i know camboy aus have already been done BUT,, #BKDK

imagine ph!deku having a hero-themed cam show where he ‘dresses up’ like Hero Deku & fucks himself open on other heroes’ sextoy merch.
and everyone in the chat loses their goddamned minds over how much this camboy looks like the real Deku,,

it’s like, the PERFECT fantasy for so many of them, because he’s sooooo similar to the hero,,
for izuku it’s mainly the idea of being watched that gets him off,, he likes the power trip it gives him, watching sometimes hundreds of people scramble to tip him, just to see him touch himself,,
enter Kacchan, masquerading as user gz1_kzk, who stumbles upon the stream and enjoys the fantasy all the same—and it’s not weird unless he makes it weird, ok? it’s not ACTUALLY izuku, so it isn’t wrong—until one day he notices the camboy has the hint of a scar on his arm????
it takes him a minute to put two and two together but he almost faints when he realizes the reason he recognizes that mark was because he’d WATCHED Deku get scraped by a villain in the EXACT same spot a few days prior,,
so.... he keeps watching...purely for investigative reasons,, and realizes this fucking camboy has got all of izuku’s scars, even the birthmark on the back of his neck. even if he keeps his mask on for the entire show, he knows its DEFINITELY Deku.
but....that still doesn’t stop him from watching the streams. he feels really guilty and a part of him feels like a creep BUT how could he possibly stop when his line of toys was next on Deku’s list to review???
how could he NOT watch him try to stuff himself with the giant orange and black dildo? how could he not bite the hem of his shirt and fist his cock in time with Deku’s thrusts? and HOW was he not supposed to cum all over his laptop screen when he SWEARS Deku whimpers his name???
the absolute kicker is that Izuku is 100% sure that Kacchan had found his stream, long before Katsuki even realizes its actually him. who the fuck else would be gz1_kzk? it was hardly inconspicuous and honestly a little unimaginative.
and so Izuku draws out his review of the GZ line—trying a product everyday for ten days. the dildos, the vibrators, the plugs, the handcuffs, fucksake he even does a whole bit with the blindfold.
he does it just to see Katsuki grow more and more restless when he sees him irl at work. at that point, kacchan can’t even look izuku in the eye anymore—and people start noticing.

izuku makes it his mission to push kacchan to his limit and on the last day of the GZ review,
it happens.

after he gets done playing with the gauntlet-shaped bullet vibrators, he lets the chat know he’s going to be moving on to Red Riot’s line—
and most of his fans lose their minds, because the Riot line’s whole niche was this RIDICULOUSLY oversized, red jelly dildo that boasted to be accurate to Riot’s size in his unbreakable form.
that was the tipping point, because no. nope. absolutely not. there was no way in HELL katsuki was going to let izuku use a replica of his best friend’s fucking dick.

and so right then, as Izuku’s reading the chat, Kacchan calls him.
katsuki watches deku’s face light up when he plucks his cellphone up and sees his name. he fiddles with his laptop for a second, muting the audio, and then izuku looks straight into his webcam and coos, “oh, hi kacchan~”
Here we go! I'm picking this one up tonight.

CWs: sexwork/camshows, powerbottom!Deku, instructional sex, orgasm denial, dirrrrty talkin' (and if I've missed anything, shoot me a message)

Onwards we hoe:
((Quick catch-me-up if you haven't read the original thread idea:

Pro-Hero Deku hosts an adult cam-show at night where he reviews hero-themed sex merch. After watching a few shows, Bakugou realizes that 'pro-her(h)o(le)_d3ku' is /actually/ Izuku.
He keeps watching the show until Deku decides he's going to review Red Riot's new line of oversized dildos—right after reviewing the Ground Zero line. Feeling frustrated and possessive, he calls Deku's phone mid-show.))
“Hiiii, Kacchan,” Izuku purrs, and his voice over the line matches up almost perfectly with his lips on the screen, save for the tiniest of delays. “Is everything alright?”
“No—everything is not alright,” The words leave Katsuki in an angry rush—but as soon as they’re out, hanging in the air in all their honesty, he realizes that there’s no turning back from the hasty decision he’s made.
Izuku leans forward, tapping at the keys; his voice has its typical sweet, boyish charm to it, but also the hint of heaviness at the end, “Oh no! What’s wrong? You don’t normally call this late—or, like, at all.”

Izuku’s message pops up in the chat moments later.
//pro-her(h)o(le)_d3ku: How about a little teaser for next week’s show?//

On the screen, Izuku fumbles with something off to the side of the camera—then, he finally gets a hold on it, pulling out the giant Red Riot dildo that he’d promised the audience.
A sound, strangled and harsh, gets stuck in Katsuki’s throat.

“Kacchan?” Izuku presses, and on the screen, Katsuki watches him squirt /far/ too much lube onto the bright red toy. He can /hear/ the way the bottle squelches over the phone.
To make matters worse—it’s /cum lube/, the thick, sticky, white stuff that Katsuki has come to adore seeing leak out of Izuku’s hole when he gets done playing with himself.
Then, Izuku leans back. Just far enough to spread his legs and really give the audience a good look at his still-sticky cock and puckered hole. It's still sinfully tight, since he’d only used the bullet vibrators on his nipples earlier.

He lets out a soft sigh and spreads his
legs just a little more, looking into the camera again with hungry, lidded eyes.

“Kacchan, it’s late. Did you need something? Or can I go back to bed?”

“Bed?” Katsuki chokes out.

A slow smile reaches Deku’s eyes.

“Where else would I be at two in the morning?”
Katsuki clenches his teeth and scowls at the screen. As if he could see him, Deku tosses his head back and laughs.

The chat explodes—hundreds of people begging for Deku to turn his mic back on, so they can hear the pretty laughter only Katsuki had.
He’s got these people whipped—tips begin rolling in, and Katsuki can hear the dinging coming through over the phone line.

“Hm, well if you don’t need anything, I’m gonna go.” Deku sighs, propping the phone between his shoulder and ear.
With both hands free, he holds the base of the dildo with one, and gently starts spreading the lube around with the other. Again, Katsuki can hear the lewd squelches, and his dick twitches instinctively.

“Izuku,” Katsuki breathes out wearily. “Put it down.”

“Huh?” Izuku hums,
clearly set on playing dumb. “Put what down?”

With heavy eyes, Katsuki watches him lower the toy between his legs and pat the tip of it against his taint a few times. He can hear the sticky slaps crystal clear, as if he were sat in the same room rather than across the city.
“I swear to /fucking/ God, Deku—“

The big, rounded head presses more firmly against his tight, tiny hole, and there’s another soft breath, followed by even more tips coming in, all the while the chat spams ‘unmute’ messages by the hundreds.
“Izuku.” Katsuki barks, making the other hero flinch away from the phone.

