Archive of Our Own

Katsuki’s laughing as Eijirou drops.

Because it’s funny. Hell, the image must be goddamn hilarious as the welcome mat curls rough against Eijirou’s knees. Katsuki’s laugh is beer warmed. Half swallowed into a gasp. It’s nothing but teeth and breath in the dark. And it catches beautifully in his throat as his back hits the door with a thud and Eijirou’s mouth is already open against the seam of his jeans.

He’d take these damn things off with his teeth if he could.

Fuck, he’s drunk enough to try.

Teeth against metal. chilled and coppery. The taste of iron as he uselessly tongues at the button.

“Okay, fuckin’ okay,” Katsuki’s still laughing, a free hand at the back of  his hairsprayed head. He has sweat through the gel cast and Katsuki presses hard enough to let deft fingers meet the back of his skull. “Jesus, baby, you’re—” he chokes on the rest of it. Groans it through grit teeth. Eijirou can feel carmine glued to the look of his mouth as he noses under the waistband and inhales.

“Please,” Eijirou says. Because saying okay again like a mantra seemed out of the picture. The amount of times it’s been mumbled over broken breaths in the Uber as hands skated over muscular thighs, grinning wide against his neck while Katsuki tried and failed to pretend he wasn’t about to start rutting into his palm like a dog in heat. “Please Kitty.”

“Kitty?”

“Katsuki,” They’re drunk. Or at least…Eijirou is. A little sloppy but mostly warm. Touched by a mix of liquor and beer. Just something hard enough to keep the chill of the night at bay. “Tsuki. Kitty…Kat.”

He’s only half sure he makes sense.

They’d been at the bar for hours. Longer than Katsuki would usually muscle through, giving Eijirou the freedom of another three shots through mumbles of “Really! Really, guys. Guys, we should go. We should go.” Repetition in the house of malt beers and over pours. The whole while Katsuki kept mouthing at the lip of his beer bottle and leaning in close to mutter shit like you’re getting sloppy, baby. And the more damning you keep looking at me like that and I’m gonna make a scene right fuckin’ here.

So…there were a mix of wants. Of needs. Caught tight in his chest. Caught between lungs and breath. Between his heart and its stammer. Between his incisors as he successfully tugs the zipper down. 

“Hah!” Eijirou laughs his victory, as he brings his hands up to steady himself on Katsuki’s hips. He can feel himself swaying heavy on his knees, but he manages to tug briefs and jeans down in on practiced motion. Katsuki’s cock slaps hard against his cheek, already leaking. The sweet stick of precum painting the apex of his cheekbone. “I’ve missed you. Missed this. Fuckin’ needed you…needed you all night. Wanted you. Needed you.”

He’s not making sense. “Fuckin’ greedy is what you are,” Katsuki says through the mess of words Eijirou was still spewing. Katsuki’s voice already has that low, fucked-out scrape to it like his lungs are beginning to catch up. 

“Shoulda—shoulda gotten me home faster,” Eijirou tugs down a little harder. He wants Katsuki completely out of his clothes. Needs him bare beneath him. But he only manages to get the waistband of his black briefs—God, the fronts of them are wet, Poor baby must’ve been leaking the whole ride home—to catch on the underside of Katsuki’s balls. 

Eijirou’s almost certain he makes a long Ahhhhohhh sound as he opens his mouth wide and takes Katsuki eagerly down to the hilt. Katsuki hisses a breath that almost sounds like pain and fists his hand tighter in Eijirou’s hair, yanking hard enough to tilt his head back to say “Stop. You’ll choke,” even though he barely means it. Even though that's what a spit-slicked and liquor warmed Eijirou wants. Even though his hips are already twitching forward at the thought of it. He wants it messy. Wants it filthy. Wants it rough.

He lets himself be pulled back, just slightly as a stumbling hand reaches up and takes the hold of the base since he’ll choke or whatever. His tongue is clumsy at first. Too eager. Too much alcohol still swimming in his blood as he lets himself be adjusted. A fist and mouthful of a cock pressing down on his tongue. He sucks it in deep. Lets his jaw stretch wide and lets the tip just barely breach the back of his soft palate before he pulls off with a loud wet pop to catch his breath.

