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“You’re staring again.” Izuku muttered, gripping his cocktail glass a little too tight. The ice had long since melted, leaving the drink lukewarm and diluted, just like his patience.
Across the table, Shindo didn’t even glance up from where his gaze trailed after a passing waitress—some blonde in a sequined dress that barely covered anything. He smirked, lifting his whiskey to his lips. “Jealous?”
Izuku’s stomach twisted. It wasn’t jealousy. It was the sinking realization that this was every night since they’d arrived in Vegas. Shindo’s attention flicked from woman to woman like a hummingbird between flowers, while Izuku sat there, ignored, the fiancé-turned-wallpaper.
The neon lights of the casino floor pulsed outside their lounge booth, casting garish pinks and blues over Shindo’s smug face. Izuku swallowed the sour taste in his mouth. “This was supposed to be our trip.” he said quietly.
Shindo’s laughter was a low, dismissive hum, the sound grating against Izuku’s nerves like sandpaper. “Come on, babe.” he drawled, finally tearing his eyes away from the waitress’s retreating figure to smirk at Izuku. “It’s Vegas. Lighten up.” He reached across the table, fingers brushing Izuku’s wrist in a gesture that might’ve been affectionate if it didn’t feel so perfunctory. “You’re being dramatic.”
Izuku recoiled, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Dramatic?” he repeated, voice trembling. He’d spent days biting his tongue, swallowing the lump in his throat every time Shindo’s gaze wandered, every time his fiancé’s hand lingered too long on someone else’s waist. But this—this casual dismissal—was the final straw. “You promised me this trip would be about us.”
Shindo rolled his eyes, leaning back with an exaggerated sigh. “And it is.” he lied smoothly, swirling his drink. “But you’re acting like I’m fucking them right in front of you. I’m just looking. It’s harmless.”
The words hit Izuku like a physical blow. *Harmless.* As if the way Shindo’s eyes darkened with interest at every stranger wasn’t a betrayal all on its own. As if Izuku’s heart wasn’t cracking a little more each time. “I’m done.” he whispered, pushing himself up from the table. His legs felt unsteady, but he forced himself to stand straight. “I’m not doing this anymore.”
Shindo didn’t even try to stop him as Izuku turned on his heel and strode away, the casino’s cacophony of slot machines and laughter swallowing the sound of his footsteps. The air smelled like stale cigarettes and cheap perfume, and Izuku sucked in a sharp breath, his vision blurring at the edges. He didn’t know where he was going—just *away*.
The bar was dimly lit, tucked into a corner far enough from the main floor that the noise faded into a dull roar. Izuku slumped onto a stool, his fingers trembling as he signaled the bartender. “Something strong.” he muttered, voice rough. The bartender—a wiry man with a bored expression—nodded and slid him a glass of amber liquid without a word. Izuku didn’t hesitate. He knocked it back in one go, the burn searing his throat, and for a moment, the pain was a welcome distraction from the ache in his chest.
That’s when he felt it—the weight of someone’s gaze like a physical touch. Izuku turned his head slightly, and there, three stools down, sat a man who looked like he’d stepped out of a noir film. Sharp jawline, tousled blond hair, eyes like smoldering embers. He was draped in a tailored black tuxedo, one sleeve rolled up to reveal intricate tattoos snaking down his forearm. The way he held his drink—loose, confident, like he owned the place—sent a shiver down Izuku’s spine.
Their eyes met. The man’s lips curled, just slightly, and Izuku’s breath hitched. He wasn’t smiling. It was something darker, more predatory. Like he’d just found exactly what he’d been hunting for.
Izuku barely had time to blink before the stranger slid onto the stool beside him, the heat of his body pressing into Izuku’s personal space like a brand. The bartender materialized instantly—no bored expression now, just a nervous flicker of recognition—and poured another drink for the man without a word. Izuku watched, pulse hammering, as the blond lifted the glass to his lips, his gaze never leaving Izuku’s face.
“Rough night?” The man’s voice was low, rough around the edges like whiskey and smoke.
Izuku swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how close they were. The scent of expensive cologne—something woody and dangerous—wrapped around him, drowning out the casino’s stale air. “You could say that.” he admitted, fingers tightening around his empty glass.
A chuckle, dark and knowing. “Bad taste in men’ll do that to you.”
Izuku blinked, the bluntness of the statement hitting him like a slap. His fingers twitched against his glass, but before he could muster a response, the bartender reappeared—this time with two fresh drinks, sliding one toward each of them with a deference Izuku hadn’t seen all night. The blond nodded once, a silent dismissal, and the bartender vanished again.
"Katsuki." the man said, swirling his drink lazily. The ice clinked against the crystal, sharp and precise.
"I—what?" Izuku stammered, thrown by the sudden introduction.
"My name." Katsuki clarified, those burning eyes never wavering. "Or do you prefer strangers just stare at you all night?" There was no malice in the words, just a teasing edge that made Izuku’s face heat despite himself.
Izuku opened his mouth, then closed it again, feeling like a fish out of water under Katsuki's unwavering gaze. "Izuku." he finally managed, fingers nervously tracing the condensation on his fresh glass. "And—no, staring isn’t exactly my idea of a good time."
Katsuki smirked, the expression slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every flicker of discomfort across Izuku’s face. "Could’ve fooled me." he drawled, tilting his head toward the lounge Izuku had fled from. "Seems like you put up with a lot worse than staring."
The comment hit too close to home. Izuku stiffened, the ache in his chest flaring back to life. He knew what Katsuki was implying—had seen the way Shindo’s attention wandered, how his touch lingered on strangers. But hearing it laid bare by someone who’d barely known him five minutes? That stung.