“You’ve got to be more specific here, Kacchan. I can’t know what you’re talking about unless you tell me! Wh—“ The tip of the dildo catches on Deku’s rim, but doesn’t slip in,
“What do you want me to put down?”

“Jesus, fuck,” The blond growls, palming his cock.
He knows its wrong—he shouldn’t want to fuck his fist while he watches Deku struggle to take a replica of his best-fucking-friend’s monster cock—but the soft slippery sounds coming through the phone &
the sight of that beautiful little hole struggling to stretch wide enough has him moments away from bursting at his seams.

“Putthefuckingtoydown.” He huffs, and even though he can’t see it because of the mask, he knows Deku smiles even wider.
“Oh, Kacchan.” Deku moans loudly, now that they’re both on the same page, “Fucking /finally/! Do you know how long I've been waiting for you to snap?” He forces the tip in completely, and cries out when it pops in. “W-Whats the matter? You don’t like Kiri’s c-cock? I do.”
Chills run down Bakugou’s spine, and he sputters, “Y-you didn’t—“

“—didn’t fuck him? I bet you’d like to know,” He huffs a little laugh, but quickly scrunches his brow as the motion makes the toy slip in just a bit more.
“You didn’t.” Katsuki says a bit more firmly; Kirishima is his best friend, not to mention the fact that the redhead could not keep a secret to save his fucking life. Katsuki would know by now if he had.

“Can you blame me?” His eyes flit down to where the toy stretches him.
"I think he’d break me, Kacchan.”


“Sometimes, I want to be broken, though.”
Katsuki’s eyes go wide; half in shock, and half in sheer, maddening adoration—because Deku had begun shoving the dildo deeper, and with a shaky yelp and a twitch that drops the phone onto the bed beside him, he’d managed to take the first third of it.
“Fuck,” Deku mewls, his eyes fluttering; and scrambles to set his phone to speaker, “S’so big—y’still there, Kacchan?”

He can barely speak, his voice hoarse. When did he reach for his cock? When did he start tugging on it lazily, fixated on the sounds only he was hearing?
“M’here, fuck—I can't believe I’m still here.”

“I can,” Deku hums, “How long have you been watching my streams, huh? How long have you been looking at me do nasty, naughty things and touching yourself, Kacchan?”
“I don’t—” He leaps to defend himself, but from what?

The truth? He’s literally sitting here, his phone pressed against his ear, frantically fucking his hand to the sight and sound of Deku’s semi-personalized camshow.
“You don’t? Well I think we both know you watch the show.” Deku pauses, his curls bouncing as he looks up, straight at the camera again. “And…I think I can hear you. Sounds like you could use a bit more lube.”
(((( A/N: QRTs make my heart go 🦋🦋🦋 so pls gib me sum))))
Bakugou indulges, and not at all because Deku told him to—there was no way for Deku to know he was taking a few pumps from a nearby bottle of lotion—but he freezes when his eyes lock on Deku’s sudden movement.

Deku reaches out, shakily uncapping his own bottle,
and with a little smile that crinkles his eyes, he spills the sticky stuff all over himself.

It slides down his tight, toned chest and abdomen, through a perfect triangle of thick green pubic hair, clings to his hot, flushed cock, and dribbles all over
the rest of the enormous dildo that he was still trying to stuff inside himself. His sheets darken with the damp mess, but it doesn’t deter Deku very much.

In the corner of Katsuki’s vision, he sees the chat explode again, hundreds upon hundreds of messages flooding in at once.
“So, how long, Kacchan?”

“Fuck,” He huffs to himself, “A month. About a month, you fucking—hng,”

That last little sound seems to spark some interest in those heavy green eyes.
“Oh, fuck, you sound so desperate for it,” Deku lets out a little gasp, his eyes flitting down to the phone, “I can hear you jacking off so much better now; more, Kacchan. C'mon, make it really wet.”

It’s almost a reflex, how quickly he reaches for the bottle and slicks his
hand up almost excessively. When he slides it over his cock again, he lets out a long, achy moan.

And that confirms Bakugou’s suspicion—Deku /keens/ to the sound of his moan, slipping the toy in and out of himself a bit faster.
“Agh—?” He puffs, “What are you—are you into this? Listening to me—“

“Shut up,” Deku gasps, and his brows pinch together annoyedly, “Shut up—stop talking—you’re fucking with my orgasm; just be good, yeah? Just shut up and fuck yourself, Kacchan.”
And good god, does that stir something in Katsuki; Izuku, legs spread, with a giant toy stretching his hole out, telling him to /be good, shut up, and touch himself/. His lips fall open and a soft, broken sound tumbles out, followed by quick, short breaths signaling his climax.
“I didn’t say /cum/,” Izuku snaps, “You better not—I swear to God, you better not,”

Katsuki’s hand snaps off of his cock and onto his desk with a loud, wet crack, and he lets out a labored breath that sounds suspiciously like a cry.
His poor cock bobs back and forth, twitching with the orgasm that had /almost/ come, only to be denied.

Why was he listening to Deku? What would he have /really/ done if Katsuki had blown his load all over his laptop again?

Probably nothing, but still.
Deku’s churned something up inside him—something soft and painfully obedient.

“Did you?” Izuku purrs.

“No,” He sighs, watching his appendage twitch. He wants to hate it—but his voice is soft and complacent. “I didn’t.”
“Oh fuck, really?” Izuku’s head dips back with a moan, and he manages another inch of the giant toy, “Wow, that’s fucking hot—I didn’t think you’d actually listen." He smiles again, Katsuki can hear it, and then tuts, "You’re such a good boy when you want to be, huh?”
“Fuck you,” Katsuki growls, reaching for his cock again—but he only manages to pull on it twice before ending up right up on the edge of cumming again.

Hesitantly, he pulls away again, choking on another cry.

He couldn’t. Not yet, at least. Deku didn’t tell him he could.
Deku seems to catch that hesitance, because he hums, “Good boy—good /fucking/ boy. Don’t you cum until I say you can, yeah?”

“Fuck, ‘Zuku,” Kacchan finds himself whining—/whining/—at the command.

"You wish this was you?" He glances down at the toy, having it almost
halfway inside him now, "Fucking me open in front of all these people?"

