The ship’s corridor was silent, the hour deep into the black of a sea night. Katsuki stood in the doorway of the suite he was supposed to share with his wife, a glass of water in hand, staring at the empty bed. Inko had retired to her own room hours ago, claiming a headache from the sun. The lie was thin, and they both knew it. The space between them had become a physical thing.
“He’s waiting for you, you know.”
The voice came from behind him. Eijiro. He leaned against the wall opposite, still in his dinner clothes, his face etched with a fatigue that had nothing to do with sleep.
Katsuki didn’t turn. “Where?”
“Our room. They’re both there.” Eijiro’s voice was a low scrape. “Denki told me. Said it was time we… stopped pretending to be in separate movies.”
“Fuck.” Katsuki drained the water, the cold doing nothing to douse the heat in his gut. The memory of the pool deck—Izuku under him, around him, the public shudder of release—flooded back, bright and shameful. “This is insane.”
“Yeah,” Eijiro agreed, but he was already pushing off the wall. “You coming?”
They walked the short distance without another word. The door to Eijiro’s cabin was unlocked. Inside, the main lights were off, only the dim bedside lamps glowing.
The dim light caught on black lace and sheer violet silk. Izuku lounged against the headboard, wearing a corset that cinched his waist and framed his small chest, the freckles on his shoulders dusted like gold. Denki was curled at the foot of the bed in a matching chemise, the fabric sheer enough to show the dark shadow of his nipples, his blonde hair messy against the duvet.
“Took you long enough,” Izuku said, his voice a low hum. He didn’t smile. His green eyes tracked Katsuki’s every shift in the doorway.
Denki grinned, stretching like a cat. “We were starting to think you guys chickened out.”
Eijiro let out a slow breath behind Katsuki. “This is a bad idea.”
“Probably,” Izuku agreed, not looking away from Katsuki. “But you’re here.”
Katsuki’s mouth was dry. The lingerie wasn’t for seduction—it was a declaration. A uniform. He stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind them, sealing them in the low thrum of the ship’s engine. The room smelled of salt, clean linen, and beneath it, the sweet, sharp scent of anticipation.
“So,” Denki said, rolling onto his stomach, chin in his hands. “We figured it was stupid, pretending. You two are fucking us. We’re fucking you. Everybody knows. Seems cleaner if we just… all know together.”
Eijiro ran a hand through his spiky red hair. “Clean isn’t the word I’d use.”
“What word would you use, Eijiro?” Denki’s tone was playful, but his yellow eyes were sharp.
“Complicated.”
Izuku finally moved, shifting to the edge of the bed. The corset creaked softly. He stood, barefoot on the cool floor, and took two steps until he was inches from Katsuki. The top of his head barely reached Katsuki’s chin. “It’s only complicated if you think about it. Stop thinking.”
Katsuki’s jaw tightened. He could see the rapid flutter of Izuku’s pulse in his throat, the sheen of sweat on his collarbone. “You planned this.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to watch,” Izuku whispered, his breath warm against Katsuki’s jaw. “I want to see you with him. I want to see you look at someone else and still know you’re mine.”
Katsuki’s cock throbbed, heavy and insistent against his slacks. The honesty was more disarming than any lie.
Denki padded over to Eijiro, his hand resting lightly on the older man’s tense forearm. “You’re so wound up. We can just talk. Or we can not talk.” His fingers traced the seam of Eijiro’s sleeve. “Your call, Daddy.”
Eijiro flinched at the name, his red eyes darting to Katsuki, a silent plea for an anchor that wasn’t there. Katsuki was staring at Izuku, caught in that emerald gaze.
“Talk,” Eijiro said, his voice rough. “What is this, really?”
Izuku finally broke his stare, looking past Katsuki to Eijiro. “It’s the rest of the cruise. It’s after the cruise. It’s you and him, tied to us. No more hiding in stairwells or pretending you’re just friends on a trip. We’re in this. All four of us. So let’s get comfortable with it.”
He reached out, his fingers brushing the fly of Katsuki’s trousers. The touch was light, a ghost of pressure over the thick outline of his cock. Katsuki didn’t move. Couldn’t.