Before he could muster a retort, Katsuki’s fingers brushed against his wrist—just a fleeting touch, but it sent an electric jolt up Izuku’s arm. "Relax." Katsuki murmured, his voice dropping lower. "I’m not here to twist the knife." He leaned in slightly, close enough that Izuku could see the flecks of gold in his crimson eyes. "I’m here to offer a better option."
Izuku's breath caught as Katsuki's fingers lingered against his skin, the contact unexpectedly warm despite the cool condensation dripping from his glass. "A better option?" he echoed, hating how his voice wavered. The whiskey had loosened his tongue, but not enough to dull the sting of Shindo’s indifference—or the dangerous allure of the man now studying him like a puzzle to be solved.
Katsuki leaned back just enough to take a slow sip of his drink, the movement deliberate, giving Izuku space to bolt if he wanted. He didn’t. "Yeah." Katsuki said, setting the glass down with a soft *clink*. "Someone who actually looks at you like you’re the only person in the room." His thumb traced the rim of his glass idly, eyes never leaving Izuku’s face. "Bet that’d be a fucking novelty."
Izuku’s throat tightened. He should’ve been offended—should’ve bristled at the bluntness—but the words rang painfully true. Instead of anger, a traitorous heat pooled low in his stomach. Katsuki’s gaze was relentless, searing through every half-formed defense Izuku might’ve mustered. "You don’t even know me." he muttered, more to himself than to Katsuki.
A low chuckle. Katsuki’s fingers tapped once against the bar, a silent summons, and the bartender materialized with another drink—something darker, smokier—which Katsuki pushed toward Izuku without a word. "Don’t need to." he said, voice dropping to a murmur. "Saw the way you walked in here. Like you were trying to outrun your own shadow." His lips quirked, not quite a smile. "Also saw that dickhead you left behind eye-fucking the blackjack dealer the second your back turned."
Izuku’s fingers clenched around the new glass Katsuki had pushed toward him, the smoky aroma of the liquor curling into his senses. He wanted to protest, to defend the tattered remains of his pride, but the words died in his throat. Because Katsuki wasn’t wrong. Shindo had been eyeing the dealer before Izuku stormed off—had probably already moved on to someone new by now. The realization made his stomach twist.
"You’re awfully observant." Izuku muttered instead, lifting the drink to his lips. The burn was smoother this time, rich and velvety, like Katsuki had ordered something far more expensive than the swill Izuku had been drowning in earlier.
Katsuki’s smirk deepened, his fingers drumming a slow rhythm against the bar. "Occupational hazard." He didn’t elaborate, but the way the bartender stiffened at the words told Izuku everything he needed to know. This wasn’t just some wealthy tourist. This was someone who commanded respect—or fear—without even raising his voice.
Izuku should’ve been unnerved. Instead, he found himself leaning in, curiosity overriding caution. "And what occupation would that be?"
Katsuki’s grin was all teeth, the kind that made lesser men flinch. He leaned in, close enough that his breath ghosted over Izuku’s ear—warm and tinged with whiskey. “Problem solver.” he murmured, the words dripping with implication. “Among other things.”
Izuku’s pulse kicked up, his fingers tightening around his glass. He knew he should pull away, should laugh this off and go find Shindo—*apologize*, even—but the thought made his skin crawl. Instead, he found himself tilting his head, letting Katsuki’s proximity linger. “Sounds illegal.” he whispered back, half hoping it was.
A sharp laugh, dark as the liquor between them. Katsuki’s hand settled on the bar beside Izuku’s, close enough that their pinkies nearly brushed. “Only if you get caught.” His gaze dropped to Izuku’s mouth, deliberate, before flicking back up. “And I don’t.”
The bartender chose that moment to clear his throat, setting down a small dish of olives between them with trembling hands. Katsuki didn’t spare him a glance, but Izuku caught the way the man’s Adam’s apple bobbed before he scurried off. *Definitely fear*, Izuku noted, a thrill running down his spine.
Izuku exhaled shakily, suddenly aware of how dry his mouth was. The smoky aftertaste of the drink clung to his tongue, but it was nothing compared to the heat radiating off Katsuki’s body—close enough now that Izuku could count the faint scars across his knuckles. "You’re—" he started, then swallowed hard. "You’re not subtle."
Katsuki’s grin widened, predatory and unrepentant. "Wasn’t trying to be." His fingers twitched toward Izuku’s wrist again, stopping just shy of contact. "Subtlety’s for people who aren’t sure what they want." The unspoken challenge hung between them: *And you? Are you sure?*
Izuku’s pulse thundered in his ears. He knew what this was—knew he should push his stool back, walk away before the gravitational pull of this man dragged him under. But then Katsuki’s hand shifted, his pinky brushing Izuku’s in a whisper of contact, and the thought of leaving evaporated like mist.
The bartender reappeared, his gaze darting nervously between them. "Another round, sir?" he asked Katsuki, voice hushed.
Katsuki didn’t even glance at the bartender, his focus locked on Izuku like a predator savoring the hesitation of its prey. "No." he said, the word sharp enough to make the bartender flinch. "We’re done here." The dismissal was absolute, and the man vanished faster than a shadow under floodlights. Katsuki’s attention never wavered. "You’re thinking too loud." he murmured, his thumb finally—finally—dragging over Izuku’s knuckles. The touch was electric, searing through Izuku’s veins like live wire. "Tell me to fuck off, or don’t. But quit stalling."
Izuku’s breath hitched. The rational part of his brain screamed at him to leave—to find Shindo, to salvage whatever scraps of their relationship might still exist. But Shindo’s laughter echoed in his memory, dismissive and cold, and suddenly the ache in his chest twisted into something hotter, angrier. "What if I don’t know what I want?" he admitted, the words torn from him like a confession.