Katsuki groans, loud, “God,” he says, voice already wrecked. “You tryin’ to suck my dick like a fucking porn star? You’re such a slut for it.”

Eijirou’s gasp leaves him dizzy. Lips red and wet and trembling as he breathes hard through his mouth. A thick strand of saliva connects them, dangling between his bottom lip and the flushed head of Katsuki’s cock. Obscene and perfect and catching the low light like a string of pearls.

He stays there for a second. Just looking.

Because fuck, Katsuki’s cock always looks so pretty while he holds him in a tight fist.

Thick and heavy, still shining from Eijirou’s mouth. The head is flushed a deep mauve, so hard it’s starting to tint more purple than pink. His foreskin’s pulled taut, the veins up the side gone fat. Blood thick and throbbing. Especially that particular one curling under the shaft in a path Eijirou’s tongue longs to trace. And right at the base of him is prickly ash blonde hair, darker than that of Katsuki’s head. Already damp. He smells like sweat and spit and skin and a trace of musk that hits somewhere low in his gut and twists.

Katsuki’s still panting, still braced against the door with one hand splayed flat and the other tight in Eijirou’s hair. “You’re staring.”

Eijirou licks his lips. “Okay.”

It’s not the right answer, but it’s all he can manage. An okay. An affirmative. An I don’t wanna stop. Please don’t make me stop. 

It earns him a crooked smirk and a throaty laugh, “You can do better than stare, baby boy.”

Eijirou leans forward slowly, mouth open, tongue dragging up from the base like he means it. Like he’s licking into something decadent, divine, forbidden. The blunt curve of the head bumps his lips and he sucks it in like a piece of something sweet, cheeks hollowing out at the ready.

Katsuki thrusts cruel.

It’s hard enough to make Eijirou’s throat spasm and his eyes blink wide. The sound he makes is wet and raw, a strangled sort of gck that echoes off the apartment walls like the aftermath of a slap.

“That’s it,” Katsuki groans. “That’s it baby,  C’mon. Gag on it for me.”

He chokes around it on the next thrust. And the next. And the next. Throat squeezing as he finally drops his hand like it’s trying to make sense of the deep intrusion. He relaxes into it in the way he’s learned to. Jaw open. Tongue flat. Letting his body get used to the rhythm. It still makes his whole face flush. Still makes his scalp tingle and his lashes go damp. Spit spills from the corners of his mouth, leaking past his chin, dripping onto his shirt and the floor.

He’s never felt more beautiful. More needed.

The weight of Katsuki’s cock is everywhere. Against his tongue, pressed deep in his throat, nudging past the place he thought was the limit and making it worse. Better. His nose brushes Katsuki’s pelvis on every push in, and the skin there is just as warm, just as sweat-slicked. The smell of him is dizzying. Soap and whisky and salt and something damning.

Above him, Katsuki’s breath is wrecked. “Look at you. Fuckin’ mess. My filthy little cock slut, huh?”

Eijirou moans his reply, cock straining hard in his jeans. Untouched and leaking. The sound vibrates around Katsuki’s cock and he curses under his breath, thighs tensing.

He pulls off Eijirou again, leaving him like a supplicant dog. Reared back on his knees, tongue out and panting, eyes wide cast up at his master. He blinks up at Katski like he’s underwater.

“Catch your breath,” Katsuki rasps. “Pretty sure you stopped breathing. Your eyes were going glassy.”

Eijirou shudders at the thought of it. “Let’em.” He managed although his voice doesn’t sound like his own anymore.

“Fuck me,” Katsuki growls, hand firm on the back of Eijirou’s head. “C’mon then, be good and take it all again.”

He opens his mouth wide, tongue heavy and slick, letting Katsuki slide in inch by inch until the head hits the back of his throat and keeps going. 