“See?” Izuku murmured, his eyes back on Katsuki’s face. “He’s already comfortable.”
Denki laughed, soft and bright. He leaned into Eijiro’s side, his head on the man’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. We all do.” His hand slid down, palming Eijiro through his pants, feeling the hard swell there. “And you want to. You really, really want to.”
Eijiro’s resistance crumbled with a shuddering exhale. He turned his head, burying his face in Denki’s fluffy hair, his large hands coming up to grip Denki’s hips.
Izuku smiled, a real one this time, all teeth and victory. He undid the first button of Katsuki’s slacks. The sound was obscenely loud in the quiet room. “Let’s get you out of this, Daddy.”
Izuku’s fingers worked the rest of the buttons, and Katsuki’s slacks pooled at his ankles. The cool air hit his heated skin, his cock springing free, thick and already leaking against his stomach. Izuku didn’t hesitate. He sank to his knees on the carpet, the corset digging into his ribs, and took the head into his mouth with a soft, wet sound.
Across the room, Denki mirrored the motion, his hands on Eijiro’s belt. “My turn, Daddy,” he whispered, and Eijiro’s head fell back with a choked groan as Denki swallowed him down.
The dual sensation was overwhelming—the hot, tight suction of Izuku’s mouth, and the obscene, wet noise of Denki gagging on Eijiro’s cock. Katsuki’s hand flew to Izuku’s hair, tangling in the green curls, holding on as his hips jerked forward of their own volition.
“Fuck,” Katsuki breathed, looking down. Izuku’s eyes were open, green and burning up at him, tears already gathering at the corners as he forced himself deeper, his throat working around the thick intrusion. The gagging sound was raw, visceral, and it made Katsuki’s balls draw up tight.
“You like that?” Izuku pulled off, gasping, a string of saliva connecting his swollen lips to Katsuki’s glistening head. “You like watching me choke on it?”
Before Katsuki could answer, Izuku dove back down, taking him deeper, his nose pressing into the coarse blond hair at the base. Katsuki’s thighs trembled. He could feel the convulsive clench of Izuku’s throat, the desperate struggle for air, and it was the hottest thing he’d ever felt.
“Shit, Denki—easy,” Eijiro grunted, his own hands clenched in the blonde hair. Denki pulled off, coughing, a slick of pre-come on his chin.
“You don’t mean that,” Denki gasped, grinning wildly. He swiped his thumb through the wetness on his lips. “You love it. You wanna fuck my throat raw. I can feel it.” He went back down, his pace frantic, the sloppy, choking sounds filling the room alongside the ship’s hum.
Izuku pulled off again, panting, his face flushed a deep red. “Look at them,” he rasped, his voice wrecked. He turned Katsuki’s head, forcing his gaze across the room to where Eijiro was fucking up into Denki’s mouth, his professional composure shattered into pure, desperate hunger. “See? He’s just like you. A hungry animal in a suit.”
Katsuki’s breath hitched. The sight was debauched—Eijiro, his best man, his partner, coming completely undone. It stripped away his last pretense of being the only one fallen. Izuku took advantage of his distraction, swallowing him to the root again, and Katsuki saw stars, his grip turning brutal in Izuku’s hair.
“That’s it,” Izuku gagged, pulling back just enough to speak, his lips bruised and wet. “Use me. I’m yours. Let him see whose you are.”
Katsuki’s control snapped. He began to move, short, shallow thrusts into that searing heat, guided by the choked sounds Izuku made with every push. His eyes locked with Eijiro’s across the room—a silent, shameful recognition passing between them as they both fucked into the willing, choking mouths of the boys who had ruined them.
“Enough,” Izuku gasped, pulling off Katsuki with a wet pop. He stood on shaky legs, his hands leaving bruises on Katsuki’s hips. “Bed. Now.”
He didn’t wait, turning and crawling onto the mattress, the corset digging into his back as he laid down and let his head hang over the edge, his green curls beautifully hanging. He opened his mouth, wide, his tongue out, his eyes burning up at Katsuki from the inverted angle. Across the room, Denki mirrored the move, scrambling onto the bed beside Izuku, his head dangling next to his friend’s, his mouth open in a silent, waiting gasp.
