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Summer’s so hot these days, it leaks into the spell of sleep. Tonight, Shoto dreams that he’s in the water. Small bright flames. Burning right up, even though he’s in the middle of an ocean.
Shoto groans, and wakes up.
Immediately feels weird. Tingly. He’d probably been rolling around half the night, restless, and now he comes around to wetness between his thighs. He grimaces, and checks to see if he’d sweat so much during the night he drenched his shorts—
— only to find that they’ve already been bunched up around his knees. With Katsuki's mouth laving all over his cunt, sweet, indulgent. What. Shoto moans, shuddering up onto his elbows to stare at his boyfriend, bleary-eyed. There’s so much spit and slick, and probably sweat, too— it’s so wet.
”Katsuki?” he slurs, groaning and twitching when Katsuki sucks hard, before smacking his lips and pulling away, though barely. “‘Suki, Suki what—”
”Good morning, shortcake.” Katsuki’s voice is a deep rumble, a little hoarse either from the morning or from eating him out, and fuck, that’s hot. It’s too early for this. Katsuki looks sort of…wild, his pupils dark, only a thin ring of red, hair more frazzled than usual and Shoto can’t help but tease him a tiny bit, the smart comment that slips out.
“Yeah, it sure is,” he says, way breathier than intended. “Your hair looks like—“ the hairball I found when you were napping on the sofa with our cat. You almost inhaled it through your mouth, he was supposed to say. But god, Katsuki won’t even let him hold a conversation, diving right back in before he can finish that thought and bumping his nose harshly against his clit, lapping at his puffy folds. Shoto whines, and twists his hands into Katsuki’s hair. Then thinks better of it, and grips the sheets for dear life when his left starts to act up in the presence of his very flammable boyfriend. Shit. He feels sensitive. Like really sensitive, and wonders how long Katsuki's been eating him out, if he’s already come once. A shivery feeling courses through his legs, makes them clench up around Katsuki’s head.
Shoto notices Katsuki's slight stubble, at the stage now where it tends to grow back. It starts rubbing his thighs raw. He’ll probably have difficulty walking the next day. Katsuki brushes his cheek right over the red skin again, and again, pressing firm, wet open-mouthed kisses insistently over his inner thighs and pussy which makes him melt and try to wiggle away all at once. Katsuki bites him. Grumbles something like sit still, baby, into his cunt. Then he pushes his thighs towards each other, smothering his own face between them, making Shoto feel every scratchy movement of his jaw pressing right into his bones, and take it.
“A-ahh, Katsuki I’m—“ is all the warning he can give, before he starts gushing out of his pussy, thrashing and moaning high-pitched with the force of his orgasm. He squirts, first try. Which probably means Katsuki did make him come at least once. In his sleep. Shoto doesn't know why that makes him feel so insane, but it does. His legs struggle to let up from the bear trap of Katsuki’s arms, but it’s no use. While he’s overheating and twitching on their soaked sheets, Katsuki just blinks up at him and goes straight for round two. Shoto jolts when Katsuki stretches what feels like his entire mouth, stretched as wide as it can go over his cunt. Like he hasn’t gotten enough. He spears his tongue right into his pussy, licking up and down his folds where it’s tender, and Shoto arches away, panting.
“What’s gotten into you?!” he hisses, choking on poorly concealed moans at the feeling of something warm and wet filling him, teasing his rim, spreading drool and slick all over him with every broad, flat stroke of his tongue. Katsuki doesn’t really respond, just hums. Shoto shudders. His inner thighs feel ticklish, just as overstimulated as his cunt; he bites down on his lip and rubs his calves feverishly along the sides of Katsuki’s back, where they’re stretched around his shoulders. He’s hot. Muscles bulging, a little flushed, sweating. A lot— dripping down his skin and away like Shoto’s last modicum of sanity. He feels his palms up Shoto’s legs, raking in scratches, and doubles down on his cunt, eating and sucking hungrily. Fuck. His body burns and breaks out in another sheen of sweat.
