Work Text:
The night air rings with urgent shouts and the blare of sirens. Katsuki towers over the partially exploded man at his feet, lungs heaving with the adrenaline high of victory. He takes a few steps back while the cops and medics swoop in to clean up the rest.
He might still be a rookie on the scene, but Katsuki knows what he’s doing. He’s already nearing record numbers with his takedowns. Even at this point in his career, there isn’t a single soul in Japan who doesn’t know the name Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.
“Nice one, Explodo-Boy.”
Whether or not they respect his name is a whole other matter. Katsuki whips around and plants his gloved hands on his hips.
“You’re basically a walking sedative—the fuck do you know about a good fight?”
Hitoshi is also in his hero suit, clearly having arrived at the scene too late to be of use. His smirk is lazy and lopsided, but his eyes stare directly into Katsuki’s, unflinching. He shrugs. “I dabble.”
“Tch. Whatever.”
Ever since their graduation from UA last year, Katsuki’s routine has become fairly consistent: wake up, work out with Izuku, go to the agency, save the world one purse-snatcher at a time, train with Izuku, eat dinner alone or maybe with Izuku, have some mutually codependent (platonic) downtime with Izuku, go to sleep, repeat.
Except for these past few weeks.
All of a sudden, it was like every patrol, every trip to the grocery store or late-night errand—it’s like whenever Katsuki happens to be alone, this purple-headed, dead-eyed freak somehow appears. Always wearing a smarmy grin with that… look in his eyes. It just keeps fucking happening lately and it’s officially starting to get under Katsuki’s skin.
So, Katsuki turns on his heel and marches away.
“What, not even a ‘hello’ between colleagues?”
Katsuki tries to ignore him…
“Seriously? No ‘get lost’ or ‘eat shit and die’ tonight?”
… But he doesn’t know why he just can’t.
“You’re off shift soon, yeah?” Hitoshi murmurs, finally catching up to match his pace.
Katsuki stops his march, his eyes narrow. “You stalkin’ me now, creep?”
Hitoshi stops too. Away from the commotion of the sirens, the street is almost too quiet for comfort at this hour. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“I don’t care how you take it.”
Hitoshi rolls his eyes, but he huffs out a laugh despite himself. “I just wa—”
“HEELLLPP!”
The two heroes part in a dangerous flash of movement. They scour the immediate area in mere seconds—Katsuki propels himself upwards while Hitoshi takes ground level, until the sound leads them to a dark alleyway around the corner. They wait. No sign of movement. No indication that anyone had even been here to begin with.
“Shit.”
Hitoshi squints into the dark. “It’s a dead end, but I didn’t see anyone running down the street…”
Katsuki grunts. “No one in the air either.”
“No passing traffic.”
“So what the hell was that?”
“Dunno,” Hitoshi sighs. “Think we should report it?”
“Think we should report it?” Katsuki mimics in a low, mocking voice. “‘Course I’m gonna report it. Could be connected to something else.”
Hitoshi lets out a long groan. “Can you try to act your age for, like, five minutes?”
“Can you be a competent hero for, like, five minutes?”
Hitoshi takes a step closer. The darkness of the alleyway shrouds his face in black until all Katsuki can see are his eyes.
Lilac.
Katsuki stands his ground, doesn’t move an inch. Tries to ignore how he holds his breath and waits.
“You know that I am. I’ve proven that.” Hitoshi’s stern tone leaves no room for argument…
But that’s never really been Katsuki’s style.
“Yeah? And what makes you think that I’ve been paying any attention?”
Hitoshi smiles. “I see the way you look at me.”
“Wh—”
“I see how you watch me.”
Their eyes never waver from one another’s, no matter how badly Katsuki wishes they would. He just can’t look away. Hitoshi takes a step forward, his boot thumps heavily against the damp concrete. “Used to do it back in UA too, y’know.”
Any response that Katsuki could’ve come up with gets lodged in his throat so quickly that he nearly chokes. He takes a half step back before he can stop himself, and his shoulder scrapes against the wall behind him with a muted thud.
“I noticed,” Hitoshi smirks. “Couldn’t help but notice when your eyes were on me.”
He hates to admit it, but the feeling is mutual. In fact, Katsuki can’t wait to see the look on this fucker’s face when he proves him wrong. Can’t wait to watch the disappointment slowly set in as he tells him off and—
Unfortunately, Katsuki has never been much of a liar.