There’s a flash of heat, reflex and panic, his throat spasming around the intrusion. But he doesn’t pull back. Barely flinches. Just breathes through his nose the best he can and lets it happen.

Katsuki gains a rhythm this time.

Just a roll of his hips, deep and slow and steady, like he’s measuring how far he can push before Eijirou starts to break. Like he’s lining up the blueprint of his mouth and redrawing it from the inside out.

Eijirou swallows around him, reflex again, and Katsuki shudders. “Shit. That tongue—fuck, you were made for this, Eij.”

It’s messy now. Filthy. Slick. Loud and relentless.

Katsuki rocks into him again, harder this time. A low obscene sound bubbles out of Eijirou’s throat as his nose presses into the soft skin, and for a short blissful second, he can’t breathe at all. His eyes tear up instantly, lashes beginning to clump, the slate sting blooming across his cheeks like a high.

Katsuki holds him there for a breath. Two.

Then pulls back again, slow, dragging his cock against Eijirou’s tongue until only the head remains inside.

“Can you take it again?” He asks.

Eijirou nods, dizzy from it and grateful. And Katsuki sinks right back in.

They build from there. A brutal punishing rhythm. Katsuki uses his mouth like it’s his fucking right. Fist tight in Eijirou’s hair, thighs bracketing wide, abs tensing with every wet slap of skin against skin.

Everytime Eijirou chokes it's real and Katsuki praises him for it.

“That’s it. That’s my fucking good boy.”

“You like that? Like being my toy? Like being used, Eiji?”

“Wider, baby, like you want it. You wanted this, yeah? You begged for it?”

Eijirou hadn’t, not really, but he would’ve. Would’ve done it in front of everyone they just left at the bar if it meant getting Katsuki’s cock down his throat like this. Would’ve dropped to his knees in the goddamn parking lot if Katsuki just snapped his fingers. It’s the way Katsuki sounds when he fucks into his mouth like this. The bite of his words like he’s fighting every urge to come. The rough edge of it when he swears. The low groan when Eijirou moans around him like he’s choking on something too.

Eijirou starts to hum, barely conscious of it. Just the vibration of need and desperation spilling up from his chest. It earns him a sharp jerk of hips and a helpless gasp above. A command to do it again. Eijirou hums louder this time. He lets his lips seal tight around the shaft, tongue pressed flat, chin angled just right to take him deeper.

He wants to sob.

 Wants to keep going until he’s raw and trembling. Until Katsuki can’t stand anymore. Until he’s got the taste of him buried so deep in his throat he’ll still be coughing on it tomorrow. 

Katsuki’s panting now. Unraveled. “Gonna fuckin’ come—shit—gonna come down your throat if you don’t stop.”

That’s what Eijirou wants. What he needs. He moans around it, lets his throat go slack, and leans forward that last half inch until his nose is buried in Katsuki’s pelvis again. His lungs burn. His jaw aches. Spit slicks his chin, ropes of it sliding down to his collarbones. He wants it. Wants all of it. Wants to taste it, swallow it, wear it.

Wants to be ruined by it. By him. By this.

Above him, Katsuki’s body coils like a live wire. His hands clutch Eijirou’s hair and holds him in place, like if he lets go he’ll fall apart. And when that first burst of hot, bitter slick floods the back of Eijirou’s throat it's like a damn electrical storm.

Katsuki gorans, loud, head thudding back against the door. His hips jerk once, twice, and Eijirou chokes on his instinctive swallow. Throat fluttering around the thick spill.

“Fuck—fuck baby, that’s it,” Katsuki hisses, voice already cracking. “Take it. Take it all. Shit, that’s it, good boy. Good fucking boy. Taking it for me.”

The praise hits Eijirou harder than the come does. He’s not even touching himself but he feels like he might shatter. His cock pulses in his jeans, leaking through the fabric, and he whimpers low in his throat as another hot wave hits his tongue.

Katsuki starts to pull out, slow, trembling, and the last of it spills out messy and uncontrolled.

