His Dreamless Nights | K. Bakugou

Of Love and Lust | Anonymous

Summary:

Everything about this man drives Izuku insane.

The crisp white shirt, unbuttoned and hanging off broad shoulders, the smartly pressed slacks that are now slightly wet with Izuku's ever-seeping slick. Mouth parted, canines glinting and those sharp red eyes watching him so intensely, even when they're half-lidded.

Katsuki looks like sex incarnate.

Or,

Izuku has a favourite client he's half in-love with

"Oh fuck, baby. Yeah, just like that."

Rough hands slide over Izuku's skin, leaving a trail of scorching heat in their wake that has him arching his back and grinding down harder.

It's Friday night. Nights reserved for the ultra wealthy patrons who want private shows and sometimes a little something extra from their favourite dancers.

Izuku is their establishment's most popular draw– their highest earner. So of course, his Friday nights are always booked. Usually by rich businessman who are either half in love with him or those who are simply bored and looking for a fun time. This particular patron though...

He's special.

He's sweet on Izuku and Izuku is in love with him.

Not that he knows.

"You look so fucking pretty, sweetheart. Did you get all dressed up for me?"

Izuku gasps at the deep voice that rumbles in his ear. His eyes flutter as he looks over his shoulder and smiles coyly at the man slouched indulgently in the chair.

"Yes, Kacchan." He breathes. "I know how much you like it when I dress up. Choose this specially for you. Do you like it?"

He swivels his hips, pressing his heated core more persistently against the clothed bulge under him and delights when it garners a loud, unashamed moan from the man.

Bakugou Katsuki, being the busy man he is, doesn't show up to their respectable establishment every week– the trials and tribulations of being a world famous globetrotter, he supposes. But it's always a treat when he does show up. For both Izuku's wallet and his poor, galloping heart. So Izuku watches carefully, committing each sinful moment to memory as he bears down on Katsuki's confined cock. He grinds lazily as he takes in the older man– every sound, every movement, every expression. Everything about him drives Izuku insane.

The crisp white shirt, unbuttoned and hanging off broad shoulders, the smartly pressed slacks that are now slightly wet with Izuku's ever-seeping slick. Mouth parted, canines glinting and those sharp red eyes watching him so intensely, even when they're half-lidded.

Katsuki looks like sex incarnate.

The hands on Izuku's hips glide down, running over the rounded flesh of Izuku's ass, squeezing and groping generously at the soft flesh before a sneaky thumb tucks itself under the lace of his black panties. It caresses the skin, tracing the delicate edge then slipping under.

"Uh-uh! Bad, Kacchan." Izuku laughs. He catches the roving hands with his own, stopping them before they can explore any further. Slowly, he drags them up his body again, keeping them still at the dip of his waist. "Keep your hands up here, please. Let me take care of you. Working so hard all week, you poor thing. Just sit back and relax, mm-kay?"

Kacchan grunts out a frustrated huff of breath and his grip briefly tightens where his large hands have almost completely encircled Izuku's tiny waist. He doesn't move them though and Izuku smiles in satisfaction.