A half assed arranged marriage au

Katsuki Bakugou, son of King Mitsuki Bakugou, was born of war and fire, of smoked ashes and tangeled tongues. There isn't a soft bone in Katsuki's whole body. He's trained to be King ever since he could crawl, and he held a sword before he held a tit.

(It's not important that he's eighteen and still hasn't held a tit. He doesn't have the desire or time for such things.)

Katsuki's always been accused of having a one track mind. But unlike his friends Kaminari and Uraraka, his doesn't revolve around highs and sex.

His brain is focused solely on becoming King.

The title is not his simply by birthright. He has to earn it. He has younger siblings after all, even if none of them are near his age. And if he does wrestle it from Mitsuki's grip in a hard won battle, he has to /keep/ earning it from any challengers.

His people recognize strength. Cleave to it.

The more battles he wins, the more respected he'll be.

Katsuki gets a rune for every battle he wins. A different rune, in a different place, but earned nonetheless.

He has 26 runes.

He got his first one when he was eight after he slaughtered a rapid wolf.

He briefly wonders what rune he's going to recieve for //this//.

Winning the spot of King has consumed Katsuki's thoughts forever. So no, he's never given things like his happiness, a future partner, or a fucking /wedding/ any thought.

If he did marry, he figured it would late in life and because of his mother's insistant nagging that he needs a heir, someone to carry on his namesake, someone to conquer long after Katsuki's dead.

He doesn't expected to be eighteen and standing //here//. All before he's conquered shit.

With gritted teeth Katsuki works out, "I vow to you the first cut of my meat and the first sip of my wine." He wishes the ribbon on his wrist was tighter. He wants it to hurt.

Fighting a blush he quickly rushes, "From this day it shall only be your name I cry out in the night."

He hears one of his sisters chuckle behind him and the air in the hall becomes hot. Why the fuck did every single Viking within in a eighty mile radius have to be packed into this room?

It's hot enough because it's the fucking heat of the year. The added people, the long ceremonial fur coat, and the fact that Katsuki only got an hour of sleep last night thanks to the fucking rites of marriage that no one told him about only serve to piss him the fuck off.

It's ridiculous. Who the fuck needs to be woken up in the middle of the night to go grave robbing? Why the hell does digging up the sword his grandfather was buried with, make him a man?

And why the //hell// did he need a FOUR hour bath?!?!

And could his hair be any fucking heavier right now?! He normally kept braids and shells and runes it in, but the fucking tightly woven french braid and the crystal ornanments were giving him a headache.

"Katsuki." His mothet hisses, drawing his attention to the ceremony at hand.

Oh. Right.

"And, uh.. into your eyes I smile each morning. I shall be the shield at your back as you are for mine. No grievous words will be spoken between us for our marriage is sacred+

+and no stranger shall hear my grievence. Above..." Katsuki falters. He remembers the words, but for some stupid reason they get lodged in his throat. He looks to Kaminari, his friend and Gothi, and Denki nods his head. "Above and beyond this I will honor and cherish you+

+through this life and into the next."

Up until the last words are uttered and Katsuki's removing the bottom bands on his grandfather's sword for rings, Katsuki's not sure who he's marrying.

The entire Kirishima clan is squeezed up on the podium with him, Kaminari, and Mitsuki.

Honestly, Katsuki hasn't been looking at a single one of the red bastards since he started this shit show.

But it should have been obvious. Sort of.

There's three contenders, since only three of the Kirishima's looks to be the right age. Sure, he could be marrying one of the young girls, but it's likely to be one of.... them.

One of them is a woman. Logically she makes the most sense. A woman with female equipment can give him legitimate heirs.

But whether the Kirishima's know it or not, there's an issue with her.

Sure, she's probably attractive but she has short pink hair and Katsuki (and Mitsuki) would have assumed that means she's likely not a virgin (not that he fucking cares) and also she's not strong.

Silver hair's the next choice. He looks strong, and carries a sword on his hip that dwarfs Katsuki's antique one.

 Mitsuki probably would have no problem accepting him along with the mundr (bride price), exchange of heiman fylgia (dowries) and Kirishima support in war and peace.

But..... no. It's not him.

He lacks a certain.... quality that the last prospective Kirishima possesses.

Katsuki lifts his chin and stares daggers at his future husband for the very first time.

Red.

Layers and layers of red.

Despite being a man, the last Kirishima is beautiful. Incredibly so, Katsuki thinks with a flush. Not that he's fucking noticing.

Him and the silver haired bastard probably share a birthing day--since they look so similar.

Similar, but very different.

To the Vikings, the Bride's hair symbolized sexuality. So the longer and more ornamental it was, the better off the marriage was supposed to be.

This Kirishima's hair falls down to his midback. He doesn't have the usual bridal crown but+

+ crystals and glass beads are tied in the strands until it falls in a thick fishtail

He's dressed in some weird Southern robe, with long red sleeves and a deep V neck. It's cinched around the waist with a solid gold belt

He's barefoot, not in boots, and his toes are inked red.

