Chapter Text
cover by vmiintae
Izuku feels sick as he walks home from the meeting where they confirmed that no one had any idea what had happened to Todoroki Shouto, and Endeavor had virtually raged in helplessness. He’s been missing for over a year, grabbed, they were sure, by Kurogiri, but no villain was saying anything about what happened to him, and no one had seen him since. Izuku had only been there because he was All Might's successor.
It’s well past dark, not surprising considering how long they’d gone in circles, and he startles as he turns up the walkway to his home. Someone is laying across the path to his door, just outside the glow of the light.
Izuku runs up to the fallen figure, and as he does, he catches a sweet, alluring scent. He’s about to jump back but then he recognizes the hair spilling over the ground—purest white and deepest blood red.
“Todoroki-kun?” he asks, shocked, turning him over, forgetting about the sweet scent. Todoroki is in a beautiful—and heavy—wedding kimono, and when Izuku turns him over, he actually has to catch his breath.
He doesn’t remember Todoroki being so beautiful, and there is no other word for it. His skin glows like spun moonlight, the scar around his left eye has been softened so it’s barely discolored at all, and Izuku can’t help but brush a finger over it. The skin is perfectly soft to the touch, and Izuku finds himself entranced. There’s a red wing of color along the top lid of Todoroki’s eyes, and it’s a bright splash against the fresh-snow gleam of his skin. There’s the barest blush of red on his lips, and his lashes are long and dark where they rest on his cheeks. Izuku’s eyes keep being drawn back to the pale rose pink of the scar around his eye.
Todoroki’s eyebrows furrow, and his eyes open, the blue a bright cerulean, the once-brown eye now a burnished copper, both glowing as if backlit, and Izuku could sooner stop breathing than look away from those eyes. They blink, dazed, before focusing on Izuku.
“Midoriya?” he asks, and his voice shivers across Izuku like a physical caress, deeper than Izuku remembers, but soft. It resonates in Izuku’s chest as if finding a home there.
“Todoroki-kun, are you okay?” Izuku asks, trying to clear his head.
One of Todoroki’s hands raises and cups Izuku’s cheek, and he shudders at the slight coolness of his touch. The sweet scent, rich as honey, fills Izuku’s senses again, and he scoops Todoroki up in his arms. He’s not small, but Izuku has grown the last year, and Todoroki doesn’t seem to have. He seems somehow slighter in Izuku’s arms than he remembers, but it’s hard to tell with the heavy layers of the kimono around him.
“Let’s get you inside,” Izuku says, calling for his mother to open the door.
“Izuku, what—?” his mom says as she opens the door, but Izuku pushes past her.
“Mom—we need to call the Commission!”
Toshinori is the first to arrive, and he knows that something is wrong as soon as he sets foot in the house. There’s a sweet, alluring scent in the air that he swears he knows, and it is setting off warning bells in his head. He hasn’t quite placed it when he steps into Midoriya’s living room and sees Midoriya with what is undoubtedly Todoroki on his lap. Inko hovers in the background fretting.
Dressed in a rich blue kimono with beautiful maple leaves that could almost be flames decorating the robe—Toshinori realizes it’s a wedding kimono, given the length of the sleeves and the thickness of its weight—Young Todoroki is… breathtakingly beautiful, looking like some sort of snow maiden, his skin actually has a pearlescence, his eyes glow as if backlit, his legs are long and slim where they are bared through the fold of the kimono, as if it’s not wrapped tightly enough.
And suddenly Toshinori remembers where he knows that scent from. “Mistique,” he gasps, his stomach dropping to his feet.
Todoroki is stroking his Midoriya’s face and neck, and there’s no mistaking the intimacy in the touches. “Young Midoriya!” he shouts, since his successor has not even looked up at him.
Midoriya’s head turns toward Toshinori, but his eyes stay glued to Todoroki’s face until he has to tear them away to look up. “All Might-san?”
“What happened? How did you find him?”
“He was just… laying on the ground outside.” Todoroki leans up, nuzzling at the sensitive skin of Midoriya’s neck. Midoriya sighs and strokes a hand through the loose length of Young Todoroki’s hair.