“Hnngh— ah, honey let me breathe, please—“ He’s keening, tapping out on the surface of their sheets out of habit, a sheet of ice crystallising from the tips of his fingers. Katsuki’s hands grope his waist then settle low, warm palms pressing slightly on his stomach, down, down on the feeling building hot and tight in his womb and he’s gone, shuddering through another orgasm.
Katsuki finally, finally emerges from between his thighs and Shoto keels over on his side, breathing raggedly. He sniffles and glances up at his boyfriend— Katsuki wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, only smearing the mess around. His lips are swollen red and so pretty, and he’s drenched, from his face all the way down to his chest. Fuck, it still makes him embarrassed sometimes, just a little bit, but Katsuki seems to sense this and kisses him, gnawing at his bottom lip and cheek. He leans back up, gripping his thick cock in a fist, angry red and leaking precum at the tip. the sight makes him squeeze his legs together needily, mouth watering.
“Can I put it in, Shou? Please?” He slips two fingers into his slippery hole, then three, probing and stroking and checking if he’s still loose from last night, and god, he can’t just ask that when he’s lazily fingerfucking his cunt. Shoto moans, barely nodding twice and croaking yeah, before Katsuki’s grabbing lube from their bedside table and squeezing it right over his pussy. He groans and winces at the mess spilling over his thighs and into the sheets.
”Don’t look at me like that,” Katsuki pinches him. “I’m the one who washes the sheets anyway.”
Sure, but that doesn’t stop Shoto from glaring harder. “Okay, but I’m the one that folds them,” he protests.
“Yeah, only for you to give our bed frostbite.”
“Hey—!”
“Shou baby, shut your mouth,” he orders. Though it significantly lacks bite, and Shoto’s about to tease him for at the same time Katsuki’s ripping his legs wide open, lining up and slamming all the way to the hilt. His vision whites out for a second. Then Shoto squeals, struggling for breath and crawling up the bed on his elbows because it’s too much too deep. Well, he tries. Katsuki grabs him by the hips and sinks him right back down.
“A-ahh, ah Katsuki Katsuki,” Shoto moans, twisting his head and squeezing his eyes shut, warm tears starting to slide down his cheeks, dripping one after the other. It joins the wreck of sweat and drool on his face, he probably looks like he’s been fucked stupid. Katsuki keeps his cock in deep, then grinds his g-spot in tight circles and Shoto freezes the bed. It immediately vaporises away in a puff of steam from their combined body heat and his flames. Katsuki clenches his jaw at that, and starts pounding him, like, really, at a pace he can barely keep up with and he writhes and twists in his hold.
“Fuck!” he yells. “Suki slow down, jesus—“
“I know,” he whines, which, Katsuki never does. It’s almost cute. “‘M sorry, I can't help it—“
His quirk sparks on cue and he quickly wipes his palms on the sheets. Shoto grits his teeth. He feels as desperate as Katsuki looks. “Okay, work all of it out of your system,” he pants. “Just don’t—“ go for my clit, is what he was going to say. Before Katsuki takes it between his fingers and pinches it, rubbing in slow circles. Shoto cries out and arches up painfully. He ices his right fist and punches Katsuki in the chest.
“Ow,” Katsuki says, catching and interlocking their fingers together, locked a brief round of tug of war while drilling him even harder. Frost curls up his shoulder. He sighs, as it cools his body. “Aren’t you considerate, sweetheart.”
Shoto scoffs, hitting him again. “Shut up, you masochist.”
“Me?!” Katsuki huffs. He grabs Shoto’s arms hard, fingers digging in when their skin slips with sweat and uses his grip to bounce him up and down his cock. His left side ignites and causes Katsuki's rough palm to spark against his bicep. Shit. Shoto’s mouth hangs open in shock, jumping at the loud crack and he moans loudly.
“That’s what I thought.”