Katsuki wonders how long Kirishima spent getting ready comparatively. Did he have to take such a long bath? They both have ink on their faces (Red and black respectively) did Kirishima have to sit completly still for an hour while someone drew the symbols for the Gods?

Not that he cares about Kirishima traditions. He's just... thinking.

Katsuki wasn't expecting.... this.

He wasn't expecting a huge warrior //husband// with deep red eyes.

His mother had annoyingly kept him out of the negotiations since it was HER village she was getting alliance for and that's all this was-- a legal transaction.

Cw: brief mention of animal sacrifice, blood

Denki holds up a hollowed ox horn as Katsuki stares.

It's full of the blood of the sacrifice Denki made this morning while high and communicating with the Gods on this marriage.

Kami says a few words, calling on the Gods. Katsuki hears them echo in a different language before he's instructed to coat his fingers and drip blood on their statues. Denki coats own forehead before he dips a stick and splatters both Katsuki and his Kirishima with the offering.

Katsuki tastes blood on his lips.

Is it the worst thing that's going to be on them tonight?

Kirishima's vows aren't the same. Not that Katsuki spent days obsessing over his--they're just the traditional Bakugou clan vows. Usually, the happy couple ad libs some sweet words, but this isn't a usual marriage and Katsuki has no sweet words.

Kirishima's vows are /intense/

Denki has made the most of the cultural differences between them. No Kirishima had stepped forward to handbind, so Kami just binded Katsuki's hands together

The Gods will forgive the slight, or they won't and /oh no so sad/ the marriage will fail.

When Kirishima steps forward all the air in the already stuffy mead hall gets sucked out.

He towers over Katsuki, big as fuck and imposing. When his hands come up Katsuki doesn't have a clue what to expect.

The way Kirishima clutches his jaws in his large hands shocks him.

His hold is tight, like he's holding something precious and highly breakable. Like he's terrified of a treasure getting loose and slipping through his fingers.

His stare is unwavering, hot. Intense like standing too close to a burning pyre.

His voice is deep, controlled. Every syllable is intended and he never once looks away or stutters.

With every move of his lips Katsuki finds himself falling forward into inked palms until Kirishima is the only thing holding him up.

He doesn't have a fucking clue what he's saying. Not one. No one said anything about struggling over a language barrier as well as a cultural one and as soon as Kirishima lets him take a breath that doesn't smell like the same birch twigs he bathed in, he's going to be pissed.

Yeah. As soon as Kirishima steps back.

Kirishima makes a liar out of him though, because when he's done with the heated words, his gaze drops down to Katsuki's lips and every single insult Katsuki was going to shout falls off his tongue.

Was Kirishima thinking of kissing him?

Kirishima steps back, without a kiss, and snaps his fingers. The bracelets hidden under his robe sleeve jingle as he holds out his hand for a box.

He cradles it gently, but no where to the same degree of care he held Katsuki's face.

The box is thrusted out between them and Kaminari reaches over to untie Katsuki's hands so he can accept the wedding gift.

The box is delicate, with a fragile parchment sticking out of the edges.

Katsuki's about to open it, when Kirishima's finger tips up his chin and his other hand brushes down the black lines painting the bridge of his nose and under his eyes.

He whispers something soft in the air between them.

"He, uh..." A thin man standing with the Kirishima's translates. "He says he gives you the sword of his family for his wedding gift. For you to fight everything you're building together."

With shaking fingers Katsuki unclips the precious sword he spent the night stealing. He thrusts it out to Kirishima. "Tell him he can fucking have this one. I expect him to fight for us too or whatever."

Kirishima's pleased grin sends a shiver down his spine.

"Fucking finally!" Mitsuki shouts out. "Let's fucking drink!"

There's something to say for /some/ parts of getting married.

Katsuki's been to tons of weddings. His favorite part is the bruð-hlaup. The competition.

Even as a boy he's always loved to watch grownass adults race to the table, throwing elbows so they aren't last.

(No one wants to be last and be forced to be the one that has to serve the drinks of a hundred thirsty vikings)

And although the Kirishima's have no idea what's going on, and are therefore politely excluded, Katsuki loves finally participating and /winning/ the first cup of mead

Also it's funny as fuck that Denki (thanks to a well placed foot of Katsuki's) gets stuck serving the drinks.

The feast is the best part of weddings. One solid week dedicated to binge drinking and stuffing your face with delicacies.

No one fucking does feasts better than the Bakugous. And for Katsuki, they went all out.

The ox that was used for the ceremony has been slow cooking for days. Wives have been working on breads and sides for days. Chickens have been cooked, turkeys have been slaughtered.

The Kirishima's are only seconds behind, but when they arrive to the feast, the Bakugou's are already pestering Denki for refills.

There's music being played loudly in the corner, jovial tunes because this is a /happy/ occasion.

They've secured the Kirishima's in alliance.

And all it took was Katsuki giving up his freedom.

There's seats for the Kirishima's at the head table, two on Mitsuki's right for Kirishima's mother and father. Katsuki is seated at her left, but there's one empty seat next to him for his freshly wed husband.