“Fuck me,” Denki whispered, his voice strained from use, his yellow eyes fixed on Eijiro. “Fuck my throat, Daddy. Don’t be gentle.”
Katsuki looked at Izuku, at the exposed line of his throat, the vulnerable pulse fluttering there. He saw the challenge, the invitation, the complete surrender. His cock throbbed, painfully hard. He moved, positioning himself at the edge of the bed, his hands gripping Izuku’s head, and pushed the head past those swollen lips.
Izuku’s throat opened for him, a searing, tight heat. Katsuki didn’t start slow. He thrust in, deep, burying himself to the root in one brutal push. Izuku’s body jerked, a muffled gagging sound vibrating around his cock.
Beside them, Eijiro let out a broken sound and fed his cock into Denki’s waiting mouth, his thrusts just as ruthless from the start. The room filled with the raw, wet sounds of choking, of strain, of skin slapping against faces.
Katsuki set a brutal pace, fucking up into that tight, convulsing heat, his balls slapping against Izuku’s forehead with every drive. He looked down, watching his own cock disappear into the red, stretched ring of Izuku’s lips, seeing the tears stream from the corners of those green eyes and disappear into the green hair on the floor. “You wanted this,” Katsuki growled, his voice rough. “You fucking asked for it.”
Izuku couldn’t speak. He could only gag, his hands flying up to clutch at Katsuki’s trembling thighs, his nails digging in. Every choked sound, every desperate twitch of his body, was a yes.
“Look at him, Eijiro,” Denki managed to rasp around the cock fucking his throat, his own tears mixing with saliva. “Look at them. We did this.”
Eijiro’s gaze, dark with shame and hunger, met Katsuki’s over the straining bodies of their boys. They were both sweating, their shirts clinging, their professional façades obliterated. They were just animals now, fucking into the wet, willing mouths of the creatures who had ruined them, and they couldn’t stop.
Katsuki watched his cock disappear into the stretched, red ring of Izuku’s lips with every brutal thrust, the wet gagging sounds a steady rhythm under the ship’s hum. Izuku’s throat bulged obscenely around the girth, his Adam’s apple working futilely against the intrusion. Katsuki’s low-hanging, heavy balls slapped against Izuku’s forehead with a damp, rhythmic smack.
Beside them, the same wet, slapping noise echoed as Eijiro fucked up into Denki’s throat. “Look at that,” Eijiro grunted, his voice shattered. “Look at his neck.”
Denki’s throat distended with every drive, the outline of Eijiro’s cock visible beneath his pale skin. Tears and saliva slicked his chin. He managed a choked, gurgling sound that might have been a laugh.
“You like watching your cock distort my throat, Daddy?” Izuku rasped the moment Katsuki pulled back for a shallow breath. His voice was wrecked, raw. “You like seeing what you do to me?”
“Shut up,” Katsuki growled, driving back in deep, cutting off the words with a wet choke. He braced himself, hands gripping the edge of the mattress, and set a punishing, piston-like rhythm. His world narrowed to the seizing heat of Izuku’s throat, the slap of flesh, the broken sounds.
“Eyes on me, Kacchan,” Izuku gagged, his green eyes blazing up from his inverted position, pleading and commanding at once. “Don’t you dare look away.”
Katsuki couldn’t. He was mesmerized by the tears carving paths through the freckles on Izuku’s temples, by the violent, beautiful ruin of him. His own release coiled tight, a burning pressure at the base of his spine.
“Gonna come,” Eijiro choked out, his thrusts turning erratic, sloppy. “Denki, I’m—”
Denki’s hands flew up, clamping around Eijiro’s thighs, holding him deep. He took it, his throat fluttering wildly around the final, brutal pushes, a muffled, continuous gagging sound his only protest.
Izuku saw Eijiro’s climax in the man’s shattered expression. He pulled his mouth off Katsuki with a wet, ragged gasp. “Do it,” he demanded, his voice a shredded whisper. “Come in my throat. Claim it. Let him watch you ruin me.”
