Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Look at you, dripping all over the place...maybe I should just plug you up, hmm?”

“Ngh - nii-san - “

“Come here, Shouto.”

The trembling makes it hard to move. He tries very hard to get up on his legs and walk over; but his body is weak, the peak of the heat making it nearly impossible to put intention into his reluctant muscles. He’s lucky enough to be lucid at all this time around; other heats were spent in a haze, only the thrust of his brother inside him pulling him into the present until he floated back into a clouded liminal space.

“On your hands and knees, Shouto.”

Fuck, his voice - Shouto can feel another bout of slick dripping down his legs, gushing out with a squelch. He’s so horribly wet.

Slowly he makes his way over. Cerulean eyes follow his every move, watch red welts bloom on his dragging knees.

“Here you go, that’s a good boy,” Touya praises him once he reaches his destination, kneeling between his spread legs. The praise goes all the way down his spine, tingling in his toes; Touya knows exactly how to push all his buttons.

“Turn around,” his voice beckons him and he complies, presenting him with his ass. The blush - a permanent fixture in his heat days - has now spread all over his face, down his throat. Presenting his brother with his dripping hole like that, that’s - shameful.

There’s a rustle behind him, and then a lone finger travels up his thigh, collecting slick. “What a waste,” he sighs and Shouto keens lowly, irrational - he doesn’t want to let him down -

And then gasps as two fingers penetrate his hole. Desperately he pushes back, wriggles on the fingers - not enough - and Touya tuts, like Shouto is some impatient child. His head hangs lowly between his straining shoulders.

“Let’s not let it go to waste,” he says, and then there’s a blunt object dragged across his heated skin, cold and foreign.

The fingers retract, and before Shouto can lament their loss he’s being stuffed with a butt plug, a high pitched moan wrenching out of him. It slides in easily - he’s so fucking wet - though the stretch is prominent.

Touya chuckles, gives the blunt part a solid push. It makes him shudder, but it’s not nearly enough; there’s a tight knot of hopelessness and anticipation in his chest, woven together tightly. He knows Touya won’t give him what they both want right away. He takes extra care in pulling him apart, before he finally mounts him. But that’s okay; Touya’s claimed him a long time ago. The longer the wait, the better he feels when he’s finally inside, when his knot inflates him impossibly wider.

Scarred, long fingers encompass Shouto’s thighs, kneading hot flesh. It’s making him heady; his brother is big , his hands can crush him. If he snaps his fingers, right now, Shouto will become ashes.

“That’s better,” he sighs, and then roughly turns him around, pulling at his hair. He drags him closer, one hand already holding his hard member at the base.

Saliva drips from the corner of his mouth. He can’t help it; it smells heavenly, and he’s thirsty, desperate to feel the familiar weight on his tongue, desperate to choke on his glistening head -

“Is my little kitty hungry?”

He nods his head, biting his lip. The crease between his eyebrows deepens the longer Touya tantalizes him, holding his hard dick in a touching distance. But he can’t break down; he knows the repercussions. He has to wait.

Using the precum dripping down his length, Touya strokes himself slowly, spreading his heady scent. Shouto swallows, trembling in place. He clenches around the plug in his ass involuntarily, futilely, aching for it to go further inside, to scratch some of the itch off.

Touya’s eyes roam over him, from his pinched face to his heaving chest, from his dripping member to his trembling knees. By his side, his hands are clenched in tight fists, not touching anything without permission.

Sometimes, he wonders how he musters the self-restraint during these heats with Touya. He’d love nothing more than to let himself loose, cave in to carnal desires and animalistic instincts. Instead, every cycle is a test of willpower and obedience; it’s unbelievable. A testimony to the power Touya holds over him.

He nods again, more frantic this time. Sharp teeth glisten in a wicked grin; his hand stops stroking. Two wet fingers now move to caress Shouto’s cheek and he’s taking a deep breath, closing his eyes at the heavy scent. Touya. His brother. His alpha.

They lodge in his mouth, jerking his jaw open. He wants to suck on them, to lap up what he can get, but they remain at his inner cheek, pushing harshly, signaling him to keep himself open.