Katsuki’s grin was a slash of white in the dim light. "Then let me decide for you." He stood abruptly, his grip sliding from Izuku’s hand to his wrist, tugging him up with effortless strength. Izuku stumbled, his knees wobbling from the liquor or the proximity—he wasn’t sure which. Katsuki’s free hand steadied him, palm burning through the thin fabric of Izuku’s shirt. "You’re coming with me." he said, and it wasn’t a question.
Izuku should’ve resisted. Should’ve planted his feet and demanded answers. But the weight of Katsuki’s gaze—the promise in it—left him breathless. "Why?" he managed, even as he let himself be guided away from the bar, toward a secluded elevator at the back of the casino.
The elevator doors slid shut with a hushed *click*, sealing them in a mirrored box that smelled like leather and something faintly metallic—gun oil, Izuku realized belatedly, his stomach swooping. Katsuki hadn’t released his wrist, his grip firm but not painful, as he punched the button for the penthouse with his free hand. The elevator lurched upward, and Izuku’s reflection stared back at him, wide-eyed and flushed, lips slightly parted. He looked like a man on the edge of a cliff, toes curling over empty air.
Katsuki’s thumb stroked the delicate bones of Izuku’s wrist, the motion absent, proprietary. “Still time to change your mind.” he murmured, though the way his fingers tightened suggested he’d drag Izuku kicking and screaming before he’d actually let him leave.
The elevator dinged softly, doors opening onto a dimly lit foyer lined with abstract art that probably cost more than Izuku’s annual salary. Katsuki didn’t pause, steering him past a sleek marble countertop strewn with—were those *bullets*?—and toward a set of double doors. Izuku’s pulse hammered wildly, his skin prickling with the awareness that he was walking into the lion’s den.
The suite beyond was all low lighting and sharp angles, floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the glittering Vegas skyline. Katsuki finally released him, shrugging out of his tuxedo jacket with practiced ease before tossing it over the back of a leather sofa. The tattoos Izuku had glimpsed earlier wrapped around both arms now, intricate ink that told stories of violence and power.
The suite smelled like leather and something darker—cologne mixed with the faint, metallic tang of gunpowder. Izuku’s throat went dry as Katsuki prowled toward the wet bar, the muscles in his back shifting under his dress shirt as he poured two glasses of something amber and expensive. He didn’t ask what Izuku wanted. He already knew.
Izuku hovered near the doorway, suddenly hyper-aware of how out of place he looked—rumpled shirt, too-tight grip on his own wrists, like he was holding himself together. Katsuki turned, holding out a glass, and the way the low light caught his ruby eyes made Izuku’s knees weak. "You gonna stand there all night?" he drawled, voice rough. "Or you gonna tell me why you’re really here?"
Izuku’s fingers twitched around the glass when he took it, the condensation cool against his skin. "I—" He swallowed hard, the lie dissolving on his tongue. "I don’t know."
Katsuki smirked, sipping his drink as he closed the distance between them. "Bullshit." He tapped Izuku’s glass with his own, the crystal *clinking* softly. "You’re here because you’re tired of being someone’s second choice." His gaze burned, unrelenting. "Aren’t you?"
Izuku’s breath stuttered. The accusation—the truth of it—lodged in his chest like a blade. His fingers tightened around the glass until his knuckles ached. "You don’t know anything about me." he whispered, but the words lacked conviction.
Katsuki’s laugh was a low, dangerous rumble. He stepped closer, his cologne wrapping around Izuku like a claim. "I know enough." His fingers brushed Izuku’s chin, tilting his face up with startling gentleness. "You’ve got fire in you, but that bastard spent months smothering it." His thumb traced Izuku’s lower lip, the touch searing. "Let me fucking stoke it back to life."
The glass slipped from Izuku’s fingers, hitting the plush carpet with a dull *thud*. He didn’t care. The room spun—from the whiskey or Katsuki’s proximity, he couldn’t tell—but when Katsuki’s mouth crashed into his, all coherent thought shattered.
It wasn’t gentle. Katsuki kissed like he fought—all teeth and dominance, his hands gripping Izuku’s hips hard enough to bruise. Izuku gasped into it, his fingers scrambling for purchase on Katsuki’s shoulders, the silk of his shirt slipping under his grasp. The taste of him was dark, addictive, like expensive bourbon and something inherently Katsuki.
The kiss was a wildfire—untamed and consuming, scorching through every rational thought Izuku had left. Katsuki’s hands slid from his hips to his waist, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt like he wanted to tear it away entirely. Izuku arched into him, his back hitting the wall with a soft *thud*, the impact jolting through his spine. Katsuki didn’t let up, his mouth moving to Izuku’s throat, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.
“You taste like bad decisions.” Katsuki growled against his pulse point, the words vibrating through Izuku’s skin.
Izuku laughed breathlessly, his fingers tangling in Katsuki’s hair. “Says the man who dragged me to his penthouse.”
Katsuki pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, his crimson eyes dark with something primal. “Dragged?” He scoffed, thumb brushing Izuku’s swollen lower lip. “You followed like a goddamn puppy.”
Izuku’s breath hitched as Katsuki’s thumb pressed harder against his lip, the rough pad catching slightly on the damp skin. "Maybe I did." he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. The confession hung between them, raw and unguarded. He should’ve felt ashamed—should’ve recoiled at the comparison—but something about Katsuki’s unapologetic intensity made the heat in his stomach coil tighter. "Does that make you the master?"
Katsuki’s grin was feral, his fingers tightening in Izuku’s hair just shy of painful. "If you want it to." His free hand slid down Izuku’s side, fingertips skating over the hem of his shirt before dipping beneath it. The contact seared like a brand against Izuku’s skin. "But you don’t strike me as the type to kneel." His lips brushed Izuku’s ear, breath hot. "Not unless I make you."