Kirishima's siblings have seats on the outside with Katsuki's siblings and Kaminari draws up a seat in the middle for their translator.

Katsuki tries to not feel nervous as Kirishima sits down next to him. Katsuki's big, but Kirishima makes the chair look like a child's.

His body radiates heat, like a campfire.

And Katsuki can't even fucking /talk/ to him without some extra being privvy to his conversation.

Kirishima says nothing about his lack of a plate, but maybe he can't.

When they're served food, Katsuki pulls his knife from his hip and tries to not cut his meat like a fucking idiot.

Kirishima watches him curiously, his head tilted like a dog.

When it's cut in a small enough bite, Katsuki stabs it with his knife and offers it to Kirishima.

The redhead watches him, without leaning forward.

"You're supposed to.. fucking eat it." Katsuki lifts the blade over his mouth and snaps his teeth, mocking a bite. He mimes chewing but Kirishima just stares.

Katsuki looks to the translator, but the man is busy speaking to Kirishima's father.

"Fucking..." Katsuki sighs and turns back to his husband. He takes the meat between his lips careful not to accidently eat it and pinches Kirishima's chin before leaning down to the seated man and shoving their lips together with the meat between them.

Katsuki keeps his eyes open. He's careful not to let their lips brush more than a tiny dusting as Kirishima takes the meat.

He tells himself it's not a kiss because of those things and he believes it.

When he pulls away, Kirishima is chewing and Katsuki catches peeks of white sharp teeth.

Katsuki cuts off another piece, this one for himself, and drops it into his mouth with a muffled moan

Holy fuck, it's the best he's ever eaten.

Kirishima watches him as he finishes what's in his mouth and Katsuki takes the hint, and quickly falls into a pattern of feeding them.

One for him, one for Kirishima. One for him, one for Kirishima.

It's easy actually. Effortless to cut off meat for his husband. Especially when Kirishima finally takes from the knife.

Katsuki spears a vegetable with his knife and offers it, but Kirishima refuses with a shake of his head and looks longily at the meat.

Katsuki doesn't stop his chuckle. "A carnivore, huh?"

Kaminari comes round when their plate is clean and a hush falls on the hall.

In his hands is the loving-cup.

The bowl is put between them. It thuds when it's placed on the table and Kirishima sees the way Katsuki flinches.

"Ah! The loving-cup!" Mitsuki announces to the hall, suddenly standing behind Katsuki with her hands on the back of his chair.

She reaches up and unties the embroidered ribbon around her forehead. "I think the last person to drink from the cup was Kayama!" Catcalls fill the room. "Let's hope it was properly washed since then!"

Laughter washes over them as Mitsuki flips the chair around until Katsuki is facing her. She kneels at his feet and smiles.

Her words are soft when she speaks. "Thank you for doing this for us, Katsuki. You have given us ships. An army. A future. I'm sorry that it comes at such a high cost."

While he's still reeling from the first apology she's ever given him, Mitsuki ties her ribbon around his head.

Kaminari fills the loving cup with bridal ale and pushes it across the table.

Katsuki sees his reflection in the liquor, sees the red ink staining his cheeks and messing up his perfectly drawn makeup from where Kirishima held him.

His lips are shiny from mouthwatering meat and he looks half drunk already.

Is this what Kirishima sees when he looks at him?

"Time to share your drink!" Mitsuki says, clapping him on the back as she stands.

It's intimate. Sharing a drink. You both hold the bowl, fingers folded over each other, and faces pressed next to each other.

Will someone have to translate to Kirishima what to do?

Katsuki barely picks up the bowl without spilling what's inside. He holds it between them, and Kirishima's hands come up automatically to help steady it.

They're fingers intertwine and it feels... good.

Kirishima says something short, clipped. And Katsuki looks behind him to the translator for clarity--

The bowl tips and Katsuki immeadiately jerks around. But it's not spilling, well it /is/ but into Kirishima's open mouth and not the floor.

The hall goes silent as Kirishima fills his mouth. No one's ever seen someone do the loving-cup wrong. Katsuki sees some of their expressions hold shock and he hopes it doesn't morph into offense.

Kirishima grabs his chin then, and Katsuki watches a line of amber liquid slide from the corner of his lips before he leans in.

Kirishima pushes their lips together, much as Katsuki did with the food eariler, except this time when Katsuki's mouth fills with drink and he swallows, Kirishima doesnt pull away.

He brushes their lips together again.

The hall explodes into cheers.

Katsuki's face doesn't fade from bright red. Infact, it only spreads as the night goes on longer, as they drink enough mead to drown a man, and as Kirishima's hand slowly finds it's way to Katsuki's thigh.

Kirishima's finally lifting the cup to his own lips and satiating his own thirst. He's flushed too, and the slightly long nails on his hand dance over Katsuki's thigh.

They've eaten enough to explode, watched Kaminari flirt with the Kirishima silver brother for an hour, and listened to Shinsou sing "Katsuki the Kirishima Killer" on the lute eleven times.

Bakugou's thankful as all hell that Kirishima doesn't speak Viking, because if he did he'd be running for the hills when the bard shouted, "and Katsuki couldn't believe his luck.. when his mother brought home a Kirishima for him to fuck!" while everyone in the hall drunkily sang.

