Okay, a little snack for @HimbosOnly - daddy riot universe, TetsuKiriBaku, age gap, dom/sub undertones, swinging, probable a whole lot of degradation, dirty talk, body worship, maybe a little biting - we’ll see where the night brings us

Tetsu checks his silver-white hair in the rear-view mirror of his car, tilted it to see that his button-down shirt wasn’t too wrinkled. Not that he was nervous—not for himself. For his bro, for his long-time best friend, because basically for the first time since they were

kids fresh out of college, Tetsu was coming over to meet Red Riot’s partner. Not a fling, not a fuck buddy, not another pretty escort at the hero ball, an honest-to-god, live-in boyfriend.

Riot wasn’t really the dating type. Not that he was a player, really. Only freaks like

Hawks and Monoma had time for that between hero work. No, it’s because Riot was a big old softie, and he only played for keeps. It made him sad to spend more than a night or two with someone he couldn’t see himself dating long-term.

So the fact that this one already moved in was a big deal indeed.

Big enough that Tetsu put on a good shirt for his introduction. Big enough that he splurged on a /very/ nice bottle of merlot—because if Kirishima liked this guy enough to live with him, then Tetsu had

better get the guy to like him too, cause this one was a keeper.

He smooths his hair down one more time, grateful that his natural grey hid the streaks of white that were slowly creeping up his temples. He looks all right. Hot, even, with his thick chest straining the buttons of his dark grey dress shirt, slacks just tight enough

to hug the bulk of his thighs.

Not that the point was to look hot. It’s just, maybe Tetsu’s a little bit naturally competitive. And him and Eiji, back in college—well, Eiji found him hot enough then. And yeah, maybe he wants to measure up against this boy toy. Or at the very

least, he wants to hold his own.

He tucks the bottle of merlot in the crook of his arm and heads up to Eijirou’s apartment. Gives himself another moment to temper himself, then knocks on the door.

A voice that isn’t Eiji’s yells “coming!” There’s a thump and an angry curse. A bang, a pot on the stove maybe. A few heavy footsteps, and then the door opens.

On quite possibly the hottest kid Tetsu’s ever seen in all his thirty-seven years on god’s green earth.

The kid’s average height, but his presence is immediately overwhelming. He’s bulky at the arms and shoulders and lean through the waist, like a gymnast or a ballet danseur. His eyes are slim, almond-shaped, intense as hell and red like fire, even redder than Eiji’s.

His face is beautiful and masculine at once, strong jaw and high cheekbones, but his cheeks are soft and hairless like he can’t quite grow a beard and why is Tetsu thinking about that when the kid is obviously way too young for him anyway. He averts his eyes, and that was a

mistake, because now he can’t unsee the shape of pert little nipples straining at the thin fabric of the kid’s black v-neck tee and the /fucking piercings/ framing each one.

“Eyes up here, big guy,” the kid says, and fuck, his /voice./

“Shit, sorry, I uh,” Tetsu says, holding out the wine bottle. “Is Eijirou, I mean, is Kirishima—“

“You the dinner guest?” the kid says, snatching the bottle. “C’mon inside, he’s in the shower.”

Tetsu follows the kid inside, willing his blush down. Some start to the evening.

“Have a seat. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Tetsu tucks himself into a bar chair at the kitchen island and seriously rethinks his choice of tight slacks. The kid opens the bottle of wine and sets it on the island, movements quick and efficient and practiced and god that’s sexy on a kid his age. He flits around the

kitchen—which smells /incredible/, so good it makes Tetsu’s stomach growl—checking rice, stirring pots, even gazing at the oven window where something else is baking. It’s a bad thought, that the kid’s ass looks like a meal itself as he bends over to adjust whatever’s

in the oven, but god Tetsu has to get his info from Eiji when the food’s done. He’s been wanting a personal chef anyway, and the kid can obviously cook.

“You want some of this?” the kid says, nodding at the wine. He gives Tetsu a once-over and oh no, no, slacks were

an awful choice indeed. “You look more like a beer kinda guy.”

“Beer’s great,” Tetsu says, pointedly looking anywhere but at the kid’s muscular forearms as he wipes his hands on a dish towel.

The kid pulls an IPA from the fridge and goes to open it, and Tetsu curses himself for his own shamelessness when he reaches out a big hand and says, “Let me,” because he hasn’t pulled this move since college, and this kid could very well /be/ in college—but he takes

the beer and sticks it in his mouth, cap and all, and pops it with his hardened teeth.

The kid raises his eyebrows as he pours himself a glass of merlot. But there’s a little smile threatening to lift those pretty lips of his, so Tetsu mentally pats himself on the back.

“C’mon, baby, you know you’re not old enough to drink that,” comes a voice from behind them, and Tetsu really hopes that his dear old friend didn’t see him flirting with the hired help, because that’s not manly at all.

Wait.

Baby?

“You gonna arrest me, Red Riot?” the kid says, lifting the glass to his lips.

Eijirou pads into the room bare-foot, wearing a pair of dark joggers and a Deku-themed muscle shirt. His hair’s still damp from the shower, falling over his shoulders and down his back in shaggy tendrils and it’s only been a little while since they worked together last but Tetsu

feels his chest tighten at the sight of him. Eijirou throws a big arm around Tetsu’s shoulder and grins so wide it crinkles his nose.

“Ei,” Tetsu says, clapping him on the back.

“So fucking good to see you, man,” Eiji says. “I see you’ve already met Bakugou.”

The kid, Bakugou, lifts his wine glass, then takes a long gulp that makes the muscles of his neck flex and Tetsu’s brain has just about had it, because this couldn’t, he couldn’t possibly, not when—

“This guy’s one hundred precent as dumb as I expected,” Bakugou says, swirling

the wine in the glass. “But he’s hotter than you said he was.”

“Hey!” Tetsu growls.