"Y-yeah," He sighs brokenly, fingers twitching for his cock again. "Yeah, Deku, I do—wanna fuck you, /so/ bad,"

"I bet you do," Izuku mewls, "God, I wish I could've had you like this sooner, you're so
honest when you want to cum. Tell me. Tell me how you'd fuck me, Kacchan."

Tiny explosions burn the arm of his desk chairs, and his hips cant upwards, desperate for friction even though there’s nothing there to grant it to him.

"Fucking hell, Deku,"
"Tell me," He begs, "Tell me, fuck, I'm so close, tell me and then cum all over yourself for me."

"Ah—" Katsuki moans, finally reaching for his cock again, "God—fuck, Deku, I-I'd get you on your back—" He gasps, the heat of his orgasm coiling up hot and fast, "—and I'd spread
those thick fucking thighs nice and wide, a-and I'd grab you by your—fuck—wrists and /rail/ you, baby." His voice is so desperate, so shaky, "a-and I'd point that camera so that everyone could see you cry, 'Zuku. Fuck, I want to make a mess of you so bad—see you cum on my cock,"
Deku’s brows pinch up in the center, and Katsuki shamelessly recognizes it as one of Deku’s tells; he really was edging close to his climax.

He always made that face—that delicious, debauched face—whenever he was right about to cum.
And that's just enough to send him toppling over the edge, into one of the harshest, most surreal, bone-rattling orgasms Katsuki has ever had.

He chokes, grunting Izuku's given name over and over again, still staring where he's shoving the toy in and out of his hole.
Cum splatters /everywhere/. It's on his shirt, on his desk, on his laptop—but he doesn't care, because Izuku's following him shortly after.

His big leg lifts higher so he could shove the toy in roughly, and his cock spurts thick white ropes all over his chest—and if he wasn't
already in love, Katsuki most certainly is now.

He just thinks Deku looks so /pretty/ like that.

His chest and cheeks are flushed pink in exhaustion, and he's covered in sweat, sticky white lube, and his own cum—Katsuki only wishes he could lose the mask,
so he could see those pretty pink lips tilted up in a sly smile.

Izuku collapses back against his pillows, letting out a soft, sated sound.

Katsuki feels it too—that heavy satisfaction that dulls his senses and leaves his head feeling fuzzy—but it doesn't stop
something else from simmering low in his gut.

It's not arousal, not quite yet. After cumming that hard, even he would need a minute to recoup.

No, it's something softer; a desire to run his rough palms over those big, strong thighs, to shift his thumbs over that slim waist
appreciatively, to nose at Izuku's collar and kiss up his neck—hell, maybe even yank him close and hold him there for a while.

When he catches the direction his thoughts have drifted, he almost whimpers aloud.

"Holy fucking shit-balls." Deku knots both hands in his hair,
staring up at his ceiling. "That was—God, that was—"

"—really fucking good?" Katsuki supplies.

"—/really/ fucking good!" Deku moans, shifting his trembling legs together, sheepishly. Then suddenly, he sits up, looking like a deer in headlights, "Oh fuck! The stream!"
Katsuki glances down at the chat, where Deku's fans are a cacophony of opinions.

Some seem to be happy Deku enjoyed himself—'look at how hard he came' and 'his thighs are still trembling'

Others are upset about the audio situation—'wish we could've heard you baby boy'
And there are a choice few that seem to have cracked through to the truth—'he's on the phone with someone!' and 'he's definitely having phone sex, lol'

Deku's next message pops up after a minute.

//pro-her(h)o(le)_d3ku: Oh no,, I'm sorry guys! I got kinda carried away...//
And just like that, suddenly there were ten 'it's okay!' messages for every mean one.

Izuku ends the show like he normally does; he answers a few questions about his next few streams and offers his goodbyes, and after a moment, his end-of-stream clip begins.

And now that
Katsuki can't see Izuku anymore, the reality of what they'd done sets in for them both. Neither of them hang up, though.

After a long moment, Izuku whispers "Kacchan?"

"Yeah, Deku?"

"If you don't fuck me like you said you would, /soon/, I'm going to be /really/ mad at you."
Somehow, that breaks the tension, pulling a soft laugh from Katsuki's chest. "Yeah? You really want that?"

"Yeah," Deku sighs, "You talk a hard game. I want to know if you're really up to it, though."

"I don't say things I don't mean, Deku."

"Believe me, I know."
"And you're really okay with this?" Deku says quietly, hesitating before adding, "Me, streaming, I mean. I don't have to...draft up an NDA or anything, right—"



"I am /very/ okay with this."

"I just—is this going to make things weird? I don't want things to
be weird between us. I said—fuck, I said a lot, didn't I? Oh god, and Kirishima! I know he's your friend, shit, I probably shouldn't have—"

"You're rambling, nerd." Katsuki finds himself smiling.

"Oh fuck off, I'm being serious!" Deku cries.
"You haven't made anything weird." Katsuki assures him, his voice a smooth rumble, "In fact, you've given me a whole lot of clarity."


"I don't," He takes a big breath, "Normally like being spoken to like that. Regularly or sexually...but, if it's you..."
It's quiet for a moment, and Katsuki thinks he's misspoke, maybe said too much too quickly, but then Deku lets out a sound that can only be called a squeal.

"Oh my God," He sounds like he's shoving his face in his pillows, "You can't just /say/ shit like that!"
"Considering what we just did, I think I ought to." Katsuki hums, "Maybe we should talk? About all this—about your show and—"



"I am /very/ sticky right now."

Katsuki looks down at his own lap, a mess of sweat, cum, and makeshift lube all drying messily.
"Right—of course. You should get cleaned up—" He glances at his phone; it was already almost four in the morning, "—fuck, and get ready for work soon, too."

"Mhm, but we can talk—in person—as soon as our schedules line up." Deku says, and Kat can hear the sheets shifting.
He doesn't really know what to say—how do you end a conversation that devolved into frantic phone sex? Almost certainly not how Katsuki decides to.

"So, I'll see you at the office."

Fortunately, Deku's too fucked out and tired to care, humming a "Mhm, bye, Kacchan,"
Katsuki sits back in his desk chair, looking over the mess he'd made for Izuku. As he comes down from that primal sex-high, embarrassment tinges his ears and cheeks pink.

He can't believe he'd done the things he did—or said the things he had.

Or /seen/ what he'd seen.
Still, he wants to burn the memory into his brain—the sight of Izuku's thick, pale thighs spread wide, his cute little hole stretched impossibly wide, the sound of him bossing him around and those cute little cries—all of it, so he'd never, ever forget it.
With only an inkling of shame, he plucks some tissues off of his desk and starts cleaning up.