Swallowing, Toshinori says, “Young Midoriya… I think you should put Young Todoroki down and come here.”
“No!” Midoriya says, sharp, fierce, almost furious, cuddling Todoroki closer, as if protecting him. Toshinori’s stomach sinks further.
“Young Midoriya,” Toshinori says, trying to put all the command he can in his voice when the front door opens.
“Shouto!” Endeavor calls, stepping in.
Todoroki turns in Midoriya’s lap, pressing closer to him, and Midoriya’s body language gets far more defensive, his face twisting into an angry mask as Todoroki hisses, showing off fangs.
Fortunately, Aizawa is with him. “Aizawa-kun—please—!”
Aizawa is in tune with him, and his eyes gleam as his quirk activates.
The anger eases from Midoriya’s face some but doesn’t completely fade.
“Midoriya,” Toshinori says again, sharp, trying not to sound desperate. “Come away from him.”
He begins to shift Todoroki aside, but he’s slow, as if his mind is fuzzy, and Toshinori has no doubt it is. Mistique disappeared more than twenty years ago, but Toshinori thinks he knows what happened to her now, and her quirk had been terrifying.
Before Midoriya can set Todoroki aside, he leans up and kisses Midoriya.
Watching it is like watching a car crash. “No!” he cries out.
Endeavor does more, moving forward and yanking his son from Midoriya’s grasp.
“Don’t touch his skin!” Toshinori warns.
“What are you doing? Where have you been?” Endeavor demands. Toshinori has seen Endeavor hide his fear behind bluster and anger for the past year, so he sees how afraid and confused he is, but Todoroki does not.
“Don’t touch me!” he hisses out, the disdain in his voice crawling over their skin like sharp claws, and it makes Toshinori realize that Endeavor had accidentally placed himself between Aizawa and his son. Todoroki wrenches his arm away, while Endeavor stares. Blood wells on his cheek from three invisible cuts. Thankfully, Endeavor wears gloves, and he lets Todoroki step away from him.
“Young Todoroki…” Toshinori starts, then flinches as those glowing eyes turn on him.
“I don’t care what you have to say,” he says, voice cold enough to settle into Toshinori’s bones.
Midoriya goes to put himself between Todoroki and them.
“Leave him alone,” he demands.
Toshinori is pained to his core, but he says, “Aizawa-kun—your friend—” he starts.
Aizawa is already on the phone. “I’m getting her,” he says. Toshinori is again relieved for how well his partner knows him.
“We should go,” Midoriya says, glaring at them.
“Midoriya, think,” Toshinori says, trying to remember what had worked once Mistique had her hooks in someone. “You have not seen your friend in over a year. Why are you kissing him? Why are you this protective?” One For All is not immune to this quirk, but with Aizawa erasing as much as he can, he might be able to get through to Midoriya.
Their eyes meet, and Midoriya shakes his head as if to clear it.
“Midoriya,” Todoroki says, and even with Aizawa trying to erase the quirk, its effect is still strong. His voice is like a siren’s call, beckoning Midoriya to look at him, and Midoriya cannot resist. “We should go,” Todoroki says.
“Yes,” Midoriya says, his daze seeming to clear.
“You can’t go, Midoriya. Todoroki has been missing for over a year. Don’t we need to get him looked over?” Toshinori tries.
“He needs to be at home,” Endeavor growls, and Toshinori has to stifle a sigh. Endeavor’s aggression is not going to be helpful here. Sure enough, it strengthens Midoriya’s resolve, and he glares.
“I can check him over,” he says.
“But a doctor—” Toshinori tries, only to be met with a literal growl.
“I’ll tear the arm off anyone who lays a hand on him!” he snarls. He sounds nothing like the Midoriya Toshinori knows.
They manage to stall until Midnight arrives and knocks them both out, but it’s a close thing.
“What has happened to him? What was that?” Endeavor demands, lifting his unconscious son into his arms with surprising tenderness.
“Whatever you do, don’t touch his bare skin,” Toshinori warns.
“You know this quirk,” Aizawa says.
Toshinori runs a hand through his hair. “I do,” he admits. “We need to keep them physically separated. Young Todoroki should be caged, and wherever he is should be airtight.”