Next, Touya shuffles forwards on the bed until his dick is centimeters away from his gaping mouth. Shouto looks up at him through messy bangs, eyes wide and pleading, but Touya’s gaze is set lower, watching his mouth closely.

He feels like screaming when the head of his cock pushes at his wet tongue, alongside his fingers. He can’t close his lips around him, can’t lick, can’t suck him in. This is all Touya’s doing right now, slowly inching inside him, unrelenting.

Shouto can feel the beginning of tears building in the corner of his eyes. His own dick weeps uncontrollably, precum dripping down his balls and thighs, mixing with slick. The plug can’t keep it all in, and the wet friction makes it move just so at every little chance, and everything is too much -

Touya sits back, fingers leaving his mouth in favor of once again holding his cock, sprawling back on his elbows.

“Come and get it, then.”

Shouto pounces him. He doesn’t waste time on slow teasing and light touches; Touya does that enough for both of them. Instead he swallows him up, pushing himself down on his cock until he gags, sucking harshly. It feels so good, so right to have him fill him up, cut his airways, choke him -

“Fuck, baby, look at you - you need me this much, love? You want me to fuck this little mouth of yours?”

Shouto groans, swallows around the head in his throat, palms trembling on scarred thighs. There’s a hot hand in his hair, tilting his head up until their gazes lock; the shadows of Touya’s scars curl around his smirking mouth, beneath his fire spitting, sunken eyes. There’s a spark there, blue flames fuming around dilated pupils.

Shouto’s own mismatched gaze lowers in half. He knows he looks debauched, sweaty and wet, smelling like sex and omega pheromones, and he loves it. He takes a deep breath through his nose, pulling more of Touya’s in.

The cock in his mouth slides lower and then pushes back in, but Touya keeps his head raised, their eyes linked. Shouto’s drowning, moaning around him, trying his best to work his tongue over his heated flesh.

“Fuck, you smell so good,” Touya grounds and releases his hair, lets him sink back down. He sucks harshly, minding his teeth, throat sore and spasming.

Shouto knows his classmates - or at least the ones with keen noses - must have noticed something. Hard to ignore, really, when he reeks of an older alpha, of a sated omega, when his blood thrums warm and fast, tainting his body through and through despite the lack of a bonding bite. He’s caught the wandering stares, the wrinkling noses. Deep inside, in a locked place only Touya has access to, he loves the judging looks, dick twitching in his pants at the thought others can smell how thoroughly he’s been used. He knows that when he gets back he’s going to reek, and everyone will know he’s been fucked again and again.

It’s a deadly combination, their heat and rut. The real surprise is not Shouto controlling himself when he feels like his body is on fire; it’s how Touya can remain composed and disciplined enough for the both of them. His rut is violent and gut clenchingly monumentous; he fills the whole room, every pore of Shouto’s being, in steams of black and sapphire. He’s going to have him so many times Shouto will need a whole day just to lie motionless and recover.

Right now though - right now is the unbelievable stage, before they leave their inhibitions discarded on the floor. These measured steps, this slow unraveling - Touya is nothing short of impossible. Shouto can't fathom these nerves of steel.

Fingers scratch down scarred thighs, dry lands shivering up his arms. His throat hurts; Touya never goes easy. Shouto never wants him to. He couldn’t live without the visceral edge. Touya never once questioned his will to hurt under his burning palms; Shouto appreciates this. How could he explain to anyone else that this is exactly what he needs, that he can’t breathe without the pain walking hand in hand with pleasure?

I think I’m broken, Shouto had said once, words drowned in the downpower shooting down from the sky.

I know you are, Touya had answered.

He closed his eyes then, tried to use his nose. The harsh rain was making it almost impossible to smell anything at the time, but that was probably the first time Shouto had realized just how colossal his brother’s scent was. His knees were the first to go out of commission that time on the dorm’s roof; he still shivers when he recalls the sharp teeth lined at his glands, the burning drag of his tongue on his neck.

“Shouto.”

I’m sorry, he wants to whine without even knowing what ticked Touya off now; but he’s sure something did. Fingers dig harshly into his shoulder, pushing him off the length, hard enough that Shouto lands on his back and the air rushes out of his burning lungs. An uncontrollable sob leaves his mouth and his arm shoots up to muffle the sound. He wasn’t good enough yet, he didn’t earn the right to complain. Are those tears? Something wet and hot glides over his flushed cheeks.