(TBC 🖤)
When Katsuki woke up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes the next morning, realization hit him with the force of a freight train.

He’d had sex with Deku last night.

Well, phone-sex, but...sex nonetheless.
He has to blink a few times, orient himself, and take a couple deep breaths just to repeat it to himself in his head.

//I had sex with Deku last night.//

The memory flashes in his mind—pale, freckled thighs, lube, fuck /so/ much lube, ‘Be good and fuck yourself, Kacchan.’
He sits straight up.

//...Oh FUCK, I had sex with Deku last night.//

Scrubing a hand down his face, he glances at the clock on his nightstand.

Aaaand now he’s got to go to work.

To the office where Deku is, and has been, since his sunrise patrol shift.
He almost calls in sick. The only reason he doesn’t is because he hasn’t called in once in his career, so playing hooky would only raise suspicion.

So he shows up—and honestly, walking into that agency is one of the most nerve-racking things Katsuki has done in a long time.
Unlike some of his cohorts who are no strangers to scandal, Katsuki hasn’t ever had to worry about the things he does in his free time following him into the office.

But of course, a pretty, green Deku and his cam-show came along and tipped that delicate balance right to shit.
So here he is, the big bad Ground Zero reduced to spamming the close-door button on the elevator, on the off-chance the lobby receptionist /somehow/ knew he was a pervert.

Just when the doors almost shut, something wedges between them with a loud /clink!/.
“We’ve worked here for years, you should know that button doesn’t work, dude.” That familiar voice makes Bakugou groan. “Well shit, good morning to you too, sourpuss!”

Kirishima’s a seven-foot-tall, rock-hard, sharp-toothed ray of fucking sunshine.

“Who were you
trying to avoid?” Kiri grins, “Did you piss Mina off again?”

“Wha—No.” Katsuki’s voice is soft—far too soft and not nearly as abrasive as it normally is.

Kirishima notices immediately.

“Holy shit, are you alright, man?” His smile falls. “Why are you all red? Are you sick?”
“I’m not fucking sick, shit-for-brains. Leave me alone.”

But of course, his self-appointed best friend can’t just do that.

He leans closer, squinting, as though he were appraising the explosive blond. Finally, he snaps his fingers, and a grin slides across his face.
“You got laid!”

Bakugou’s eyes widen, and he clasps his palm over Kirishima’s mouth, even though they’re the only two in the elevator. “Shut the fuck /up/! What is wrong with you? You can’t just shout shit like that!”

“You got laid!” he repeats, this time with the same amount
of enthusiasm, just a little less loud. “Bro, you’re like, glowing! Did you have a good time? Were you safe? Shit, do you even own condoms? I know you don’t do the whole casual sex thing—“

“—Eij. Stop talking.”

“I’m just happy for you, bro!”

Bakugou grunts, hoping that would
be the end of the conversation. And for a moment, it seems it is, with just the dinging of the elevator as they pass each new floor.

But Kirishima looks like he’s bursting at his seams, trying to contain whatever nonsense he needed to blurt.

Lest his friend burst a blood
vessel, Katsuki barks “What?”

The words rush out, “I’m sorry but—who was it? Do I know them? What happened? What—did you fall in love overnight? You don’t date, you don’t sleep around, and now you’re fucking someone? I’m happy for you! Like, really happy! But—is everything ok?”
Bakugou sighs. He knows where Kiri’s coming from—how many times did he scoff at the girlfriends Mina brought around, or the boyfriends Denki fell in love with weekly?

He’d sworn up and down that would never be him, and Kirishima knew that.

It’s only fair he’s concerned.
But at the same time, Katsuki feels heat flooding his face.

Little did he know—and if he could help it, Kirishima would /never/ know—that he’d inadvertently been the catalyst to all of this.

It was a toy shaped like /his/ dick that had gotten Kat laid over the phone.
“It’s not like that.” Bakugou looks away. “It’d just—been /piling up/ for a while now, and it sort of just happened. It’s not love, or whatever the fuck you think it is. So piss off about it.”

“Okay.” Kirishma’s not satisfied with that reply, but he doesn’t press further.
“And for fucks sake, don’t tell Pinky—or any of the other idiots.”

“Got it!” Kiri mimes zipping his lips shut.

For another moment, there’s a heavy quietness between them again—but Kirishima breaks it.

“I just—okay wait,” He snorts, “Do I know them? At least give me that!”
“Yes!” Katsuki glares at the little numbers on the wall. 17...18...almost fucking there...

“No shit! So it’s someone we know?”

“Do I look like I fuck strangers?”

“...That’s fair.”

The elevator stops with a sharp /ding!/ and Katsuki darts out as soon as the doors open—but he
doesn’t get very far. He runs square into someone, almost knocking them both over.

“Easy there, Blasty!” comes another annoying voice.

“Fucksake.” He huffs, looking out at Pro Hero Chargebolt.

“Where you running off to? Your shift doesn’t start until—wait a minute, are
you alright? Do you have a fever? Why’re you so red?”

Behind them, Kirishima laughs.

“What’s so funny?” Kaminari folds his arms across his chest. He takes another look at Bakugou and hums, “Oh, this is new! Let me guess!”
“No, no guessing—none of us have got time for you to fire up your four neurons. Move.” Bakugou growls.

Kaminari snaps his fingers and grins, “Oh! You got laid, didn’t you?”

Katsuki blinks at him, in complete disbelief. Kirishima downright howls.

“How the /fuck/—”
“—you didn’t call me Dunceface.” Kami shrugs, “Normally that means you’re in a good mood, but then there was only one insult in your sentence, which means you’ve got to be in a /really/ good mood!”

“Oh my god.” Bakugou palms his forehead, wishing he’d called in.
“Hey, it’s no worries man—I can keep a secret!” He winks—and it’s very clear that the entire building would probably know by the end of the day. “Between us though—was she hot?”

Fortunately, Kirishima’s quick enough to restrain Bakugou’s crackling fists.

The rest of the morning goes by without incident—he gets through his paperwork, and makes his way to the locker rooms to get dressed before his patrol shift starts.

Only then does he catch the little sideways glances from extras in the halls.
When he gets into the locker room there’s a barrage of laughter and hollering. Tetsu, just getting off patrol, is the first to clap a hand on his shoulder.

He looks back at the others, and fakes a sniffle, “They just grow up so fast.”
He shoves the silver bastard off of him so hard, he almost goes with his arm. “Get the fuck off of me.”

The locker room erupts in more laughter, and Bakugou scans the room for someone to intimidate the truth out of.

His eyes land on Kiri, who already looks guilty.
“The fuck is all this about?”