The command shattered Katsuki’s last thread of control. With a raw shout that was half curse, half surrender, he slammed home and held, his body bowing as his cock pulsed violently down Izuku’s constricting throat. He felt every hot, desperate jet, felt Izuku’s body convulse beneath him, trying to swallow it all.
He finally pulled out, stumbling back, his spent cock slick and glistening. Izuku coughed, a rough, wet sound, but his inverted grin was triumphant. Milky spend dripped from the corner of his swollen mouth.
Eijiro slumped forward, his forehead resting on Denki’s thigh, his own release spent. The room was silent except for the ragged breathing of four men and the relentless, low thrum of the ship cutting through the dark sea.
Izuku pushed himself up, his body trembling from the throat-fucking, his corset digging into his ribs. He crawled back onto the center of the bed, Denki moving with him in sync. They faced their older lovers, their eyes wide and dark with intent. Without a word, they both lay back against the pillows, spreading their legs wide, a mirror image of lewd invitation.
Izuku hooked his hands behind his knees, pulling them up and apart, exposing himself completely. The shaved, glistening flesh of his pussy was swollen and flushed a deep pink, his entrance visibly clenching around nothing, dripping onto the sheets. “Come on, Daddy,” he breathed, his wrecked voice raw with need. “Fuck your filthy stepson. I’m soaked for you. It’s all for you.”
Beside him, Denki mirrored the pose, his own cunt gleaming under the cabin lights. “Yeah, Eijiro,” he purred, his fingers spreading his lower lips, showing the slick, dark pink inside. “Quit thinking. Just fuck. We’re just sluts. Your sluts.”
Katsuki stood frozen, his spent cock already twitching back to life at the obscene sight. Izuku, spread open like a feast, the proof of his arousal pooling beneath him. The corset, the tears on his freckles, the defiant, hungry gleam in his eyes. It was a punch to the gut.
“You’re not…” Katsuki started, the lawyer in him trying to form a protest that died in his throat.
“I am,” Izuku cut in, his voice dropping, serious. “I’m your slut, Kacchan. I have been since you walked into our living room. Now prove you’re mine.”
Eijiro made a broken sound, his gaze locked on Denki’s displayed cunt. “This is wrong,” he muttered, but he was moving toward the bed.
“It feels too good to be wrong,” Denki sang softly, his hips making a slow, circular grind into the air. “Come on, Daddy. Be wrong with me.”
Katsuki’s glasses were slightly askew. He didn’t fix them. He climbed onto the bed, his weight causing Izuku to sink deeper into the mattress. He knelt between Izuku’s spread thighs, the sight of that dripping pussy so close making his mouth water. He could smell Izuku—salt, musk, pure heat. His hands settled on Izuku’s inner thighs, feeling the muscle tremble under his palms.
“Look at me,” Izuku whispered.
Katsuki did. He saw the victory, the vulnerability, the unbearable trust. He positioned the thick, ruddy head of his cock at Izuku’s entrance, feeling the searing wet heat against his sensitive slit. He paused, the moment stretching, the only sound their ragged breathing and Denki’s soft, encouraging whispers to Eijiro beside them.
“Please,” Izuku begged, the word shattering the last of Katsuki’s pretense. “Please, Daddy. I need it.”
Katsuki pushed forward, a low groan tearing from his chest at the exquisite, tight heat that enveloped him. Izuku’s body yielded to the invasion, stretching beautifully around his girth, a wet, sucking sound marking his entrance. He sank in, inch by devastating inch, until his hips met Izuku’s, his balls resting against the damp curve of Izuku’s ass.
Izuku’s head fell back, a choked cry escaping his bruised lips. His back arched, pressing his small, bound tits toward the ceiling. “Fuck,” he sobbed, his nails digging into his own thighs. “You’re so big. You fill me up so perfect.”
Beside them, the bed rocked as Eijiro finally sheathed himself inside Denki with a guttural moan. “Oh, god,” Eijiro choked out, his face buried in Denki’s neck.
