The remaining days of camp dissolve into a single, sweat-slicked, sun-drenched fever dream.
Eijiro’s complicit presence is the key that unlocks the entire world for them. The “food poisoning” that keeps Coach Kacchan and his sick son quarantined in their cabin is a perfect, unchallenged lie. For everyone else, camp continues. Drills, team-building, early bedtimes. For Katsuki and Izuku, it is a marathon of hunger.
“Again,” Izuku whispers into the dark of their cabin on the second day, his body still trembling from the last time. His hand finds Katsuki’s hip under the sheet. “Daddy, please.”
Katsuki’s eyes are heavy-lidded, satiated, but the demand in that soft voice is a spark to tinder. “You’re insatiable.”
“You made me this way.”
He’s right. Katsuki rolls over, his massive frame covering Izuku’s smaller one, and doesn’t bother with preamble. He’s already hard. He’s been hard for days. He pushes inside the wet, welcoming heat of his son, and Izuku’s back arches off the mattress with a choked-off cry.
They lose track of time. Of meals. Of everything but the next touch, the next gasp, the next reckless idea.
The lake is their first venture outside.
It’s midday, the squad far off on the obstacle course. The water is cold, shocking against their overheated skin. Izuku shrieks when Katsuki pulls him into the deeper part, his green curls plastered to his forehead.
“They could come back any minute,” Izuku pants, but he’s already wrapping his legs around Katsuki’s waist underwater, his arms locked around his neck.
“Then be quiet,” Katsuki growls, his hands finding the curve of Izuku’s ass under the water. He’s already positioned, the head of his cock nudging against Izuku’s soaked entrance. The cold makes Izuku’s skin pebble, his nipples tight, dark peaks against the pale freckled skin of his chest.
The slide inside is a slow, breathtaking burn. The water buoys them, lets Katsuki thrust with a deep, relentless rhythm. Izuku buries his face in Katsuki’s neck to muffle his sounds, each one a hot puff of air against his skin.
“Daddy… they’ll see the water moving…”
“Let them see.”
He punctuates the words with a harder thrust, and Izuku’s body clenches around him, triggering his own climax. Heat spills into the cool water. Izuku follows, his body seizing, a silent scream against Katsuki’s shoulder.
They float there for a minute, joined, panting. The risk hangs in the air, sharper than the cold water.
That night, it’s the dock.
The wood is rough against Izuku’s knees. Katsuki stands over him, a dark silhouette against the star-dusted sky. The sounds of the forest are loud around them—crickets, frogs, the lap of water.
“Do it,” Katsuki says, his voice low. His hand is fisted in Izuku’s curls, guiding him. “All of it.”
Izuku takes him into his mouth, the thick weight familiar and beloved. He works with a desperate, worshipful hunger, saliva and pre-come slicking his chin. The dock creaks with every movement.
A beam of light slices through the trees from a cabin up the hill. A flashlight. Someone’s coming back from the latrine.
Katsuki doesn’t stop him. He holds Izuku’s head firmly, hips moving in shallow thrusts. “Don’t you dare stop,” he breathes.
The light bobs closer. Izuku moans around him, the vibration making Katsuki’s thighs tense. The light passes maybe thirty yards away, illuminates the path, and then swings away, disappearing into another cabin.
Katsuki comes down his throat with a stifled groan, and Izuku swallows every drop, his own body shaking with unmet need.
“My turn,” Izuku whispers, raw-voiced, turning around on the rough planks to present himself on his hands and knees. “Please, Daddy. Now.”
The woods the next afternoon are thick with the smell of pine and damp earth.
They’ve wandered off a hiking trail, just far enough to be shrouded by ferns and broad-leafed trees. Izuku is bent over a fallen log, his cheer shorts around his ankles, his tiny green skirt shoved up around his waist.
“Hurry,” Izuku pleads, looking back over his shoulder, his eyes wide. “I hear voices.”
Katsuki smirks, pushing his own athletic shorts down just enough to free his aching cock. He’s leaking, the tip ruddy and wet. He rubs it through Izuku’s slick folds, making him whimper. “You wanted risky, nerd. This is risky.”
The voices are distant, a group of girls laughing on the trail. They’re getting closer.
