Izuku blubbers around like a guppy. “But you-!”
“Go on then,” Katsuki goads him on. “Continue. Oh, and take your clothes off while you're at it.”
There was probably a better way of playing the scene out, something a little more guided and finessed, especially for a greenhorn like Izuku. Kirishima always knew how to set the tone for their casting shoots, so he's been the go-to person for them. Too bad for Izuku that he got saddled with Katsuki instead.
Sero, their editor, is probably gonna hack a lung from laughing later when the clips are being processed.
Izuku, bless his heart, doesn't know any better and goes along with his whims anyway. “As I was saying-"
Katsuki knows Izuku’s talking. Yeah, he’s not deaf. Judging by the way he was yapping earlier about his sick cat and about how broke he was, Izuku's got a motor mouth that could really get going when needed. Katsuki can hear him chattering away, but barely anything is getting registered by his brain. Right now his words were flowing in one ear and out the other in a millisecond. You couldn’t fault him for being a little distracted, not with the way Izuku was wiggling around as he chittered all the while peeling piece after piece of clothing.
Katsuki whistles low when he’s flashed a set of toned abs and arms. Izuku's got a couple nicks and bruises in some parts but nothing too bad. Looks like he's actually pretty active, and Katsuki feels like he's got whiplash. What the fuck was he—a nerd or an athlete?
Izuku waves his arm around as he talks, stretching it out. Katsuki didn’t really expect the conversation to veer towards nerd territory, and he's not particularly enthused about having to hear someone talk about superheroes while he's trying to get his rocks off, but he can’t help but think it’s working for their current situation anyway. Izuku moves his arm in circular motions as he punches and mimics iconic moves, stretching the muscle taut and accentuating all the fine ridges of his chest and shoulders. Fuck, he had a nice body. Too bad the dude was probably straight.
Katsuki's eyes rake towards his lower half, at the tight jeans that almost seemed to be tearing at the seams, and wondered what else the nerd had packing.
"Turn around and show me your ass."
What?
Katsuki's like a dog, you know. They can't just wave steak right in front of his face and not expect him to take a bite.
Not like anybody's watching anyway.
"Huh?" Izuku startles when he's cut off mid-solo conversation. What was he even talking about at that point? "Um-how-"
"Just turn around and moon me."
"Oh-okay." Izuku stiffly nods as he stands up and bends over. He shimmies his pants down, tight printed briefs on display (even his underwear is hero merchandise). It’s barely hanging by the thread with the way it stretches over his fat ass.
He seems to be on autopilot because his motor mouth doesn’t stop even as he’s shucking off his jeans and throwing it to the side. "Um, anyways, there's that concert for the Wild Wild Pussycats that's happening the weekend after the convention, too," he prattles on. He's clearly aware of Katsuki's intense gaze on him, with the way his eyes flicker back and forth between the head board and behind him. He's skimming his hands over his thighs again, taking deep breaths as he arches his back and continues talking, "I kinda need the funds for that one as well, but of course, my cat Mighty comes first. Oh, that's actually where his name is from, you know, from the series Golden Age of-"
Katsuki's brain promptly fizzes out the white noise when his eyes immediately honed in on Izuku's tight ass, right in the center, right where his hole was, because instead of it being smooth the cloth there was slightly raised, something nestled in there that caused it to poke out slightly. The idea of it made his cock twitch just so, his breath hitching as he realized, because it looked like— “a fucking plug?”
“-and anyway, hotel costs always shoot up when there's a big event happening close by and-” Izuku pauses at Katsuki’s question. “I’m-excuse me. Sorry?”
“Are you wearing a fucking plug?” Katsuki repeats, swallowing hard, his mouth feeling awfully dry all of a sudden. “Did Mina tell you to wear that?”
“Ah, no, she didn’t,” Izuku says. “She, um, told me this was going to be a solo video.”
“Yeah, I was told the same thing,” Katsuki says, “so why do you have a fucking plug on.”
“Because this is how I usually… get off?” Izuku shrugs his shoulders. “I like being a little full when I do it.”