A penultimate thick white rope streaks across Eijirou’s lolling tongue, his lips, his chin. Then the final hits high on his cheekbone, warm and wet. It slides toward his jaw, catches in the scruff he hasn't shaved in two days, then drips down near the corner of his mouth. 

He doesn’t flinch. And he sure as hell doesn’t wipe it away. He just looks up. Eyes glassy. Lips swollen. Face absolutely wrecked.

Katsuki stares down at him like he’s never seen anything more beautiful. His chest heaves. His knees shake. His softening cock twitches once, still flushed and glistening, as if already tempted to start all over again. 

“Holy—” Katsuki breathes, reaching out to thumb across Eijirou’s open mouth. “You look…I mean… Jesus, Ei.”

Eijirou feels himself grinning. Slow. A little lazy. Filth. Tongue darting out to catch the droplet hanging from his lower lip. He tastes like Katsuki now. Feels it in his throat, the lingering warmth. The salt. The aftershocks humming through his skin like a second heartbeat. He reaches up with one trembling hand and wipes some of the come off his cheek, then licks it from his palm like he’s licking icing from his fingers.

Katsuki just stares for a beat. Then two. Then— “Get on the floor.”

Eijirou shudders and his cock throbs. He drops back, already scrambling to obey. Jeans shoved down just enough to free himself, his breath hitched and eyes still wet. 

Katsuki’s moving too. Stepping out of his boots. Tugging off his shirt. Leaving it somewhere behind him. There’s a gleam in his eye now, something low and dark and burning.

“You wanna keep being used?” He asks, kneeling, knees to either side of him, and barely remembering to reach for the bottle in the drawer by the door. His weight is heavy. Commanding. He hasn’t even kissed him yet. Not once. He just leans over him, eyes wild, mouth parted for a breath he hasn’t caught. He pops the lube open with his teeth like he can’t be bothered to slow down. “Wan’ me to feel this tomorrow?” 

His voice is low. Hungry. He slicks his fingers with a single swipe before itching behind himself. “You’re gonna feel it too. Gonna feel it in your throat. In your knees. In your cock. You’re not gonna forget where you were. What you did.”

Eijirou can barely breathe. He’s wrecked from the mouth down. Face glazed, lips bitten, throat sore in a way that feels like pride. But nothing compares to this. To watching Katsuki work two fingers into himself with ruthless efficiency. Lips twisting in something between a gasp and a growl. No stretch session. No patience. Just need.

Eijirou’s cock twitches helplessly. Sticky against his stomach.

“You see that?” Katsuki spits, grinding his fingers deeper, thighs trembling around Eijirou’s hips. “I’m still so fucking open for you. Couldn't even tighten up after last time. You ruined me, baby.”

“Fuck, Katski,” Eijirou croaks, eyes wide. “You’re gonna—”

“I know what I’m gonna do,” Katsuki snaps, pulling his fingers out slick and careless. “You just lie there and don’t come before I say so.”

Eijirou moans, both hands flexing on Katsuki’s thigh like he needs something to anchor him, or he’s gonna fly apart.

And then Katsuki reaches back, grips the base of Eijirou’s cock, hot and heavy and twitching, and sinks down. A long slow slide of heat and stretch and tight fucking pressure that makes Eijirou’s head slam back against the floor with a soundless gasp.

Katsuki groans like he’s been gutted. “Fuck—Fuck, that’s so—so deep I—” 

He’s not even halfway yet, thighs shaking, chest rising and falling like he’s running sprints. But he continues to move, inch by tight, unforgiving inch until his ass is flush with Eijirou’s thighs and his cock is buried to the root, pulsing helplessly inside him.

They don’t move for a second. Just breaths shared.

Eijirou’s fingers dig into Katsuki’s skin, his mouth opening in a silent reverent sound. “Holy shit.” 

“Yeah,” Katsuki grins. Sharp and wild. “Holy shit.”

Then he moves.

A slow grind. A cruel rise. A snap back down so hard Eijirou swears his vision whites out.