Izuku shuddered, his nails digging into Katsuki’s shoulders through the thin fabric of his dress shirt. He wanted to protest—to prove he wasn’t some pliable plaything—but the way Katsuki’s teeth grazed his earlobe short-circuited his thoughts. "You—" He gasped as Katsuki’s knee nudged between his thighs, the pressure deliberate. "You don’t know what I am."
Katsuki laughed, the sound low and rich against Izuku’s throat. "I know exactly what you are." His palm flattened against Izuku’s stomach, pushing his shirt up to reveal the taut planes of his abdomen. "A fucking disaster." His fingers traced the dip of Izuku’s hipbone, possessive. "And mine now."
The words *mine now* reverberated through Izuku’s bones, hotter than the whiskey lingering in his veins. He should’ve bristled at the possessiveness—should’ve shoved Katsuki away and stormed out like the self-respecting man he *thought* he was. But when Katsuki’s mouth crashed into his again, all protests dissolved into a muffled gasp.
Katsuki didn’t kiss like Shindo, who treated affection like a chore. This was hunger—claiming, consuming—his teeth nipping at Izuku’s lower lip before soothing the sting with his tongue. Izuku’s knees buckled, his back sliding down the wall until Katsuki’s grip on his hips yanked him upright. "Stay." Katsuki growled against his mouth, the command fraying Izuku’s nerves like live wires.
Izuku’s fingers found the buttons of Katsuki’s shirt, fumbling in his haste. The first one popped off entirely, clattering somewhere into the abyss of the penthouse. Katsuki didn’t flinch. He laughed, the sound dark with approval as he tore the shirt open himself, buttons scattering like bullets. The tattoos Izuku had glimpsed earlier sprawled across Katsuki’s chest—a dragon coiled around his ribs, its fangs bared over his heart.
Izuku’s breath hitched. "You’re—"
"—dangerous." Izuku finished, his fingertips hovering over the inked dragon as if it might bite. The dragon's tail curled around Katsuki's ribs, disappearing beneath the waistband of his slacks, and Izuku swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry.
Katsuki caught his wrist, pressing Izuku’s palm flat against the dragon’s snarling maw. "Damn right." he murmured, his heartbeat thudding steady and strong beneath Izuku’s touch. "Problem?"
Izuku’s pulse stuttered. He should’ve been terrified—should’ve recoiled from the raw power thrumming under Katsuki’s skin—but the heat pooling low in his gut betrayed him. "Not yet." he breathed, and the smirk Katsuki gave him in return was downright lethal.
The hand still tangled in Izuku’s hair tightened, tilting his head back until their eyes locked. Katsuki’s gaze burned, crimson and unrelenting. "Good." His free hand slid down Izuku’s spine, fingers splaying possessively over the small of his back. "Because I don’t share."
Izuku’s breath caught as Katsuki’s fingers traced the waistband of his jeans, the touch deliberate. The dragon’s ink seemed to ripple under Katsuki’s skin when he shifted, the movement predatory. “You’re thinking again.” Katsuki murmured, his thumb hooking under Izuku’s belt loop to tug him closer. “Stop it.”
The command should’ve rankled, but Izuku’s body obeyed before his mind could protest. His hips pressed flush against Katsuki’s, the heat between them undeniable. “Hard not to.” he admitted, fingers skimming the scars littering Katsuki’s collarbone. “You’re... a lot.”
Katsuki’s grin was sharp, his teeth glinting in the low light. “Yeah?” He leaned in, his lips brushing Izuku’s earlobe. “Wait till you see what else I can do.” The promise in his voice sent a shiver down Izuku’s spine, his grip on Katsuki’s shoulders tightening.
The penthouse was silent save for their ragged breaths, the city’s neon glow painting Katsuki’s skin in streaks of gold and crimson. Izuku’s shirt was rucked up to his ribs, Katsuki’s palm splayed across his stomach like a brand. “Still time to walk away.” Katsuki murmured, though his grip contradicted the words.
Izuku’s laugh was breathless, unsteady. “Liar.” His fingers curled into Katsuki’s hair, tugging just hard enough to make the man’s nostrils flare. “You’d never let me leave now.”
Katsuki’s answering grin was all teeth. “Fucking right.” He crushed their mouths together again, swallowing Izuku’s gasp as his hands slid lower, cupping the curve of Izuku’s ass through his jeans. The fabric was too tight, the friction unbearable, and Izuku arched into him with a broken noise.
The sound seemed to unravel Katsuki’s last shred of restraint. He spun them, shoving Izuku backward until his knees hit the edge of the massive bed. Izuku barely had time to register the plush comforter before Katsuki’s weight followed him down, caging him between muscular thighs. The dragon tattoo stretched with the movement, its fangs grazing Katsuki’s collarbone as he loomed over Izuku, breathing hard.
“Last chance.” Katsuki growled, though his hands were already tearing at Izuku’s belt. The leather slid free with a sharp *whisk*, and Izuku’s hips jerked upward instinctively, seeking contact.
Izuku’s gasp turned into a moan as Katsuki’s palm pressed against him through the thin fabric of his briefs, the heat searing even through the barrier. His hips arched off the bed involuntarily, chasing the pressure, but Katsuki pinned him down with a firm grip on his thigh. “Stay.” he commanded, his voice rough with restraint. The single word sent a shudder through Izuku’s body—part defiance, part thrill.
Katsuki’s fingers hooked into the waistband of Izuku’s jeans, yanking them down in one sharp motion. The cool air hit Izuku’s overheated skin, but Katsuki’s gaze was hotter, raking over him like he was mapping out every inch. Izuku squirmed under the scrutiny, his pulse hammering where Katsuki’s thumb pressed against the inside of his thigh. “Fuck.” Katsuki muttered, his voice thick. “Look at you.” His fingers traced the sensitive skin there, feather-light, before digging in abruptly, leaving marks that would bloom by morning.