“First of all, rude,” Eijirou says, voice dropping low, and wow, it’s been a long time since Tetsu heard /that/ tone of voice. “Second of all, you have a type, you little brat.”

“I sure do,” Bakugou says, setting his drink down so he can turn back to the food on the stove.

“Sorry about him,” Eijirou whispers, pulling Tetsu close with the arm around his shoulder. “He’s trying to get a rise out of me tonight, but he’s really a good kid.”

“He’s—/that’s/ your new boyfriend?” Tetsu whispers back, and he can feel a headache coming on, because he expected a lot of things out of the night, but this wasn’t anywhere close.

“Yeah,” Eiji sighs, and he’s got that dumb lovestruck look on his face that he used to

get watching old Crimson Riot movies, which is how Tetsu knows that he’s completely past the point of no return.

“I just can’t believe it. He’s like, I mean, he’s so—“

“Rude?”

“No, he’s—“

“Beautiful?”

“/Young,/ Eiji. He’s young.”

Eijirou winces and drops his arm. He takes a seat next to Tetsu at the kitchen island, and somewhere in the gorgeous choreography of cooking, Bakugou slides a drink in front of him before he turns his back on them again, the clatter of plates and knives and a big wooden

spoon filling the space of the kitchen.

“He’s special though,” Eijirou whispers, turning the cup in his hands.

“Bro, you said he’s not old enough to drink? And you really think—“

“So you wouldn’t? Like, if you had the chance?” Eijirou says, eyebrows raised. His face is soft

and just a little curious and damn. Tetsu is weak to that face. And they’ve shared so much, they’ve been through so much, and it’s not like he could ever lie to Eijirou anyway and get away with it, so he rolls his eyes and says,

“Of /course/ I would, dude. Fuck. I have

eyes. It’s just, to date someone that young—“

“But /you’re/ not dating him,” Eijirou says, just a touch forceful, just the hint of a growl in his tone, and that’s not doing much to help Tetsu gather his thoughts.

“But /you/ are, like—“

“Just fucking ask him,” Bakugou says,

glancing at them from over his shoulder. “Didn’t you say straightforwardness is manly?”

Eijirou bares his teeth like he wants to attack the feisty little blonde, and frankly, Tetsu can relate. But then Eijirou knocks back his whole drink in one go and slams the cup down

so hard it makes Tetsu jump.

“Bro,” Eiji says, looking up at Tetsu with a somber look in his eyes. “It’s been too fucking long since we had a real sit down, you and me. You know I love you right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Tetsu says, fidgeting with his beer. “Love you too man.”

“Good. So you know I wouldn’t like, pressure you into anything you weren’t into. But like, remember Denki?”

Tetsu chokes on his beer mid-sip.

“And I know that was years ago, but like, could you, hypothetically, at this point in time, see yourself in a situation like that?”

Tetsu feels the sweat drip down his back. Of course he remembers Denki. He could never forget, though sometimes he tried. Hypothetically...if him, and his bro, and a bratty little blonde—

“With HIM?” Tetsu shouts, shiny waves of hardening drifting over his hands.

“It’s a simple yes or no question,” Bakugou growls, and Tetsu hates himself for it but he looks the kid down and up and down again. He’s leaning back against the stove with his arms crossed over his thick chest, and his sweatpants are slung low on his trim little waist, and

every part of him from the messy blonde hair that falls in his eyes to his bare feet on the tile floor is gorgeous, so casually beautiful that it almost hurts to look at him. And /he’s/ looking at /them/ with this singular intensity, with a predatory glint in his

pretty red eyes that makes Tetsu feel like it isn’t the two grown men with two feet and about two hundred pounds and twenty years on this kid between them that have the power here. He knows that he could snap this kid like a twig, because Eiji mentioned that his /boyfriend/

was quirkless—and yet this kid has pro hero Red Riot wrapped around his finger like no one ever could before, though plenty of them tried. And Tetsu feels like the ground’s fallen out from under him, because he knows it’s fucking crazy, but his friend

is basically serving this beautiful boy up on a silver platter and all Tetsu wants to do is sink his teeth in.

“There are ground rules, obviously,” Eiji says, voice carefully casual.

“And I got a few things I wanna try that that lightning fucker couldn’t handle,” Bakugou says

“Oh my fucking god,” Tetsu says, pressing his fists to his eyes. Then, in a small voice, “Like what?”

“He’s been in a real doting mood lately,” Eiji says, pushing his empty glass across the island. Bakugou dutifully fills it a quarter of the way with amber liquid.

“Wants to be of service, you know?”

“I really don’t,” Tetsu says, dropping his hands.

“Could show you,” Bakugou says, drumming his hands against the wood top of the island. “If you’re fucking game, that is.”

Tetsu takes a long swig of his beer. And then another. And then another, until there isn’t any more. And then he takes a deep breath, and he thanks his lucky stars, and his mama up in heaven, and he asks her to protect him from the scary, gorgeous creature staring at them

with this unreadable heat in his eyes, lust or bloodlust or something inbetween. And then he steels himself, and looks up at his friend and says.

“Okay. Let’s play.”

Eijirou’s grin is both triumphant and relieved, and it’s so genuine that Tetsu relaxes some.

“Hell yeah man. Now let’s eat, I’m starving.”

Eiji throws his arm around Tetsu’s shoulders again and leads him over to the living room, to a big L-shaped leather couch with

a low coffee table. The lights are dim, just bright enough that Tetsu can see two elegant place settings on the coffee table. There’s a black embroidered zabuton to the side of the table, and Eiji takes a seat at the couch closest to it.

“C’mon, get comfy, man,” he says,

patting the space next to him.

“We’re eating here?” Tetsu says, dropping himself to the couch. There’s just about enough space for the both of them, they’re big guys after all.