Katsuki doesn't know if Kirishima's been told of the... consecration. Maybe they're both biding time, pretending to still be hungry and thirsty instead of advancing the wedding.

https://twitter.com/ruingreystreak/status/1293642557210218498?s=19

The top: https://twitter.com/ruingreystreak/status/1293289020076756995?s=19

Cw: public sex
Also this is bottom Bakugou. What can I say? Giant Kirishima needs to top him. (This time)

"My name's Katsuki." He eventually confesses, as the hall is starting to clear out. There's a number of people passed out from too much mead and others are stumbling out the door. Soon it'll just be stragglers and the wedding party.

His mother shoots him a pointed look.

They can't stall any longer.

"What's your name?" Katsuki asks as he reaches down and removes Kirishima's hand from his leg.

He can't think with it there and he needs his wits about him for this.

He shifts his chair closer until their knees bump together. "Katsuki," he reillerates, thumping his chest. He lays his hand on Kirishima's solid pec and taps. Godsdamn....

"And you are?"

Kirishima's fingers curl around the hand Katsuki has on his chest and his lips curve into a grin. "Eijirou," he says in a throaty purr, slightly accented with the same dialect as his parents.

Eijirou.

Fucccckkkk.

"I... shit. I fucking like your name." Katsuki confesses for no damn reason. "That thing you did with the 'r' is fuckin'...."

//Sexy//.

Eijirou just keeps looking at him with that smile.

"Listen... fuck. We have to, I mean, we're expected to.... shit."

Eijirou says no words, but the rumble he makes in his throat as he pulls Katsuki's hand to lay over his shoulder and draw him closer says he understands what Katsuki's trying to say.

Relieved that he gets it, Katsuki shifts closer. Kirishima's almost on top of him now, bent over him and sweeping his hands up and down Katsuki's side.

His hand smooths down, and his nails scrape back up.

"Look, I don't know how Southerns do it. But we--"

A wave of desire lights up Katsuki's chest when Kirishima suddenly stands, shoving his chair behind him, loudly scrapping on the wood stage.

Faster than anyone has the capability to process, Kirishima yanks Katsuki out of his chair into his arms. Dishes rattle on the table and cups fall over when Eijirou slams Katsuki's back into the surface.

The body slam robs Katsuki of breath, and he tries to inhale, but Eijirou is leaning in to lave his hot tongue on the column of Bakugou's throat and there's no way he can breathe anything other than the scent of his new husband.

"Fuck wait, fuck--"

Eijirou doesn't wait.

Buttons pop off and ding against plates when Kirishima rips his shirt in half.

"Mother/fuck/--" Katsuki shouts, bringing his knee up between them to shove Kirishima back.

He can see movement out of the corner of his eye and he hates it. //Hates// that there are people playing witness to this.

He can hear them, the sounds of their casual conversations in his ears as Kirishima effortlessly severs the ties that hold his pants together.

"Fuckin' /wait/, you bastard!" Katsuki shouts, pushing himself up on shaky arms. He lifts his chests off the table until he's fully sitting.

It doesn't last.

Kirishima's hand slaps against his collarbone and shoves him back down. He pushes against it, but goddamn Kirishima's a fucking beast. His arm is like a steel bar.

"Be good," Kirishima snaps.

Was that...? Did that motherfucker just COMMAND him like an animal?

Fuck him and his gorgeous face!

"You--/ah!/" Katsuki's eyes roll back in his head when Kirishima bends down to sink his teeth into the skin of Katsuki's thigh as soon as he exposes the skin. "You talk, you piece of shit--mmpf."

Kirishima's hand clamps down on Katsuki's lips. Without breaking eye contact he leans in and kisses his own hand.

Katsuki knows what he's doing, he's trying to soothe, to tease, and it's working. It's working so incredibly well.

With his freehand, he jerks Katsuki's pants the rest off the way off. Bakugou doesn't have a second to feel shame at being exposed, at being practically naked except his cloak, mere feet away from his own mother and Kirishima's parents before Kirishima is flipping him again.

Immediately Katsuki's rapidly hardening cock is trapped against his stomach and the table. He's thankful for it, despite the uncomfortablness. At least this way if someone were to look over, they wouldn't see his cock.

Katsuki shoots a look down the table. Thank fuck, his siblings are gone. Infact of the royal family, only their parents remain. They're focused on their conversation, not the new couple, and Katsuki vows he's not going to make a godsdamn sound and draw attention to them.

He turns his head and quickly whispers, "Fast, you fucking hear me? Get in and get out. I don't want to fucking do this in front everyone. And you're fucking //mine// after this."

Kirishima is not to be controlled, clearly, because he drops to his knees despite the command. His own pants are opened and he reaches inside to pull his cock out into the air as he leans up on his knees and buries his face in Katsuki's ass.

It's humiliating, to be eaten at the same table they ate their wedding feast moments ago. But nothing stops Kirishima Eijirou. He takes what he wants.

And what he wants is to make Katsuki scream.