“Huh,” Katsuki dumbly says, because really, he couldn’t think of anything else to say. He doesn’t know if Mina had asked Izuku about the specifics, or if Kirishima just conveniently forgot to tell him. He assumed that Izuku was straight, but it seemed like he wasn’t, and that was going to be a problem.
Because Katsuki was very much gay, and Izuku was very much his type, and this whole ‘solo faceless’ film was about to become very not solo and definetely not faceless.
Again—dog, steak, bite.
He swallows, hard. “Show me then.”
“Okay.”
Izuku takes a shaky breath and finally peels off his last layer of clothing.
And Katsuki's self control promptly launches itself into the ether. Bye bye.
Izuku is freckled all over, even on his fucking ass cheeks. The plug nestled inside him is bright orange and black—Katsuki’s favorite colors. Well, fuck him. Double kill.
There was simply no way it could get any better than this.
Izuku unceremoniously tosses his briefs to the side and settles his hands on the top of the bed. “Um, what now?”
“Turn around,” Katsuki says slowly. He tracks every miniscule movement Izuku makes, not a single twitch or gasp or flush escaping his sight. The words easily tumble out of him, even as his mind goes blank. “Sit down, yeah, put your feet up on the bed. Scoot a little bit more, yeah, like that. Lean back a bit, no-that’s fine.”
The camera’s so damn close to his face but he can’t care enough for the quality of the shot right now. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself, and probably ruining the audio with how deeply he released each breath right onto the on-camera microphone. Was it considered sexual harassment if he was sporting a half chub in front of a coworker? He did work in porn so, really, who the hell knows.
When his brain stops feeling like cotton he notices that Izuku’s gone quiet. He's trembling slightly as he waits for more instructions, already painfully hard, precum beading at the tip of his cock. His face is flushed, eyes glazed over as he looks at Katsuki, biting his lip again and waiting. He looks like he's going to cut them some slack and actually cum untouched.
“You look excited,” Katsuki points out a little too enthusiastically. “You like being told what to do?”
Izuku sighs on an exhale, and the way he clutches at the sheets doesn't escape Katsuki's gaze. “A little bit,” he sheepishly admits.
"Why don't you go ahead and touch yourself for me, then." Katsuki jerks his head up. “Talk me through your process.”
“Um, okay, uh-usually I start with just a light touch here and there. I’m a little… sensitive,” Izuku says, reaching out to fist his cock just slightly. He grits his teeth as he does so, eyes squeezing shut for a moment like he’s doing everything he can not to cum on the spot. “Sorry, I just-yeah.”
He watches with bated breath as Izuku gingerly strokes all the way down and cups his balls, giving it a careful squeeze before moving back up to stroke his dick, thumbing at the slit. His tongue flicks at the corner of his mouth, half-lidded gaze remaining tacked onto the camera.
Or was it at Katsuki?
Izuku hisses, crushing his dick with how tightly he held it. “Do you wanna come over and have a closer look?”
Katsuki's pretty sure he's supposed to stay put right behind the camera. Every solo shoot he's ever worked at has been directed with everyone being at least three feet away from the star, watching as they did all the work. At Izuku's question, he suddenly doesn't remember how they went.
(Even though he's probably been to a hundred.)
“Good idea.”
He hastily fumbles with the locks on the tripod, only mildly grossed out when his sweaty hands make contact and slips across the heavy plastic. He’s never gotten so sweaty before from a shoot, but right now the heat from both the room and inside him is stifling.
He maneuvers the camera around, pushing the tripod aside with his foot, and focuses it just in time to see Izuku's other hand running over the base of the plug and pulling it out with a wet schlick.
Never mind the fact that modern cameras have a nifty little thing called a 'zoom' feature, because Katsuki wants to get up close and personal.
“You know, when I said I liked being stuffed,” Izuku explains, circling the plug over his hole before grinding it back deep into his ass, tongue lolling out between parted lips as he pants loudly, “I meant on both ends.”
“Really now,” Katsuki says, dangerously low, as he saunters even closer to Izuku, who’s still stroking his cock languidly, trying not to come too early. The sounds of slick skin is heavy in the air and he’s looking up at Katsuki with his big, green eyes, his face blanketed by a sheen of sweat. Katsuki's so hard it's almost painful. “You said this was your first time? Kind of hard to believe with that filthy fucking mouth.”
