The bell’s shriek faded into a dull ringing in Izuku’s ears. He walked. The fresh cotton underwear Katsuki had put on him was already damp, the fabric clinging to his sticky thighs with every step. A deep, phantom ache pulsed between his legs, a rhythm that matched the memory of his father’s hips.

“Hey. Midoriya.”

A hand landed on his shoulder. Izuku flinched, his whole body jolting as if shocked. He stumbled back, his books clutched tight to his chest like a shield.

Yo Shindo stood there, his fluffy black curls framing a concerned, handsome face. His hand hung in the air where Izuku’s shoulder had been. “Whoa. You okay? You look… really out of it.”

Izuku’s mouth was dry. He could still taste it—the bitter salt of his father’s kiss, the ghost of his own spend. The hallway’s fluorescent lights buzzed, a sickly hum that felt like exposure. “I’m fine,” he mumbled, the words thick. “Just tired.”

“You sure?” Yo stepped closer, his brown eyes scanning Izuku’s face. “You’re all flushed. And you jumped like I burned you.”

“Don’t touch me.” The words came out sharper than he meant, a brittle crack in his numb haze. He saw Yo’s friendly concern falter, replaced by confusion.

“Okay, sorry. Jeez.” Yo held his hands up, a surrendering gesture that felt all wrong. “You just seem off. More than usual.”

A low, familiar voice cut through from behind them. “He said don’t touch him.”

Tesutesu Kirishima shouldered past, his massive frame a wall of silver hair and simmering irritation. His black eyes, so like his father’s but colder, fixed on Yo. “Take the hint.”

Yo blinked, looking between the rigid Izuku and the glowering Tesutesu. “We’re just talking, Kirishima.”

“Doesn’t look like he’s talking back.” Tesutesu’s gaze slid to Izuku. He didn’t ask if he was okay. His eyes dropped, just for a second, to the high collar of Izuku’s uniform, then back to his face. A knowing, grim quiet passed between them. Tesutesu saw it. The mark, the fog, the walk. He knew the shape of it.

“Whatever,” Yo muttered, his attempt at charm dissolving into annoyance. He shot Izuku a last, puzzled look. “Later, Midoriya.”

They watched him disappear into the stream of students. The noise of the hallway rushed back in—lockers slamming, laughter, the scuff of shoes. It was all so loud, so ordinary. It made the secret inside Izuku feel like a screaming thing.

“Your old man drop you off today?” Tesutesu asked, his voice flat. He didn’t look at Izuku, just stared down the hall where Yo had gone.

Izuku nodded, his throat tight.

“Figured.” Tesutesu finally glanced at him. “You’ve got that look. Like you’re still full of him.”

The raw, vulgar truth of it hit Izuku in the gut. His face burned hotter. He wanted to deny it, to scream. Instead, a traitorous throb answered from between his legs. He squeezed his thighs together, a futile attempt to stifle it.

“Shut up,” Izuku whispered.

Tesutesu just grunted, a sound that was almost sympathetic. “He get you off, at least? Before he shoved you out the door?”

The memory of the alley, of the steering wheel gripped in his hands, of the overwhelming, squirting release Katsuki had wrung from him, flashed behind Izuku’s eyes. He’d screamed. He’d screamed so loud in that car. His silence now was answer enough.

“Good,” Tesutesu said, as if reading the confirmation on Izuku’s trembling lips. “Makes the day easier. Walking around empty… that’s worse.”

He said it like it was a simple fact. A shared manual. Izuku stared at the floor, at the scuffed linoleum. He felt the damp cotton pinch. He felt the echo of a large, calloused hand on his leg.

“I hate it,” Izuku breathed, the confession meant for the tiles.

“Yeah,” Tesutesu said, not missing a beat. He turned to head to class. “You keep telling yourself that, Midoriya.” Remembering his own morning with his father.

The alarm hadn't gone off yet. Tesutesu’s hand was already under the sheets, fingers pushing into the hot, wet clutch of his father’s pussy. Eijiro Kirishima made a soft, sleepy sound, his big body shifting on the mattress.