“Easier on Katsuki’s knees,” Eijirou says, as though that explains anything. But

as though on cue, Bakugou walks in with four big dishes balanced in his arms. He sets them down easily and goes about arranging everything. Then he turns his eyes to Tetsu, and the

intensity is there, but the ferocity’s been exchanged for something different. Something that makes Tetsu sit up a little straighter, knock his shoulders wide.

“You’re a vegan, right?” Bakugou says, already scooping a generous portion of something into Tetsu’s dish.

“Most days, yeah,” Tetsu says, watching with some amusement while Bakugou fusses with plating what looks like it could have come from a restaurant. An expensive one. “Thanks.”

“No need to thank me,” Bakugou grumbles, but his cheeks flush pink, and it makes Tetsu want to scream.

Bakugou serves Eiji, pours them water, and then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, he kneels on the cushion at Eijirou’s feet.

And it’s....strange. A little bit hot, watching all that fire and brimstone cool down to a dangerous simmer as the kid averts his eyes. It’s distracting, the way Eijirou pets at his hair like a dog before turning to the meal spread out on the table.

But Eijirou’s voice

and Eijirou’s laugh and the natural way he lights up the room cuts the foreignness and the nerves, and soon enough Tetsu’s digging into his own food—and moaning at the taste of it, good god—and really, genuinely /enjoying/ himself. Bakugou gets up with silent grace to get them

another round of drinks, and Eijirou ignores him entirely, and so Tetsu does too. And it’s nice, after all, to catch up with him. To trade stories and bits of news, to hear about new projects and old friends. And his eyes drift over to Bakugou, seated at Eiji’s feet,

or clearing their plates, and it’s easier to look at him now that he’s meek and silent. He’s less intimidating like that—no less appealing, though, and more than once Tetsu finds himself staring just a little too long.

But by the time the talk turns from reminiscing to

ground rules and safe words, Tetsu’s loose and happy, excited even, all the earlier anxiety melted away by a satisfying meal and a few good drinks and Eiji’s laughter, brighter than ever. Maybe it’s not so bad, the two of them together. Maybe it’s healthy after all.

Maybe Tetsu’s making excuses, because he’s about to do some very bad things to a very young man, and the thought alone has him half-hard already.

But when Bakugou walks behind the couch and lays his hands on Tetsu’s shoulder, the heat of him is almost searing, and there

are no excuses left that could stop him leaning back, spreading his legs a little to get comfortable. There’s no logic or propriety that can keep him groaning low when the kid starts to massage his massive shoulders, just hard enough to ache in that delicious way that makes

him want to melt back into the couch, makes him want to purr like a big cat, and by the time Bakugou’s hands slide down to knead at his fat pecs, he’s loose enough to moan openly, eyes hazy and half-lidded, only dimly aware of Eijirou next to him, palming his cock

through his sweats.

“Good?” Bakugou says, his voice a little rough and quiet from disuse.

“Fucking amazing,” Tetsu says, tipping his head up to look directly at the kid and—wow. His face is flushed, his eyes are blown and glassy, and those pretty lips are parted

as he quietly pants, like /he’s/ the one bathing in ecstasy right now.

“Why don’t you tell him what you want,” Eijirou says, rolling the heel of his palm up and down his obvious bulge. “He loves that.”

Tetsu groans, because the thought of it is intoxicating. /Tell him what you want./ There’s just so much—he wants to wreck the kid, bend him over the couch and fuck him senseless, wants to bite the pretty curve of his trapezius, but it’s early yet. There’s so much more to do.

He clears his throat and looks into Bakugou’s hazy eyes, and in the best imitation of Eijirou’s sex voice he can muster, he says, “Why don’t you show me how you do him, sweetheart. You wanna suck Eiji’s dick?”

Bakugou’s fingers grip hard at Tetsu’s pecs like he can’t control himself, like the thought of it makes him weak, and isn’t that just the cutest thing.

“C’mon, right over here,” Tetsu says, leaning back to put some space between himself and Eijirou. He pats his thigh. “Come sit

with me, I wanna watch you.”

Bakugou crawls over the couch like a house cat, slinky and languid, and drops himself in Tetsu’s lap. Eijirou turns toward them, crooking his leg to make space.

“Listen to the man,” he says in /that voice,/ and Tetsu and Bakugou shiver

together, because both of them know that Riot’s here now, that gentle loving Eijirou is watching from the sidelines should they need him. And it’s been a long time, but not so long that Tetsu doesn’t know what’ll make Riot happy.

So he grips a fistful of Bakugou’s messy

blonde hair and shoves him forward, tipping him off his balance until he’s sprawled on the couch with one leg hooked over Tetsu’s thigh and the other tucked beneath him. Tetsu pushes his face right up into Riot’s groin and holds it there, giving a rough tug just because he can.

Riot cards his hands through Bakugou’s hair, slipping his fingers over Tetsu’s until they’re both palming his skull, keeping it pressed right up against the massive bulgs of Riot’s cock. Bakugou groans against the fabric, tongue lolling out, cheek squished at the juncture

of Riot’s thigh. He grips at Riot’s knees for balance, adjusting himself till he can rut against the couch. The position pushes his ass up toward Tetsu, and Tetsu grips it with his free hand, laughing at the broken moan it drags from Bakugou.

“Bro,” he says, breathless,

glancing up at Eijirou.

Eijirou’s eyes are dark and slitted, just the barest hint of color on his tanned cheeks to even indicate that this is effecting him at all. Bakugou mouths at his clothed cock, drooling, sloppy,

obviously ravenous for more by the soft little moans he makes.

“This is fucking insane,” Tetsu says, cupping Bakugou’s ass. “Where did you find him?”

“This is nothing,” Riot says fondly, gently pushing Tetsu’s hand harder against the back of Bakugou’s skull.

“This is kid stuff. You wanna really drive him crazy?”

“Fuck yeah,” Tetsu breathes, sliding his palm down the curve of Bakugou’s thigh.