Izuku’s breath hitched, his fingers twisting in the sheets. He wanted to touch—wanted to scrape his nails down Katsuki’s chest and see if the dragon would snarl—but Katsuki caught his wrist, pinning it above his head with effortless strength. “Ah-ah.” he tutted, his breath hot against Izuku’s jaw. “You don’t get to move until I say so.” His free hand slid up Izuku’s torso, pausing to thumb at a nipple until Izuku gasped, his back arching off the bed.
Katsuki smirked, pleased with the reaction, and dipped his head to bite at the junction of Izuku’s neck and shoulder. The sharp sting melted into a throbbing ache, and Izuku’s toes curled, his hips lifting in silent plea. Katsuki ignored it, his mouth moving lower, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down Izuku’s sternum. He paused at the dip of Izuku’s navel, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt-slick skin there. Izuku whimpered, his fingers flexing uselessly in Katsuki’s grip.
Katsuki’s breath ghosted over Izuku’s hipbone, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just above his briefs. Izuku jerked, a whine catching in his throat as Katsuki’s grip tightened around his wrist. "Fuck—Katsuki—" The name spilled out ragged and desperate, his hips lifting off the bed only for Katsuki to shove him back down with a growl.
"Told you not to move." Katsuki murmured, the words vibrating against Izuku’s skin. His free hand curled around the waistband of Izuku’s briefs, dragging them down agonizingly slow. The cool air hit Izuku’s flushed skin, but Katsuki’s gaze was hotter—hungry, predatory—as he took him in. "Pretty." he mused, thumb brushing the tip, smearing the wetness there. Izuku’s breath stuttered, his thighs trembling under the teasing touch.
Katsuki’s tongue flicked out, tracing a slow, torturous path up Izuku’s length before swallowing him down in one smooth motion. Izuku cried out, his back arching off the bed, but Katsuki’s grip on his wrist held firm, keeping him pinned. The heat of Katsuki’s mouth was overwhelming, his tongue curling around Izuku in a way that left him gasping, his free hand fisting in Katsuki’s hair.
Katsuki hummed around him, the vibration shooting straight to Izuku’s core. His hips twitched, desperate for more friction, but Katsuki pulled back just enough to smirk up at him, lips slick and swollen. "Patience." he chided, nipping at Izuku’s inner thigh before diving back in, his pace relentless.
Izuku’s breath came in ragged gasps, his fingers twisting tighter in Katsuki’s hair as the man hollowed his cheeks around him. Every flick of Katsuki’s tongue sent sparks shooting up his spine, his thighs trembling with the effort to stay still. Katsuki’s grip on his wrist was ironclad, the bite of his fingers a constant reminder—*you don’t move unless I let you*.
When Katsuki pulled off with a wet *pop*, Izuku nearly sobbed at the loss. Katsuki’s smirk was wicked, his lips glistening as he wiped them with the back of his hand. “Like that, huh?” he murmured, his free hand trailing down Izuku’s thigh, nails scraping lightly. Izuku shuddered, his hips jerking involuntarily—only for Katsuki to pin him down again with a growl. “I said stay still.”
Izuku whimpered, his chest heaving. “You’re—you’re torturing me.”
Katsuki’s laugh was dark, his thumb brushing over Izuku’s lower lip. “And you love it.” Before Izuku could retort, Katsuki surged up, capturing his mouth in a searing kiss. The taste of himself on Katsuki’s tongue was dizzying, and Izuku arched into him, his trapped wrist straining against Katsuki’s hold.
Katsuki's grip on Izuku's wrist loosened just enough to thread their fingers together, pinning their joined hands against the mattress as his other hand slid down Izuku's trembling thigh. The touch was molten, branding Izuku's skin with every possessive stroke. "Tell me what you want." Katsuki growled against his mouth, though the hunger in his eyes said he already knew—already *owned* every ragged breath spilling from Izuku's lips.
Izuku's hips lifted involuntarily, chasing friction, but Katsuki's knee pressed between his thighs, denying him. "You—" Izuku choked out, his free hand scrabbling at Katsuki's bare shoulder. "You know what I—"
The words dissolved into a gasp as Katsuki's teeth sank into his collarbone, the sharp sting blooming into heat. "Say it." Katsuki demanded, his palm sliding up Izuku's inner thigh, fingers brushing but never quite touching where Izuku ached most. The teasing proximity was torture, Katsuki's smirk evident against Izuku's throat.
"Fuck! Please..." Izuku whined, arching into Katsuki's touch like a man starved. The admission tore from him, raw and desperate, and Katsuki's answering groan vibrated through Izuku's chest.
Katsuki’s hand finally—finally—wrapped around him, his grip rough and perfect all at once. Izuku’s back arched off the bed, a broken moan tearing from his throat as Katsuki stroked him with agonizing slowness. “That’s it.” Katsuki murmured, his breath hot against Izuku’s ear. “Let me hear you.” His thumb swiped over the head, smearing pre-come down his length, and Izuku’s hips jerked uncontrollably, his fingers tightening around Katsuki’s.
“Faster—” Izuku gasped, but Katsuki just chuckled, his pace deliberately unhurried.
“Nah.” he drawled, dragging his lips down Izuku’s throat. “You don’t get to rush this.” His teeth grazed Izuku’s pulse point, sharp enough to make him whimper. “Not when you look this fucking pretty falling apart.”
Izuku’s nails dug into Katsuki’s shoulder, leaving half-moon crescents in their wake. He was trembling now, every nerve alight with need, his thighs quivering where they bracketed Katsuki’s hips. “Katsuki—” His voice cracked, the name a plea and a curse all at once.