“Did I allow you to touch yourself, kitten?”

Touya slinks to the floor, throwing one slender leg over Shouto’s shoulder. His dick is almost back in Shouto’s mouth again, dripping with precum and spit. The fluids land back on his glazed lips and he laps at them desperately.

“You know I’ll take good care of you and yet you still act out of line,” he sighs and Shouto’s stomach churns at the tone. He’s right - Shouto knows he’s right. He didn’t even notice his hand moving on its own.

“Now I’m going to fuck your mouth until I cum down your throat, understood? And if you don’t keep yourself in check I will punish you, sweetheart. Be careful.”

Touya always keeps true to his promises. When this thing started - when his first heat knocked the breath out of him, stole his rational consciousness away together with his composure and sound judgment - Touya was there to catch him. Shouto wasn’t surprised to see Dabi popping from the familiar wrap-gate; he always knew. It wasn’t much a confirmation of his hunch so much as an aching piece of puzzle finally slitting back into place.

I can’t forgive you for what you did, he wanted to scream but instead he moaned at the hot fingers that wrapped around his bicep and pulled him from his futon. There was already a pool of slick between his trembling thighs and the flow intensified once Touya thrust inside him, hurried and totally out of control; Shouto howled into his pillow as his brother pounded his prostate, grazed his sensitive walls until he couldn’t cum anymore. The room stank with pheromones so much that Shouto had to try and cool the air around him considerably to diminish the smell.

You tried to hurt us, you tried to kill my friends - but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead he moaned like his body was incomplete without Touya inside him. He should have been more cautious, should have wondered why no alarms went off at the intrusion and how could Dabi possibly know about his heat - but his eyes rolled back impossibly, body trembled all over like a hotwire. Sharp teeth clamped over the scent gland at his neck and Shouto was gone.

“Don’t faint,” his low growl slices the thick air around them. It’s a promise and a warning, one he’s glad to receive. And he should be careful - Touya buried himself down his throat, setting a harsh pace. Shouto hollows his cheeks as much as he can but there’s nothing more he can do right now but try not to gag. Touya leans over his face, a scarred arm planted firmly on the floor, and fucks into him with vigor; the other hand curls on the back of his head to pull him up, adjusting the angle. He’s not just hitting the back of his throat now, he’s actually sliding deeper in, and tears spring in the corner of Shouto’s hooded eyes. Touya groans and stops, holding his nape in a vicious grip. Shouto heaves shallowly, resisting the cough that begs to wrench out of him. He has to keep still. He can do this. He loves this, drowning in his oppressive scent.

“You’re doing so well, baby. You’re such a good boy.”

Pride swells in his chest. It helps negate the lightheadedness. He wants to keep being a good boy for him. He lifts his eyes and his sight is blurred and shaking with black spots, but Touya’s figure - sharp edges, dark scars scaling white skin, looming over him like a predator about to tear his prey to shreds - is clear. His scent is so thick it helps ground him.

“You see? You can be a good boy when you want to.”

Air rushes back to his lungs like blood oozing from a wound - immediate, painful, and inevitable. Touya watches him intently as he pants and coughs, as he tries to calm down the burn in his throat. His scalding palms frame his face, one thumb soothing over his raw lips.

“Are we done yet, sweetheart?”

Shouto shakes his head violently, paws at his brother’s hips to guide his member back into his mouth. He won’t make the same mistake twice. Touya hums and lets Shouto pull him closer, hand caressing his soft locks.

“That’s right, Shou. Make sure you drink it all.”

And this time when he pushes back inside Shouto is ready; his mouth, much like his clenching asshole, is overflowing with fluids; it makes the harsh drag of his dick easier, though his throat still burns all the same. Shouto closes his eyes, letting Touya’s heady scent fill his nose, swimming around in his hazy mind. Last week someone slipped a bottle of sake into the dorms and Shouto finally understood what it really meant to feel drunk. The way his head swims now is not much different; like he’s on a rocky boat, pulled and tossed from side to side.