“Can you hear me, baby?” Riot says, like he’s talking to a child.

Bakugou grunts, licking at the soaked front of Eijirou’s pants.

“I want you to go get the oil. And then I want you to do to my friend here what you did to me last night. Okay?”

Bakugou goes completely still, and for a second, Tetsu is almost worried. But then Bakugou pushes himself up and crawls into Eijirou’s lap and kisses him so

ferociously that it can only be gratitude. There’s an obvious tent at the front of his pants, and when he looks over his shoulder at Tetsu, his eyes are so blown and so glassy with want that he looks almost drunk, almost high on whatever it is that’s about to happen.

Tetsu grips at his own cock for relief, desperate for something, giddy with nervous excitement. Bakugou slips off Eijirou’s lap and stumbles down the hall, presumably to the bedroom. Tetsu drops his head back on the couch and groans.

He closes his eyes, hand still absently tracing the shape of his thick cock. Then there’s a hand in his hair, gentle, unmistakably big. Eiji.

“I missed you like this, man,” he says softly. “Forgot how good you look when you’re totally out of it.”

Tetsu glances over at Eijirou,

surprised to see all traces of Riot are gone. He’s all soft eyes and goofy, crooked smile, a big teddy bear with a heart to match the rest of him. Tetsu feels his chest tighten, and he’s suddenly touched with the intimacy—not of sex with his long-time friend, but with the idea of

sharing something that’s so obviously precious with him. Not just Bakugou’s body, but the weight of his lust-hazy eyes, the total transformation from a cocky brat to the stunning creature that stalked off to get some oil and god knows what else, and all for /him./

“You love that kid, huh?”

“I’d give him anything he asked for and more.”

“Did he ask for this?”

Eijirou smiles with all his sharp teeth, and there’s a touch of Riot in it. A little hot, a little mean. It’s answer enough.

Bakugou emerges from the hallway, shirtless, several bottles of oil cradled in his arms. He sets them down on the coffee table, then pushes it back away from the couch. Then, he drags the zabuton over and drops it right in front of Tetsu.

Tetsu holds his breath when Bakugou

slips his fingers into the waist band of his pants and slowly eases them down over his muscular thighs. He steps out of them, kicking them to the side. He’s got a pretty black jock strap on with a mesh cup and red embroidery on

the thick waistband that says—fuck, Tetsu groans, it says “daddy’s boy” in looping script.

Bakugou drops to his knees in front of Tetsu, fists balled and resting on either knee, head drooped, eyes down, but all of him vibrating with tension. His shoulders twitch,

the muscles of his jaw work, his corded forearms undulate as he squeezes his fists tighter. Maybe grounding himself. Maybe fighting off some urge.

“Tell him he can undress you,” Riot says, inching closer, snaking his arm around Tetsu’s shoulders to palm at one big pec.

“Tell him he can service you like a good little toy. Tell him he can ride that big dick if he’s good.”

“You can, fuck,” Tetsu hisses, palming his cock. “You can be good, can’t you, sweetheart? C’mon, show me.”

And Bakugou must like that name, or else it makes him antsy, because he hums, jaw locked like he’s trying to swallow down a moan. And when he reaches back for the bottles of oil, his hands are shaking, and his eyes are so foggy that Tetsu’s not even sure he can see.

But then he reaches down to cup Tetsu’s heel, and his hands are warm and steady and sure as he carefully peels off Tetsu’s socks, one foot then the other. He runs his hands from calf to knee, then lifts himself up and spreads those gorgeous hands over the wide span

of Tetsu’s thighs, just shy of the throbbing bulge of his dick. Bakugou’s hands are only a touch shaky, just a touch clumsy when he fumbles with the button of Tetsu’s slacks, but the strength is back again when he drags them off, boxers and all.

Tetsu can barely breathe, Bakugou was /so/ careful not to touch his dick, and something in Riot’s eyes makes Tetsu leave his own hands at his sides as Bakugou meticulously folds his slacks and sets them to the side. Then his hands are back again, dragging lightly over

Tetsu’s pecs, flicking each button open till his his chest and abs are on display. And Bakugou looks with his hazy eyes, blinks slowly and drags his eyes over the soft patch of silver hair in the middle, the bulk of his stomach and the thick muscle beneath. He’s

bigger than Riot in the middle and a little less hairy, and the coloring’s all wrong—but people used to confuse them for brothers just the same. They’re so alike, and Tetsu knows that does something for Bakugou, he can /sense/ it rolling off the kid in hot waves.

Eiji can sense it too, of course he can. So he strips his shirt off and throws it to the side, and shimmies out of his sweatpants, and then the two of them are side-by-side on the couch, thigh thighs touching, fat, leaking cocks arching up against their bellies.

and maybe it’s a touch theatrical but Tetsu throws his arm over Eiji’s shoulder, and Eiji does the same. And they’re like a mirror there, Tetsu pale with a mop of silver hair and Riot dark with that wild red mane—and he can just /imagine/ what they must look like.

He can see it reflected in Bakugou’s eyes, he can see it in the way the kid leans back on his heels and takes a shuddering breath in, hands twitching at his sides as he drinks in the sight of them.

And then he reaches down for one of the bottles of oil, and in the smart click of the cap, something shifts. Something changes, and Tetsu can feel it in his bones, like a magnet pulling at his guts. A giddy rush of hardening shimmers over his chest, and Bakugou licks his lips.

“Daddy?” he says, turning his hazy eyes to Riot.

“Guests first,” Riot says, a coy smile on his face.