Katsuki sheathes himself in one brutal thrust. Izuku slaps a hand over his own mouth to stifle his cry, his other hand white-knuckling the mossy bark. Katsuki sets a punishing pace, each drive forward pushing Izuku against the log. The wet, slapping sound of their joining seems deafening.
“They’re going to hear,” Izuku sobs behind his hand, his body clenching rhythmically, on the edge.
“Then come,” Katsuki grunts, his own release coiling tight in his gut. “Come quiet for me.”
The girls’ voices are right there, just beyond the thicket. One says something about a squirrel. They pause.
Izuku shatters, his body convulsing in silent ecstasy, his cunt milking Katsuki perfectly. It drags Katsuki over with him, spilling deep inside as he muffles his groan against Izuku’s freckled shoulder. They freeze, joined, panting, listening.
The laughter moves on. The footsteps fade.
Izuku goes boneless against the log. “Oh my god.”
Katsuki pulls out, watching his own spend drip down his son’s inner thigh. A primal, possessive satisfaction washes through him. “Told you we wouldn’t get caught.”
But the porch is their greatest gamble.
It’s broad daylight. The squad is supposed to be at the main lodge for a strategy session. Eijiro gave them the all-clear.
Izuku is stretched out on the weathered wooden planks of their cabin’s porch, completely nude. The sun warms his pale skin, highlighting every freckle, every mark Katsuki has left. His small breasts rise and fall with quick breaths, his puffy nipples peaked tight. He’s open, knees bent and spread, one hand lazily stroking his wet cunt.
Katsuki stands over him, fully dressed in his coaching gear, a bottle of water in his hand like he just stepped out for air. The contrast is obscene.
“They could come around the corner,” Katsuki says, his voice casual, but his eyes are burning. He takes a slow drink of water.
“I know,” Izuku breathes, his fingers circling his clit. “Will you fuck me if they do?”
“I’ll fuck you while they watch.”
The promise makes Izuku moan, his hips lifting off the wood. “Do it then. Before they get here.”
Katsuki doesn’t bother undressing. He just unzips his shorts, freeing his hard cock. He drops to his knees between Izuku’s thighs, pushes them wider, and sinks home in one smooth, deep stroke.
Izuku’s head falls back against the porch with a thump, his mouth falling open in a soundless cry. The sun is in his eyes. Anyone walking up the path would see everything: the coach, fully clothed, kneeling between the splayed, naked legs of his son, moving with a slow, relentless rhythm.
Katsuki leans down, bracing himself on one hand, his other hand covering Izuku’s mouth. “You gonna squirt all over this porch, baby?” he murmurs against his ear. “Make a mess for everyone to see?”
Izuku nods frantically under his hand, his green eyes hazy with lust. The sounds he makes are muffled, desperate. Katsuki can feel the telltale flutters, the inner clenching that means Izuku is close.
A door slams in the distance. At the lodge.
It’s the catalyst. Izuku breaks, his body seizing, and a gush of release soaks between them, dripping onto the sun-bleached wood. Katsuki follows, grinding deep as he empties himself with a low, guttural sound.
They stay like that for a long minute, panting, listening. No one comes.
Katsuki pulls out and stands, zipping himself up as if nothing happened. Izuku lies spent on the porch, a debauched painting in the afternoon light.
“Clean yourself up,” Katsuki says, his voice rough. “Eijiro texted. The session’s over early.”
Izuku’s eyes fly open. He scrambles up, grabbing for his clothes just as the first voices of returning cheerleaders filter through the trees.
Later, cleaned and dressed, they sit on the edge of the bed. The adrenaline is a shared hum in their veins.
“Tomorrow’s the last day,” Izuku says quietly, leaning his head on Katsuki’s shoulder.
“Yeah.”
“Back to the real world.”
Katsuki’s jaw tightens. Back to walls and doors and a wife sleeping down the hall. The thought is a cold stone in his gut. This bubble of insane freedom is about to pop.
Izuku looks up at him, his expression serious, needy. “One more time,” he says. “Tonight. One where we don’t have to be quiet at all.”
The cabin is dark when they slip inside, the door clicking shut on the world that ends tomorrow. It smells like them—sex and sweat and the pine cleaner from the camp supply closet. Izuku doesn’t turn on the light. He turns to Katsuki, his back against the door.