Only this feels much, much better than any other substance will ever be.

A deep groan above him is the only warning he gets before Touya’s hot cum spills down his throat. His gag reflex acts up, but Touya keeps a steady hand on the base of his skull, making sure Shouto shudders through a painful swallow before he lets up. A red tongue trails after him, licking at the glistening head through the puffs of much needed air.

The mess of tears, saliva and snot running down his flushed face is an accurate physical testimony to his mental state. Nevertheless, three fingers jam in his mouth and he sucks on them obediently, like he needs a replacement, like each and every second, some part of them has to be connected. They thrust in and out, splay on his tongue, push it down. A depreciation considering the enticing member still standing tall and hard in his line of sight.

His belly convulses and the plug inside him draws an inch further inside, mocking and degrading.

Touya smiles down at him, sated but alert. The weight of his gaze is probably the most oppressive quality; it feels like he’s dissecting him, pulling him apart and peeking inside between the muscles, the tendons and the bones. Like Shouto can’t hide anything from his prying gaze, like if he even tries to, the hand at the back of his head won’t hesitate to cradle a halo of blue flames instead.

Shouto sobs, keening an involuntary lamentation. He can feel his scent turn sadder, more desperate, begging Touya to mount him, to give him what he needs. He needs him, he needs him, he needs him -

The stapled mouth hitches up, wicked and alive.

The fingers pull out of his mouth, trail down his chest. His nipples stand on alert, anticipation running through him to every nerve end. He thrashes when Touya tweaks his right nipple, bucks up into nothing. His brother merely chuckles and continues his descent, until his fingers wrap around his weeping member in a vicious grip. A wave of pleasure crashes over him and his knees jump, groan ripped out of his heaving lungs.

He should have smelled the discontent, though. He was usually so in-tune with his brother, but their touch was never this drawn out. It was naive to assume this was just a long-winding foreplay.

“Where were you last time?”

Right. Touya wouldn’t know, had no way of asking - they didn’t have each other’s numbers for obvious reasons. Dabi never got in touch outside of his heat periods, when he whisked him away to another nondescript room in an unknown place - too dangerous for both of them. They were pushing their luck enough as it was. Tonight he didn’t ask, and Shouto failed to mention anything as he was swept away in the intensity of their meeting.

But that wasn’t the case last time, as the previous heat he spent alone. It was unavoidable, really, and most definitely not Shouto’s fault. It just so happened they were away on some practice camp. He was just in the middle of an endurance training session with Midoriya when suddenly his stomach convulsed, shooting a sharp pain that swept gravity from under his quivering feet. He groaned and had enough sense to encapsulate himself in an icy little fortress, seconds before Midoriya’s blown out pupils and sharp canines had a chance to get any closer. Someone yelled at the background but he had no recollection of who it was. The pains were intense and his scaling temperature meddled with his coherence.

When he opened his eyes the next time, he was lying in bed in the makeshift infirmary they set up. Recovery Girl didn’t accompany them, but it’s not like she could possibly do anything for him if she was there, anyways. Night already painted the sky in dark blues and another round of cramps seized his muscles. This was bad, this was - agonizing, and his dick jumped in his pants, pulsing and flushed. He groaned, wrapped shaking fingers around himself - he came with just three strokes and it did nothing to alleviate his suffering. This was nowhere near enough, he should have - he should have had Touya inside him.

Tears streamed down his cheeks. He trailed his fingers down, pushed past the fluttering ring or muscles. Not enough.

It was then that Midoriya meekly pushed the door open. Shouto was so far gone he forgot to feel any shame or apprehension. Maybe it was dark enough in the room for his friend to not understand what went on underneath the blankets that covered his body. Maybe it wasn’t. The spike in his alpha scent could have been just a natural reaction to Shouto’s heat pheromones.

Whatever it may be, even in the dark Shouto could see his pupils blowing out the moment he stepped inside the room. The mask on his face was enough to muffle his minute gasp, to hide his salivating mouth, but with his heightened senses Shouto could still smell the lust - and then confusion, and maybe some repulsion as well. Midoriya had a sensitive nose, one that picked up easily on Shouto’s own non-virginal scent. He wasn’t bonded, but he also wasn’t unclaimed. It was only during his heat that Shouto knew it to be obvious; he guessed no one would have even imagined him to be sexually active otherwise. For obvious reasons he didn’t tell his friend anything.