At the first touch of Eijirou's tongue, Katsuki has to sink his teeth into his own bicep. He buries his face in his arms, tries to muffle the immeadiate groans he desperately wants to let sound.

He's never had this before. Never even /thought/ something like this could be good.

The friction of Kirishima's tongue is both smooth and wet. He's relentless from the first lick, taking broad strokes with the flat of his tongue. His chest rumbles against the back's of Katsuki's thighs adding to the pleasure.

*He* clearly doesn't care to be loud.

The slick sounds of sex reaches Katsuki's ears and it feels deafening. He hears every suck -ah fuck yes like that!- and it's fucking heady.

There's no mistaking what they're doing now.

Katsuki's flushed cheek presses into the table as he looks to the side. The translator's brown eyes clash with his for a second, maybe a half of one, and molten lava clouds Katsuki's gut.

He shivers as Eijirou's fingers claw into the meat of his ass. He almost loses his hold on his arm, so he slams his lids closed.

He fucking knows he can't control his blush, or the way his eyes roll around in his head.

He doesn't want to see them watching him.

Shutting his eyes was worse.

Katsuki could feel Eijirou's hot breath, every desperate flick of his hard tongue. There was no rhythm to it, just intense hunger, as Eijirou bumped the table, thrusting his hips up against air, no doubt imagining being balls deep in the blonde's ass

"FUCK!" Katsuki shouts in a strangled cry, ripping his teeth free of his arm as Kiri's tongue spears inside him. His chest thrashes against the table and it shakes, the sound of more dishes clattering.

With a tense growl, Eijirou's arm slams down on the small of Katsuki's back.

He pushes down hard, going to his knees to both give a more agressive thrust of his tongue and keep Katsuki pinned under him.

His cock brushes Katsuki's calf, wet and truly /burning/ hot. It leaves a trail of precum and the air on it makes Bakugou cry out.

"You're fucking delicious," Kirishima snarls into him, pulling back to press a finger over his hole and tease it with the pad of his finger. "Like godsdamn caramel. I'm going to eat you out every damn day of our life."

Oh /Gods/.

Katsuki's back bows. He's so close! The shock of Kirishima speaking Northern, his rough accent making every word a sensual growl plus the /words/ he was saying....

Oh gods.

He's going to come on the table. In front of everyone.

Laughter from the right, draws his attention away from his new husband and his orgasm.

A servant girl is chuckling at something Kirishima's father is saying.

How are they all so casual when he's getting tongue fucked out of his mind?

"Pay attention to me," Kirishima growls, slipping his index finger inside. When it presses inside wet, pulsing flesh, he rasps, "/Tight/."

Tears burn in Katsuki's eyes. Kirishima's finger is thick and he's never had anything inside him and--

Kirishima pulls back one and wedges in two.

"Fuck!"

Heat ripples across Katsuki's skin. He's gonna cum. Holy fuck, it burns, but it's good, it's so godsdamn good.

Kirishima stands then, careful not to remove his fingers. His cock slaps against Katsuki's ass, laying hot on the curve of it, flesh throbbing and dripping precum.

His mouth presses against the back of Katsuki's neck, his sharp teeth scrapping. "I'm gonna make you cum."

"N-no," Katauki gasps. His hips have a kind of their own, betraying his words, and he mindlessly rocks back into Kirishima's hand to take his fingers deeper.

He refuses to cum. He's not going to out here, where everyone can see. Kirishima has to take him, *he* has to cum.

Katsuki can wait.

He can cum later. If Kirishima wants to do this again.

Katsuki can top /him/. And then he'll cum. When it's just the two of them.

"No?" Eijirou chuckles, the laugh dark in Katsuki's ear. "You're so close already, mate. If I just.. curve my.. fingers.."

A hint of pleasure has Katsuki's lungs stalling. Kirishima's fingers press deep.

It's the best thing Katsuki's ever felt in his life.

It's terrifying.

"S-stop!" Katsuki whimpers, pulling his hips back as best as he's able being pressed against the table.

Ei's fingers slip out. Katsuki feels air on his exposed and opened hole and it makes his cheeks darken.

He pushes himself up on his arms and shoots a glare over his shoulder.

Shock is plastered on Eijirou's face. Confusion, too.

Clearly he didn't think Katsuki was actually /serious/. Like the word *stop* is something lovers throw out without conviction.

Except it could be. Katsuki doesn't have a fucking clue what's normal sex words.

Kirishima's wet fingers curl into his palm. Is he missing the feel of Katsuki clenching around them already?

A clearing of a throat has them both looking over. Ah yeah. Their audience.

"Is there a problem?" Kirishima's father asks, a goblet of mead held in front of his lips.

He does a good job of keeping his gaze on their faces but it hits Katsuki how exposed he is.

"Katsuki?" His mother asks, fishing for a response.

Fuck.

They all clearly think he's reneging this deal. But stop doesn't mean "hey actually fuck you, we aren't fucking." To him. It means "please don't make me cum for the first time in front of people who aren't you."

Motherfucker.

Katsuki scrubs a hand down his tired face.