Bakugou stands on shaky legs and steps up between Tetsu’s spread thighs. He lifts the bottle high above his head and tips it over, angling it to land right on his plush,

hairless chest. The oil is tinted pink and fills the room with the soft scent of citrus and ginger. It drips syrupy thick over the curve of Bakugou’s tit, down over one gold-pierced nipple, down over the dips of his abs and into the well of his belly button, dripping

down and down until it seeps into the waistband of his underwear. He keeps pouring till it soaks through and down, drips over to saturate the nest of neat blonde hair barely held back by the mesh of the jock strap, it gathers and pools over the swell of his pretty pink

cock, and then, finally, after twenty torturous seconds, it drips down onto Tetsu’s aching cock.

The oil is almost hot, warmed by the heat of Bakugou’s body. The thought alone makes Tetsu growl in the back of his throat, hands steel-hard and fisted at his sides.

And before he can lose his composure entirely, Bakugou’s lifting a leg to straddle his lap, tipping the oil up to drip over Tetsu’s pecs, to dribble down his abs and then up over the swell of his shoulders, and it’s colder straight out of the bottle.

But then Bakugou is handing the bottle to Eijirou, and his hot hands are at Tetsu’s neck, sliding slowly down to spread the oil. It’s gentle, meticulous, almost scientific in nature, and for the first time Tetsu gets a sense that there’s a lot more to this kid than

just a pretty face and a mean mouth. There’s a sharpness to him that makes Tetsu shiver, even hazy like this, even soft and giving like this, there’s something intimidating there, and he gives himself to it entirely, leaning back against Eijirou’s arm, spreading his thighs to

nudge Bakugou closer to his dick, red-purple now and visibly throbbing and slick with pre and drops of scented oil.

“C’mon, pretty, you gotta give me more than that,” he growls, gripping Bakugou’s hips.

Bakugou smiles, and it’s /filthy/, it’s somehow completely unhinged and sexy at the same time. He covers Tetsu’s hands with his own and pulls them back to drag along the curve of his ass, tugging till he’s leading Tetsu’s thick index finger along the cleft of his ass,

urging it down till it meets something round and blunt and solid, and it takes him a minute but when he understands what it is he’s feeling, Tetsu gasps.

“Did you get yourself ready for me, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” Bakugou rasps, leaning back against Tetsu’s hand.

“Bout an hour before you showed up here.”

Tetsu’s dick jumps.

“God, that’s so fucking hot. And what if I said no?” He tugs a little harder at the plug, then shoves it back in, drinking in the punched-out moan he gets for his trouble. “What if I didn’t want to play?”

Eijirou leans close enough to ghost his lips against Tetsu’s ear and says, in that low, dangerous voice,

“Do you seriously think I could bear to leave him unsatisfied?”

He slips his hand between them to grip at Tetsu’s cock, hard.

“Besides, man, in what universe

would you ever say no to him? You were gone on him in like the first five minutes, dude. You did the beer trick. For a twenty-year-old.”

Tetsu groans and bucks up into Riot’s grip.

“Look at him,” Riot says, pressing his forehead to Tetsu’s temple. “Look at me.

In what universe do you not want this?”

“Gotta tell me what you want,” Bakugou says, reaching back to ease the plug out himself. “I’ll fuckin do it. But you gotta tell me.”

“Be honest, bro,” Eiji says, flicking his tongue against Tetsu’s ear. It’s cheap move, cause he knows

what that does to Tetsu’s lust-addled brain.

Tetsu slides his hands up to cup Bakugou’s pecs. He flicks at the peachy peak of each nipple with his thumbs and sighs.

“I want that pretty mouth,” he says, eyes dropping to Bakugou’s plush, parted lips. “I wanna see you

fall apart, sweetheart. Then I wanna fuck you when you’re all wet and sloppy with Eiji’s cum. Wanna fuck you till you scream, pretty boy. How’s that?”

Bakugou huffs a laugh, and there’s that grin again, a little unhinged and so perfectly set on his face that even the crooked, toothy shape of it couldn’t rob him of his beauty.

“Sounds pretty fuckin good to me,” he says, voice gravelly and low and laced with want.

“You want my sloppy seconds, man?” Riot growls in Tetsu’s ear. “Wanna feel my cum around your cock?”

“Fuck yeah,” Tetsu groans, spreading his thighs as Bakugou slips down to kneel between his legs.

“I could just fuck you if you want it that bad,” Riot says,

and Tetsu whines at the thought. Not tonight—it’s been too long, he isn’t ready. But god if the thought doesn’t make his cock jump.

“No, you need me to open him up for you, don’t you?” Riot says, slipping off the couch to loom behind Bakugou. “Need me to make sure

he’s ready for that fat dick, hm?”

“I’d fucking break him,” Tetsu says, gripping the base of his dick. It’s true, he’s inch for inch with Eijirou on length (there was a night when they were teens when they found out just how deep their similarities ran), but he’s thicker

in the middle, thicker at the base. It takes a lot of prep on a good day for most people to take him, and Bakugou’s hips are so slim, almost bordering on petite.

“I can take you,” Bakugou says, and with all that bluster and bravado it’s almost believable. But his eyes are

wide and a little shaky as he stares at Tetsu’s cock, heavy and wet at the tip and still shiny with citrus spiced oil.

“Me first, baby boy,” Riot says, stepping up behind him, reaching down to push at Bakugou’s soft, puffy hole with two thick fingers.

Bakugou braces himself on Tetsu’s spread thighs, panting out hot little puffs of air right on the sensitive head of his cock as Riot spears him open. With his free hand, he reaches back for another of the oil bottles and drips an obscene amount over the curve of Bakugou’s

ass, over his own fingers as they work in and out.

“C’mon, pretty boy, open up,” Tetsu says, gripping the base of his cock and driving it up against Bakugou’s lips.

Bakugou opens his mouth, drops his tongue out just far enough to kiss his lower lip, and waits.