He can feel Aizawa’s gaze on him. “You know why my quirk didn’t work.”
“Yes,” he admits. “Let’s get them secured first. We’re going to have to lock Midoriya up as well. He isn’t going to be happy when he wakes up.”
“What is wrong with him?” Endeavor demands, and Toshinori feels sick for him. On the screen, Todoroki is waking up, and he assesses his surroundings. Toshinori’s stomach sinks further when he sees how clinically Todoroki takes it in, how quickly he turns to find the camera.
Even with the camera and several floors between them, Todoroki is almost too beautiful to be real. He’d undoubtedly been attractive before, but attractive is not the word Toshinori would use now. He’s now ethereal, transcendently beautiful.
The anger in his eyes is sharp enough to cut.
This is not the determined young man that Toshinori remembers. This is someone who fueled by rage and someone who is looking to hurt as much as he’s been hurt. It’s like the look he had before he fought Midoriya in the School Festival nearly two years before, only it’s worse. Much worse.
Before there was some innocence, some kindness still. There is none now.
“What is wrong with him?” Endeavor repeats, sounding angrier. “That cell shouldn’t be able to hold him. He hasn’t used his fire or his ice!”
Toshinori exchanges a glance with Nezu, who knows that quirk better than Toshinori does.
“I don’t think he has them anymore,” Aizawa says.
Endeavor wheels on him, and Toshinori has to resist the urge to put himself between them. Aizawa can stand up to Endeavor.
“What do you mean?”
“All For One,” Nezu says. “He has the ability not only to steal quirks, but to give them. I’ve seen this quirk before—or part of it anyway.” In as much as it’s possible for his face, he looks grim.
Endeavor looks between them nervously, and Toshinori doesn’t blame him.
“Who was it?” Aizawa asks, never shy about getting to the point.
“Her hero name was Mistique,” Nezu says. “She had a seduction quirk. Anyone who touched her bare skin became… addicted to her.”
“So she was removed from school as a danger to herself and others?” Aizawa guesses.
“She was going to be, yes,” Nezu confirmed.
Aizawa has never pulled punch. “She went villain instead.”
Nezu nods. “We never heard from her again, though. I think we can conclude that at some point she met All For One and he took her quirk.”
“Why?” Endeavor roars. “Why give it to my son?”
“I think I have that answer,” Tsukauchi says, coming in holding a memory drive in his hand, an unusually blank look on his face.
“What is on it?”
“A message from All For One, for you and All Might-san,” Tsukauchi says. “He wanted to hurt you by taking your successor from you. I think Todoroki-kun may have been a victim of opportunity.”
“When did that get here?” Endeavor snaps.
“Before Midoriya-san called,” he says. “And I don’t think you want to see it.”
“It involves my son,” Endeavor says, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “I want to see it.”
“Respectfully, I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Tsukauchi replies, a shadow in his eyes that makes Toshinori wary. “And Mistique’s quirk isn’t the only one that was given to Todoroki-kun.”
“It is my son,” Endeavor snarls. “I want to see it.”
“Endeavor-san—”
“I’m not asking.”
Tsukauchi really does not want to show him, Toshinori can tell, and he wonders how bad it is.
“Endeavor-san, trust me… you don’t want to see your son like this.”
“My son,” Endeavor says. “My business.”
Toshinori glances at the monitor on Todoroki’s cell and sees that he’s growing agitated. In another cell, Midoriya is stirring as well.
“Only if you allow Eraser Head-san and All Might-san to see as well,” Tsukauchi says. “The message was for All Might.”
He doesn’t say why he wants Aizawa there, but Toshinori can guess. He wants an insurance policy in case Endeavor’s hellfire goes crazy.
It turns out to be a good call.
Tsukauchi takes them to a room where he can shut the door, then fires up a laptop.
“You need to stay calm. Tell me as soon as you want me to stop,” he says, very specifically addressing Endeavor.
“Play it,” Endeavor says.
Tsukauchi sighs, but he starts up the video, and Todoroki’s form shows up, naked on a gray cement floor. His hair is longer, though nowhere near as long as it is now. He’s shivering, sweating, and looks sick.