“All night,” he says, his voice a low demand in the shadows. “Just like the first time.”
Katsuki steps into him, his big hands finding Izuku’s hips through his shorts. “You were a trembling mess the first time.”
“I’m not trembling now.” Izuku’s hands come up, pulling at the hem of Katsuki’s shirt. “I’m hungry.”
Katsuki lets him strip the shirt off. The moonlight through the window catches the hard planes of his chest, the sweat already gathering there. Izuku’s mouth finds a nipple, biting down, and Katsuki’s breath hitches.
“Fuck, you’re eager.”
“It’s our last night,” Izuku mumbles against his skin, his fingers working open Katsuki’s shorts. “Gonna make you remember me.”
“As if I could forget.” Katsuki yanks Izuku’s shirt over his head, exposing the small, perfect curves of his chest. His thumbs brush over the puffy, dark nipples, and Izuku arches into the touch with a sharp gasp. “Look at you. My little slut.”
They don’t make it to the bed. Katsuki backs him against the small wooden table, clearing it with a sweep of his arm. Water bottles and notebooks crash to the floor. He lifts Izuku, sets him on the edge, and spreads his thighs wide.
Izuku’s shorts and underwear are a tangle around his ankles. The cool air hits his wet cunt, and he shivers, not from cold. “Daddy,” he breathes.
Katsuki drops to his knees. The first touch of his tongue is a flat, hot stripe from his son’s opening to his clit. Izuku’s hands fly into his hair, gripping tight.
“Yes,” Izuku hisses, his hips bucking. “Right there. Don’t stop.”
Katsuki doesn’t. He eats him like a man starved, burying his face in the slick heat, his tongue fucking deep before circling the swollen bud. The sounds are obscene—wet, hungry, raw. Izuku’s thighs tremble against his ears.
“Gonna—Daddy, I’m gonna—”
Katsuki sucks hard, and Izuku comes with a broken cry, his back bowing off the table, his release flooding Katsuki’s mouth. Katsuki drinks it down, doesn’t let up until Izuku is sobbing, pushing weakly at his head.
He stands, his own cock jutting out, thick and dripping. He smears the head through Izuku’s mess, watching his son’s eyes roll back. “That’s one,” Katsuki growls. “How many you think you got in you tonight?”
“As many as you can give me,” Izuku pants, his green eyes glazed. He reaches for him. “Need you inside. Now.”
Katsuki fits his hands under Izuku’s thighs and drags him to the very edge. He pushes in, not slow, not gentle. One deep, claiming stroke that punches the air from Izuku’s lungs.
“God,” Izuku chokes out, his nails digging into Katsuki’s forearms. “Yes. Fuck. Right there.”
Katsuki sets a brutal pace, the table scraping across the floor with every thrust. His eyes never leave Izuku’s face—the parted lips, the fluttering eyelids, the sheer fucking worship there. This is his. His son. His creation. His ruin.
“You love this,” Katsuki grunts, driving deeper. “Love your Daddy’s cock splitting you open.”
“I love it,” Izuku moans, his head thrown back. “I love you. I love—oh, fuck—”
His second climax hits, a gushing, shuddering wave that slicks Katsuki’s thrusts even more. Katsuki feels the milking pull, the desperate clench, and it drags him under. He buries himself to the hilt and spills, a hot, endless rush, his own groan lost against Izuku’s throat.
They stay locked together, panting. Katsuki’s spend leaks out around his softening cock, dripping onto the floor. Izuku’s legs are shaking where they’re hooked around his waist.
“Bed,” Izuku murmurs after a minute, nuzzling into Katsuki’s neck. “We’re not done.”
“No,” Katsuki agrees, his voice rough with pride. “We’re not.”
They stumble to the bed, a tangle of limbs and shared sweat, and collapse onto the rumpled sheets. Izuku immediately rolls, straddling Katsuki’s thighs, his wet cunt grinding against the hard lines of his father’s abs. “My turn,” he breathes, his green eyes dark in the moonlight.
Katsuki’s hands settle on Izuku’s narrow hips, guiding him. “What’s your turn, nerd?”
“Riding you until you can’t think.” Izuku reaches between them, his small hand wrapping around Katsuki’s thick, already-hardening cock. He guides the broad head to his entrance, sighing as he sinks down onto it, inch by slow, stretching inch. “Until all you can think about is me.”