“Y-you,” he stutters through the rising humiliation, so he takes a shaking breath and tries again. “You’re out of your mind if you think that I’d—”
“You want me, don’t you?”
The world stops.
Everything grows silent except for the blood pounding in Katsuki’s ears. It’s like the air around them ignites and its heat ripples under Katsuki’s skin. His pulse spikes—he knows this feeling, but he can’t bring himself to admit it.
Rage. Interest.
“Back the fuck off, Mindfreak,” he growls.
Fear.
Then Hitoshi fucking laughs. It’s deep and dark and edging on cruel, but it settles low and hot in Katsuki’s gut unlike anything he’s ever felt before. He glares harder, desperately trying to will away the burning in his cheeks. He’s grateful for the darkness of the alleyway.
“Not gonna deny it, Bakugou?”
He’s even closer now and Katsuki feels himself sink flush against the damp wall behind him. None of this is making any fucking sense. He doesn’t know what to do, where to look. It’s stifling. His heart is pounding and it’s like he’s forgotten how to fight, flee, do anything except just stand still and wait.
Hitoshi leans in close until Katsuki can feel his breath ripple across his lips. “You want me, yeah?”
Katsuki nearly chokes on a gasp.
Oh god, he’s right, he realizes with an inescapable clarity.
“Fuck you,” is what comes out instead. “I said back off.”
“You don’t want that.”
Then Hitoshi’s eyes begin to glow.
“What do you mean I-I don’t—”
Katsuki’s mind suddenly plunges into a deep, lilac haze. Completely ensnared by Hitoshi’s quirk.
“That’s it,” Hitoshi coos. “You want me. Admit it.”
“I want you,” Katsuki feels himself respond. His own voice sounds calm and distant, limbs heavy as if they’ve been coated in thick, oozing honey. He’s vaguely aware that Hitoshi’s quirk has taken hold of his mind, his body, but he can’t bring himself to fight back.
Because, for once, he’s completely blank. Everything is so hazy, yet focused and blissful and free, and it’s like all he has to do is—
“Listen to me very closely, Katsuki,” Hitoshi murmurs, and his voice fills Katsuki’s mind until it’s all he knows.
That’s right. All he has to do right now is listen. Listen to Hitoshi.
“I need you to tell me something. And you’re going to be unable to tell me anything other than the complete truth whenever I ask you something. Do you understand?”
“Mhm’nderstand.”
“Good boy,” Hitoshi purrs. Katsuki burns under the praise. Hitoshi’s leg slides up between Katsuki’s and—oh. His vision might as well be tinged pink. “Tell me what you want.”
“Touch me,” Katsuki supplies with no hesitation. And it kind of feels… nice. Relaxing. He feels serene and confident in his choices when he’s like this. Besides, nothing else really matters right now except Hitoshi. And Katsuki wouldn’t have it any other way. Probably.
“Yeah? You gonna let me have my way with you, hero?”
“Yes.”
“So perfect.”
Then there’s a tongue in his mouth.
Now, Katsuki has been very busy in the past year since graduation. He’s been fighting his way through the ranks, keeping on top of his finances, and making sure he has enough time to cook and clean before he inevitably gets dragged out to social gatherings by his dipshit friends. He really hasn’t had much time to devote to deciding what he might like in a sexual partner.
He likes strength. He likes security. And, right now, he really fucking likes Hitoshi. Whether that has to do with the soft purple tinge around his vision is beyond him, but in this moment, he honestly couldn’t care less. Until Hitoshi breaks away from their kiss, and then Katsuki doesn’t know what to do besides chase the line of spit between their lips, sucking hard and swallowing it down.
“You’re gonna take my cock, aren’t you, pretty thing?” Hitoshi’s voice oozes straight into Katsuki’s bloodstream. Like strings latching onto a puppet’s limbs.
“Cock,” Katuski pants, completely overcome by the sensation of rutting against Hitoshi’s leg.
Hitoshi laughs against his neck, and Katsuki’s lilac-rimmed eyes flutter at the rumbling sensation. “Better than I ever imagined. So soft and compliant and weak, just like you’ve always wanted to be, yeah?” One of Hitoshi’s hands snakes its way across Katsuki’s groin—heat erupts through his body as a sharp gasp echoes down the alleyway—and travels further and further down until he has a handful of Katsuki’s ass.