“C’mon, old man,” Tesutesu muttered, his voice thick with morning. He pressed his face into the back of Eijiro’s neck, biting the muscle there. His other hand groped a heavy pec, thumb rubbing over a stiff nipple. “Wake up.”

Eijiro groaned, a deep rumble in his chest. He was still mostly asleep, his body pliant and open. “Tets… s’too early.”

“No it’s not.” Tesutesu shoved his fingers deeper, curling them. He felt his father’s cunt clench, slick flooding around his knuckles. The smell of it—musk and sleep—filled his nose. He was already hard, his cock straining against Eijiro’s ass. “You’re wet. You’re always wet for me.”

“M’not,” Eijiro mumbled, but he pushed back, grinding against the thick length of his son. A shudder went through him. “Just… gimme a minute.”

“You’ve had all night.” Tesutesu withdrew his fingers, shiny and dripping. He spat into his palm, slicked himself, and notched his blunt head against Eijiro’s hole. He didn’t ask. He just pushed.

Eijiro gasped, his back arching as the fat tip stretched him open. His hand flew back, gripping Tesutesu’s hip, not to stop him but to hold on. “Fuck. Easy.”

“You take it.” Tesutesu shoved in the rest of the way, a single, brutal thrust that buried him to the root. The bedframe cracked against the wall. Eijiro cried out, a raw, punched-out sound that dissolved into a ragged moan. Tesutesu froze, buried inside the incredible, clenching heat. He dropped his forehead between his father’s shoulder blades, breathing hard. “There. Awake now?”

“Brat,” Eijiro panted, but his hips were already moving, rocking back, taking him deeper. “Such a fuckin’ brat.”

Tesutesu grinned against his skin. He set a pace, deep and pounding, no finesse, just possession. The slap of skin filled the dark room. He fucked like it was a claim, one hand fisted in Eijiro’s red hair, the other digging into the soft flesh of his hip. Eijiro took it, his moans turning loud and broken, his big body shaking with each drive.

“Gonna come,” Eijiro choked out, his voice wrecked. “Tets, I’m—“

“Do it.” Tesutesu’s hand slid from his hip to his swollen clit, rubbing rough, fast circles. “Scream for me. Let the whole house hear.”

Eijiro came with a yell that tore itself to pieces, his cunt clamping down on Tesutesu’s cock in a frantic, greedy rhythm. It was a raw, milking pull, desperate to keep him buried, to drain him.

Tesutesu fucked him through it, hips pistoning, chasing the white-hot coil in his own gut. His thrusts lost all rhythm, just hard, driving slams, chasing that peak. He came with a gut-deep grunt, flooding his father’s depths, a hot, claiming rush. His teeth sank deep into the meat of Eijiro’s shoulder, biting down on a snarl as he pulsed inside him, emptying everything he had.

They collapsed, a heap of sweat and heat and spent breath. Tesutesu stayed buried, his face pressed to the bite mark on Eijiro’s shoulder. After a minute, his father’s hand came up, patting his arm. A rough, affectionate gesture.

“Happy now?” Eijiro’s voice was a tired rumble.

Tesutesu pulled out with a wet sound that made Eijiro shiver. "Not yet," he growled, his voice still rough from his orgasm. He flipped his father onto his back, the movement brusque, and shoved his thick thighs apart. "We're not done."

Eijiro’s chest heaved, his red hair splayed across the pillow. "Tets, come on," he breathed, but his hands came up to grip his son's muscular arms, holding on, not pushing away.

"You heard me." Tesutesu spat into his palm again, slicking his cock, which was still half-hard and gleaming. He guided himself back to Eijiro’s swollen, dripping entrance. "Gonna fuck you 'til you can't walk straight."

He didn't ease in this time. He drove, a single, relentless push that stole the air from Eijiro's lungs. Eijiro's head tipped back, a choked cry escaping his throat as he was filled again, so soon, so deep. Tesutesu set a brutal, pounding rhythm from the start, the bed slamming into the wall with every thrust.

"Daddy," Tesutesu grunted, the word a command and a claim. He leaned down, bracing his weight on his forearms, his black eyes fixed on his father's face. "You take it. You always take it."

