“Y’know, you weren’t being very subtle at dinner, forestling.”
Smoke fills Izuku’s lungs with his next breath. He presses himself further against the wall, looking anywhere except the changeling’s blazing red eyes. He’s surrounded by arms adorned with muscles and markings, and in the firelight of the barbarian castle’s grand halls, they glisten with rosemary-scented oil. The glimmer is mesmerizing to Izuku, the way these very arms had been perfectly highlighted during the whole banquet. Every curve and valley of muscle seems to glow even here in the dim lighting. They leave nothing to the imagination, but Izuku wants more than a simple look at Eijirou.
But of course, it’s more than a toned physique painted to shine that catches Izuku’s breath in the back of his throat.
He squares his shoulders and shifts on his feet, barely regaining his bearings to answer, “What if I wasn’t trying to be subtle?”
Heat rushes to fill his cheeks as those bright red eyes darken. The pupils narrow into slits, and the intensity of the stare only intensifies when that long, pink, forked tongue emerges from a wicked smirk that this man could only have learned from—
“Then I pray you’re ready for the consequences. I’ve been itching to eat you alive since you came here,” Eijirou growls despite the blush dusting his high cheekbones.
Izuku shivers violently as the distance between them fades. The air heats with their labored breaths. Izuku’s gloved hands fist against the plaster at his back as he shifts up on his toes and closes his eyes.
For all their suggestive banter, for all the magnetism between their bodies and all the dreams raging Izuku’s mind with absolute filth night after long hot night, their kiss is warm and hesitant. They’re both careful, reveling in the flame that blooms so readily in the space between their bodies. Izuku feels his skin flush vibrantly under their pursing lips. His skin vibrates with ill-concealed desire, hot and heavy and buzzing to touch, to press forward into this unknown.
“Please,” Izuku breathes against the absolutely addicting taste, “by all means, take your fill.”
The sharp scream of a blade drags against the stonecast floor. The sound has him jumping back from those hypnotizing lips on instinct, despite the desperation that pools in his loins.
The changeling growls. He hunches further over Izuku, protective and tense, before they both turn toward the horrible sound.
The ruthless King of the Wastes cocks his hip and throws his cutlass back into his belt loop. His grin is as feral and wild as any animal’s, the same predatory stare that had haunted Izuku’s thoughts since they were oh so young. It's the very look that had morphed over the years they’d spent apart into something burned into the backs of Izuku’s eyelids every time he’d touched himself when he was alone.
“Kacchan,” Izuku’s lips ghost across the expanse of muscled chest towering over him. He wills himself not to move a muscle when his length twitches in horrible betrayal.
“I kinda like the sound of eating you alive , Deku,” Bakugou says lowly before shifting to look at Eijirou with an intensity born of something Izuku had never seen on those features before. “Besides, I wouldn’t want you to spoil my partner with anything too sweet .”
They exhale together as Bakugou approaches, shoulders back and broad with steps measured and quick. They pull him into their embrace easily, all bodies and sweat and heat, and he moans Eijirou’s name so prettily when the two of them kiss right before Izuku’s eyes.
And despite the long journey to get here, Izuku knows he won’t be getting all that much rest tonight.
It’s Eijirou who tears away from Katsuki’s lips first. As he leans back, he keeps Katsuki’s plump bottom lip between his sharp incisors. Small beads of blood pool down at Katsuki’s gum line with the motion, and Izuku barely catches a glint of pale calluses where Eijirou had obviously done the same thing many, many times before.
Need surges within his chest, and he's more than ready to drown in it. He keens from behind his clenched jaw, a sound high-pitched a desperate through his nose. Katsuki and Eijirou look at him at the same time, out of the corners of their eyes. Red burns into Izuku’s retinas like fire, wild and rolling and unpredictable. If one of them doesn’t touch him right now, he might burst into the flames that scorch along his bloodstream.
Katsuki takes his lip back from Eijirou, but not without leaving a thin trail of warm saliva and blood between them. He licks at the cuts subconsciously, gaze still heavy on Izuku, unrelenting and molten.
“Well, warrior? You’ve had your banquet, as promised. Will you idle for a good dicking, after everything you have won—?”
The words bristle on Izuku’s tongue like ash, bitter and pungent the longer Katsuki speaks down that beautiful nose at him. It toils until Izuku might hurl his meal, until he’s sick with the pretense of procedure from Katsuki. That sort of speech doesn’t belong here, not when Izuku’s cock is pulsing with his harried heartbeat. Not when he’s been observing Eijirou and Katsuki so closely the whole time, these last few months. Not when he’s finally about to get exactly what he’s dreamed of in lucid fantasies so dark and terrible.
So he cuts Katsuki’s bravado off with a few harsh words growled into the dim lamplight from his very core.
“Shut up, Kacchan.”
Katsuki stops dead. His limbs hang limp at his sides as he looks Izuku from head to toe, as if he’s taking stock of the Izuku standing here and now for the first time. His high cheekbones color considerably as he stares Izuku down, and his fingers twitch restlessly at his side while he deciphers this puzzle before him, while he finally appreciates those lust-blown green eyes and tenting trousers.
Eijirou’s soft laughter breaks the spell Katsuki’s fallen under. All at once, with the force of the wild king he’s rumored to have become, he throws himself at Izuku. Like they always have, they eventually collide into each other.
Izuku tastes blood and moans. His thighs twitch at the press of Katsuki's sudden knee between them, pushing them apart while pressing Izuku's hip bone painfully into the stone wall. He can't chase more pressure on his cock, not trapped like this, not without tearing Katsuki away.
And with the way Katsuki kisses him, like he needs Izuku's tongue and Izuku's lips and Izuku's teeth to keep living for even one more moment, well… how could he push him away?
"You're so beautiful like this, baby," Eijirou moans from over Katsuki's shoulder. He must be pressed against Katsuki's ass, with the way Izuku can feel them grinding against him together, with the way they move in sync. Izuku tenses when Katsuki moans into his mouth. It's deep and slutty and desperate for more, and Izuku is instantly drunk off of it.
"He's so hot. He likes this so much. Gods, you're both so hot, baby. You're so hot for him, aren't you?" Eijirou starts to mumble, alternating bites to Katsuki's ear and wide hands stroking at Izuku's side.
For a fleeting moment, Izuku thinks Eijirou might be calling him by that name, something so warm and familiar and attentive all at once. His body surges with it, suddenly terribly desperate for both realities to be true.
To lead a life where someone as beautiful and powerful and sincere as Eijirou might love both Izuku and Katsuki, as fucked up as they are, despite nearly killing each other mere days ago.
And maybe Katsuki's words from the aftermath of that match had rung true.
"I need you to live, Izuku. That's all I've ever needed, but…"
He feels Eijirou drop to his knees between them. He whines desperately when Katsuki pulls away just enough to loosen their cocks out of their trousers. He nearly screams into Katsuki's mouth when Eijrou's hand and tongue curl around the head of his dick, when the thrumming pulse along his shaft meets the harried heartbeat in Katsuki's.
"Maybe now I can focus on something other than that, for once in my fucking life."