“Yeah, god,” Denki gasped, his legs locking around Eijiro’s waist. “Right there. Don’t stop.”
Katsuki stayed buried to the root, letting Izuku adjust, feeling the frantic flutters and clenches around his cock. He dropped his forehead against Izuku’s, their breath mingling. “This is what you wanted,” he murmured, his voice thick.
“Everything,” Izuku panted, his green eyes blazing. “I wanted everything. Now give it to me.”
“Then take it,” Katsuki snarled, and he drew back and slammed home, setting a brutal, punishing pace from the first thrust. The wet, slapping noise of their joining filled the cabin, a counter-rhythm to the identical sound from the other side of the bed. He fucked into Izuku with a focused, ruthless intensity, each drive punching a choked cry from the boy’s bruised lips.
“Yeah! Just like that, you fucking animal!” Izuku screamed, his back arching off the mattress, his nails raking down Katsuki’s sweat-slick forearms. “Ruin me! Tear me apart!”
Beside them, Eijiro’s grunts were low and guttural, a steady stream of filth tumbling from his mouth. “Such a greedy little cunt, taking all of me. Made for this, weren’t you? Just a dumb, pretty hole.”
Denki keened, his head thrashing side to side on the pillow. “Yes! I’m your dumb hole, Daddy! Fill your dumb hole!”
Katsuki’s glasses slipped down his nose, fogging at the edges. He didn’t stop. He pistoned into the searing, clenching heat, his world narrowing to the obscene sight of his cock glistening with Izuku’s wetness, plunging into that dripping, pink flesh. “You wanted a wedding night,” he gritted out, his voice ragged with exertion. “This is it. This is all you get.”
“It’s all I want!” Izuku sobbed, his body jolting with every impact. His eyes were wild, unfocused with pleasure. “Fuck your wife’s son! Make me yours!”
The declaration, raw and shameless, sent a new bolt of heat straight to Katsuki’s core. He leaned down, capturing Izuku’s mouth in a biting, sloppy kiss, swallowing his cries. He could taste himself on Izuku’s tongue.
“Close,” Eijiro growled, his thrusts turning frantic, the bedframe knocking against the wall. “Denki, I’m gonna—”
“Do it! Breed me!” Denki shrieked, his legs locking like a vise around Eijiro’s waist. His whole body tensed, and a sudden gush of warm liquid soaked the space between them. He screamed, his cunt fluttering wildly around Eijiro’s cock.
The sound of Denki’s squirting orgasm tipped Eijiro over the edge. With a roar that was pure release, he buried himself to the hilt and held, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself deep inside the trembling boy.
The violent rhythm beside him, the smell of sex and sweat and spent release, pushed Katsuki to his own precipice. He broke the kiss, forehead resting against Izuku’s, their panting breaths mingling. “You gonna squirt for me, you little slut?”
“Only for you, Daddy,” Izuku whimpered, his body tightening, coiling. “Only ever for you.”
Katsuki reached between them, his thumb finding Izuku’s swollen clit. He pressed hard, circling roughly, and Izuku shattered. A broken wail tore from his throat as his cunt clenched in a series of frantic, milking spasms around Katsuki’s thrusting cock, a hot rush of fluid soaking both their thighs and the sheets beneath.
The intense, rhythmic squeezing was too much. Katsuki’s control snapped. With a final, deep plunge, he stilled, his own orgasm racking through him in hot, pulsing waves, spilling deep into Izuku’s grasping heat. He collapsed forward, his weight pressing Izuku into the mattress, his face buried in the sweaty crook of the boy’s neck.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of four men gasping for air, the air thick with the scent of their joining. Slowly, Katsuki softened and slipped out, followed by a trickle of their combined release. Izuku’s arms came up, wrapping around his back, holding him there.
“Mine,” Izuku whispered into his ear, voice hoarse but utterly certain.
Katsuki didn’t have the strength to argue. He just nodded, the movement slight against Izuku’s damp skin. He was, and they both knew it.
