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Izuku's face is pressed against his thigh - his bare thigh - and Eijirou has a moment to wonder what he was thinking.

It had seemed so funny in the coffee shop, cradling a cup of chai, staring across the table at Katsuki and Mina. He was content in the presence of his friends, listening to their conversation wash over him and basking in their company. He had never wanted for companions, not as friendly as he is, but this is a different kind of connection, a closeness forged in the fires of all that they had been through.

And then Mina had asked about Izuku (How is he doing?) and Katsuki had smirked (He’s good) and Mina had laughed (Yeah, so are you, apparently. You know everyone can hear you two going at it) and Eijirou had butted in.

I can’t believe you actually asked him out. I can’t believe he said yes.

Katsuki had shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant and only marginally succeeding. Mina laughed again and Eijirou, drunk on good feelings, had opened his stupid mouth.

I always kinda wanted to ask him out. He’s so… beautiful, with his eyes glazed in pleasure as Katsuki's fingers work in and out, slowly stretching him. Eijirou is paralyzed with need, his fingers clench the sheets as Izuku mouths his thigh, wet kisses that lead slowly, inexorably up. He stares at the back of Izuku's head, the tense knot of his shoulders, the sweep and scoop of his spine and back. His skin is brushed with scars, ragged but somehow beautiful against his pale skin. Katsuki is there, murmuring, pressing kisses to the small of Izuku's back, pushing another finger in. Eijirou can't look at him, can't face the gentle smugness in his friend’s eyes.

Izuku breathes out, a puff of warm air against the base of Eijirou's cock. He moans low. He’s fooled around with other guys before but never like this, never two at the same time. And for all their fighting, all the strife they’d caused each other in the early years of school, they move almost like one person. It’s so smooth, so effortless, Izuku and Katsuki, Katsuki and Izuku, they know what they want, what they need and now they've brought him into it and he feels like a stone, cold and immovable and strange.

Izuku's lips fasten around the head of his prick, blissfully warm, and he makes a noise between a scream and a moan. Izuku tips his head back, looks up at him. It is impossible to believe that this is the same Midoriya that he knows. He is deliciously submissive, his eyes wide and dazed with pleasure, and Eijirou wants so badly to touch him. To cup his face. To guide those swollen lips down.

He shifts, laying his hand alongside his leg, chewing at his lower lip. It's all so strange, like being suspended in a moment that does not want him; even with Izuku's mouth on his cock, he feels set apart, disconnected from the deep history and volatile but powerful emotions that Izuku and Katsuki share. But he loves them both dearly and Katsuki’s eyes had been so intense when he’d asked Eijirou to join them, like it was something that he’d been wanting the entire time. As strange as it feels right now, he doesn’t want to disappoint his friends, so he presses his fingertips to Izuku's cheek and strokes his soft, freckled skin.

He is rewarded with a moan and sweet suction as Izuku shifts forward, taking him in deeper (he'd laughed when Eijirou drew his cock out, his eyes lighting up, and he'd whispered 'god, you're thick, look at that' as he crawled up onto the bed) stretching his lips around the widest part of Eijirou's shaft. It is nothing short of sublime, the best head he's ever had, and then Izuku screams against him and jerks forward and Eijirou's eyes snap up.

Katsuki is there still, holding Izuku open with both hands, tongue flicking teasingly across Izuku's tight hole. Eijirou draws a slow, shuddering breath as he watches. Izuku squirms and sucks greedily at his cock, lips and tongue moving in frantic concert even as he grinds his hips back against Katsuki's face. Katsuki, who holds him effortlessly, controls the motion of his body, applies the perfect amount of pressure. Katsuki, who knows Izuku so deeply.

Katsuki, who invited Eijirou into their lives and their bed.

He is deft, crouched there behind Izuku, driving him to the edge with his flickering tongue and then laving the over-sensitive skin, soothing the whimpering cries that burst from Izuku's throat. It's perfection to watch, this calculated tease, the easiness of knowing exactly what will reduce another human being to pure impulse. Eijirou admires that in Katsuki and even for a moment imagines what that wicked tongue would feel like against his own skin.

Eijirou's mind, driven to the edge of lust itself and infuriatingly adept at imagining sensations - particularly the ones that relate to Katsuki, for whom he’s carried a torch since they met in their first year - triggers the basest instincts of his body. His hips roll up. His hand cups the back of Izuku's head. Fingers tangle in mussed green hair. Izuku moans low, chokes as Eijirou pushes up into his mouth, and all of Eijirou's inhibitions melt away in the heat of Izuku's throat.

He doesn't know how long he's like that, head thrown back, thrusting into the endless eager wetness of Izuku's mouth. He knows that he loves it, knows that Izuku is good at it. Terrifyingly good, all soft lips and eager tongue and clutching, greedy fingers. He knows that if he pushes too far in, Izuku will gag, and he knows that there is a perverse pleasure in doing just that. He knows that Izuku is swallowing around him, moaning to encourage him. He knows, with a twinge of guilt, that this is something that he has wanted for too long.

And then Katsuki's voice breaks through the haze of lust and he can feel warm breath against his ear, teeth nipping at his earlobe. The words fall like stones into his mind (Eijirou do you want him, do you want to fuck him, he's so tight, he nearly broke my fingers when you touched his face) and Eijirou sobs in his throat and nods his head and Katsuki's lips trail down the column of his throat, down the side of his chest, down his belly, down and down and down until Izuku's warmth lifts away and another takes its place.