Katsuki fucks himself on Eijirou’s cock like he’s starving. Like this isn’t for Eijirou at all. Like he’s using him for friction and nothing more. Like Eijirou’s just something warm and hard and thick enough to get him off . And Eijirou lives for it.

“Oh my God,” he moans, hips jerking involuntarily.

Katsuki slaps a hand on his chest, nails threatening to scrape. “You don’t move.” He rises again, slow and mean, before dropping back down. Taking Eijirou deep with a wet slap of skin against skin. 

“I make the rules,” he pants. “You come when I say. You touch me when I let you. You fill me when I tell you I want it.”

“Yours,” Eijirou breathes, completely gone already. “Fuck, Katsuki—yours.”

Katsuki leans over him, one palm flat beside his head, the other wrapped tight around Eijirou’s throat—not squeezing, just resting there. A threat. A claim.

“Damn right you are,” He leans forward there, captures Eijirou in a bruising kiss that’s all teeth and spit and want. “All mine.”

He sits back up and the rhythm turns punishing.

Katsuki rides him like it’s a challenge. Like he wants to break him with nothing but the strength of his thighs and the heat of his walls squeezing tight around him. Every drop sends a full body shock through Eijirou’s frame. His cock held so deep it borders on unbearable.

And Katsuki is talking through it. Never fucking stops. 

“This is what you wanted? Huh?” Slap. “Wanted me stuffed full of you?” Grind. “Didn’t even prep enough. Didn’t need to. Can feel you. Every fucking inch of you.”

Eijirou can’t answer properly. The words are gone. Dissolved into heat under his skin. His lips part in helpless little gasps. Hands fisting weakly at Katsuki’s thighs like he can hold on if he just stays grounded. But he’s…floating. He’s unmoored. His breath is hitching. His skin is flushed to the tips of his ears.

Katsuki sees it.

“Uh-uh,” he growls, leaning in so close Eijirou can feel the grit of his voice in his chest. “Don’t you fucking drift yet. Look at me.”

Eijirou tries. God, he tries. Blinking up through a haze of heat and overstimulation. His mouth trembling on everything he can’t manage to say. 

“You still with me?” Katsuki huffs, riding him slower for just a second. Grinding. Dragging. Making him feel it. “Then tell me who you belong to.”

Eijirou’s tongue is heavy. His voice barely works. But he gets out a broken “You.” 

Katsuki’s breath stutters. “Like you mean it.”

“I’m yours.”

“Again, baby. Louder.”

“ Yours. ”

“Fucking right, ” Katsuki hisses, slamming back down so hard Eijirou sobs.

Faster. Rougher. Katsuki rolling his hips in brutal arcs, pulling little sounds from Eijirou that aren’t even words anymore. Just moans and choked-off cries and choppy bits of syllables that all mean the same broken don’t stop.

Katsuki’s hand is back to his throat. His other digs into Eijirou’s chest, holding him down, using him like a seat. Like a throne. Like he’s earned this power and won't let up until it’s carved into Eijirou’s bones. 

“You feel that?” Katsuki pants, the sound obscene around Eijirou’s cock. “Feel how good you feel for me?”

Eijirou nods. Wide-eyed and a little dumb.

“I could fuckin’ come again just like this,” he growls, “Could take you all fuckin’ night. Keep bouncing on this cock till you’re raw and crying for it.”

“I—” Eijirou tries, but the words dissolve into a moan.

Katsuki grins like he’s won something. “That’s it. Don’t try talking unless it's my name or what’s mine.”

Eijirou gasps, desperate now. “Yours. Yours. Yours—”

“Damn right,” Katsuki snarls. “All’ve you. These hands. This cock. Your fuckin’ mouth. It’s mine. All mine.”

It’s a litany now. Eijirou repeating it like a prayer over broken breaths.

Yours, yours, yours.

Until it doesn’t feel like a word anymore. Moreso a state of being. He’s not Eijirou right now. He’s just Katsuki’s. And Katsuki knows it. He must be able to feel it in the way Eijirou twitches underneath him. In the way his cock pulses helplessly inside, the way his mouth moves but can’t form anything but need.