Eijiro’s eyes were glazed, his mouth open. Each slam forced a ragged gasp from him. His big, calloused hands scrambled over Tesutesu's back, leaving red trails. "Fuck—so deep—"

"Whose is it?" Tesutesu demanded, his hips never slowing. The slap of skin was loud, obscene in the morning quiet.

"Yours," Eijiro moaned, the himbo simplicity of him surrendering to the truth. "It's yours, baby."

Tesutesu’s grin was fierce. He hooked Eijiro’s legs over his shoulders, bending him nearly in half, and fucked into him even harder. The new angle punched the air from Eijiro’s chest in a continuous, broken stream. Tesutesu watched his father’s face unravel, watched the pleasure-pain twist his features, the sweat bead on his temples.

"Gonna come again," Eijiro warned, his voice shattered. "Tets, I can't—it's too much—"

"You can." Tesutesu dropped one hand between them, his thumb finding Eijiro’s oversensitive clit. He pressed, hard. "Do it. Soak me."

Eijiro came with a silent, open-mouthed scream, his body bowing off the bed. His cunt clenched in violent, milking pulses, a fresh flood of wetness spilling around Tesutesu’s driving cock. Tesutesu fucked him through it, his own release building, a hot, urgent pressure in his gut.

He came with a final, deep thrust, burying himself to the hilt. A low snarl ripped from his throat as he pulsed inside the clenching heat, marking his father a second time. He collapsed forward, his weight crushing Eijiro into the mattress, their sweat-slick skin sticking together.

Tesutesu stayed buried inside the clenching heat for a long moment, his lips pressed to the sweat-damp skin of his father’s shoulder. “Such a good daddy,” he whispered, the words hot and rough against Eijiro’s ear. “Taking my cock like a needy little bitch. Your hole’s perfect for me.”

He pulled out slowly, a deliberate, slick drag that made Eijiro gasp. Tesutesu sat back on his haunches, his black eyes fixed between his father’s splayed thighs. He watched his own cum, thick and white, begin to leak from Eijiro’s stretched, gaping cunt. It dripped onto the ruined sheets. A possessive, satisfied heat curled in Tesutesu’s gut.

Eijiro’s hand moved immediately, his big fingers sliding through the mess. He rubbed his own swollen, cherry-red clit in slow, tight circles. A shuddering sigh escaped him. “Shit, baby,” he mumbled, his voice wrecked and drowsy. “Now I’m all worked up again. You got me all horny.”

“You’re always horny.” Tesutesu reached out, smearing the leaking cum back into his father’s hole with two fingers. He pushed them in shallowly, feeling the hot, tender flesh flutter around him. “You’re just a greedy pussy, Daddy. Can’t get enough.”

“Your greedy pussy,” Eijiro corrected, his hips lifting into the touch. His red eyes were half-lidded, glazed with a contentment that ran bone-deep. He said it with such simple, sincerity it made Tesutesu’s chest feel tight.

Tesutesu leaned down, capturing his father’s mouth in a biting, messy kiss. He could taste sleep and salt and themselves. “Gonna be late,” he murmured against Eijiro’s lips, even as his own hand wrapped around his thickening cock again.

Eijiro’s hand closed around his son’s wrist, stopping him. “Shower,” he rasped, his voice still raw from screaming. “We can… in the shower. Two birds.”

Tesutesu looked down at him, his black eyes gleaming. He ran a thumb over the fresh bite mark on his father’s shoulder. “Bargaining, Daddy?”

“Being efficient,” Eijiro corrected, a tired, crooked smile on his face. He pushed at Tesutesu’s chest. “Come on. We’re sticky. And we’re gonna be late.”

Tesutesu let himself be pushed back, rising off the bed. He pulled Eijiro up with him, their bodies separating with a slick, wet sound. He kept a firm grip on his father’s hand, leading him the short distance to the attached bathroom. The tile was cool under their feet.

He turned the shower on hard, steam billowing fast in the small room. He pushed Eijiro under the spray first. The hot water hit Eijiro’s back and he groaned, his head dropping forward, his broad shoulders softening. Tesutesu watched the water sluice through his red hair, down the muscular planes of his back, over the marks he’d left.

“See?” Eijiro mumbled, turning his face into the spray. “Efficient.”