All For One’s voice begins to narrate. “Poor Shouto appears quite ill. Why is that? I assure you the temperature in the room is quite fine. Such a beautiful child, such an interesting and powerful quirk…”
Toshinori’s stomach churns at the almost loving way that All For One describes Todoroki. It’s covetous and sensual, and no one should be speaking of a child like that.
When All For One speaks again, his voice is much crueler. “Of course, he doesn’t have that interesting quirk anymore. But don’t worry, I gave him new ones…”
“Please…” Todoroki says on the screen, huddling in a tighter ball, clawing to his arms so hard that he’s drawing blood. “Please… make it stop… please…”
Even just through the video, Todoroki’s voice has some level of compulsion in it and Toshinori finds himself wanting to dive into the video and help him however he can.
“You might be experiencing one of them—a siren’s voice. So seductive, so hard to resist. Beware though, when he gets angry, that voice can cut.”
“I’ll do… please…”
The wounds in his arms are getting deeper, the blood running freer. Toshinori wants to look away but forces himself to watch. Todoroki had to live through this, watching it cannot be worse.
“I need…” Todoroki whines, voice rasping as if he’s parched, but there are no obvious signs of dehydration, at least no long-term signs.
All For One’s voice continues. “I found a young man with a curious quirk… one that fed on sexual energy, that needed it the way that normal people need food for sustenance. A real, live incubus, in a way. He thanked me profusely when I took his quirk.”
A door opens somewhere, and half a dozen large dogs are let in. Todoroki’s eyes go wide, the whites showing around the irises, and he pales, looking at the dogs in horror.
“N-no… Please, please, anything but that. Please—” He’s cut off as a dog blocks him, licking into his mouth. The dogs surround him moving from sniffing to licking quickly, two trying to nose into his lap while two start lapping at his bottom. One laps at the bleeding wounds on his arms, while the final keeps chasing Todoroki’s mouth as he tries to move away. He tries to swat at the dogs, kick out at them, trying to make them go away, crying out and continuing to plead, but the dogs are undeterred.
“There was another young woman whose skin contained pheromones that addicted people to her touch, made them need to touch her, willing to do anything if they could be allowed to touch her. She was relieved as well, when I took her quirk. It turns out… that allure doesn’t only work on humans.”
“Turn it off,” Toshinori says, knowing exactly where this is going as Todoroki keeps trying to kick the dogs away, but the dogs are all aroused, rubbing their lengths over Todoroki.
“Keep going,” Endeavor countermands.
“It gets worse,” Tsukauchi warns, sounding distressed. He is not the only one.
A dog clamps its large jaw over Todoroki’s throat, pinning him in place, and another monstrously large dog manages to find Todoroki’s entrance and seat itself.
Something changes in Todoroki at that, his eyes look like they glaze over, and instead of fighting off the dogs, he starts reaching for them. The dog with its jaw around Todoroki’s throat either realizes something has changed or is being controlled, because it releases him, instead licking into his mouth again. Todoroki reaches a bleeding wrist—where another dog had clamped down but has not released—and begins to stroke the large dog’s length, even as he rocks back onto the dog behind him.
“I had given him the option of many of my men to feed his need—a need that can only be filled by penetrative sex—but he refused them all, insisted he would sooner die.”
All For One’s laugh is vicious while on screen, Todoroki gets to his knees, the dog behind him following, snapping at another dog that tries to get closer. The dog that Todoroki is giving a hand job to puts its paws on Todoroki’s back, putting his considerable length in front of Todoroki’s face.
“He hadn’t been fucked in a week. He was, in effect, starving. Dogs are not people and their sexual energy is water to a starving man. It will keep him alive, but it will not sate him, will not make him full. And It will take a lot to make him feel full.”
On screen, Todoroki takes the dog’s length into his mouth.
“Because he’s been starving himself like the stupid bitch he is, once he’s exposed to it, he’s helpless. It’s a biological need. A biological need to be fucked like the hole he is,” All For One finishes, cackling.
Tsukauchi has looked away, though he keeps a hand on the mouse, probably so he can pause it immediately.