He looks up at Tetsu through his lashes, and it hits Tetsu all at once how crazy this is. How small the kid looks between Tetsu’s thighs, with Riot looming behind him. How vulnerable he is, something needy in his eyes that Tetsu doesn’t even want to know about, except

there’s no escaping it, cause the kid draws his eyes like a magnet. Like a black hole. God, he’s so pretty, drool sliding down his chin, wincing in pleasure as Riot fucks him with two, now three thick fingers, and Tetsu feels something in him snap when he pushes the head of his

dick past Bakugou’s lips. He’s so hot inside, so soft and wet and it’s been a little while since anyone’s done this for him, and it’s definitely been a while since he’s seen that look in Eiji’s eyes, that dark hungry thing that always used to drive him crazy.

And when Eiji slides home, when he bottoms out with his hips flush to Bakugou’s tight ass, Tetsu can /feel/ it from the other end, he can feel it in the sudden jerk of Bakugou’s body, he can feel it in the moan that buzzes up his cock, up his spine till it’s like he’s

just as full, just as overwhelmed as the beautiful boy near suspended between them.

Tetsu catches Eiji’s eyes, and there’s a softness there, a fondness—just a flash, and then it’s gone, replaced by that dark hunger again.

“Tight, baby,” Riot hisses, drawing out slow.

Bakugou groans around Tetsu’s dick, and the next wave of sound has hardening running over Tetsu’s chest like goosebumps. Bakugou moans /again,/ a low, broken, throaty sound, and reaches up with a shaking hand to palm Tetsu’s silvery, steel-hard abs.

“You like that, sweetheart?”

Tetsu drags his fingers through Bakugou’s sweat-damp hair, urging him down a little farther. Eijirou rocks his hips, slow gentle motion to ease Bakugou forward till he’s swallowing more than half of Tetsu’s thick cock.

“He’s a quirk enthusiast,” Eijirou says fondly, smoothing a

big hand up the small of Bakugou’s back. “Why don’t you show him that other trick you do.”

Tetsu grits his teeth at the tight squeeze of Bakugou’s throat around the head of his dick. Bakugou’s breathing hard through his nose, tears sliding down his pretty, pinched face.

“No way, dude,” Tetsu says, smoothing the sweaty hair off Bakugou’s forehead. “He’ll choke.”

Eijirou laughs, pulls back just a little, and slams back in. It rocks Bakugou’s body forward till he’s gagging and sucking in quick, panicked breaths, eyes squeezed shut, throat

twitching around the extra intrusion. But then he moans, and it ends in a broken sob, and when he opens his bleary eyes to look up at Tetsu, there’s nothing but greed, nothing but endless need in his eyes.

“Bro, he /wants/ to choke,” Eijirou says, still gently running his hand

up and down Bakugou’s side, soothing him as he works to even out his breathing again.

“That right, sweetheart?” Tetsu says, gently pushing Bakugou’s bangs out of his face again. “Can you tap my leg when you hit your limit, pretty?”

Bakugou stares up, and Tetsu almost

loses it right there, because his face is pink and streaked with tears, damp with sweat at the temples and on his upper lip, whole mouth stretched obscenely around the fattest part of Tetsu’s dick. There’s drool dripping down his chin, and he should look absolutely ruined,

debauched and destroyed already, full up with Eijirou’s thick cock and nearly choking on Tetsu’s—and yet, somehow, there’s an impatient curl to his lip. There’s a rising annoyance in his eyes, and it’s obvious he’s warring with it, trying to be good, trying to be /of service./

But it lights something in Tetsu just the same, something giddy in his chest that makes /him/ want to oblige, makes him want to do things he wouldn’t ordinarily do, and he gets it now. When Eiji said /I’d give him anything and more,/ he gets it now. Tetsu does’t even know

the kid, he’s barely known him three whole hours and he’s already crossed about three different lines he thought he’d never cross again.

So when Bakugou taps his thigh as though to say /I can do anything, just get on with it,/ Tetsu let’s his last bit of reservation fall away.

He grips the back of Bakugou’s head, and once again Eiji lays a hand on top of his, both of them keeping Bakugou there, pinned between them. Eiji grinds his cock deep as he can and holds it there with a hand at Bakugou’s waist. They catch each other’s eyes above the blonde’s head

and nod, and then Tetsu takes a deep breath. He’s a master of his quirk, he has to be. He trained with Eiji for the better part of a decade, both of them pushing the limits of what they could do. But there was always just one thing that Tetsu could do better, that

Eiji couldn’t hardly do at all, and that was send his hardening up the length of his fat, erect cock.

They both bear down when they feel Bakugou start to struggle, when they feel his heartbeat pick up through his hot, soft insides. They trap him there, hold him there, and when Eijirou starts to harden his arms, clawed fingers scratching at the skin of Bakugou’s hip, Tetsu does

the same, sending gorgeous shiny waves of polished steel over his body, both of them curling over Bakugou like gargoyles, faces grimaced in ecstasy as the poor pretty quirkless Bakugou thrashes between them.

It’s the feeling of Eijirou’s rocky claws at the back of his own steel-hard hand that grounds Tetsu, and he’s thankful he can do this, thankful he can harden up his cock, because if he couldn’t, he surely would have cum right down Bakugou’s twitching throat. The sight of him

thrashing and choking and drooling, eyes rolling back—it’s too much, it’s so hot and his face is so red that Tetsu almost drops it, almost pulls back to let the kid breathe, but then Eiji grips his hand and pushes, keeping Bakugou’s head there, keeping him pressed almost all the

way down. And there’s a warning in Eiji’s eyes, a command that freezes Tetsu solid, fully hardened. And it only takes a little thrust, an expert angle of Eiji’s hips to make Bakugou /scream/ around Tetsu’s hardened cock, seizing up for one beautiful moment as he cums,

untouched, in thick drips on the cushion on the floor.

Tetsu feels a weak tap at his leg, and he drops his hardening, pulls his hand from under Eiji’s and eases Bakugou off his still-hard cock. Bakugou’s breath comes heavy and ragged, and his head lolls like he might pass out, but Eiji holds him up by the hair.