“That’s all I ever think about,” Katsuki grunts, his fingers digging into Izuku’s flesh as he takes him fully, sheathing him inside that tight, scorching heat.
Izuku begins to move, a slow, rolling grind of his hips that makes his tiny tits bounce. He braces his hands on Katsuki’s chest, his head thrown back, a portrait of abandon. “Feel you… so deep,” he moans.
“Look at me,” Katsuki commands, his voice gravel.
Izuku’s eyes snap down, locking with his. The connection is electric, a live wire between them. He increases his pace, lifting and dropping, the wet slap of their joining echoing in the quiet cabin. Katsuki watches, mesmerized, as his son’s puffy nipples harden into tight peaks, begging for his mouth.
He leans up, capturing one between his teeth, biting just shy of pain. Izuku cries out, his rhythm faltering. “Daddy—!”
“You wanted me to remember,” Katsuki growls against his skin, sucking hard. “I’ll remember this. The taste of you. The way you fall apart on my cock.”
“Gonna fall apart again,” Izuku gasps, his movements becoming frantic, desperate. “Please—I need—”
Katsuki flips them suddenly, pinning Izuku beneath his massive frame. He hooks Izuku’s legs over his shoulders, bending him nearly in half, and drives back into him with a force that shakes the bed frame. “Need what? Say it.”
“Need you to fuck a baby into me,” Izuku sobs, his fingers scrambling against the sheets. “Right now. Do it. Breed me, Daddy, please—”
The plea unleashes something feral in Katsuki. His thrusts turn punishing, each one a brutal claim aimed at the deepest part of his son. The headboard smacks the wall in a steady, dangerous rhythm. Izuku screams, a raw, unfiltered sound of ecstasy as another climax seizes him, his cunt gushing around Katsuki’s pounding length.
Katsuki follows him over, his own release ripped from him with a choked roar, his body shuddering as he empties himself deep, claiming, marking, trying to make it permanent. He collapses on top of Izuku, crushing him into the mattress, both of them breathing in ragged, shattered unison.
The night dissolves into a relentless, sweating rhythm. They move from the bed to the floor, from the floor against the wall, a continuous, gasping circuit of possession. Katsuki takes him from behind, his massive hands spanning Izuku’s narrow waist, driving into that slick, clenching heat until Izuku’s cries are hoarse. Izuku rides him on the cold cabin floor, bouncing on his thick cock, his tiny tits jiggling, his head thrown back in silent, open-mouthed ecstasy.
“Daddy,” Izuku slurs, collapsing forward onto Katsuki’s chest after his fourth—or is it fifth?—climax. His body is trembling, oversensitive, used. “Can’t… stop.”
“Who said you could?” Katsuki grunts, rolling them, pinning him again. He’s hard, always hard, his cock leaking and angry between them. He nudges at Izuku’s swollen entrance. “You wanted a marathon, nerd. You’re getting one.”
Izuku’s legs fall open, a surrendered invitation. “Give it to me.”
He sinks in, a slow, brutal re-entry that makes them both groan. This time, the pace is different—deep, grinding rolls of his hips, a deliberate claiming of every inch. He watches Izuku’s face, the freckles stark against his flushed skin, the green eyes glassy with pleasure and exhaustion. “Look at you. Ruined.”
“By you,” Izuku whispers, his hands coming up to frame Katsuki’s jaw. “Only you.”
They kiss, a messy, breathless tangle of tongues. It’s less about passion now and more about affirmation—yes, you’re here, I’m here, this is real. Katsuki fucks him through it, his thrusts turning sharp, desperate. The cabin is filled with the sound: skin on skin, the wet slap of their joining, their ragged breaths.
“Gonna come,” Katsuki warns, his voice a raw scrape.
“Inside,” Izuku begs, his nails scoring down Katsuki’s back. “Fill me up. Make it last.”
Katsuki buries his face in Izuku’s sweaty curls and obeys, his body seizing as he pumps another thick, hot load into his son’s depths. Izuku clenches around him, milking him dry, a low, satisfied moan vibrating against his throat.
They don’t separate. Katsuki stays inside, softening, his weight a welcome anchor. Dawn is a faint gray line at the window. The camp outside is utterly silent.