“That’s enough, Tsukauchi-kun,” Toshinori tells him. He was wrong—this may be worse. Seeing Todoroki like this, a victim to a quirk that was not his, literally mindless in his body’s desperation to feed a need he wasn’t born with. Two of the dogs begin to lick over Todoroki’s length, and Todoroki reaches out with one hand to start stroking another.
“Keep going,” Endeavor demands.
All For One starts talking again. “Just touching his bare skin is enough to addict someone to him. If it’s only a bare touch, one can recover from the addiction, though it will be like weaning a heroin addict… except it last for weeks for even a slight touch. I’ve seen the withdrawal kill men. And that’s just his skin. If you come into contact with any of his bodily fluids… well…”
Todoroki leaning up and kissing Midoriya with desperation replays in Toshinori’s mind.
On the screen, Todoroki whines and orgasms, the dogs raping him appearing to do the same, and the free dogs lean down to lap up his spend, then begin to hump him wherever they can, as if just touching him is ecstasy.
“Bodily fluids make the addiction permanent. These dogs went mad and killed themselves after three days of being unable to touch their beautiful Shouto. I’ve seen men do the same.”
All For One’s laugh crawls over Toshinori’s skin like it’s a physical thing, and it’s the final push. A wastebin appears in front of him in time for him to lose the contents of his stomach as the implication sinks in.
“Isn’t that wonderful, All Might? I left him for your successor! For the child who has One For All! Shouto will addict him because he is desperate to be protected, and no one will be able to protect him like your protégé! His once-friend. One For All will die with him!”
There’s a yelp, and when Toshinori glances over, one of the dogs has killed another to take its place violating Todoroki.
“What do you think of my beautiful incubus, All Might? What do you think of my masterpiece?”
Aizawa manages to neutralize Endeavor’s quirk before his hellfire can rage out of control, so Endeavor instead punches the laptop across the room, shattering it against the far wall.
Revulsion makes Toshinori dry heave, but he has nothing left to throw up.
“He didn’t address Endeavor at all,” Aizawa says as they get some fresh air on the roof.
“It’s not about Endeavor. I doubt he even realizes that Todoroki-kun is Endeavor’s son or even cares if he does,” Toshinori replies, stomach still twisting despite the clean night air.
“We need to go talk to him,” Aizawa points out. “Midoriya was getting restless.”
Toshinori doesn’t want to, but he knows Aizawa is right. “Let’s go,” he says before he can talk himself out of doing it.
Todoroki is clearly agitated when they get down to his cell. Even with the solid wall between them, he’s alluring, and the compulsion to break in and go to him is still there, though lessened.
“You won’t be able to keep him from me, you know,” Todoroki tells them, his voice distorted by the speaker. It still seems to rake over Toshinori’s skin with its disdain.
“All For One told us what you need and how you addict people,” Aizawa says, bland and indifferent as ever, though there’s a tiny tightness in his shoulders that tells Toshinori that he isn’t as unaffected as he’s acting. “Why Midoriya? Why would you do that to someone who was your friend?”
“I don’t have friends anymore,” Todoroki says coolly, and a part of Toshinori wants to beg his forgiveness. Fuck, that quirk is powerful. It’s a wonder anyone can stand to be in the room with him.
“Will the addiction get worse if we let him come to you?” Aizawa asks, decided to keep with the pragmatics.
“No. Once they’re addicted, that’s it. The only thing that affects it is time and distance. Fucking me won’t make his addiction worse.”
He’s tapping his fingers on a crossed arm, his fidgeting getting worse.
Aizawa sees it too. “How long has it been since you fed?”
“I don’t know what time it is, but all things considered, too long.”
“Will he really kill himself if he can’t get to you?” Toshinori has to ask.
Something almost like regret flashes across Todoroki’s face. “Everyone else has,” he says. “I’d appreciate if you don’t hold him back until he’s desperate though.”
“They’ll hurt you when they’re desperate?” Aizawa asks.
He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to; the rage in his eyes answers for him. Toshinori remembers how the dogs bit him scratched at him. He can only imagine that desperate men aren’t much better. Toshinori wonders how many times Todoroki has been raped by his own quirk in the last year. It’s little wonder that Midoriya seemed like a safe haven.