Tesutesu stepped in behind him, crowding him against the wall. The water was scorching. He wrapped an arm around Eijiro’s waist, pulling him back against his chest. His other hand slid between his father’s thighs from behind. “Efficient,” he agreed, his voice a low growl in Eijiro’s ear. His fingers found Eijiro’s swollen, sensitive clit, already hard again. “But we’re not just washing.”

Eijiro’s breath hitched. He braced his hands on the slick tile. “Tets…”

“You said your pussy was always free use.” Tesutesu rubbed slow, firm circles, feeling his father shudder against him. “You meant it, right?”

"Yes," Eijiro moaned, the word lost in the steam and the sound of the water. He pushed back against Tesutesu's hand, his hips rocking into the pressure. "Anytime, baby. Anywhere. I don't care who sees. Just need your huge cock fucking my cunt. All the time."

Tesutesu’s breath hitched, a sharp, possessive sound. His fingers slipped lower, pressing at Eijiro’s entrance, still loose and slick from being fucked twice. He pushed two inside, a tight, burning stretch that made Eijiro cry out. "Say it again."

"It’s yours," Eijiro gasped, his forehead dropping to the cool tile. The water pounded his shoulders. "My cunt is yours. Fuck it in the kitchen. Fuck it in the car. I don’t care, Tets. Just give it to me."

Tesutesu curled his fingers, searching, and found the rough spot inside that made his father’s knees buckle. Eijiro shouted, his whole body jolting. "There—fuck, right there—"

"Greedy," Tesutesu growled, but he was already pulling his fingers free. He spun Eijiro around, pinning him face-first against the wall. The tile was cold and smooth under Eijiro’s cheek. Tesutesu’s thick cock, fully hard again, slid between his father’s soap-slick thighs, nudging against his swollen pussy from behind. "You want it right now? Here?"

"Yes," Eijiro begged, his voice broken and earnest. He reached back, grabbing Tesutesu’s hip, trying to guide him inside. "Please, baby. Need it."

Tesutesu lined himself up, the broad head catching at Eijiro’s entrance. He didn’t push in. He just held there, making his father feel the pressure, the almost. "What are you?"

Eijiro shuddered, a full-body tremor of need. "Yours," he whispered. "Daddy’s your greedy pussy. Your good pussy boy."

Tesutesu drove into him in one brutal, sinking thrust. The force knocked the air from Eijiro’s lungs in a wet, choked sound. The water cascaded over them, mixing with the sweat and spit and the slick, wet noise of Tesutesu fucking into him, deep and unforgiving.

"Harder," Eijiro rasped, his hands splayed against the wall for purchase. Each slam drove his chest into the tile. "Mark me up, baby. Let everyone know."

Tesutesu’s hands gripped his father’s hips, his fingers digging into the muscle. His pace was relentless, a pounding rhythm that echoed in the small, steamy enclosure. He leaned forward, his teeth finding the junction of Eijiro’s neck and shoulder. He bit down, not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to brand. Eijiro sobbed, his body clenching tight around the thick cock splitting him open.

"Gonna come," Tesutesu grunted, the words hot against the bite mark. His rhythm stuttered, turning ragged, desperate. "Gonna fill you again. Make a mess of you."

"Do it," Eijiro pleaded, his own release coiling tight in his gut. He was so sensitive he felt every ridge, every vein. "Fill your daddy up. Make it stick."

Tesutesu came with a shuddering groan, his hips locking as he pulsed deep inside. Eijiro followed him over the edge, his cunt milking the thick cock in frantic, fluttering pulses as he squirted against the shower wall, the clear fluid mixing with the spray. Tesutesu held him through it, his body a solid, possessive weight.

They stayed like that for a long minute, panting in the steam. Tesutesu finally pulled out, and Eijiro slumped against the wall, boneless and spent. Tesutesu turned him gently, his black eyes scanning his father’s face. He swiped a thumb over Eijiro’s bruised lips. "We’re late," he said, his voice rough.

Eijiro’s red eyes were soft, dazed. A slow, tired smile spread across his face. "Worth it," he mumbled. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to Tesutesu’s sternum. "Always worth it for my baby boy."