A soft, airy giggle broke the heavy silence. Denki stretched his arms above his head, making the bed shift. “Wow. We really all came at the same time, huh? That’s, like, synchronized swimming levels of teamwork.”
Eijiro, still slumped over him, let out a shuddering breath. He didn’t lift his head from Denki’s neck. “Shut up.”
“Why? It was hot,” Denki chirped, his fingers idly combing through Eijiro’s spiky red hair. “Four big, powerful orgasms, bang, bang, bang, bang. The room practically shook.”
Katsuki felt the truth of it in his bones—a deep, satisfying ache, and a heavier, colder one beneath. He finally pushed himself up on trembling arms, dislodging Izuku’s hold. He looked down at the mess between Izuku’s thighs, at his own softening cock, glistening and spent. The evidence was obscene.
Izuku’s green eyes tracked his every move, hazy with satisfaction. “You okay, Daddy?”
Katsuki gave him that simple nod, then lowered his mouth to Izuku’s, kissing him slowly, deeply. It was nothing like the biting, desperate kisses from before. This was soft, languid, an exploration of the taste of salt and sweat and surrender.
Izuku sighed into it, his fingers coming up to card through Katsuki’s damp hair, keeping him close. When they finally parted, Izuku’s green eyes were dark, unguarded. “Hey,” he whispered.
“Hey,” Katsuki murmured back, the word rough with disuse.
On the other side of the bed, Eijiro had finally lifted his head from Denki’s neck. He looked dazed, his red eyes glassy. Denki beamed up at him, reaching to brush a stray tear from Eijiro’s cheekbone. “You cried a little,” Denki said, his voice soft with wonder, not mockery.
Eijiro blinked, as if realizing it himself. He swiped at his face with the back of his hand. “Shit.”
“Don’t,” Denki said, catching his wrist. He brought Eijiro’s hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to his scarred knuckles. “It was beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
Eijiro’s throat worked. He didn’t pull away. He just stared down at the boy beneath him, his expression a wreck of confusion and awe. “What are we doing, Denki?”
“Falling,” Denki answered simply, his yellow eyes clear and bright. He tugged, and Eijiro let himself be pulled down into another kiss, this one tender and slow.
Katsuki watched them for a moment before shifting, rolling to his side and pulling Izuku with him. Izuku came willingly, curling into Katsuki’s chest, his back to Katsuki’s front. Katsuki draped an arm over Izuku’s waist, his hand splaying possessively over the flat plane of his stomach. He could feel the rapid flutter of Izuku’s heartbeat against his palm.
“You’re shaking,” Katsuki observed, his voice a low rumble against Izuku’s ear.
“Adrenaline crash,” Izuku whispered, pressing back into the solid heat of him. “Plus, you know. Life-altering decisions.”
Katsuki huffed a quiet, humorless laugh. His fingers traced idle patterns on Izuku’s skin. “No take-backs, right?”
“No take-backs,” Izuku confirmed, his voice firm. He tangled their legs together. “This is it now. The four of us.”
Across the bed, Denki was now tucked under Eijiro’s arm, his head on Eijiro’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. “So,” Denki said into the quiet. “We’re, like… a thing. A secret, sexy quadrangle.”
Katsuki made a face. “Hell no, we’re not all together.” He grunted, pushing himself up from the tangle of limbs. He gripped Izuku’s wrist, pulling him from the mess of damp sheets on the first bed.
Izuku came easily, a soft, knowing smile on his lips as Katsuki led him to the second, untouched bed across the cabin. Katsuki yanked the duvet back with a sharp motion, then turned to Izuku. His hands went to the scraps of lace still clinging to Izuku’s hips, ripping the ruined lingerie away and tossing it to the floor. He did the same with his own shirt, kicked them aside, and then pulled Izuku down onto the cool, clean sheets.
He drew the blanket over them, tucking it around Izuku’s shoulders before wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him flush against his chest. The air conditioning raised goosebumps on their damp skin. Izuku sighed, melting into the hold, his backside snug against Katsuki’s groin.
“Aw, c’mon,” Denki pouted from the other bed, watching them. He was still tucked under Eijiro’s arm. “We just shared a profoundly intimate group experience. We’re bonding.”