“I think my baby liked that,” he says, pulling Bakugou back against his chest. “Now lemme fuck you open so you can give my friend here what you promised, yeah?”

Bakugou weakly wipes at the drool on his chin and croaks out a broken affirmation, and it’s not even words,

his voice is already so wrecked, so rough from the stretch of Tetsu’s hardened cock.

“Quick this time,” Eijirou says, curling an arm around Bakugou’s chest. “I wanna see you ride him.”

And then he pistons his hips so fast and so hard that Tetsu can /see/ Bakugou’s body

shake with the force of it, again and again and again till each thrust is pushing out raspy, fucked-out moans from the blonde’s slack lips, till his pretty, spent cock is chubbing up again, slapping against his thigh with each of Riot’s rough thrusts.

And Tetsu has to harden his dick again, because the sight of Eiji’s animalistic snarl, all those sharp teeth gleaming as he uses Bakugou like a big, beautiful toy, it’s got him on the edge. Just the sight of them together has him on the edge, the curve of Bakugou’s

neck as he throws his head back on Eijirou’s shoulder, the way he clings to Eijirou’s arms like a lifeline, the way he arches his back to meet each brutal thrust like he wants to help, god he wants to throw his everything back at the man fucking him, half hardened,

unbreakable rippling over his face, making a monster of his face, and Tetsu thanks his lucky stars again because he’s gonna be thinking about this for a very long time. He can /see/ the moment Eijirou tips over, something flashing in his eyes—and he growls, nearly /roars/ as he

empties himself into Bakugou’s body, hardened hands dragging streaks across his pink-flushed skin.

Eiji pulls out with a groan and nearly tosses Bakugou against Tetsu’s chest like a limp little doll.

“He’s all yours, bro,” Eiji says, and his smile is that deceptively sweet one, the same one he wears out in world for civilians to see. /All yours, bro,/ like he says at the gym

when he’s done with the weight bench, and fuck if /that/ doesn’t do something for Tetsu. /All yours,/ like he’s lending a piece of equipment, a very expensive, very beautiful, very special toy, and this might be the only chance he ever gets, so Tetsu

hooks his arms under Bakugou’s and pulls the kid up into his lap like he’s not a hundred and eighty pounds of lean muscle. Maybe he manhandles the kid a little more than he needs to, because Eijirou’s watching them, and he always did appreciate feats of strength.

“Still with it, sweetheart?” Tetsu says as he pulls Bakugou’s thighs up around his own, pressing their cocks together—his still purple-red and angry, Bakugou’s pink and plump and getting harder by the second.

“Just fucking do it,” Bakugou grumbles, eyes still hazy,

face still flushed almost red. He tries to brace himself against Tetsu’s chest, but his hands slip on the oil, and Tetsu grips him by the throat to steady him.

“You need me to do it for you?” Tetsu says, lifting till Bakugou raises up on his knees, hovering over Tetsu’s dick.

Eijirou’s cum is dripping down his thighs, dribbling out of his gaping hole, and Tetsu groans when he feels it on the head of his dick.

“I can do it,” Bakugou says, reaching back weakly to guide the tip of Tetsu’s dick right up against his twitching hole.

“He’s a fighter, isn’t he,” Tetsu says, lowering the hand that’s wrapped around Bakugou’s throat, dropping the boy down onto his dick.

“You have no idea,” Eijirou says, dropping himself down on the couch next to them. He drops his head on Tetsu’s shoulder and sighs happily, eyes

trained on slow, sloppy press of Tetsu’s dick into Bakugou’s abused hole.

“Don’t f-fuckin,” Bakugou hisses, “talk about me like I’m not right here.”

“Why not?” Eijirou says in a dangerously neutral tone. “What can you do to stop us, hm?”

Tetsu grips Bakugou’s thigh and forces him down a little farther, still keeping a strong grip on the kid’s flexing throat.

“I could do anything I want right now,” Tetsu says, and he can feel his cock throb at the thought, because it’s true. “You’re quirkless, kid, you

really think you could stop me?”

“We could use you till you’re too fucked up to string three words together,” Eijirou says, running his hardened knuckles up Bakugou’s thigh. “You don’t stand a chance against me, but the two of us?”

“We could snap you in half,” Tetsu says,

tightening the hand around Bakugou’s throat.

“Doesn’t matter what you want,” Eijirou says, dragging the clawed tip of his hardened finger up the side of Bakugou’s straining erection.

“This isn’t about you,” Tetsu says, forcing Bakugou down the last searing inch, all of him

finally, finally plugging up that loose, wet hole.

“You’re here for our pleasure, baby boy,” Eijirou says. “You can scream your pretty head off.”

“But we’ll take what we want either way,” Tetsu finishes for him.

Bakugou’s teeth are grit and bared in a grimace, his eyes pinched shut, streaks of frustrated tears dripping down his contorted face. He’s shaking all over, trembling, hands weakly pulling at Tetsu’s arm. His breath is ragged and wracked with sobs, and Tetsu almost feels

bad. But then Eiji leans in and whispers “color, baby?” and Bakugou’s eyes fly open, panic and fury all flashing on his face when he grits out “green, green, green, c’mon, fuckin /do/ it already I’m—”

Tetsu loops an arm around Bakugou’s back and flips them roughly, slamming

Bakugou back against the couch.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I got you,” he says, rolling his hips to grind up on Bakugou’s sweet spot.

Eijirou’s cum squelches out around Tetsu’s thick cock when he draws his hips back, and the /sound/ it makes when he slams back in is enough to make both of them groan. He keeps a steady grip on Bakugou’s throat, watching to make sure the kid can still breathe—for now—while he

fucks him hard and fast just like Eiji did.