“Hitoshi,” Katsuki whines, humping fruitlessly against his leg. “P-please.” He should be embarrassed, he realizes absentmindedly, but he just can’t seem to feel anything other than thoughtless bliss right now.
“Well, only because you asked so nicely,” Hitoshi smiles. Then his expression darkens. “Turn around. Hands on the wall,” he commands. Katsuki’s body moves on its own, obeying the order. “Let’s get you open nice and wide for me, yeah?” Hitoshi purrs.
Then the lilac fog suddenly lifts from Katsuki’s mind.
“Fuuuuuuuck,” Katsuki groans, nuzzling his forehead against the alley wall, hygiene be damned. He can’t help it. There’s a hard cock rutting against his ass, for fuck’s sake. His vision swims as he tries to come down from the effects of Hitoshi’s quirk. How did he even get in this position? Why didn’t he want to stop it? What did—
“Who do you obey, Kat?”
Another thrust against his ass. Katsuki arches his back and keens at the jolt of pleasure.
“Nnngg, f-fuck, I—”
Then his mind plunges into that purple haze once more, and everything goes quiet. Still.
The quirk itself doesn’t necessarily feel good. Just rips his thoughts from him and leaves nothing but a purple fog in its wake. Katsuki is somehow aware of this fact, but the realization only leaves him with a desperate throbbing between his legs.
He’s being used. Hitoshi took over. He fought and won—won Katsuki. Katsuki is his now, and all he has to do is give in to the purple fog and just fucking take it. He just has to let go, give in. Let Hitoshi take control.
“I asked you a question. Who do you obey?”
“You,” Katsuki’s mouth replies for him.
“Just me?”
Katsuki grinds back against Hitoshi’s clothed cock. “Only you.” His words come out all monotonous and docile. Almost serene.
“That’s right. And it feels good to obey only me.”
At those words, a rush of pure euphoria shoots through Katsuki, and he suddenly feels fucking amazing. Like the burden of his self-control, his will, has been stripped away and replaced with pleasure. A mindless kind of pleasure that wraps around his foggy, lust-drunk mind until his thoughts just kind of… leak out.
“You want to lose control.”
Katsuki feels his body wilt as the fight fully leaves his body—not that there was much fight in him to begin with. “Wanna lose control,” he repeats.
Katsuki knows that it’s the truth before the words even leave his mouth. It’s as if all of Hitoshi’s thoughts are his thoughts. Like he doesn’t have to try to come up with a response because Hitoshi’s words are just… already there. Thinking for him. Deciding for him. Guiding his mind and body as if he’s just an empty puppet. A vessel for Hitoshi’s will. Katsuki’s cock bobs violently, and he goes cross-eyed at the frustrating lack of friction.
Hitoshi rips at Katsuki’s suit and starts groping his chest and dick from behind. Katsuki barely registers the sensation of the cold, night air against his bare ass. He just stands still and waits, hands splayed against the grimy side of the building. So perfect and still—Katsuki starts to wonder if those are Hitoshi’s words or his own, but then Hitoshi starts to open him up with sticky fingers and reckless abandon, and it’s like Katsuki’s thoughts dissolve into little bubbles that go pop! inside his mind.
The thrilling burn of the stretch leaves him panting and groaning so loudly that Hitoshi has to slap a hand over Katsuki’s mouth. Still, he can’t seem to stop moaning into Hitoshi’s hand.
“Quiet.”
Katsuki’s mouth snaps shut.
“You’re going to stay completely still for me.”
Katsuki doesn’t move an inch.
Hitoshi drags his smile across the back of Katsuki’s neck. “Good slut,” he murmurs, and it sends a hot wave of shivers through Katsuki’s entire body. He tries to sigh in pleasure, but no sound comes out.
Then Hitoshi pushes inside.
Katsuki’s hazy vision nearly blacks out when Hitoshi’s fucking long, spit-slick cock drags against his prostate. Still, he obeys—he keeps perfectly silent, perfectly still as Hitoshi slams into him over and over.
Harsh, wet slaps and ragged breaths are the only sounds that swirl in Katsuki’s mind. Nothing else. No thoughts, no wants of his own, no will.
“Such a perfect hole once you finally stop talking,” Hitoshi groans, his voice becoming gravelly and more wrecked with each thrust. “Who knew all it took was some cock to make you listen, hm?”
