AMP (IzuJirou)

Happy Birthday, Kyouka

And, it had been, uh...

How could she put it?

Oh, right. Fucking awesome.

She gently took his wrist, giving it the smallest pull downward, allowing him to reach around to her backside. Being given the green light, Izuku used his other hand to hook a finger around the collar of Kyouka's shirt, pull it down to expose the valley of her breasts, and continue his trail of kisses down.

A moan escaped the back of her throat, and Kyouka quickly covered her own mouth, praying to every god from every religion that her mom didn't hear that.

Okay, maybe it was a little risky.

Her jacks reached down, reaching down Izuku's back until they poked his butt. He raised his gaze up, a brow raised, "You've been very insistent on touching there lately."

"You're insistent on touching mine."

"I-...Yeah, true."

"But, this time I was trying to get your attention. As much as I want to keep getting frisky, my parents will only tolerate playing ignorant to what they probably think we're doing for so long."

"Okay. But, later?"

"Absolutely," Kyouka pressed her jacks under Izuku's chin, guiding him back to her lips. "I'd say my birthday is a good reason to treat myself."

"If by treating yourself, you mean do what we do most days, then yes, I'd say it's a good reason. But, I guess if you're looking for a little more..." Izuku hopped up from the bed, quickly picking up Kyouka bridal-style and headed for the door.

"Hey!" Kyouka laughed in faux protest. "What if I hadn't been wearing shorts?"

"It would be very embarrassing for us both, but I wouldn't exactly complain."

Kyouka hid her face into his shoulder, her face beet red, "It took all of your willpower to get that out without stuttering and blushing."

"Yep, but it was worth it."

Izuku carried her out of her room and down the hallway until they reached the upper landing. From the living room, Mika looked up from the couch at the sound of footsteps, smiling at her daughter being carried down the stairs.

"So, turning sixteen means you don't need to use your feet anymore, huh?"

"Not my choice!" Kyouka quickly defended herself.

"If he's whipped enough to the point where he does this without needing to be asked, then you're at least partially responsible."

Izuku reached the bottom of the stairs, moving to the right, into the dining area and setting Kyouka down at the table. She turned around in her chair, looking at her mother back in the living room, "Then you're partially responsible, because I got it from you."

"You know it," Mika got up from the couch, moving into the dining room and kissing Kyouka's temple, hugging her tightly. "Happy Birthday, Kyouka. You're the best song I've ever made."

"Excuse me," Kyoutoku interrupted, walking through the kitchen door with a tray of food in hand. "But I was a part of that song's creation, too."

"Ugh! Gross! No!" Kyouka gagged out. "The song analogy is officially ruined for me. And, Izuku is right here!"

Izuku took his seat next to Kyouka, shaking his head, "I've already blocked it out entirely."

"Anyway," Kyoutoku moved on, setting down a tray containing a plate of omurice and a bowl of porridge in front of Kyouka. "I present breakfast, cooked by yours truly, for his favorite child."