He doesn't want to... be soft or whatever. But like hell he isn't getting his point across. So Katsuki turns and pulls Kirishima close, guiding him towards his face with a hand on the back of his neck.

The big fucker looks like a kicked puppy, shame and sadness on his face at the removal of his treat.

Katsuki gives an exsaperated sigh as he softly presses their lips together. He breathes in the scent of a stone warmed from the sun with a pleased hum.

Against his lips, just loud enough to be heard by Eijirou, and /only/ his husband, Katsuki murmurs. "I've never...."

Kirishima jerks from his lips, his eyes wide. "Never?" He gasps, a little too loud for Katsuki's liking.

Now is not the place to admit to maybe once or ten times waking up from sleep already cumming over the years.

But everyone of those times were completely unintentional, and against his will, so Katsuki answers, "Never."

It's the truth. Besides those sleep induced times.

He's never once cum by his own hand or someone else's. He could say he's never had the time but honestly he's never found someone worth it.

Until now.

"Oh." Eijirou says excitedly against his lips. "Got it." He presses a quick kiss to Katsukis lips. "Trust me."

Katsuki's pulls some of Kirishima hair free of his braids to hold in his fingers. "I fucking do. I just don't want to-"

Kirishima kisses him again, quick. "I got you."

"Can you take one more finger?" Eijirou asks, under the veil of his own hair. The red curtain sheilds their conversation away from still prying eyes. "I'll be careful. Slow."

Katsuki drops his forehead to Kirishima's shoulder with a groan. "Can't you just shove it in me?"

With a strained laugh, Eijirou responds, "Not if you want to walk tomorrow."

"Tch. A cock isn't going to defeat me--"

Ei's fingers wrap around Katsuki's to drag his hand down to his shaft. At his first touch, Katsuki's eyes go heavy lidded and his hand closes automatically.

It's fucking thick.

Hot.

Wet.

"Godsdamn." He says with another squeeze to the hard flesh.

Eijirou's hips buck into the table and he lets out a breathless chuckle. "Yeah."

"It's /huge./" Katsuki spits, like a curse.

"Yeah." Kirishima says with red cheeks. "All Kirishima's are."

"It's... really fucking wet." Katsuki says awkwardly. He thought only girls produced this much cum to prepare for sex? He's never heard of a male getting wet.

"I cum alot." Kirishima whispers, huskily. "It's going to leak out of you for hours."

Oh... gods.

"Just fucking hurry." Katsuki commands. "I want to go to our room."

With a nod, Kirishima gives him one last kiss, before pulling his thigh on his hip.

During their chat, Katsuki's cock has flagged a little. It's still quiet firm, because Eijirou's hot and his kisses are nice.

Luckily, the conversation also prevented him from being embarassed that he's now on his back, and his cock is exposed for everyone to see.

Now that the talking is over, he realizes it.

Vikings have never really made a big deal about nudity, and Katsuki has walked in on enough people fucking throughout his lifetime.

People fuck against houses in town. The fuck in the Great Hall. They fuck in stables and in the mountains he goes hiking in.

It's natural but Katsuki's never wanted to be like those people. He's a private godsdamn person. He wants his reactions and expressions reserved for ONLY the person he's laying with.

He's possessive too, he's just now realizing. And he doesn't want to share Eijirou with anyone.

"Bury your face in my neck when you come," he growls, pulling hard on Eijirou's hair. He wants it to hurt so his idiot remembers even when he's cumming his brains out. "Hear me?"

"Yes, mate." He agrees, with a satsified smirk. "I hear you."

"Good."

Katsuki gives a last pull, before he falls back on the table. His cock slaps against his stomach, and it has him looking over with wide eyes to see if they're all still looking.

Kirishima stops him with his hand on his chin. He draws his eyes back up and he smiles with shark teeth. "Look at me. Not them."

Without another word, Eijirou sucks his two fingers into his mouth. He quickly pulls them out, dripping with spit.

They slide inside Katsuki, warm.

Eijirou does a good job of opening Katsuki up slow and fast at the same time. It's dizzying, the way he thrusts his fingers in deep and controlled, followed by the quick way he spreads them apart and teases a third.

He avoids that spot inside Katsuki that had him near cumming eariler. He's starting to pant, tongue swiping his lips, and when he pushes his fingers in too deep on accident and Katsuki's cock pulses for it, a bead of sweat falls from his face and drips on Katsuki.

He's losing control.

Tension manifests in his jaw, in the way it clenches and hardens. His chest is doing that rumbling thing, before he cuts it off. It starts again as he gets three fingers in, and for a second his face changes.

Because Kirishima's fingers still hold his chin, Katsuki has a front seat to the way his eyes flicker. The red in them swirls, and the black snaps like shattered glass.

It takes Katsuki's fucking breath.

If he had brain power he'd wonder why it's happening /now/ and not eariler when Kirishima was opening him up.

Is it because he knows Katsuki wants this? Or because he now knows Katsuki's only ever belonged to him?

Or is looking down into Katsuki's eyes unraveling him?