The purple haze gets stronger as it wraps itself around Katsuki’s mind all over again, even stronger now, and his eyes roll back at the thoughtless relief it brings with it.
Hitoshi pets down Katsuki’s back, but he doesn’t stop fucking into him. “You can speak again, but only when I ask you a question. You gonna talk back to me again tonight?”
“N-no,” Katsuki gasps, and the next few thrusts of Hitoshi’s cock leave him panting against the wall.
“That’s right. Because I like my cocksleeves quiet and obedient.”
Katsuki feels himself smile, his tongue wet and heavy as it slips out from between his lips.
Hitoshi fucks into him harder and harder, and it’s like each thrust leaves Katsuki’s mind quieter and quieter. Better. He’s perfect now, just like Hitoshi said.
Time passes but Katsuki doesn’t care, he just smiles and takes what’s given to him. Hitoshi’s words. Hitoshi’s cock. Hitoshi’s control.
Katsuki is completely lost in his lilac-coloured trance when he suddenly recognizes a new voice coming from behind him.
“What, you’re not gonna share?”
A particularly hard thrust makes Katsuki’s vision go watery. Tears smear across his cheek as someone grips his hair and forces his head to the side. It’s all dark and hazy, but he can just barely make out broad shoulders and spiky, red hair.
Shinsou laughs darkly, thrusts even deeper, and groans. “You can play with him all you—fuck—want once I—” his thrusts get faster and faster, and Katsuki feels so full he could actually burst.
A few more thrusts, and then there’s a long, low groan from behind him. Hitoshi’s rhythm falters into something more pulsing and slower as he empties himself into Katsuki’s ass. Wet pulses of cum pump into Katsuki so deeply, it feels like it’s plugging him up to his throat.
“My turn.”
Oh. That’s Kirishima’s voice.
Katsuki doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. All he knows is that he’s Hitoshi’s cocksleeve. And Hitoshi likes his cocksleeves quiet and obedient.
Quiet and obedient.
It echoes in Katsuki’s mind—is Hitoshi talking to him?—as he remains still and waits. His leaking hole quivers when Kirishima’s cock presses against it.
Hitoshi leans forward, lips flush against Katsuki’s ear as he speaks with panting breaths. “Stay still. You want this. Say it.”
“I want this,” Katsuki drones, remaining thoughtless and still as Kirishima starts fucking into him.
Everything is so blurry. There are fingers in his mouth, a hand fisted into his hair, cocks slamming into him, laughter and groans and praises all around him. Hitoshi’s whispers fill his mind. Katsuki barely makes out the words Cum now, but his body obeys for him.
The command crashes into him, and Katsuki feels himself scream from the force of his orgasm as his vision whites out and explodes into light and then—
He wakes up.
Katsuki sees red.
“WHAT?!” he screams at no one in particular. Mostly to himself, or the universe or whatever because there is cum fucking everywhere. “What the FUCK was that?!”
Katsuki whips off his covers—which are now absolutely drenched in sweat and cum, ugh ew fuck—and marches his shameful ass straight to the shower. He furiously scrubs at his body, replaying the events of that bullshit dream. He can still hear Hitoshi’s voice purring in his mind. Then there are images of Kirishima, the gleeful look on his face as he—
“Bleach,” Katsuki groans into the stream of water. He scrubs at his eyes, willing the thoughts away. “I need fuckin’ bleach for this shit.”
He’s never falling asleep again.
Katsuki turns off the shower and snatches his towel, muttering furiously as he goes. “Because what the fuck that isn’t even how the quirk fuckin’ works! Or feels! That-that was some porn ass fantasy shit. And I would’ve— I, I… FUCK!”
He glares at his own reflection and wonders how his brain even came up with something so fucked.
Then it hits him.
He slams open the bathroom door and stomps down the hall.
“Shitty Deku and his stupid fuckin’ kinks… Absolute menace. Piece of shit nerd-ass loser, fuckin’ taint of a boyfriend—”
He’s about to turn into the kitchen when the door to his apartment suddenly opens.
“Um, Kacchan…?”
Katsuki whips around, the image of rage incarnate.
“You.” He points at Izuku’s stupid, wide-eyed stare from across the room as he stalks forward. “You’re dead.”
“W-What?! What did I do?!”
“Run.”
“KACCHAN??!”