Katsuki’s grin was all sharp edges as he leaned down, his breath hot against Izuku’s ear. “That’s it.” he murmured, fingers tightening around Izuku’s wrist. “Say my name like you mean it.” His other hand twisted just *so*, thumb pressing into the sensitive spot beneath the head, and Izuku’s vision whited out for a heartbeat, a ragged cry tearing from his throat.
“Fuck— Katsuki—” Izuku gasped, his back arching off the bed as Katsuki’s grip turned punishing, stroking him with a rhythm that left no room for thought. Every drag of calloused fingers sent lightning crackling up his spine, his thighs shaking with the effort to keep still under Katsuki’s commanding hold.
Katsuki watched him with rapt attention, crimson eyes dark with hunger. “Look at you.” he growled, voice rough as gravel. “Already fucking wrecked.” His thumb swiped over the tip again, smearing wetness down his length, and Izuku whimpered, his hips jerking uncontrollably.
“I—I can’t—” Izuku choked out, his fingers scrambling for purchase on Katsuki’s biceps. The coil in his stomach tightened unbearably, pleasure cresting like a wave about to break.
Katsuki’s free hand clamped over Izuku’s mouth before his climax could hit, muffling the broken noise that tore from his throat. “Not yet.” he growled, his grip tightening at the base of Izuku’s length, stalling him mercilessly. Izuku’s hips bucked wildly, his scream dissolving into a ragged whimper against Katsuki’s palm. The denial was agony—white-hot and dizzying—his entire body trembling with the effort to obey.
Katsuki’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he leaned down, his breath scorching against Izuku’s ear. “Good.” he murmured, releasing his grip just enough to let Izuku gasp for air. “You take orders so fucking well.” His fingers resumed their torturous pace, slower now, deliberate—each stroke a calculated tease that had Izuku’s toes curling into the sheets.
Izuku’s vision blurred at the edges, his chest heaving. “Please—” The word was raw, stripped bare, and Katsuki’s pupils dilated at the sound, his thumb pressing harder against the vein pulsing beneath Izuku’s skin.
“Please what?” Katsuki goaded, his voice dripping with mock innocence. His free hand slid down Izuku’s stomach, fingertips skirting the crease of his thigh, never quite touching where he needed most. The anticipation was maddening, every nerve in Izuku’s body alight with frustrated want.
Izuku's hips jerked helplessly, his entire body taut as a bowstring. "Please— Let me—" The words shattered into a gasp as Katsuki's teeth grazed his earlobe, sharp enough to sting.
Katsuki chuckled, low and rough, his fingers still moving with infuriating restraint. "Not until you say it right." he murmured, his thumb circling the head of Izuku’s cock in slow, deliberate strokes. The tease was unbearable, each touch skirting the edge of pleasure without letting him tip over.
Izuku’s fingers clawed at the sheets, his chest heaving. "Fuck— Please let me come." he begged, the admission ripped from him like a confession.
Katsuki’s grin was all teeth. "There it is." His grip tightened, his strokes turning relentless, and Izuku arched off the bed with a cry, stars exploding behind his eyelids as pleasure tore through him. Katsuki’s name spilled from his lips like a prayer, over and over, until his voice cracked.
Katsuki watched, rapt, as Izuku unraveled beneath him—every twitch, every gasp, every shudder cataloged like a prize. He didn’t ease up, stroking Izuku through the aftershocks until his hips jerked weakly, oversensitive. Only then did he relent, pressing a kiss to the inside of Izuku’s thigh, smug. “Good.” he murmured, the word thick with satisfaction.
Izuku’s chest heaved, his limbs liquid and boneless. The room spun—partly from the whiskey, mostly from Katsuki—and he blinked up at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath. Katsuki’s weight shifted beside him, the mattress dipping as he reached for something on the nightstand. The crinkle of foil made Izuku’s pulse stutter.
He turned his head just as Katsuki tore the packet open with his teeth, rolling the condom on with practiced ease. The sight of him—flushed, disheveled, *hungry*—sent a fresh wave of heat through Izuku’s veins.
“Still with me?” Katsuki asked, palm sliding up Izuku’s thigh.
Izuku's breath hitched as Katsuki's fingers traced the inside of his thigh, the touch feather-light yet searing. "Barely." he admitted, voice wrecked. His body still trembled from release, oversensitive and pliant beneath Katsuki's commanding touch. The condom wrapper crinkled between them—a stark reminder of what came next—and Izuku's pulse stuttered when Katsuki slicked two fingers with lube, the sound obscenely loud in the quiet suite.
Katsuki's smirk was predatory as he pressed a kiss to Izuku's knee. "Gonna make sure you feel this tomorrow." he murmured, his breath hot against Izuku's skin. The first finger breached him without warning, and Izuku gasped, back arching off the mattress as the stretch burned. Katsuki didn't pause, working him open with ruthless efficiency, his gaze locked on Izuku's face as he cataloged every twitch, every bitten-off whimper.
"Fuck—slow down—" Izuku choked out, his nails digging into Katsuki's forearm. The stretch was relentless, Katsuki's fingers crooked just *so*, and Izuku's vision whited out when they brushed that spot inside him. Pleasure crackled up his spine, molten and electric, and Katsuki's grin turned feral.
"Knew you'd be tight." Katsuki growled, adding a second finger despite Izuku's broken noise of protest. His free hand pinned Izuku's hip to the bed, holding him still as he scissored his fingers, stretching him with deliberate precision. "But you take it so fucking well." The praise burned hotter than the stretch, and Izuku's thighs trembled, his cock twitching against his stomach despite his earlier release.