Sato, the giant door of a man, pipes up, “A little birdy told us you finally got your dick wet! Congratulations! You stopped yelling long enough to get some tail!”

Bakugou feels his palms grow hot, his glare flicking back to his best friend.
“It wasn’t me, I swear!” The redhead folds.

“I’m going to fucking end that forty-watt dumbass.” He grunts, moving towards his locker.

A smooth, sing-songy voice comes from around the corner.

Katsuki’s eyes snap up immediately.

“But why would you do that, Kacchan?”
Deku’s fresh out of his shower, a towel slung low on his hips, another draped over damp, dripping curls.

The teasing continues through the room, but Bakugou grumbles, “Because it’s none of his business to be spreadin’ around.”

Deku’s lockers are right beside his, so he settles
in next to him, pulling his civvies out of the cupboards. “I think everyone in this building can tell you got laid Bakugou. You’re in a /much/ better mood than normal.”

The others might not catch the little smile he shoots Katsuki—but he sure does. His mouth goes completely dry.
“See!” Kirishima settles between them, clapping Bakugou’s back so hard, he almost tumbles forward. “So please don’t hurt Kami—he’s getting me dinner after patrol.”

Bakugou shoulders him away. “Fuck offa me, you big brick.”

Deku quirks a brow, and softly hums, “Big b—”
“—OKAY,” He yelps. “I get it, it’s very funny, now can you all fuck off about it?”

“When are we gonna meet her?” Kirishima beams—completely and innocently unaware that that’s the single last thing Katsuki wanted to answer.

“Yeah, when do we get to meet the chick who’s tamed
the beast?” Tetsu leans against Kirshima’s arm, making them look like a pair of giant action figures.

Katsuki watches Deku’s eyes flit over the two of them, in their state of undress, and then the little smile that forms on his pretty plump lips.
It clicks in his head—
‘pro-her(h)o(le)_d3ku’ hasn’t reviewed Tetsu’s line of toys yet.

Warmth floods between Katsuki’s thighs, and he barely gets the words out, “Fuck—never. You’re never ever /ever/ gonna meet them—because you’re all being fucking weirdos.”
“Oh, you’re no fun!” Tetsu pouts.

“Yeah, Kacchan,” Deku sings, pawing through his duffel. “No fun at all.”

Katsuki has to lean further into his locker to hide. He’s almost certain his cheeks are aflame.

“Don’t you idiots have somewhere to be?”
“Same as you—looks like we’re teamed up for patrol today.” Kirishima says, while Tetsu wiggles his eyebrows.

“That’s right Blasty, you’re stuck with us until dusk, baby!”

“Dying would hurt less.” He chuffs, causing Deku to snort.
After a few more jabs, the titan twins return to their lockers, slipping into their hero suits—with remarkable ease, seeing that their suits have lost more and more fabric over the years.

Katsuki sees out of the corner of his eye how Deku shamelessly stares.
Once they’re dressed, they leave—and soon enough, the others follow suit.

In their row of lockers, Sato is the last to go, leaving Katsuki and Izuku alone.

There are a few other heroes & sidekicks further in the room, fiddling with their gear and taking showers—but it seems
they’re alone enough for Deku.

“You really should get laid more.” He hums, slipping the mesh liners out of his suit’s joints and dropping them into his laundry bag.

“I didn’t tell them.”

“I know.” Deku shrugs, hiding a smile, “I’m just saying, you should get fucked more.”
“Hah?” He narrows his eyes, “I don’t—“

“—bottom?” Izuku grins, as though he has every intention of changing that. “I didn’t say that. I just said you need to be fucked more. It calms you down.”

“I’m hardly fucking calm now.” He says through gritted teeth. “Tetsu better not
be next on your list.”

Izuku raises a brow, and sets his suit down. “Oh? And why not?”


Izuku takes a step closer, and the complaint dies right on his tongue.


“Because you don’t want to see it? Fine. Don’t watch.” Deku supplies with a little smile.
He slides closer, a big broad chest and lithe little waist, the towel still dangerously low.

Katsuki lets out a little frustrated noise, and his grip on the locker’s door goes white.

“But if you do—let me know, I can make it real special for you.”
Bakugou takes a breath, and turns back to his locker, shrugging out of his shirt.

...Did he not want to see it?

Because if he didn’t, he probably shouldn’t be thinking about it—the pretty silver toys still sitting in Deku’s wishlist on the cam-site.

If he didn’t, he shouldn’t
be thinking about them covered in sticky, white lube, sliding—

He glances down at his dick and scowls. //Down, boy.//

Beside him, Deku leans against the locker—so close, Bakugou can see the freckles dusting his cheeks...and his shoulders, and his chest—aaaand now he’s staring.
“At least let /me/ get you the set.”

He doesn’t even realize what he’s said until he’s watching Deku’s lips pull back into a shit-eating grin.

Izuku leans even closer, and arches a brow, “You want to pay for a replica of Tetsu’s dick, and then watch me fuck myself with it?”
Katsuki chuffs, yanking his gauntlets off of their stand.

“Jesus, Kacchan. You’ve got more kinks than I can keep up with.”

“Whatever. Will you let me do it, or not?”

“I won’t stop you.” Long lashes part as he looks up. “Say, you’ve got a few minutes before patrol, right?”
He looks up so fast, he almost bonks his head on the open locker doors.

Deku glances over his shoulder, then back at Katsuki with a little smile.

Then he looks down—at the little tent in his towel.
Katsuki’s face flushes again.

“Yeah.” He nods, “I’ve got a minute. I’ve got however long you need.”

“Yeah? Good—get on your knees.”

“My kne—“

“C’mon, before anyone else comes over here.”
Katsuki’s jaw tightens at the command, and he glares over at Deku.

Rationally, he knows he shouldn’t do this. There are other people just some feet away.

It’s wrong.

Very wrong, and he shouldn’t even
/consider/ doing it.

But Deku’s thumb hooks into that towel, pulling it
lower, revealing inch after inch of pretty, freckled skin, and the base of a hot, hard—

“/Deku/.” He inhales sharply.

And there’s that smile again—a flash of white teeth and a nip at his lip. Sweet—so fucking sweet—but with that hint of dominance Katsuki felt addicted to.
That mischievous glint in his giant green eyes makes Katsuki huff out a curse and reach forward to set his gauntlets back onto their case.

Without another word, he sinks to his knees.
Izuku’s hands are on him immediately—one fisting in unruly blond hair, the other cupping his jaw, and pulling his mouth open.

“So good for me.” He muses quietly. “Come on, we’ve got to be quick.”