“Fuck,” Katsuki pants. Riding harder now, chasing it. “You gonna come for me? Huh? Gonna fill me up like a good fuckin’ toy? You want to?”

He leans back slowly, bracing his palms against Eijirou’s thighs to keep himself upright. His legs are shaking, sweat slicked down his spine, and his chest heaves like he’s been sprinting. He rides Eijirou hard. Hips slapping down in a viscous rhythm. Obscene and messy. The angle makes Eijirou see stars. Katsuki’s cock hangs flushed and half-hard again, bobbing between them with every bounce. He’s already dripping against his own stomach like he never got a break.

“You see this?” Katsuki pants, one hand sliding down to press flat against his lower stomach. “Fuck—I can feel you right here, baby. Right fucking here. You’re so fucking deep.”

Eijirou moans, eyes fluttering open and closed, glassy and wide. He feels it too. The way Katsuki clenches around him. The tight drag that gets slicker with every grind. He can’t tell where his cock ends and Katsuki begins.

Katsuki’s hand presses harder against his belly. “Feel you stretching me. Stuffing me so full.  You gonna come, Ei? You wanna come?”

Eijirou chokes on a breath. Can’t find words. Just nods and sobs, the pleasure so tight it’s like a knot under his ribs.

“You hold it, " Katsuki bites, snapping his hips down so hard Eijirou whimpers. “You fucking hold it.”

He does. God, he tries. His fists are balled against the hardwood floor. His thighs trembling under Katsuki’s weight.

“Whose this cock belong to?” Katsuki breathes more than anything. Like the words get caught in a gasp as his head lolls back and his eyes squeeze shut. They hit like a body blow and Eijirou gasps, jaw slack. “C’mon, baby boy. Say it.”

He opens his mouth in an attempt. Something like you. Or yours. Or please God I need to come. Let me come. Let me fucking come Kat, I’m so fucking close. But nothing comes out. Instead, a long rolling sound from his gut slips out. Like every last breath he’s been holding in his chest spills out of him without warning.

It’s answer enough. 

Katsuki’s eyes blow wide as he looks back down at him, something desperate behind the smug. He reaches down and palms a slick hand against Eijirou’s chest and growls “See what you do to me?” His hips move faster, losing precision. “You fuckin’ see it? You see me still getting hard for you?” 

He grabs his own cock, a twitching, fattening mess. He lets out a trembling breath as it stiffens to full mast in his hand. “You fucking ruin me.”

Eijirou’s cock pulses deep inside him, pushing a gasp out of Katsuki. “Ohh, fuck,” he moans, deep and cracked. “I can feel it. Feel you throbbing. Feel your fucking need. Look at you, baby.”

Eijirou can’t. His head lolls back, mouth open, breath stuttering.

“You’re so far gone,” Katsuki would taunt if the words weren’t lost to a damn near whiny moan as he dropped his chin to his chest and rode him harder. “So fucked out you can’t even fucking think, huh? Fuck, Ei—ah— Ah fuck. You’re gonna…gonna make me come again. You want that? Want me to come on this cock like I need it?”

“Please!” Eijirou pushes out, tears beginning to prick up at the corners of his eyes again. “Fuck, Kat. Please.”

He barely even knows what he’s begging for anymore. Just knows it starts and ends with Katsuki. That ever slick grind, every filthy word, every fuck means you own me.

Means I’m yours.

The rhythm’s gone feral. It’s all messy grinding and desperate breaths pushed out from deep in their diaphragms. It’s like Katsuki’s body is trying to ring a second orgasm out from pure muscle memory and want alone. And if Eijirou was more sentient, there’d be a sort of pride blooming in his chest.

His thighs tremble with every slap down, his spine arching, and his hands—God his hands—have found his cock. Slick with sweat and spurts of more precome.