The red deepens as Katsuki watches. It must be godly magic the way the crimson becomes reflective, like a coon's eyes under firelight.

He's a beast. An animal.

And he acts like it.

The more Kirishima's eyes dialate and expand, the more aggressive he becomes until Katsuki's stunned at the growls and chuffs.

He whines weakly, tries to pull on Ei's hair to get him to stop. To calm down.

He looks dangerous. Feral.

It's about to bring Katsuki off.

"E-ei, /fuck/." Katsuki twitches, his head almost falling back, but Kirishima growls and yanks it back up. His breath is punching out of his lungs. He's never been so aware of his own breath before but it sounds like he's struggling under a ten ton weight. "Slow, Ei, slow-/ah!/"

With an angry nip to his bottom lip, Kirishima keeps thrusting his fingers. He's less careful now, and when Katsuki's hips chase his hand he feels a brush of his prostate. No! No no no.

"Ei, fuck, Ei. Ei." Katsuki pants, fumbling to slap at Eijirou's hand. He needs to stop. He needs to stop before he makes Katsuki cum.

The table shifts back now, with every thrust of his fingers.

Are people ignoring the way their plates get further and further away?

There's a laugh and somewhere someone says, "Wow, it looks like they're getting along now."

Shame fills Katsuki's chest and it makes him irrationally angry. He grabs the anger with both hands and cleaves to it.

Like /hell/ he's letting Kirishima make him cum in front of these fucking extras. He might not even let Kirishima make him cum at all, the stupid fucking liz--

When Kirishima's hand tries to line them back up for 'super special eye contact time' Katsuki rips his face away and simks his teeth into Kirishima's flesh.

Fuck. Him.

Kirishima lets out a /roar./

It's on purpose when his hand slips from Katsuki's face and curls around his throat instead. He feels like prey, Eijirou's prey, as his husband folds himself over Katsuki.

His body trembles in excitement when he leans down, even though he's pissed. He wants Eijirou's kiss, wants his filthy fucking teeth to cut his lips. Wants to taste blood in his mouth.

He wants feral intensity.

He wants to see how much he can take without breaking.

Katsuki parts his lips on a gasp as Eijirou's squeezes his throat. It's not very hard, he can fucking take it.

He wants /more/.

"F-fuckin--" his sentence cuts off in a gasp. "Pussy." He antagonizes.

Kirishima's eyes lose all black. The red bleeds over, swallowing his pupils.

And when he squeezes this time in makes Katsuki lightheaded.

It doesn't last, not nearly as long as he wants, before Kirishima's letting him breathe. He takes a gasping breath, and Kirishima's hand tightens again.

Katsuki's mouth falls open on a silent cry. He watches Kirishima with his gorgeous, freaky eyes. Watches as he leans forward and grips Katsuki's jaw.

Watches as he spits into his mouth.

"Swallow." He orders.

Every single cell in Katsuki's body drowns, overwelmed with pleasure.

Katsuki's hands collide with Kirishima's chest. Panic curls, and his eyes widen. He's... oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

His fingers grip and tear at Kirishima's shirt until tan skin peeks through red material.

Eijirou's still wearing his clothes. His pants are just barely opened.

He's fully dressed and Katsuki's naked except his cape.

It makes Eijirou feel so much more /powerful/. He just /spit in his mouth./

Katsuki is /nothing/. Just Eijirou's.

Eijirou. Eijirou.

Blood wells under Katsuki's nails. He digs them into Kirishima's pecs. He deserves it. Deserves everything Katsuki does to him

"Coming!" He gasps, eyes rolling back in his head. He doesn't want to, oh gods, he doesn't, but he's pretty sure that heat is-"please!" He sobs. "E-Ei."

Tears leak from the corners of his eyes, smearing beautiful black ink his people spent hours on. His hips thrust up, chasing the pleasure even though he wants it to stop, wait no, not stop, he wants more, so much more, wants Eijirou's fat cock, fuck--

Katsuki's tears slide down and wet the edges of Kirishima's hand. His brows draw together as he lets go and draws his palm to his face. His fingers slow and Katsuki whines and thrusts faster to make up for it.

Eijirou looks confused to see the tears and when his gaze flicks to Katsuki's face, the black in his eyes returns for a second, bringing clarity.

But it's too late

Because Katsuki's too busy, face flushed pink, spit on his mouth, eyes rolling up. Swept away in his first orgasm.

Katsuki goes cross eyed at the compiling pleasure. It gathers in his guts, building and building, until it reaches a precipice. He knows the fall is going to change him, overwelm him, and he opens his mouth to /scream/.

And he does, he fucking does, but not because of relief.

But because Kirishima's fucking hand cinches around the base of his cock and brings everything to a screeching halt.

Katsuki's mind can't catch up with what happened. He felt so good, he was so close, and now it's all just /gone/.

/Ruined./

His cock throbs in Eijirou's grip and ot hurts, he wants to come.

No! No he doesn't want to cum. He wants to breath out a sigh of thanks.

So why do his eyes fill with tears then?

"Ei." He whimpers. /whimpers/. Who the fuck is he?

What has Eijirou done to him?