“It’s been hours,” Todoroki says like it’s a threat. “He’s going to need me soon.”
As if on cue, a shudder goes through the building. The cells here are not meant to hold someone as powerful as Midoriya. They won’t contain him for long.
“He’s going to take you whether you want him to or not,” Aizawa says.
Something bleak and hopeless comes into Todoroki’s eyes, and tears spring to the back of Toshinori’s own. No one, no one should look like that. Ever.
“They always do,” Todoroki says in a bleak tone. “But at least Midoriya is unlikely to be cruel.”
Helpless, Toshinori meets Aizawa’s eyes. “Should we let him come?” he asks. Recovery Girl already tried to heal Midoriya, but it didn’t do anything. Eri is still recovering from rewinding a couple heroes the day before, and her quirk likely won’t be reliable for at least a few more days.
Aizawa shrugs. “Do we really have a choice?”
The building shakes again, and Toshinori realizes they really don’t.
Izuku doesn’t have to break down the cell—apparently just banging on it a couple times made his point. When he’s released into the cell with Todoroki, he has no choice but to go to him, to touch him, to inhale the scent of him. He smells like heat after a summer storm, the hot bite of pavement cooled too fast by downpour, clean and industrial and yet flavored with the scent of green things growing after the shower. He smells like everything Izuku loves about summer in a single, beautiful breath, and Izuku just wants to wrap himself around it, care for it, protect it.
Possess it.
He doesn’t decide to taste Todoroki’s skin—it feels like if he doesn’t, he’ll go mad.
Todoroki tastes like summer rain, clean but with a tinny bite as if some bit of lightning has been trapped in each drop. He tips his head back and sighs, giving Izuku full access to explore. He has to nibble, has to feel that perfect skin in his teeth, and then his tongue brushes over an imperfection, a slight roughness. Izuku pulls back and sees the almost-invisible scar high on Todoroki’s neck.
“Who did this to you?” he asks, and he barely recognizes his own voice through the gravel of pure outrage that someone, anyone would dare leave a mark on something so perfect.
“They’re gone,” Todoroki says, and his voice washes over Izuku like the perfect coolness of a spring in blistering sun. His hands reach up to stroke Izuku’s face, and they’re cool and soothing, silk gliding across Izuku’s face. “I’m only yours now. Just for you.”
Izuku was so hard it hurt before Todoroki said that, but now he’s fit to burst. He picks up Todoroki as easily as he would a child and lays him on the tiny cell bed, then hesitates.
“What’s wrong?” Todoroki asks, legs spread around Izuku’s hips, a faint flush to his cheeks, his own arousal managing to tent the front of his kimono despite the heavy fabric.
“You deserve better than this crappy bed in this terrible place,” he says, then chuckles, “And I don’t have anything, and I’m probably not going to last anyway.”
Todoroki’s ankles hitch around Izuku’s waist, and he pulls himself upright into Izuku’s lap with a show of strength and flexibility that, frankly, nearly makes Izuku lose it on the spot. He settles in Izuku’s lap, closer to eye-to-eye like this, and strokes Izuku’s face again. He can’t help but lean into it and reaches up to hold Todoroki’s hand in place.
“You don’t have to worry about pleasing me,” Todoroki tells him, clever fingers freeing Izuku’s length one-handed. “I can get you hard as many times as I want you,” he murmurs low and like a promise. Izuku shudders at the thought, his length weeping in desire as that perfect hand strokes him.
“But I don’t—”
“Shh,” Todoroki hushes him, placing a finger that smells of Izuku’s own arousal on his lips to silence him. “Give me your hand.”
He lets Todoroki guide his hand between the folds of the kimono, past Todoroki’s length and balls, and behind it, feeling for his entrance. He does not expect to find it wet and ready for him. Todoroki releases his hand and instead grips Izuku’s shoulders as he explores Todoroki’s entrance.
“You…”
“Get wet,” Todoroki moans as Izuku slips two fingers in deeper, riding even that shallow penetration. “I need you, Midoriya,” he gasps. “Please…”
There is no resisting that plea. Izuku pulls his hand back, shifting Todoroki until he’s over the tip of Izuku’s length, but before he begins to lower him, Izuku hesitates.