Eijirou feels like he’s dying. His cock throbs inside Katsuki like it’s too much, like it’s already coming. Like he’s spent every last drop of control just to survive these last few minutes. There’s something close to begging spilling out of him now. Wordless sounds of ultimate pleasure. Broken ahs and ohs and yours yours yours between sobs. 

“You gonna come for me, Ei?” Katsuki’s voice is strangled as he opens his eyes once more, gaze peering down at him. “You gonna fill me up like you should, huh? Stuff me full, bab— fuck. Fuck!” His back arches, his head falls back, his cock twitches in his fist.

“I’m coming,” he gasps out a filthy sound that catches in the back of his throat. “Fuck. Fuck, Ei, baby, I’m coming!”

He spills across his stomach in hot, sticky ropes. Some landing on Eijirou’s chest, some catching across Katsuki’s hand, his wrist, his lower belly. Slick and flowing in the half-light. His thighs lock up. His mouth hangs open. He barely even moans through it, just breaths like the orgasm ripped all the sound from him. 

The clamp of his ass around Eijirou’s cock is brutual. So tight, so fucking hot, that Eijirou shouts. A hoarse, broken sound. His hips buck once before Katsuki slams him back down.

“Give it to me,” Katsuki pants, voice gutted. “C’mon c’mon c’mon c’mon, baby. Fuckin’ give it to me!”

Eijirou lets go with a full body convulsion. His back bowing off the floor, hands scrabbling at Katsuki’s thighs. He cries out a broken Tsuki slurred and sob-wet as he comes deep. Cock pulsing over and over inside that slick, squeezing heat.

It feels like it doesn’t end. Like he’s been holding back for hours. Days. Like this is everything he’s been waiting for. And Katsuki’s milking every drop from him with every flutter and clench.

“Fuck yes,” Katsuki breathes, grinding slow now as he rides out his own aftershocks. “That’s it, baby boy.”

Eijirou gasps for air. He’s gone. He’s absolutely gone.

Katsuki looks down at himself, something unrecognizable flashing across his features before he takes a palm and wipes it across his lower stomach, slathering come against his open palm. He then reaches down, traces the planes of Eijirou’s left side all the way up to his chest, hand sweeping over his pec and thumb settling on his nipple. In the small act he’s dragged his come from Eijirou’s hip to his clavicle.

He’s marked him.

He’s his. 

Their breath fills the room. Wrecked. Raw. Holy.

Katsuki slowly lowers himself down, tremors shaking his core that Eijirou only feels when they’re chest to chest. Their skin is still flushed and sticky. His come is leaking around is cock and spilling back into his lap. 

They just breathe. Ragged and slow. Chests rising and falling against each other. Sweat-slick and tacky where their skin sticks. Their foreheads are nearly touching and their exhales mingle in the narrow space between.

Eijirou’s cock softens gradually inside of him, each twist met with another aftershock. But Katsuki doesn’t do so much as move.

Eijirou has to strain his neck to see it. To watch as Katsuki’s eyelids flutter close while he presses his lips lazily against Eijirou’s jaw. His cheek. The corner of his mouth. It’s not quite a kiss. Not at first. Just contact. Just confirmation. It takes three presses of skin against skin before Eijirou can find the energy to turn into it, chasing him. It becomes something soft. Slow. Open-mouthed.

Katsuki sighs through his nose, brushing their lips together again and again until Eijirou melts under him like he’s trying to sink into the floor.

“Ei,” Katsuki murmurs, letting their foreheads meet once more. “You good?”

 An answer…sits somewhere in the back of Eijirou’s skull. He feels that his eyes are held open a little too wide even though visually he’s still looking through a pleasure soaked gauzey haze. His lashes feel heavy, wet. And as much as he tries to emote, his expression feels slack with the kind of exhaustion that comes from being fucked completely out of his mind. 

Katsuki blinks down at him. “You good?” He asks again, something like concern finally coloring his tone.

Eijirou blinks back up at him, like he’s trying to locate himself in real time. His lips part but nothing comes out, just a soft breath and a dopey smile.