Katsuki’s fingers twisted deeper, curling mercilessly against that sweet spot, and Izuku’s spine arched off the bed with a shattered cry. His thighs trembled, torn between clamping shut and spreading wider—*take more, give everything*—but Katsuki’s grip on his hip was ironclad, denying him even that small rebellion. "Look at you." Katsuki rasped, his voice rougher than gravel. "Already fucking ruined." He scissored his fingers wider, the burn edged with just enough pleasure to make Izuku’s toes curl. "And I haven’t even fucked you yet."
Izuku’s breath hitched, his fingers scrabbling at the sheets. The stretch bordered on painful, but the fire in Katsuki’s eyes—the *hunger*—made his stomach clench with want. "S’too much..." he slurred, but his hips rocked down onto Katsuki’s fingers anyway, betraying him entirely.
Katsuki’s laugh was dark, thumb rubbing circles into Izuku’s hipbone. "Liar." He crooked his fingers again, wrenching a gasp from Izuku’s throat. "You’d take my cock right now if I let you." His free hand slid up Izuku’s torso, fingers brushing a peaked nipple. "Wouldn’t you?"
Izuku’s nod was frantic, his back bowing when Katsuki pinched the bud between thumb and forefinger. The dual sensation—stretched full *there*, sharp pleasure *here*—short-circuited his thoughts. "Yes!"
Katsuki’s fingers withdrew with a slick sound, leaving Izuku clenching around nothing, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Before he could protest, Katsuki flipped him onto his stomach with effortless strength, one broad hand pressing between his shoulder blades to keep him down. The sheets were cool against Izuku’s flushed skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating off Katsuki’s body as he draped himself over him, teeth scraping the nape of his neck.
"Stay." Katsuki growled, the command vibrating through Izuku’s bones. The blunt head of Katsuki’s cock pressed against him, a taunting promise, and Izuku whimpered, fingers twisting in the sheets. Katsuki’s hand slid down his spine, possessive and rough, before gripping his hip hard enough to bruise. "And breathe."
The first thrust was merciless—a single, punishing stroke that buried Katsuki to the hilt in one smooth motion. Izuku cried out, his back arching as the stretch burned, but Katsuki didn’t pause, didn’t give him a second to adjust. He pulled out almost entirely before slamming back in, setting a relentless pace that left Izuku’s vision fracturing at the edges.
"Fuck— Fuck!—" Izuku gasped, his voice cracking as Katsuki’s hips snapped forward again, hitting *just right*. Pleasure sparked like live wires under his skin, his cock dripping untouched between his thighs. Katsuki’s breath was hot against his ear, his rhythm unyielding, each thrust jolting Izuku up the bed until his knees scrambled for purchase.
Izuku's fingers twisted in the sheets, knuckles white as Katsuki's rhythm grew rougher, each thrust driving him higher. The friction was unbearable—too much, not enough—his body singing with every snap of Katsuki's hips. "M-more—" he gasped, the plea ragged and broken against the pillows. Katsuki's answering growl vibrated through his spine, fingers digging bruises into Izuku's hips as he angled deeper, hitting *that spot* with ruthless precision.
Izuku's vision whited out, a scream tearing from his throat as pleasure crackled through him like lightning. Katsuki didn't relent, his pace turning jagged, his breath hot and uneven against Izuku's shoulder. "That's it." he snarled, teeth scraping Izuku's nape. "Take it." The command unraveled Izuku completely, his body clamping down around Katsuki as the coil in his stomach snapped.
Katsuki's rhythm faltered, his hips stuttering as Izuku clenched around him. "Fuck—Izuku—" His voice was raw, a broken thing as he buried himself deep, his release hitting hard enough to make his fingers tremble against Izuku's skin.
For a heartbeat, the only sound was their ragged breathing, Katsuki's weight pressing Izuku into the mattress. Then—slowly—Katsuki pulled out, his touch uncharacteristically gentle as he rolled Izuku onto his back. Izuku's limbs were liquid, his chest heaving as Katsuki's thumb brushed his cheekbone, wiping away a tear Izuku hadn't realized had fallen.
The silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of what they’d just done. Katsuki’s fingers lingered on Izuku’s cheek, his touch unexpectedly tender against the heat of his skin. Izuku blinked up at him, his thoughts sluggish, his body still thrumming with aftershocks. Katsuki’s crimson eyes were darker now, the usual sharpness softened by something Izuku couldn’t name—something that made his chest ache.
“You’re staring.” Katsuki murmured, his voice rough but quieter than before. His thumb traced the curve of Izuku’s cheekbone again, almost absently, as if he couldn’t stop touching him.
Izuku swallowed, his throat dry. “You’re… hard to look away from.” The admission slipped out before he could stop it, raw and honest. Katsuki’s lips twitched, something like satisfaction flickering in his gaze before he leaned down, pressing a kiss to Izuku’s forehead—a gesture so startlingly gentle that Izuku’s breath caught.
Katsuki pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “Don’t get used to it.” he warned, but there was no bite to the words, just a quiet intensity that sent warmth pooling in Izuku’s stomach.
The afterglow clung to Izuku like a second skin, his limbs heavy with exhaustion, his mind hazy with the remnants of pleasure. Katsuki’s weight shifted beside him, the mattress dipping as he reached for the nightstand. The clink of glass, the splash of liquid—Izuku turned his head just in time to see Katsuki down a shot of amber whiskey, his throat working as he swallowed.
“Thirsty?” Katsuki rasped, offering the glass. Izuku shook his head, but Katsuki ignored him, pressing the cool rim to his lips. “Drink.”
The whiskey burned going down, but the warmth that followed was welcome. Izuku coughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as Katsuki watched, amused. “Lightweight.” he teased, taking the glass back and setting it aside.
Izuku’s laugh was breathless. “Says the guy who *literally* just fucked me into the mattress.”