A jolt of shock shot through Midoriya’s body and he turned sharply to leave. A stilted, quickly mumbled apology was the only thing he said to him that evening. Shouto’s fingers crooked in his hole, sending tingles to his toes. Not enough.

The heat took three days of lonely agony to burn through his body. He was quarantined for the whole of it, with no one allowed near him, no heat aids present in the field, and obviously nothing of his partner to offer him any comfort.

They never spoke about it. Shouto never asked the other what he wanted that night and Midoriya never offered any explanation. His cheeks did turn a violent shade of red for a while every time they spoke after that, but nothing more than that.

“We had a t-training camp.”

His mouth sets in a grim line.

“What did we say about being absent during your heat?”

Shouto wants to get angry, he really does. It’s irrational to demand he’d be present in the dorms every heat, it’s not like Shouto had planned for it; especially since that heat seemed to have been triggered from the intensity of the training that day. There was nothing new about alternating between his sides to sharpen his skills, nothing dangerous to running his fever high for a long amount of time - but his heat was supposed to arrive on their return day, not three days earlier. It wasn’t like he did this intentionally, it was well out of his control.

But instead of anger he feels ashamed and scolded, chest aching with the helplessness tugging at his heart. He didn’t want to make him angry. He couldn’t have him angry with him now, he couldn’t possibly -

“Were you alone?”

He sucks in a sharp breath. One moment of hesitation paints his smell in deceiving colors and suddenly his brother’s weight on his chest verges on fatal. Before he can utter anything, scarred fingers wrap around his tender throat, pushing his chin up.

Something violent and jealous taints his heady scent.

His nails dig into his skin harshly. “Who was it? That foul-mouthed idiot brat?”

Shouto shakes his head fiercely as best as he can, tears spilling anew from his apologetic eyes.

Touya clicks his tongue, leaning further down. His eyes narrow in a manner that makes Shouto’s pulse beg in a frightened canter against his rough fingers.

The hand around his member fists tightly, painfully. He smells like a volcano about to erupt. “Was it that little two-goody shoes? The green haired prodigy child?”

The pressure on his windpipe intensifies. The fingers around his member are almost unbearably hot and a spike of honest fear drips down his spine.

“N-no-” his voice grates and protests the vicious grip. He coughs underneath the hold. “No one t-touched me,” he grunts, eyes pleading and honest. The fingers tighten.

“I was- a-alone,” he sobs, an aching recollection of the profound loneliness he had felt blinking in his scattered mind. He was by himself in that small room, and all he could think about were his brother’s hands, his lips, his member splitting him open - and there was nothing there, not even Touya’s worn out t-shirt he kept hidden in the bottom of his closet at the dorms for desperate times. It was so unbearably lonely.

Touya releases his member, leans back and hauls him up by the collar of his open shirt, keeping both sides together in a smoking palm.

The other palm cracks on his cheek like lightning. The striking continues - the other cheek, again and again, head flying from side to side. Shouto lets the intense pain fill him up, push another bout of slick down his messy thighs, around the squeaking plug. His orgasm rips out of him like another slap to his red cheeks.

When he comes back around it’s to a tongue lapping at his thighs, scooping up his transparent fluids into a lecherous mouth. The blankets around him are damp with sweat and body fluids. He moans as Touya’s teeth bite into his thigh, tugging and purpling the skin.

“Hey there, baby boy,” he hums into his bitten surface. Shouto whines, pinpricks of anticipation dancing in his limbs. His cheeks have cooled down, with only a ghost of his pounding heartbeat on the skin surface. Touya’s eyes burn with something quieter now, still askew, but not with rage. He heard people say Dabi’s eyes shine with something crazy and loose, but he knows they aren’t really familiar with his brother if they think that. Sure, his brother might be clinically labeled a psychopath, but nothing about him is cold or unhinged. Maybe just slightly tilted, bent with years of abuse and detachment.

