MHA smut

make the call (to give it to you all)

They could give that an encore.

Or.

There's been something else that Katsuki's been thinking... An observation, let's say.

"You sure you're happy with silicone?" Both his hands are cupped around Izuku's ass, now, kneading, spreading him apart over his boxers, pushing up his hips until they're level with Katsuki's face, then further still until Izuku is curled over on himself.

Bendy little shit. Fucking hot.

Katsuki nips the back of a thigh, and that's the only warning he gives before wetly mouthing his hole through the thin cotton.

The moan Izuku gives is a one of surprise and a marrow-deep ache. His hands fly between his legs, into Katsuki's hair. "I already told you that I want you, I don't know what you want me to say!"

"Well, it just sounded like you wanted me and Dynamight," Katsuki drawls. "Sorry darling, but I ain't sharin' again. Not even with myself." He peels Izuku's underwear off his thick, sweaty thighs, resting his legs over his shoulders as he does, before pushing him back into a hard C. "Can you put your ankles behind your head, baby?"

Katsuki knows he can. He's seen Izuku do yoga, twisting himself up like a balloon animal. That shit makes Katsuki hard as fuck.

Izuku looks confused at the request, but with his arms already between his legs, he uses his elbows to push them back until he's fully folded flat over himself. "You mean like this?"

"Yeah, just like that." Katsuki licks his lips. "Fuck."

He sees the moment it clicks for Izuku. Fucker's smart and not blind, which he'd have to be not to see the way the position brings his own cock to his chin.

Izuku breathes out a quiet, Oh. Then, a few beats later, Goodness.

"The only person I share you with is you," Katsuki advises, spinning him around by the hips so that he's facing outwards on the couch. All of Izuku is origami'd into a neat little package, scars and grafted skin and freckles—all of it in one compact frame for Katsuki to admire. In his position, his hips are raised so high off the couch they come up to just below Katsuki's waist when he stands up.

Izuku's neck is bent kind of weird against the cushions, and Katsuki intends to fuck him, not fuck him up, so he asks, "You okay like this? Don't wanna dislocate your neck."

Izuku has the nerve to laugh. It's a soft giggle and fucking cute, which is the only reason Katsuki forgives it. "I'll be okay, Kacchan. How long have you been thinking about this?"

Too long.

"That's for me to know and for you to never find out," Katsuki scoffs, reaching for the bottle of lube on the side table. He wets his fingers with a few pumps, and pauses before he presses them against his rim. Izuku's puckered hole clenches like it's shy or something. Lies, all lies. "You gonna suck yourself or what?"

"Oh," Izuku breathes again, staring down at his hard dick. It's round and stout like him, a good mouthful.

Katsuki pauses. "Unless...you don't want to?"

Izuku giggles again, this time a little embarrassed. "I mean. It's not like I've never done it before."

Of course he has. "You slut," Katsuki spits, so turned on he can feel his heart pulsing in his dick. He watches Izuku's cheek flush, taking his words as the compliment they are  "When?"

"Just once, in the dorms. Wanted you so bad, I just wanted to pretend. But it felt weird and kind of sad, so I just finished off with my hand."

"You don't feel that way about it now, do you," Katsuki presses.