Katsuki nods, painfully obedient, and reaches for Deku’s towel. It falls between
them, and is quickly kicked aside.

He almost dives in—almost swallows that pretty cock whole—when Deku’s hand tightens in his hair.

“Quick, not rough.” He says sharply. “This dick pays my bills—keep it pretty, please.”

“Fuck, okay,” Katsuki growls. “Just let me—“
“—Say ‘please’ first.”

Kat narrows his eyes.

The fist in his hair yanks his head back, and the other presses a thumb down on his tongue, almost making him gag.

Then, Deku looks right down at him, and spits.

Almost right in his mouth.

And Katsuki almost cums in his pants.
That thumb pushes the slick into his mouth, sliding it across his tongue—then that soft voice repeats,

“Swallow, then say ‘please’.”

He’s never moved to quickly in his life—he barely swallows around Deku’s thumb before his voice is hoarse and shaky, “Please—fuck Deku, let me—“
“—Shhhh, sh-sh!” Deku grins.

With a strong hand, he presses Katsuki’s face right up against his balls—Kats is a mess of tongue and lips there, barely coordinated enough to get a few solid licks in.

The skin is smooth under his tongue, and he tastes like clean peppermint soap.
“Oh, did you want to suck me off?” Deku coos down at him, watching how the anger slips right out of those mean red eyes.

How could he be angry with Deku’s cock bobbing against his forehead?

How many weeks—years, if he’s honest with himself—had he dreamt of being right here?
With his nose buried in Deku’s smooth, soft skin; his tongue finally fucking tasting him?

Gently, he tugs one into his mouth, swirling his tongue and stifling a moan as Deku bites his lip.

He couldn’t be angry—no, he couldn’t be anything but ridiculously and painfully horny.
His cock is so hard in his hero suit, he thinks he could blow with just the right shift of his hips; but he widens his knees and waits—because Deku hadn’t told him to touch himself.

They probably wouldn’t have time—Deku was likely going to get himself off and leave him hard and

Heat sparks down his spine at the thought.

“Sorry, Kacchan—we’ve gotta be fast, yeah? You don’t want to keep Kirishima and Tetsu waiting.”

He props his leg up on the bench behind Katsuki—giving him a beautiful view of his pretty, puckered hole.

“C’mon. Get me wet.”
Katsuki's mouth falls open obediently, and his tongue slips out—and Deku wastes no time, pressing himself against him.

And Katsuki almost cries at the feeling of Deku's tight balls pressed against his nose, the taste of his skin on his tongue, drowning in the heft of his sex.
How long had he been thinking about doing this? Tasting him, /finally/ fucking tasting Deku after all these years, it's so much more than he could've ever asked for.

And he knows he must look pitiful, legs spread wide, painfully hard, content to just have his face used.
"You look so fucking good like that, Kacchan," Deku huffs, grasping a handful of unruly blond hair, /hard/. "So fucking good."

Katsuki lets his neck go slack, so Deku can maneuver him better.

"Fuck, why're you do good at this? Now I'm feeling a little jealous." His brow goes
up, "Who's had you on your knees like this, Kacchan?"

When he doesn't answer, Deku yanks him away, his brow still arched.

"Nobody," Katsuki gasps, his voice hoarse, "Fuck, no one, nobody, Deku,"
"I find that hard to believe." Deku says, dipping his thumb into Katsuki's mouth and pressing hard on his tongue, almost making him gag. "Nobody?"

Katsuki shakes his head, "No—" He says around the digit, "—I swear,"
When Deku slides his thumb out, admiring the line of slick between the digit and Katsuki's lips, Katsuki immediately sticks his tongue out. Deku smiles down at him, then spits again—and this time it lands squarely on his tongue.
"Fuuuuuck," Deku grunts, and shoves him right back where'd been. "/Good boy,/"

Lapping at his hole, Katsuki barely makes out the motion of Deku's fist slipping over his cockhead in quick flicks of his wrist before that hand in his hair tightens again, yanking him back.
"Mmm, fuck, Kacchan—"

Deku's hand slips down to cup his cheek and it's a touch too sweet for Katsuki—but Deku can tell, so he hooks his thumb into his mouth and cums all over his tongue.

With one eye closed, Katsuki takes it—and it tastes like salt and a bad, /bad/ decision.
...Because now, he's sat on the locker room floor, five minutes before his patrol shift starts, with a hard cock and cum and spit down the bottom half of his face.

And before he can even catch himself, his brick house of a hero partner's voice is flooding the locker room again.
"Bakubro? Are you still in here?" He calls, seemingly from the door, "You're never late for anything. Like, ever."

"Shit!" Deku gasps, fumbling to re-tie his towel around his waist—then he yanks the one from his hair down and swipes it down Katsuki's face roughly, "Up, up, up!"
Katsuki allows himself to be yanked to his feet, still a little dazed as Deku frantically gets rid of all the evidence.

"Bro!" Kirishima huffs, rounding the corner just as Deku tosses the soiled towel into his own locker. "What the heck? We're gonna be late!"
"I'm fucking coming!" He tries to bark, but his voice is weird and watery.

Deku barely manages to contain his snort.

"Ooooookay." Kirishima says, his eyes darting between the two of them. "Is this about your girlfriend? I'm sorry about Tetsu—I can talk to him, if you want."
Deku's eyes glint, mischief clearly popping into them, then he snaps his fingers, "Maybe you should just tell them who it is, Kacchan."

Kirishima lights up. "Yeah! I mean come on—we all know it's Camie, right? You said it's been piling up for a while, it's gotta be Cams!"
Deku makes a face, but when Kirshima looks at him for support, he smiles wide—but the second he turns back to Katsuki, mean green eyes land on him.

And Katsuki feels his dick twitch—because /holy fuck/ does jealousy look good on Deku.
"Oh fuck off." Katsuki grinds his teeth so hard, he'd probably feel his gums throbbing for the rest of his patrol.

"He'll leave you alone if you tell him." Kirishima sings, watching Katsuki yank his compression tank on. "I don't understand—does she not want people to know?"
Deku's jaw clicks, "She doesn't seem like the type."

"Right?" Kirishima plops down on the bench. "She seems like she'd be down to date you bro, and scream it from the rooftops, too."

"She sure does." Deku's glare starts to feel like it's burning a hole through Katsuki's temple.
"It wasn't fucking Camie." Katsuki says, snatching his gauntlets and slamming his locker.

He can't even look at Deku—lest his face explode in heat again, so he just chuffs, "Let's go, hair-for-brains."