He pulls a trembling cold hand over his messy face. There’s cum drying on his cheeks and he can only assume Touya must have cum again when he was out. That particular knowledge burns shamefully and arousing in the pit of his belly. Was it just after he passed out? Was he still holding him up by his ruined shirt, jerking off fast and messily?

The musing is cut short when suddenly his hips are dragged up, the lazy spell disintegrating back into a heated air. Touya sits on his knees, tall and tempting, and keeps hauling Shouto up until both his legs are thrown over his shoulder. His hole is inches away from his mouth. The breath stutters in his lungs.

The first lick to his fluttering muscles feels like too much and not enough. The plug is still inside him, a cruel joke Shouto is dying to burn to dust. Instead of pulling it out Touya gives the blunt edge a solid push, tongue circling around the object and then down his perineum. Shouto thrusts his hips, tightens his legs over his shoulder. They burn with exertion, muscles taught and ready for action.

Touya’s big hand lands on his thigh, curling over meaty flesh. There’s laughter in his beautiful eyes - the bastard enjoys watching Shouto flail desperately, desire his body to the point of fainting.

“Please, Touya, please…” he whines low, throwing an arm over his eyes. He can’t look at him like this, it hurts too bad to be this close yet still so far apart.

Touya chuckles again, giving his inner thigh another sharp bite. Shouto yelps but it’s short lived, groaning loudly as the plug is finally pulled out. Over his arm he can see Touya licking the object clean and his dick jumps.

“Your ass needs my cock, sweetheart?”

He groans again, thrusts his pelvis up. His answer is very obvious.

The room is steaming and Shouto feels his threads unravel the longer he goes without what his body needs. Touya loves stringing him up like this, stretching him thin until he snaps.

His brother shuffles forwards, throws the toy somewhere behind him. Shouto doesn’t care; the only thing he can focus on is the feeling of the tongue now finally inside him, his lips sucking at his rim, drinking his slick. He fists the sheets, body thrashing restlessly as the tongue prods deeper on his sensitive walls, dipping in and out, licking a wide and prominent trail over his hole.

Touya’s smell peaks, sending lightning down his moving limbs. Fuck, can he just -

It’s not the cock he needs but the solid four fingers pushing into him are so much better than the plug. A sobbing moan rocks his body as Touya thrusts his fingers in and out successively, until he finally grazes his prostate. Shouto arches, almost toppling over if not for the arm holding his hips; Touya assaults his spot ruthlessly, keeping his fingers deep and Shouto can only clench around him desperately as he cums.

This time there’s no black curtain falling over his consciousness, he can’t possibly calm down. He kicks at his chest, a fire lit under his buzzing skin. Touya gets it, letting his possessed body push him to the bed. He smirks up at him, sharp teeth and eyes wide and raving.

“Take what you need, sweetheart.”

Shouto rides him like his life depends on it. He descends on his hard member in one swift movement, eyes rolling back at the sensation. A tremor runs up his limbs, a dry orgasm making him curl in half but he plows through, setting a brutal rhythm to consume his heat. His nails rake down the scarred chest, drawing angry red lines in their destructive trails. Sweat and drool drips from his face and lands on Touya’s chest, sizzling once they hit the surface.

Fuck, fuck, he’s so hot, so hungry -

Touya slams up as he grinds down. Moaning, Shouto bends forwards, watches where they connect from between the sweaty red and white of his hair, drinks in the sight of his brother disappearing into his ass, fast and furious and so damn good.

He feels nothing but absolute bliss, insides twisting with pleasure. Touya pulls him down for a bruising kiss, drinking in his loud voice, swapping moans for groans. The bed creaks too loudly with their feverish fucking, banging into the wall. Shouto must have come again, but he really can’t distinguish any peaks by now, too far gone, drowning in the waves of pleasure crashing over him one after the other. Touya feels just right, big and strong and hitting his prostate again and again and again. It doesn’t take a lot more of his frenzied bouncing for the other to come again as well and Shouto whines at the feeling.

For a moment there’s nothing between them but the stillness only achieved after an endless movement, until Touya raises him by his hips and maneuvers them so his ass is in the air and he can take his rightful position between his younger brother’s trembling spread thighs to mount him.