“Shit,” Katsuki chuckles, lazy and a little wrecked. “You’re cooked.”

He leans forward. Kisses him again, soft and a little stupid, before nosing down to his throat and murmuring a soft, “I’m the one who came twice you, greedy bastard. You should be takin’ care of me.”

It makes Eijirou’s smile soften, faint and a little slow, like the words are filtering through cotton. One hand lights, shaky and aimless, landing somewhere near Katsuki’s back. The touch barely registers.

“Alright,” With a groan, Katsuki finally pushes himself up, his legs wobbling like a newborn dear. The shift makes Eijirou gasps beneath him and Katsuki steadies himself on Eijirou’s chest before pulling off slow and careful. His thighs are still trembling and his stomach is streaked with white. He’s half-laughing and catching the wall for better balance. “Don’t move a fuckin’ inch.”

He vanishes from Eijirou’s line of sight just as he manages to hum something that might be a yes. Or might just be the sound of recognition as the world outside of Katsuki comes back in pieces. 

First there’s the sound of the drudge opening and closing. Then footsteps returning. Then the feeling of the cool tile under his back, tacky with sweat, shortly followed by the weight of his arms like anchors at his sides.

Eijirou blinks up at the ceiling. He doesn’t entirely mean to. His eyes just open. He hadn’t realized he closed them. But they’re open now, slow and hazy, catching a flash of movement before Katsuki drops back down to his knees beside him.

“Hey,” Katsuki says, voice soft, like he’s been waiting for the moment for Eijirou to come to. “There he is.”

“Here I am,” Eijirou turns his head just enough to see him. Katsuki looks flushed and glowing. His hair sticking up in places it normally wouldn’t. Sweat clinging to his collarbones and the smear of dried come across his stomach. He’s never looked so good.

Eijirou tries another smile. This one is small. Barely lifts the corners of his lips. 

Katsuki grins anyway, looking down just long enough to set a sweating glass of water onto the tile floor. “You’re a fucking mess.”

“And who did that?”

“Calm down, asshole. I’m gonna clean you up,” Katsuki rings it out over Eijirou’s chest with a little twist before leaning forward and pressing it to the dip between his pecs. Then sweeping over each one slowly before bringing the warm towel down his flanks. Wiping slow, small circles around the lines of dried come still cooling there.

The touch or the attention makes Eijirou twitch.

Katsuki slows as he wipes over a pebbling nipple. “Easy, baby. S’okay.” He works his way lower, wiping across his hips and the soft skin of his thighs. When he gets to his cock he works slowly. Methodically. It would be clinical if it wasn’t so gentle. 

Eijirou thinks he might cry.

“Did so good for me,” Katsuki murmurs, setting the cloth to the side. “Let me fuckin’ ruin you this time, huh?”

Eijirou just nods.

Katsuki smiles again. He presses the cool glass of water to Eijirou’s lips, tilting it with one hand and guiding Eijirou’s head with the other. “Small sips.”

Eijirou drinks because he’s told to. Because it’s Katsuki telling him. The water hits his tongue and makes his whole mouth ache and Katsuki brushes his thumb along Eijirou’s jaw as he swallows. “There you go,” He says, tone gentle.

Then, he leans down and kisses him. It’s soft. Grounding. Just the press of lips with none of the heat from earlier. It’s the sort of kiss that you give someone you’d die for. Or live for.

Or carry them to bed if they couldn’t stand on their own.

“I know,” Katsuki whispers against his mouth before pulling away. They stay close as he wipes the corner of Eijirou’s eye next, catching the wetness that’s gathered there. Whether it’s from earlier or now, Eijirou doesn’t know. Doesn’t matter. “I know.”

Katsuki gathers Eijirou close, hoists him up with a grunt, and starts the slow walk toward their bedroom. Eijirou lets his head fall against his shoulder, eyes slipping shut again. “M’ yours,” He says, just under his breath. “I like being yours.”

“Yeah, I know…” Katsuki hums. “I like it too.”