Katsuki's mouth is different, harder, hotter. His lips are thinner, his throat deeper. Eijirou pushes all the way in, hands shaking against Katsuki's shoulders, waiting for him to choke, waiting for him to pull back, but he doesn't. He opens up to it, sucking and swallowing, and his lips are against the base of Eijirou's shaft and Eijirou grinds his teeth so hard that it drowns out the thunder of blood in his ears.

He can hear Izuku laughing, not in mockery but in sweet, excited enjoyment, and then Katsuki's mouth is gone and Izuku is swinging a leg over him, his hands resting on Eijirou's shoulders. He is more gorgeous now than before, swollen lips and flushed cheeks, and he stares down at Eijirou with a smile that borders on adoration. Ready? he mouths and Eijirou nods and a hand grips his prick and slicks it - Katsuki, back at his ear, kissing Eijirou's jaw and holding his cock steady as Izuku sinks down. Eijirou feels Izuku's thighs flex, feels Katsuki's hand slip up to aim the head of his prick, and then he is engulfed again and Izuku is sobbing with pleasure as he rocks his hips down, taking Eijirou deeper and deeper until he's fully inside and Izuku is resting in Eijirou's lap with hectic spots of color in his cheeks and a dazed light in his half-lidded eyes.

He rests for a minute and then begins to move. Eijirou grips his thighs, loving the way the muscles bunch and pull against his palms as Izuku rides him. He is tight, gloriously so, and the roll of his hips pulls Eijirou deep inside his body. His prick, full and swollen and aching, bobs between them as he moves. He doesn't reach down to touch it, doesn't so much as acknowledge his own pleasure - though clearly he loves the way another man feels inside him. His eyes roll, a flush of red creeps down his neck.

Good boy and slow down drip from Katsuki's lips like honey, wicked and low and sweet as he shifts around behind Izuku and rests his hands possessively on those compact hips. He hasn't even taken his pants off, a fact which Eijirou notes with abstract amusement. Still perfectly controlled and controlling, even as he forces Izuku forward, leaning over his shoulder to press light, teasing kisses against Eijirou's eager mouth.

He's so tight Eijirou whispers and isn't he perfect? Katsuki answers and Izuku laughs and bites Eijirou's chest and murmurs against his skin I'm right here, I'm right here, say it to me. And Eijirou cups the back of Izuku's head and breathes filthy words into the shell of his ear as his hips move, grinding up, setting a new, harder pace. Katsuki backs off, his hands falling to his waist, and Eijirou hears the rasp of a zipper. He wants to look but doesn't, wants to prolong this but can't. Izuku squeezes him too tight, takes him too deep, and it is just too, too damn sweet. Pleasure swells like a balloon in his belly and then Izuku bites his throat and whimpers please Eijirou please come on baby please and his hips feel bruised from slamming up into Izuku.

He comes with a low scream, raw and primal. His fingers bite into Izuku's skin, dragging him down, holding him still and Izuku sobs as Eijirou tenses, trembling on the edge of his own orgasm but denied it by the sudden cessation of movement. Eijirou twitches, licks sweat from his lips. Izuku shifts tenderly, lifting himself up, breathing hard. He keeps his knees planted on either side of Eijirou's hips and, after a moment, utters a low moan.

Eijirou opens his eyes and smiles wearily; it is Katsuki's turn now, his fingers tangled in Izuku's hair, pulling his head back, slamming into him over and over and it's clear from Izuku's expression that he loves it, clear that the pain and pleasure have become entwined in his mind whenever Katsuki is touching him. Eijirou watches them, the coordination of their movements, the way Izuku knows Katsuki's pace and responds to it, the way Katsuki exerts just enough pressure to keep Izuku's back bowed and his throat exposed. It's beautiful. And he is a part of it.

His fingers stretch, shift, enclose Izuku's prick, and he howls in pleasure as Eijirou begins to stroke him in time with Katsuki's thrusts. His cock is so hard that it must be painful; tears of agonized ecstasy drip down his face. Please, he mouths, oh god please and Eijirou laughs softly and nods his head and Izuku convulses as he comes, spilling himself across Eijirou's belly, clenching so tight around Katsuki that he cries out, cursing and gasping as he drives in again and again and again, fucking Izuku's over-stimulated body until he too shudders and stops moving.

There is a frozen moment then. Sweat drips from Izuku's brow. Katsuki rests inside him, Eijirou rests beneath him. The three of them have shared something now and there is no going back from it. Eijirou feels the weight of that truth pressing down on him, and an answering blossom of fear fills his chest. He pushes himself up onto his elbows, breaking the tableau.

Katsuki pulls out with a soft sigh and grabs the tissues to clean up. Izuku purrs and drops his head, lazily licking the come off of Eijirou's stomach. Slut murmurs Katsuki affectionately. Izuku laughs, warm against Eijirou's skin. Katsuki twists, fishing a towel off of the floor, and tenderly wipes Eijirou clean.

He starts to get up then, to put his clothes on and leave them alone, but Izuku squirms closer, wrapping an arm around Eijirou’s waist. Katsuki laughs, sharp and bright, as Izuku rests his head on Eijirou’s shoulder and closes his eyes. Nice try he says but you’re his now. And he curls up on Eijirou’s other side, cupping his face and pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Yours too, huh? Eijirou laughs in an attempt to quash the nervous flutter in his belly. Katsuki looks at him, his face peaceful for once, and smiles sleepily.

Yeah he says mine too, and Eijirou allows himself to be drawn down into the warmth of their love. There are questions to ask and boundaries to negotiate, but that can wait. For now, he is content.