Katsuki’s smirk curled wider at that, fingers tangling in Izuku’s sweat-damp curls as he dragged him closer. “And you’re still fucking talking.” he murmured, voice thick with something between annoyance and admiration. His thumb brushed Izuku’s lower lip, smearing the taste of whiskey between them. “Should’ve worked you harder.”
Izuku’s breath hitched, but before he could retort, his phone buzzed violently on the nightstand—once, twice, a third time with insistent urgency. The sound shattered the haze between them, Katsuki’s expression hardening as he snatched it up. Izuku caught a glimpse of the screen—*Unread Messages: 23*—before Katsuki silenced it with a growl, tossing it face down onto the rumpled sheets.
“Ignore it.” Izuku murmured, fingers tracing the dragon inked over Katsuki’s ribs. The skin was warm under his touch, the tattoo flexing with every controlled breath Katsuki took.
Katsuki’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t pull away. “Tch. Like I need you to tell me how to do my job.” The words lacked their usual bite, his gaze lingering on Izuku’s mouth instead of the phone.
This time, Katsuki’s phone buzzed—a persistent, angry vibration that Katsuki silenced with a snarl, tossing it onto the dresser across the room. It hit the wood with a sharp *crack*, and Izuku flinched, but Katsuki was already crowding him back against the pillows, his palm pressing flat over Izuku’s racing heart. "Eyes on me." he ordered, voice low.
Izuku exhaled shakily, fingers curling into Katsuki’s biceps. "They’re not going to stop calling." he murmured, though he wasn’t sure if he meant Shindo’s frantic texts or whatever underworld business Katsuki was ignoring. The thought of Shindo sent a flicker of guilt through him—swiftly smothered by the way Katsuki’s thumb stroked the hollow of his throat.
Katsuki’s smirk was razor-edged. "Let them choke." He leaned down, his breath hot against Izuku’s jaw. "You’re mine tonight. No take-backs." The possessiveness in his tone shouldn’t have thrilled Izuku as much as it did, but his traitorous pulse jumped under Katsuki’s fingers anyway.
A knock at the suite’s door shattered the moment—three sharp raps, followed by a muffled voice. "Boss."
Katsuki’s grip tightened on Izuku’s hip, his exhale sharp with irritation. “Fucking timing.” he muttered against Izuku’s throat before pulling away, the warmth of his body leaving an immediate chill in its wake. Izuku shivered, watching as Katsuki snatched a robe from the floor, tying it haphazardly around his waist without bothering to conceal the fresh bite marks raking down his chest.
“Stay.” Katsuki ordered, though the command was softer now—almost protective—as he palmed a pistol from the nightstand and tucked it into the robe’s sash. Izuku nodded, pulling the tangled sheets around himself as Katsuki stalked toward the door, his bare feet silent on the marble floor.
The door swung open to reveal a wiry man in a tailored suit, his forehead slick with sweat. “Boss, the Vegas guys are—” His words cut off abruptly as his gaze flickered past Katsuki to where Izuku lay rumpled in the bed. Katsuki stepped forward, blocking his view with a growl.
“Out.” Katsuki snapped, shoving the man into the hallway before following and slamming the door behind them. The argument that followed was muffled but violent—Katsuki’s voice a lethal hiss, the other man’s replies increasingly frantic.
The door clicked shut behind Katsuki, sealing Izuku in suffocating silence. His pulse hammered in his throat, fingers twisting in the sheets as muffled voices rose and fell beyond the suite.
Izuku pushed himself up, wincing at the ache in his hips, and grabbed Katsuki’s discarded shirt from the floor. The black silk smelled like gunpowder and spice, clinging to his overheated skin as he crept toward the door.
Izuku was tempted to press his ear against the door but fought against it. With a sigh, he went back and sat on the bed once more, waiting for Katsuki to come back.
The suite door burst open again with a force that made Izuku jump back—but Katsuki was already striding toward the closet, yanking out a fresh shirt and holster with single-minded focus. His movements were sharp, lethal efficiency as he dressed, every button done with deliberate precision while Izuku stood frozen by the bed, clutching the silk shirt around himself.
"You're leaving?" Izuku's voice cracked on the question, betraying him entirely.
Katsuki paused mid-motion, his fingers tightening around the holster strap before he turned. The neon glow from the window painted his face in harsh reds and blues, sharpening the angles of his jaw into something unforgiving. "Business." he bit out, but his gaze flickered over Izuku—rumpled, marked, his—and something in his expression tightened.
“Stay here. Don’t answer the door. Don’t move.”
Izuku’s fingers tightened around the shirt. “What are you going to do?”
Katsuki’s grin was all teeth, dangerous and bright. “Cleaning some fucking trash.” He stepped closer, crowding Izuku against the dresser, one hand gripping his hip possessively. “But first—” His mouth crashed down on Izuku’s, a kiss that tasted like whiskey and violence, branding him all over again. When he pulled back, Izuku’s lips were swollen, his breath ragged. “Stay put.”
“Don’t die...” Izuku mumbled, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them. Katsuki stopped half-way to the door, looking back at Izuku with an unreadable expression before the smirk was back into place.
“Ain’t gonna let some scumbags get the better of me.” he assured before the door closed with a *thud* behind him.
Izuku let out a breath, heart feeling unusually tight in his chest. He laid down on the bed, eyes staring at the ceiling. Then he found his phone. He didn’t bother to read any of the messages Shindo sent him. He just sent his own: ‘We’re done. Don’t bother me anymore.’
Then he blocked his number and left the phone on top of the night table. Now he just had to wait. Wait for Katsuki to come back. Something he was sure, would happen. With that thought, his eyelids closed. Sleep claiming him.
By the time the sun was raising, warm arms were cradling him in a tight hug. Izuku let out a satisfied hum in his sleep while borrowing deeper into the nice embrace.
...... The End ......