“We’re not a fucking club,” Katsuki muttered, his nose buried in Izuku’s curls. He inhaled deeply—salt, sex, and the specific green-apple scent of Izuku’s shampoo.
“Babe, Kats and me don’t have that kind of friendship.” Eijiro’s voice was rough, muffled against Denki’s hair. He shifted, pulling the sheet over their hips. “Not like you and Izuku.”
Denki lifted his head from Eijiro’s chest, his yellow eyes wide and confused. “You two have never fucked?”
From the other bed came two voices, sharp and simultaneous. “NO!”
Katsuki’s denial was a bark. Eijiro’s was more of a horrified squeak. They looked at each other across the dim space between the beds, a shared moment of pure, visceral disgust.
Izuku snorted, the vibration moving through his back where it was pressed to Katsuki’s chest. “Oh my god. Your faces.” He craned his neck to look up at Katsuki. “You look like you just bit into a lemon.”
“Shut it,” Katsuki grumbled, his arm tightening around Izuku’s waist.
“But why not?” Denki pressed, sitting up. The sheet pooled in his lap. “You’re best friends. You’re both, like, super hot. You’re lawyers—that’s basically foreplay.”
Eijiro dragged a hand down his face. “It’s not… it doesn’t work like that. We’re brothers. That would be…” He shuddered, the motion genuine. “Wrong.”
Katsuki pressed his lips to Izuku's temple, a hard, grounding kiss, and tightened his arm around his waist. "Go to sleep, brat," he muttered, his voice gravelly with exhaustion.
Izuku hummed, wiggling his backside against Katsuki's groin. "You're not even a little curious?" he whispered, the words a warm puff against the pillow.
"About fucking Ei? I'd rather chew glass."
From the other bed, Eijiro made a sound of pure agreement. "Seconded."
Denki sighed, a dramatic, wistful thing. He rolled onto his stomach, propping his chin on his hands, the sheet slipping down to reveal the smooth curve of his back. "You guys have no vision. It's not about you two going at it. It's about… sharing. Amplifying." His yellow eyes gleamed in the low light. "Imagine it. Me and Zuku. Our mouths. Our hands. All over both of you. At the same time."
The cabin air, already thick, seemed to get heavier. Katsuki felt Izuku’s breathing hitch slightly against him.
Eijiro was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was strained. "Denki."
"What? It's just a thought." Denki kicked his feet idly in the air. "We're already here. We already crossed every line there is. Your wife is sleeping down the hall, my best friend’s mom. My best friend is in bed with your best friend. We just came in sync, for god's sake. What's one more line?"
Katsuki’s hand, which had been resting on Izuku's stomach, drifted lower, his fingertips brushing the smooth skin at the base of Izuku's belly. He felt the muscles there jump. "You're a dangerous little shit," Katsuki said, but there was no heat in it. Only a tired kind of awe.
"I'm practical," Denki corrected. He looked at Eijiro, whose red eyes were wide in the dark. "You liked it, Ei. When we were all together. Admit it."
Eijiro’s throat moved as he swallowed. He didn't deny it. He just stared at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling steadily. "It felt…"
"Complete?" Izuku offered, his voice soft. He turned his head on the pillow, his green eyes finding Katsuki's in the shadows.
Katsuki held that gaze. He saw the hunger there, not sated, just banked. Waiting. His own body, spent minutes ago, gave a traitorous thrum of interest. The idea unfolded in his mind, unwanted and vivid: Izuku’s mouth on him, Denki’s on Eijiro, then switching. Their slick, eager bodies moving between them. No hiding. No separation. One ruinous, shared truth.
"We're not deciding anything now," Katsuki said, his voice final. He pulled Izuku closer, until not a sliver of air remained between them. "Sleep."
Denki smiled, a slow, satisfied curve of his lips. He didn't push. He just rolled over and tucked himself back against Eijiro's side, whispering something that made Eijiro's eyes slip shut with a pained expression. The suggestion hung in the cool, salt-tinged air, a promise and a threat, as the ship carried them further into the dark.