“You take it like a champ, sweetheart,” he grits, waves of hardening flowing over his ass and thighs as he fights off his own orgasm. He knows Bakugou can feel it inside, the way he goes from hard to hardened, unyielding and cool to

the touch and polished-silver smooth. But then he’s flesh again, hot again and throbbing, though not as hot as Bakugou’s insides, sucking him in like quicksand, twitching and milking him, greedy for another load of cum.

“Bet if we fucked him long enough, he could take the both of us,” Eijirou says, lazily palming his cock.

“You want that sweetheart?” Tetsu says, thrusting slow and deliberate and /hard,/ hard enough that Bakugou’s teeth clatter every time. “Want us to break you?”

“Could fuck you so loose you’ll never be satisfied by just one cock again,” Eijirou says, teasing a hand under Bakugou’s thigh, ghosting his fingers over the rim of his asshole, stretched wide around Tetsu’s fat dick.

“Oh fuck,” Bakugou grits, eyes squeezing shut. Tetsu chokes

him just a little harder—not quite cutting off his air, just his voice, just enough to show him who’s in charge.

“I think he’d like that,” Tetsu says, fucking harder, a little faster, watching the pink of Bakugou’s cheeks morph red.

“I think you oughta make him cum a few

more times,” Eijirou says. “Get him real loose and stupid first.”

“I could go forever,” Tetsu says, hardening his cock for emphasis. “Long enough to ruin you, sweetheart, that’s for sure.”

Bakugou sobs, throat twitching against Tetsu’s palm.

“Choke him good, man,” Eiji rasps. “I can tell he’s close again.”

Tetsu squeezes just a little harder, just enough that Bakugou’s eyes go slack and unfocused and start to roll up into his head. And then he sends a rush of hardening down his arm, till the hand at that fluttering

throat is a steel cage pinning Bakugou’s thrashing body to the couch like a butterfly.

“C’mon, sweetheart, cum for me,” Tetsu growls, pumping his hips. “Wanna feel you fall apart.”

Bakugou slaps at Tetsu’s arm, weak and uncoordinated, but then his back bows in a gorgeous arc,

pushing out that pretty chest, splotchy and pink, and his legs tremble and seize around Tetsu’s waist, and he’s cumming for the second time that night, weak spurts of thin cum dripping from his pretty pink cock as the light in his eyes dims entirely.

Tetsu softens just enough to let him breathe, but not to move, not to writhe away while Tetsu uses the tight spasm of Bakugou’s body to chase his own release. He cums with an animal groan, pumping thick and hot into Bakugou’s ruined asshole, the viscous mix of his

and Eiji’s cum pushed out around the base of his cock as he rocks them through the aftershocks.

He knows he’d crush the kid if he dropped, so Tetsu pulls out with a grunt and drops to his knees on the floor. He lays his head on Bakugou’s thigh, and both of them pant for a long, pregnant moment, ears still ringing, both of them buzzing and dizzy and hot.

“God you took him so good, baby,” Eijirou says, looping his arm around Bakugou’s shoulders. He kisses Bakugou’s cheek, then his temple, kisses the crown of his head. “Such a good boy.”

Tetsu looks up at the both of them, Bakugou red-faced and so achingly beautiful with

his pretty lips slack and his cheeks shiny with tears, and the /fire/ is back in his eyes, the sharpness that put Tetsu on edge from the start.

“How’d I do?” Tetsu says, still a little bit breathless.

“Thought you, fuck,” Bakugou says, clearing his throat, and his voice is so ruined that Tetsu feels a pride and a drop of remorse bloom in his chest. “Thought you said you could go all night.”

“What did we say about pushing ourselves, baby?” Eijirou murmurs in Bakugou’s ear.

“Patience, preparation, persistence,” Bakugou mumbles.

“What was that first one again?” Eijirou says, pulling Bakugou close.

“Oh fuck off,” Bakugou says, curling into Eijirou’s chest like a lazy cat. “Fine, we’ll take a break. Twenty minutes long enough for you, Real Steel?”

Tetsu groans. The thought of doing that again—god, it sends an icy chill down his spine. His head is already swimming, filled with the sight and the smell and the /feel/ of his best friend’s hot little toy, and he knows, he just /knows/ that he’ll get so strung out

on the kid that he’ll cross another line. One of their lines, the one that says no kissing, the one that says no sleepovers, the one that says no fucking the kid one-on-one when Eijirou’s gone. He’s had a taste, a real good taste, and he’s already thirsty for more.

“I can’t,” he mumbles. “It’s just—“

“The fuck do you mean you can’t?” Bakugou spits, and Eijirou rumbles a displeased sound.

“Don’t push him,” Eijirou says, petting through Bakugou’s sweat-matted hair. “C’mon, relax for a minute. Remember what I said about letting it flow?”

Bakugou pouts. He /pouts/. And it looks good on him, because why wouldn’t it, but it underlines just how young he is. Just how inexperienced, just how curious, just how greedy for all the things he can think up in that twisted little mind of his.

Tetsu’s spent cock /throbs./

“I’m afraid if I do him again, I’ll get hooked,” he says, lifting his guilty eyes to Eijirou.

“He’s kind of a trip, isn’t he?” Eijirou says, pressing another soft kiss to the crown of Bakugou’s head. “Easy fix. I know it’s hard to believe but he /loves/ being

ignored. I can just chain him to the headboard and force him to watch us have fun without him. Been a good minute since I got to be main course. And nobody tops me but you, you know that, man.”

Bakugou shivers, but Tetsu can see that manic grin of his pressed between

Eiji’s fat pecs.

“Twenty minutes,” Tetsu says, standing to stretch his stiff legs. “And a shower. And then you’re on.”

“Be my guest,” Eijirou says, nodding toward the hall. “We’ll join you in a minute.”

Part 1 of the series: https://twitter.com/stereonightss/status/1259617817550360577

Part 2! https://twitter.com/stereonightss/status/1296861600100622338