Izuku drags his tongue over his bottom lip and Katsuki’s cock twitches in his pants.
“If I blow you, do I get paid extra? I kinda really wanna go to that concert, too.” Izuku tilts his head and sends him a sultry grin, looking every bit like an already seasoned porn star. Seemed like a switch went off somewhere in between his hero monologue and Katsuki asking to see his ass. Mina is going to to have a field day with this footage. “Business class sounds really good for a long haul flight, don’t you think?”
“I’ll even let you ride first class if you do well enough,” Katsuki huffs, stopping at the foot of the bed. He leans forward, feeling stupid as he thrusts forward so his crotch is only inches below Izuku’s parted mouth. “Well?”
Izuku sits right up the bed and eagerly paws at Katsuki's pants, roughly yanking it down. He runs his palm across his bulge, squeezing, and takes only a second to look up for permission before tugging his boxers down the moment Katsuki gives him a slight dip of the head.
Katsuki hisses as his cock springs free, a pearl of precum already beading at the tip, and Izuku wastes no time in giving his cock head a few tentative kitten licks and two impatient pumps before promptly swallowing it whole.
The camera careens to the side as shivers wrack Katsuki's entire frame from the tips of his toes to the roots of his hair. Izuku hums appreciatively, nuzzling his nose at his pelvis before doing a few shallow thrusts with practiced movements, gag reflex seemingly non-existent.
Virginal act, who?
Katsuki groans, tugging harshly at Izuku's hair with his free hand, the camera still recording in the other. He shivers when Izuku returns the favor by eagerly swallowing around him. "Aren’t you a fucking champ," he scoffs in disbelief. “Where’d you really come from, huh? Where the hell did Mina find you?”
Izuku’s eyes crinkle when he looks up at Katsuki, his words slurring when he insists on talking even with a mouth full of cock, “Yahoo ads.”
Katsuki’s grip on the camera is incredibly tight, and he wonders if it’ll actually break with how rough he’s handling it. The footage is probably unusable at this point, the frame careening left and right and focusing on anything but the star before him. Why the hell would he look through the lens if he could get an eyeful right then and there?
“You taste so good, Kacchan,” Izuku groans against him when he resurfaces, eyes glazed over as he laves his tongue all over the underside of Katsuki’s cock, unfocused eyes trained onto him as he tongues at the slit, “and so big, too. God, I wanna have you in me.”
“Yeah?” Katsuki rasps. He really, really, really likes the sound of that.
If he passes this opportunity up he knows he’s never going to forgive himself.
“Shit. Mina’s going to fucking kill me.”
He pulls back from Izuku’s welcoming mouth, much to the other’s displeasure, and props the camera on a nearby stand. Izuku immediately gets his drift, settling on his back on the bed, knees spread wide. “How do you want me?”
“Just like that, baby.” Katsuki kneels in front of him, but is stopped when Izuku’s heel gently lands on his shoulders. “What? Don’t want me to return the favor?”
“Ah, hm, maybe later?” Izuku says, prodding eagerly at Katsuki’s arm with the tip of his toe. Izuku loops a finger over the plug's flared base and yanks it out none too gently, throwing it off to the side. His hole clenches at the emptiness and Katsuki tries to stop himself from salivating. “I’m… already stretched out. Just-just get in me. Right now.”
Katsuki lifts a brow. “What’s the magic word.”
Izuku rolls his eyes and bites his lip. “Please?”
Katsuki cages him in, the camera probably getting a handful of his ass in the frame. He can't be bothered to think about it, not when Izuku's grabbing at him and pulling him forward, chest to chest.
He’s close—so close he can almost count every single freckle on Izuku’s face with his naked eye—and whispers, “This okay?”
Izuku goes bright red under his gaze, his eyes unfocused and shiny, and nods.
He licks at Izuku's mouth, biting at the bottom lip that's been taunting him since they'd first locked eyes and delves in deep, swapping spit. Izuku groans when Katsuki runs his hand over his chest and roughly pinches a nipple.