Shoto just scowls, raking his nails all over his back, too hot and too cold till they’re both gasping for air. Katsuki leans down and kisses him hard on the mouth, shoving his tongue down his throat. Christ. Brawling and fucking first thing in the morning— if this was some twisted way of getting him to burn calories in return for rejecting Katsuki’s runs at the ass-crack of dawn Shoto’s going to set his dick on fire. He draws blood, scratching down his shoulders and Katsuki rips his hands away and pins him down with both his wrists trapped in one of his fists. He flips him face down onto the covers. Shoto’s eyes roll in the back of his head and he buries his nose in the pillows and his pathetic whimper, too. It reminds him of mornings when sometimes he’d get rocked awake by Katsuki’s cock nestled deep in him from the night before, rutting chest to back in a tender soft rhythm that’d make him drift back to sleep. Now he’s getting pummeled into the bed, headboard banging against their wall with every thrust and he feels like he might pass out instead. The scent of burnt sugar in the room keeps rising and rising in intensity from all the smoke and sweat in the air, Katsuki’s chest pressed hot against his spine and bracketing his body completely. Shoto feels the hair-pin trigger of ignition held over his head. Then Katsuki keeps aiming his thrusts up, bottoming out in his stomach and making him beg and beg and arch his back to meet his hips.
“Mmmhhhh,” he gasps, tossing his head, “w-wait, coming—“
Katsuki scoops a hand around his stomach and presses his cunt flush against his pelvis, holding him there for a long, long moment. Knowing just how much Shoto likes it when he’s coming around something hot and heavy, stretched with nowhere to go. The inside of his pussy is twitching uncontrollably, and he cries and hides his face in the sheets when he feels himself get wetter, slick dripping out of his stuffed hole and down his thighs from orgasm.
Katsuki curses behind him and muffles a groan into the nape of his neck. Shoto shivers, moaning softly when he comes inside. Now he seriously feels like he’s overheating, belly warm and kept full. Eventually Katsuki flops onto bed next to him, panting hard. Shoto’s still face down, arms around his head and feeling way too filthy for how high the sun is up in the sky. They lie together like that for a few minutes till Shoto gets his brain back online and is able to roll over without wincing at the light streaming through their curtains.
“…Cool. So, you're calmed down now, right?” Shoto smacks him on the forehead with his right hand, but what’s he gonna do, complain?
Katsuki blinks one eye open, half lidded from the heat and side eyes him, saying nothing.
Shoto narrows his eyes. “Right?” he says pointedly, turning over to fully face Katsuki. He groans petulantly.
“Yeah yeah, whatever.”
“You better be.” Shoto pinches the tip of Katsuki’s nose. Idiot with perfect skin. “You were worked up huh? Why? I thought work was okay yesterday?”
“Yeah.” Katsuki waves him off, grunting. “…I just like you,” he says, in an I’m-a-big-softy tone while leaning in to take a bite out of his cheek as if that’ll distract from it. “And it was too damn hot.”
“Mhm,” Shoto hums, summoning his quirk. He leans over, reaching for his phone and Katsuki shuffles close. It’s at peak temperature right now, and apparently the hottest day so far this summer. “I haven’t seen you lose control of your quirk like that in a while.”
Katsuki clicks his tongue, closing his eyes. So he doesn’t have to be confronted by his delusion, probably. ”Nah, you didn’t see anything.”
”Okay. But you owe me three hundred favours.” Shoto traces icy patterns over Katsuki's chest, thinking hard. “Oh, I’ve figured out what I want,” he says, struck with a sudden flash of genius.
Katsuki just grunts and side eyes him again, though a little warily.
“I want ice cream.”
“Ugh,” Katsuki complains. “Later.”
“Pleaseee. And water,” he nags, disappearing for a quick bathroom trip. Katsuki groans, but Shoto hears him getting up after some deliberation and he returns with two glasses of water and a wet towel. Shoto crawls back to bed and sprawls out comfortably, freezing the cups which immediately start dripping with condensation while Katsuki wipes him off. Shoto drags him down into bed again, kissing him with tongue. Then exhaustion seems to hit them both at the same time, as Katsuki holds Shoto and drapes his right side all over his chest. He makes this small sound, content, and stills, breath evening out.
Shoto tucks his head under his chin, eyelids suddenly heavy— he always falls asleep so fast when he’s molded on top of Katsuki, seeping in his high body temperature. Sure, they’re a little gross and extremely sticky but, maybe a power nap wouldn’t hurt. Shoto sighs, and lets himself drift off. Fun morning.