Kirishima however, calls over his shoulder, "Oh, are you ready now? Okay!
Bye, Midoriya!"

"Bye, Kirishima!" Then after moment's silence, in a far less polite tone, "Bye, Kacchan."

The patrol is going painfully slow.

It's been /maybe/ an hour and Katsuki is contemplating blowing his /own/ face up to get away from his red rock idiot and this tin can dumbass.

He's praying for a call. He'll take anything at this point, but he'd prefer something that
will take up a few hours of the shift—maybe a bank robbery, or a bomb threat.

Fuck, he even considered calling the threat in himself.

He'd do anything, if it meant a moment's reprieve from—

"—Hypothetically speaking," Tetsu points at him, "You /would/ date Ochako."
Kirishima trails behind him, as they continue on their route. There's absolutely fucking /nothing/ happening in the city today to prevent this conversation.

"It's not Uraraka." Kiri shakes his head. "It's got to be Camie."

"He told you it wasn't Camie!" Tetsu throws his hands
up in the air. "Also, I'm like ninety percent sure she's dating weird motherfucker who vibrates."

"That makes perfect sense." Kirishima says, "I don't know who else it could be, man—"

"—Have you considered," Bakugou interrupts them, his voice sharp and mean,
"That I just don't want you assholes to know who I'm sleeping with? Has that thought even crossed your empty, barren minds?"

Kiri and Tetsu exchange a look, then simultaneously they frown, "Nah."
Katsuki sighs, and closes his eyes.

Which...might not have been the best idea, because every time he does /that/, he pictures Deku, looming over him, right before he'd blown his load all over his—

Tetsu snaps, "It's the Todoroki sister—the really nice one with the glasses!"
"He's only got one sister?" Kirishima frowns.

"Would you fuckers give it a rest?" Katsuki shouts, causing them both to flinch. "I'm not going to tell you—and guessing is going to get you nowhere, because it is the /single/ last person you fucks would ever think of."
"Sheesh, fine, spoil-sport." Tetsu says. "M'sorry."

They start walking again in complete quiet—well, for exactly /four/ seconds of quiet—before Tetsu starts yapping again.

"Anyways—what were you telling me about Denki going to that new ramen spot?"

They both look up,
only to realize Kirishima isn't beside them.

He's still standing in the same spot, a few paces back, where Katsuki had yelled at them.

And the moment Katsuki sees the wide, vacant look in Kirishima's eyes, he knows his stupidly perceptive best friend has figured him out.
Kirishima blinks a few times, still seemingly in shock.

"Bakugou, you broke him!" Tetsu yelps, "Hey, Red, Blasty's just being mean, yeah? He didn't mean to—"

"—Deku." Kirishima says quietly. "Y-you—D-Deku?"
"Deku?" Tetsu furrows his brow.

Katsuki can feel his heart hammering in the soles of his fucking shoes. "Eij, listen—"

"Deku?!" Kirshima shouts—but he isn't angry, he's /excited/. "Are you fucking kidding me, dude!"

"Duuuuuude!" Kiri looks up at the sky and giggles, "Sero owes me two-hundred-fucking-bucks!"

"I'm so confused." Tetsu says, blinking at them.

"This isn't about you, silver surfer." Katsuki snaps, then glares at his best friend, "You fuckers put money on this?"
"Uh, you bet your ass we put money on this!" Kirishima grins at him, "It was like watching a car crash in slow motion—are you fucking kidding me? Bro, you've been walking on eggshells all fucking month!"

"Shut up." He growls. "Shut up. Stop talking—better yet, fucking die."
"Oh my god," Kiri giggles again, fist pumping the air, "Eat /shit/ Sero," He glances over at Tetsu, "Dude! You want to get ramen after this? I just made two hundred dollar-oos of pocket change, babyyy!"

"I don't understand what's happening, but I'm down!"

Bakugou thanks his
lucky stars that Tetsu is as dumb as he is shiny; but then Kirishima pauses again, and Katsuki watches as the humor slips right off of his face, replaced with a look of realization morphing slightly into disgust.

"Oh dear god—is that, in the locker room? W-Was that?"
Bakugou only smiles at him.

"Oh no." Kirishima gasps and gags so hard he almost folds over in half. "There were people! Oh god—I sat on that bench!"

That earns a laugh from Bakugou, and after another moment of exaggerated gagging, they continue their patrol; and if
Tetsutetsu caught onto things, he knew better than to speak on them.

The little smile on the corner of his as he held Eijirou through his newfound trauma was enough to tell Katsuki that his secret would likely be safer with him than it had been with Kaminari.

TBC! :)
After their patrol, Katsuki showers and hops back into his civilian clothes, warm and clean and honestly ready to hit the sack.

They'd run into a villain near the end there with a quirk much like Tetsu and Kiri's, which meant Bakugou had spent far too long blowing explosions
up in the face of someone who couldn't even feel it.

And now /he/ was feeling it, down to his bones.

Fatigue hit him over the head and he could barely manage grunts in response to the other heroes asking if he was alright.

Fortunately, they didn't expect much more from him.
And fortunately for him, he would have enough time to take a nap before the only thing he really cared about today.

Deku's show.

He's scheduled to go live tonight, and when Katsuki looks down at his phone, he re-reads the same notification he'd gotten on patrol.
The site's got an inconspicuous enough name and the notifications don't even show it, just a little heart emoji followed by the model's 'Going Live' message:

pro-her(h)o(le)_d3ku is going live in 1:13:05: ive got a pretty special show planned for tonight! hope you can make it <3
He knows it isn't for him—everyone subscribed to Deku's show would get the message—but it still feels like it; and so what if he likes it.

Eventually, the three of them crowd into the elevator; Tetsu and Kiri on their way to meet Denki and the rest of the idiot-squad for ramen,
and Kats on his way home.

"Are you /sure/ you don't want to get dinner with—"

"—I am unbelievably sure." Bakugou says, refusing to meet Kirishima's eyes. "I'm going home."

"Gotcha, okay." Kirishima frowns, but Bakugou doesn't get to overthink it, because the elevator
doors open to the lobby, and they all file out.

The receptionist at the front desk makes eyes at him, and purrs out her "Goodnight, Ground Zero," Like she always does, and he ignores her, like he always does.

And when they step out into the cool evening air, he gets ready to
deny one final invitation to dinner and part ways with his patrol partners, only to hear his nickname coming from off to his right.

He whips around, because there's only one person that calls him 'Kacchan' like /that/.

Deku's walking out of the coffee shop beside the agency,
smiling over at them.

"What are you still doing here?" Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth, not at all friendly-sounding.