Katsuki eagerly drinks his moans in when he pumps his cock with his other hand and taps it over Izuku’s hole, rutting it against his balls and back down. It takes everything in Katsuki’s will to not just slide home in a split second.
He can be nice.
Izuku mouths at him when he finally pushes in, panting deep, hot breaths as Katsuki slowly bucks into him.
“Fuck, yes,” Katsuki groans as he easily bottoms out. Guess Izuku wasn’t lying when he said he was stretched. “You’re a fucking natural.”
“Oh, god you're so big," Izuku babbles in response, eyes fluttering shut as Katsuki slowly eases in. "Please, please-move, please, just-“
Fuck being nice after all.
Katsuki plants a hand to the side to stabilize himself, takes a deep breath as he slides back out, and grunts when he slams back inside. The scream that rings through the room promptly feeds into his cock and ego, fueling him as he jackhammers his way back in and out.
Izuku cries with every harsh thrust, sweat dripping down from every pore and drooling from the corner of his mouth as he buries the side of his head to the mattress, panting little hah-hah-hah’s as he slides further up the bed. He’s barely keeping himself together, clutching at Katsuki’s arm braced against the side of his rib, still thumbing over his swollen nipple.
"Oh fuck, oh no-" he panics, scratching at Katsuki's arm when his eyes suddenly roll backwards without warning and his voice trills up until he’s keening, cum splattering against his jaw and all over Katsuki’s torso as he reaches his peak. It almost seems like he’s stopped breathing altogether, gripping Katsuki’s arm so tightly that his nails dig onto his skin.
Katsuki slows down, giving him a minute to recover.
“You good?” He asks breathlessly when he stills, gritting his teeth at the sharp pain from Izuku’s grip on him. “Want me to stop?”
“No, no, no-" Izuku chants, gripping the mattress so tight that the whites of his knuckles could be seen. “Kacch-ughn-oh god, I think-I’m gonna cum again-”
“What the fuck.” Katsuki can’t help but curse when he looks down and sees that Izuku’s still half-hard. “Okay, yeah-okay. I got you.”
Izuku squeezes even tighter around Katsuki when he pulls out and splits him open again. Katsuki shudders, the wind knocked out of his breath as he topples over and continues pounding into him, keeping his eyes open as Izuku positively drools as he's bounced on his cock. “Fuck-I’m already close-what the hell-”
“I can’t-I’m, yes-yes-yes-” Izuku whimpers and reaches between them, trembling as he furiously tugs at his cock, slick sounds filling the air alongside their panting. It takes only a few more swipes before he’s spasming again, limbs going askew, back going taut and thighs shaking around Katsuki’s waist as he writhes on the bed.
Katsuki’s calves burn as he buries himself to the hilt, just as Izuku clenches impossibly tight. His breaths stutter, heart feeling like it's trying to beat itself right out his chest as he grips Izuku’s waist so tightly he’s sure to bruise the next day. His chest heaves as he twitches and spills hotly inside.
Izuku manages a final tiny, weak spurt, groaning as he absentmindedly palms over his stomach at the spend coating it.
After a long beat of silence, Katsuki swallows dryly, huffing at Izuku’s fucked out face. Izuku shivers when he slips out, and Katsuki's cock gives a valiant twitch when he watches his load slowly trickle out of his spent hole. Fuck, he might actually be ready to go again for a second time in minutes when Izuku lets him. Yeah, he's sure about that—when, not if.
“Shit, sorry,” he swears, not actually feeling at all sorry. “Forgot the condom.”
“Huh,” Izuku replies, breath hoarse. He blinks blearily at Katsuki. He lays boneless on the bed, limbs strewn about as he harshly breathes in and out. “How many minutes left?”
“Twenty,” Katsuki says as he glances at his watch. He might be pushing it, considering he was being an asshole to him just a few minutes ago, but again-dog, steak-well, you get the point. “Wanna do it with a condom this time?”
The corner of Izuku’s lip tugs upwards as he bites it again, humming when he sees Katsuki’s gaze darken. “Only if you’re paying-what was it again? Ah, two first class tickets and a show.”
“Greedy little shit,” Katsuki snaps at him with a sly grin. “Don't worry. I think you’ve earned yourself enough to fly private.”