Shouto cries out when he rams back in, crashing to the mattress underneath his weight. His bones are liquefied, his muscles out of commission and he can’t hold himself up anymore. Long fingers leave palm-shaped bruises on his stuttering hips where they grip him tightly, drag him back over the member thrusting into him. He sobs into the pillow, engulfed by their aroused pheromones - it’s too much, he can’t take it anymore - he’s going to burst, they’re both going to burn if they don’t stop, but it’s not enough -

“No - No m-more...mm-...nii-san!”

The hands leave his hips, allow him to lie flat on his dirty belly. The sudden stimulation to his front is shocking but he can’t concentrate on the feeling when a dominant hand splays between his shoulder blades, forcing his head to flee to the side if he wants to somehow drag air into his lungs. This way, Touya pounds him like he aims to breed, desperate and frenetic and deliciously mind blowing - Shouto’s continuous moans are punched out in the rhythm of his thrusts and he stares through wet red strands at his brother’s beautiful face pinched in pleasure, mouth open and salivating. He looks so vulnerable, so fucked out - until he catches his gaze and Shouto knows exactly when he snaps.

It happens at the same time - teeth clamp over the gland on the left side of his neck just as he shoots his load again, and this time his knot finally inflates inside Shouto’s wet hole, clawing another orgasm out of his tired body, seizing a shrieking, shocked whine from his trembling lips.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck - Shouto - you’re so good baby, you’re doing so good - “

Shouto was never a talkative person to begin with, but words feel like a completely foreign concept right now. His mouth can only move around groans and moans, stripped back to animalistic, instinctual sounds. His muscles clench around the big knot in his ass, sending an all-encompassing tremor through his wrecked body. Possessiveness circulates heavy and threatening in the stream of his gushing blood and he presents his nape, begging and honest, raw and demanding.

Touya growls savagely, but trails his sharp teeth all the way from his nape to his neck, this time biting over the other gland, sucking harshly. Shouto cries out; his glands pound with oversensitivity, swollen and aching along his body. The knot is persistent, painful, and yet Touya grinds shallowly inside, never once letting his mind focus on anything else. The low growl reverberates on his tingling skin, teeth still sunk into him, chest flat to his sweaty back. The rocking of his hips slowly but surely drags Shouto away from the land of the sane - though everything feels so fucking good, so right with his big brother buried to the hilt inside him - maybe he was never there at all.

Touya keeps rutting into him for an amount of time Shouto cannot comprehend, not with his senses, his body, or his mind. It’s almost like a dance, the way they move and writhe, like two snakes entwined in one another; the hiss in his ears rattles low. Everything. Every last bit of you is mine.

He sighs, shuddering, pushes back - he can’t get enough of him even though every bit of them is joined.

The hours that follow are obscure, bodies blurred in a stream of half present consciousness. All Shouto feels are the currents of euphoria trapping him between the ebb and flow; one moment he’s cradled close to a messy chest, gliding in his hot lap, guided by forces unseen as he takes his brother deeper in; then he lies on his side; he’s aware the position has changed but the particularities are hazy. It’s like he has zero control over his body. He doesn’t care; he cums again. The cock buried in his ass keeps moving, pouring into him even though Shouto’s already filled to the brim, pumping slick and cum out every time he moves to cascade over his white thighs. The bed is soaking, the air is stifling but his body will not fall apart, not with his brother wrapped tightly around him, keeping the fire in his stomach contained with the incessant presence inside him.

Amongst the dozens of bites littering his body, between patches of bruised skin, in the smears of their fluids drying and spilling and drying again over him, Shouto musters enough willpower to seek the thin smile - pawing hands reach, pull at his heated body until their mouths are sewn shut in a revered kiss.

It’s easier to breathe like that, he thinks, sighing and licking, biting and kissing, dissolving into his loved one.

Tomorrow, maybe the day after, the gnawing frustration will bite into him, will conjure a mosaic of Dabi and Touya, of scarred arms reaching to burn, of open palms caressing wet cheeks. Today, tonight - or is it already morning? - he curls back into the prison of his arms, letting this deadly man envelop him. Just until tomorrow, he thinks and ignores the clenching in his heart. When the time comes again he’ll come for him - he always does. He always will.