Todoroki whines with frustration, leaning forward to wrap his arms around Izuku’s shoulders, burying his head in Izuku’s neck. His hair brushes the sensitive skin, and Izuku trembles, but he doesn’t lower Todoroki. “Please, Midoriya. I need it. I need you. Please…”
“You haven’t been prepped enough…” Izuku knows that’s important, somehow. He’s not small, and he’s barely touched Todoroki.
“I don’t need it,” he says, sounding desperate, his voice seeming to caress Izuku from the inside. “Please, please, I just need you. Fill me. Fuck me. Make me yours… Izuku…”
It’s too much. Izuku doesn’t ease Todoroki down like he intends, instead impaling him to the hilt in a single motion. It's too hot, too tight, too much, too fast, and Izuku orgasms deep within Todoroki while Todoroki throws his head back with a moan that almost makes him come again.
Even as the last tremors of his orgasm rock him, Izuku cannot let go of Todoroki, holding him close, holding him in place even though he knows he should let him go, even as the apologies spill from his lips. “I’m sorry. So sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Hush,” Todoroki says, taking his face in his hands and kissing him deeply, delving into Izuku’s mouth, exploring it. Just like his scent and skin and touch, his mouth tastes like cool, clean water on a hot day, and Izuku soon takes control of the kiss, getting hard again even as he remains inside Todoroki. When they have to break apart to breathe, Todoroki gasps, and it’s a beautiful sound that Izuku vows to hear again.
“I’m sorry,” he has to repeat, even as he’s nearly hard again and begins to roll his hips.
“You have no—” He’s cut off by a gasp, tightening up around Izuku for a second. "Nothing to apologize for,” he finishes after a moment, moving with Izuku.
Izuku has never seen anything so beautiful, and he can’t imagine living without this. There’s some tiny place in the back of his mind that says this is wrong, but it’s smothered beneath the feel and scent of Todoroki all around him. He snakes his hand between them and begins to stroke Todoroki in time with his thrusts, and he feels Todoroki tighten around him again, crying out in such a way that Izuku almost tips over again.
“You don’t have to—” Todoroki gasps, his hands gripping Izuku’s shoulders hard enough, he’s sure he’s going to have bruises.
“I want to,” he says, dipping down to suck a huge hickey onto Todoroki’s neck, where the kimono collar won’t cover it, hips kipping with more force. With each thrust, Todoroki makes a helpless whimpering, needy sound that drives Izuku even more mad with need, and before he realizes it, he’s spilling again within Todoroki, though this time Todoroki comes with him, spilling over Izuku’s hand.
Todoroki trembles in his arms, feeling oddly fragile for all his hardness and strength. Between catching his breath, Izuku sucks additional bruises into that too-perfect skin, laying claim, doing his best to erase the scars others have left. It isn’t long before Todoroki is hard again, and Izuku isn’t far behind him.
The third time is gentle, sensual. Izuku parts the kimono to give him access to Todoroki’s chest and finds his nipples delightfully sensitive as he fixes his mouth to one then the other. The build this time is slow but inexorable, the scent of their own passion thick in the air, but Izuku still catches that storm scent on Todoroki’s skin, still tastes that clean, fresh rain when they kiss. Todoroki strokes any bit of bare skin he can on Izuku—mostly his face and neck—while Izuku buries a hand in his hair and strokes the silken skin of his thigh and waist beneath the kimono before settling on teasing his length.
He focuses on Todoroki’s pleasure and swallows down his moan when he comes the third time like it is ambrosia, the way Todoroki tightens around him finally tipping him over the edge as well, until he spills deep within him a third time, marking Todoroki inside as much as he has marked him without with tongue and teeth and fingers.
Todoroki makes no move to unseat himself, so Izuku shifts gingerly until he’s propped up by the wall, then pulls him close, letting him rest his head on Izuku’s chest, finger combing hair that spills like spun water over his shoulders. He drifts off, still buried within Todoroki, and it feels like that’s exactly as it should be.