"Sorry," he says immediately, softly. Genuinely. "Couldn't... Didn't mean to." He gives Katsuki a second to come down, pressing soft kisses under his eyes and on the corner of his lips. "Sorry. Sorry."

"Fuck..." Katsuki says, his voice still thick. He sags against the table and tries to fucking breathe.

"Sorry." Eijirou says for the ninth time. He finally removes his hand off Katsuki's cock, and precum leaks down the shaft. "I'm so sorry, mate."

Katsuki throws an arm over his face. "It's fine," he says gruffily. "Didn't fucking come."

"Still sorry." Kirishima says with another kiss.

Katsuki hmphs. "Yeah well... fucking split me open and get us out of here. No more fucking around."

"Okay." Eijirou flips Katsuki again, so that his chest is back against the table. He pulls him down, until his hips hang over the side. "Sorry again." He whispers.

Holding Katsuki's hip tightly in one hand, Eijirou slowly feeds his shaft inside. The tip presses hot against Katsuki's stretched entrance.

Refusing to make a sound Katsuki bites the back of his hand.

Cw: could be read as dubcon

The beginning: https://twitter.com/ruingreystreak/status/1293289020076756995?s=19

Kiri's fingers had been a little uncomfortable for a brief second, but it's nothing compared to the insistant pressure of Eijirou's huge cock.

His spit has practically dried and even though he keeps wetting his fingers and rubbing them around Katsuki's stretched hole it hurts.

But he's not going to be a bitch about it, because that'll take more time and Katsuki just wants to get into his bed so he can enjoy Kirishima privately.

"Fuck." Eijirou groans, his sweaty forehead dropping to Katsuki's back. Every muscle in his body is clamped down tight and he's desperately fishing for control. "You have to /relax./"

Katsuki growls, and releases his teeth from his skin to bark, "Fuck you, /you/ relax!"

There's a low growl in warning and Katsuki briefly shivers which makes Eijirou mouth sloppily at his shoulders.

Another inch and Katsuki only winds tighter. It's more than uncomfortable now, but he's not giving up. He's going to swallow the pathetic whines in his throat and brush away the stupid tears in his eyes.

He's going to take Kirishima's stupid dick.

Except Kirishima's next thrust doesn't get him any further. Katsuki's tight, too tight, and Eijirou collapses against him when he realizes he's gonna have to pull out and start over.

Fuck.

A tap on Katsuki's arm has him peeling his face out of the shadows he's created. It takes him longer than he'd like to admit to focus on the hazy outline of the person in front of him.

Denki.

"What." Katsuki says, avoiding eye contact. He doesn't /want/ to have a godsdamn conversation when his husband's dick is a quarter of the way up his ass for the first time.

Kaminari looks as spacey as ever, and smells of godly herbs, looking down at Katsuki with a stupified expression.

He thanks the gods that at least Denki isn't going to remember this conversation-- and if he does it'll be only briefly before he's "communing with the gods next."

"Here." Denki says with a bright laugh, dropping a bottle of a blue liquid on the table. It sparks in the flame light and Katsuki almost bats the blonde's pity gift to the ground.

But he doesn't.

"It's lubrication. It'll get him in you in seconds." His eyes sparkle. "Totally okay for swallowing too."

It's then that Kirishima must take notice to Denki. Katsuki doesn't know how he didn't see the gothi when he approached but he does now, and he's fucking /angry/.

It all happens at once.

Kirishima leaps over his back, his cock jamming deeper. Katsuki arches his back, a soundless cry on his tongue. The deadly points of Eijirou's teeth whip towards Kaminari's arm, and the leather bracer he wears is barely going to a damn thing to stop them.

At the last second, a pale hand grabs Denki's arm and shoots it up out of reach.

Eijirou snarls, pissed that he didn't get to /eat/ Kaminari like he wanted, didn't get to defend his mate and Katsuki doesn't have to look behind him to kmow his eyes are freaky again.

Ei's brother stands to the side, Kaminari's wrist still clutched in his hand

Katsuki sees people out of the corner of his eye freeze, sees the bard put down his lute like he too plans on coming closer.

If anybody else so much as moves //Katsuki// is going to be the one to bite.

Kirishima's brother snarls something in Southern. His eyes are locked over Katsuki's shoulder, his words aimed at Eijirou.

Katsuki doesn't speak Kirishima, but his tone has him bristling. He fucking //knows// the silver fuck just said something about him.

So Katsuki flicks up his middle finger.

He won't need a translator for that, it's a common hand gesture.

Kirishima rumbles something back. The words are fond, accompanied by his face rubbing against Katsuki.

Katsuki's chest flutters.

The fuck is that? Why... why does he suddenly want to kiss Eijirou?

And not their earlier fight of lips and tongue and teeth. No, he wants to spend his time pecking his mouth and sighing against his lips.

"Ei. Come on." Katsuki says, shoving his feelings down as he puts the cork of Denki's bottle in his mouth and spits it out. He reaches behind him blindly and spills the entire bottle over his crack.

It drops on the floor, slicks the back of his thighs. It soaks everything.