In fact, it's rather /guilty/-sounding.

"Home, riiiiiight." Kirishima rolls his eyes, but grins, "See ya later, Bakubro! You too, Midoriya!"
"I live pretty close, remember, Kacchan?" He turns, gesturing to one of the taller apartment buildings a few blocks in the distance. "Are you heading home?"

Vaguely, he remembers that. He'd gone to Deku's house warming party when he'd first moved in a few years back.
He remembers touring through the place and Kirishima ooh-ing and ah-ing at every subtle integration of the nerd's All Might merch into the decor, and thinking 'why on earth would he need all this extra space?'

Three bedrooms.

One to sleep in, one for guests, and one to film.
"Yeah, I'm headed home—" He starts, but Deku's looking over his shoulder, and the second Kiri and Tetsu are out of earshot, his eyes go dark and he smiles up at Katsuki, meanly.

That same mean smile from earlier.

And Katsuki feels his cock stir, immediately.
He grinds his teeth at just how conditioned he's become to those spiteful fucking eyes. He doesn't even notice how they've turned, and begun walking towards Deku's place.

"So Camie, huh?" Deku says, and although his voice is sweet, the look in his eye is anything but.

"Camie." He repeats, simply.

It takes him some terse seconds, but he recalls Kirishima's voice in the locker room—/'We all know it's Camie, right?'/

His eyes widen. "N-No," but then he huffs, "I mean, yes, but just once."


"Once. It's a long story."
"Mhm." Deku nods, "I see."

A beat passes, and Katsuki realizes he's walking past the train station he ought to be stopping at, in favor of following Deku.

He hates to think it, but he might be in to deep here; because he doesn't even /almost/ consider turning back.
In some sort of squabble to hold onto his pride, he huffs, "What? You jealous?"

Deku takes a long sip from his coffee, and then without even looking at him, "Kacchan, I made you cum on command, through a phone. I'm not jealous of someone you slept with once, likely while drunk."
Katsuki's heart skips a beat, and he goes red.


"Will you be busy tonight?" Deku asks, innocently.

"We both know what I'm gonna be doing tonight, Deku."

Deku smiles a small, knowing smile. "Then, would you like to come over?"

Katsuki stops in place, and Izuku
follows suit.

"Y-You want me to come over?" He repeats.

"Don't look so surprised." Deku rolls his eyes. "Keep walking, it's cold."

They fall into step again, and careful quiet lingers between them; Katsuki's mind is roaring by at a mile a minute, but then he connects the dots.
"You want me to come over." He says, more sure this time; and swallows hard.

"Yes, Kacchan." Deku smiles, and it's a feral thing to see. "I want you to watch."

(TBC 👀)

TYSM for this, @spepps_art (!!!!!) i die a horny death every time i look at this iTS JUST SO GOOD AND I JUST—AGSHDJS 💍 https://twitter.com/spepps_art/status/1307057215384227840
The walk to Izuku's apartment is short; made in near perfect quiet.

Well, quiet on Katsuki's end.

Deku was talking about any and everything—the fights he'd broken up on his patrol, the cute flower shop near his place.

He babbled the way he always did, as if he
didn't just casually drop such a bomb on Katsuki's head.

And...it shouldn't be a big deal, hypothetically.

Because /hypothetically/ it's the same thing he'd be doing if he'd just gone back to his own apartment.

But it's not; and they both know it's not.
Kat's entire chest felt tight with anticipation; and frankly, he didn't know if he could handle it.

Somehow, Deku is able to stoke some strange flare of obedience inside him—and not simply his compliance; no, his compliance was easy to come by these days.

His obedience is not.
And if the look in Deku's eyes is any indication, the mean green fucker knew that.

So, if Deku told him to sit and watch...well, he was going to sit and watch.

Deku's place is much like he remembers it, a tad cozier if anything. An excessive amount of throw pillows on his
couch, soft-looking blankets strewn across it; mail neatly tucked on a sideboard near the door. Izuku tosses his keys in a bowl there and shrugs out of his jacket.

"You can say no if this isn't something you're into."

"What?" Katsuki looks up.

"You haven't said anything."
Deku begins to tug his belt off; and Katsuki's brain starts to feel foggier and foggier by the second.


"If you aren't up for this, tell me now—"

"—I'm up for it."

Deku narrows his eyes, "Good." He turns, and Katsuki drops his bag and follows, not unlike a lost puppy.
They turn into what Kat remembers to be the spare bedroom—the 'office' as he'd said it would probably be, all those years ago—and it's exactly like he expects.

A big bed tucked into the corner; fluffy hero plushies placed about it in Deku's meticulous manner—probably organized
by their rank, knowing him.

The rest of the room is more interesting though—just in front of the set-up he's so intimately familiar with there's a desk with a few monitors on it, and the camera he uses to stream.

There are a few soft-box lights pointed towards the bed, and
Deku walks right over to them, flicking them on with a little hum.

In another corner, there's a sleek dresser with a mirror hung right above it. Deku makes his way over to it, and begins discarding his clothes.

Katsuki watches intently—the curve of strong muscled thighs
and shoulders—under his streetwear, he's wearing a pair of pretty, lace panties. It's the softest baby pink color, and Katsuki swears he blows a fuse.

There's something about those big, strong legs covered /barely/ by /baby pink lace/ that fries his brain.

Deku lets out a sigh
and slips into a matching silky pink robe. Then, he reaches into another drawer and pulls out a few things. When he turns around with them in-hand, Katsuki's eyes go wide.

A fleshlight and a bit gag.

"I want you to sit, on your knees, beside the bed. Can you manage that?"
Katsuki barely nods before more instructions come.

"The camera's shot ends where the toys are—don't get in frame." He watches with a little smile as Katsuki sinks down to his knees as close to the bed as he can get without shifting into shot. "Oh, Kacchan. At least take your
clothes off, first."

He makes a little grunt, embarrassed by his own eagerness, but still begins to disrobe. Izuku slips behind him, and he almost shivers at the feeling of the silk ties sliding across his bare back.

Once his sweatpants are folded up beside
him, he feels Izuku's fingertips brush the side of neck—they run from the tip of his shoulder to the soft spot behind his ear, then slide into his hair.

Hard plastic lands in his lap—the uncapped fleshlight.

He looks up. Deku's holding the gag in his other hand.
"If my audience hears you, I'll take your toy away." He says, his voice smooth and sweet, but just a little condescending.

It makes Katsuki shift on his knees; he wants to hate it—being spoken to like...like a pet—but he doesn't. He just nods and opens his mouth.
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