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Chapter Text

“Good morning, I’d like to ask everyone attending this press conference to wait until we have finished our statement before asking questions. It won’t take too long but please rest assured that everything we say comes from our heart and we take this incredibly seriously.” Izuku paused, rustling the paper laid out on the podium in front of him. Taking a shaky breath to continue, he opened his mouth but immediately melted when Hizashi stealthily wrapped an arm around his waist, grounding him, supporting him and generally being an amazing human being. He swallowed thickly.

“Its ok, we’re here” whispered Shouta against his other side.

Izuku cleared his throat and finally spoke further “Myself, along with Pro-heroes Present Mic and Eraserhead would like to formally apologise for the very public display that occurred the day before yesterday at Hero-Fiesta. Our actions, while unavoidable following the quirk laced attack, no doubt caused distress-“

At that moment, someone in the large crowd shouted “and loads o’fuckin erections!”

Hizashi immediately lurched forward, grabbing the podium mounted microphone and shouted “You need to wash your nasty mouth out, you dirty pig!”

Of course, it was several minutes of chaos before security escorted the troublesome folk away from the town square and worked diligently to re-establish calm. 

“Barely seems worth continuing.” Shouta mumbled, thoroughly irritated by the whole affair. “I don’t see why we had to do this shit in person anyway.”

Izuku wanted to agree, but people skipped over drafted letters, skimmed articles and straight up ignored long, boring social media posts. Embarrassing speeches delivered live, in front of a large crowd, pulled in more attention his PR manager said. And Hizashi agreed. In the end it was just Shouta who was dragging his feet and grumbling about it despite not having to do any of the talking.

“Don’t start. The next person who comments on ‘how beautifully Izuku moans’ is getting their head ripped off” 

He turned to Hizashi and tilted his head up to nuzzle under the blond’s chin. Having two boyfriends who were significantly taller was a blessing and a curse he thought as his aching neck complained.

“Thank you for regaining composure” Said the mayor in a clear voice before turning to the three of them standing a few feet back on the stage “Hero Deku, please continue.”

Izuku closed his eyes, steeling himself for a moment.

‘How the hell did this become my life.’

Two days earlier…

“Kacchan, Kacchan” he hissed, his shorter legs scrambling to keep up with the long stomping strides of his childhood friend “Eraserhead is going to be on the stage with us! I’ve never met him!”

Katsuki groaned, pace never faltering “You’re such a nerd. That hobo was my fucking teacher Deku, I had 3 years of his droning voice, a face that screamed ‘dead inside’ so why the hell would you be excited to meet him?”

The blond jerked to the side, narrowly avoiding a petty slap.

“Rude.” Izuku gripped his backpack a little tighter, muttering quietly “I’d have a face that screamed dead inside if I had to share a classroom with you.”

Of course, thanks to his recent restorative ear surgery, Katsuki heard his little retort and promptly set off a small explosion near his face, leaving the tips of his hair singed.

After washing his face and putting his bag in the provided locker, Izuku followed the hastily erected cardboard passage through the large atrium hall to the centre stage, where he was told to wait behind the partition. 

Its a strange set up, he thought peeking out through the gaps. The large stage was in the centre of the gigantic room. The back half of the large platform had a sort of waiting room (without a roof), the walls of which were 8ft tall rectangles of thin plywood, connected by small clips, leaving a centimetre gap between each piece. At the end is a small switchback in lieu of a door so the heroes can enter the stage easily. 

One of the panels in the small room though, is oddly near see through paper. Apparently it was in place for a ‘Guess the Hero’ section planned for the following day, where people had to figure out the hero from the silhouette. 

In front of the stage, the vast space was filled with hundreds of chairs for the spectating audience. Behind the stage, beyond the small temporary partition, the other half of the wide, open arena, was filled with small stalls for artists, jewellery and bag makers, cosplayers, everything and anything “Made for Hero Fans, by Hero Fans”.

So it was already bustling. 

Really he was grateful for the weird little passage that got him onto the stage.

And now that he was in the relative sanctuary, he looked around the surprisingly well sized ‘room’, first spying a table with bottles of water and then-

“Present Mic!!” 

Izuku quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, mortified by his embarrassing show of reverence. Katsuki was right. He really was a nerd.

In his defence, he’d been sheltered in his heroic rising. Scouted by All Might and Sir Nighteye at the age of 11, he was pulled from school and trained privately to become the successor to the Symbol of Peace. He managed to reunite and become friends with Katsuki again following an accidental run in with a slime villain 3 years later. The blond had been stunned when he raced in, skin ablaze with teal lightning, yanking him out of the crook’s grimy grasp and floating up onto the roof of the adjacent building, while All Might himself took the villain out.

Well, perhaps he looked upon it with rose tinted glasses. The reality had been a lot of shouting and cursing, a few explosions, rampant emotions and then breakdowns on both sides. But over the course of a year, the two became close friends, just like when they were children, before anyone had even thought about the word ‘quirkless.’

“Well well well, if it isn’t the nation’s shiniest pet”

Izuku whirled on the spot, eyes sparkling, wide happy grin lighting up his face… he recognised that voice from the numerous interviews he’d seen. “Phantom Thief!!”

Monoma recoiled a little at his sunny expression. Based on Kacchan’s stories, the snarky blond was probably expecting some kind of biting remark… instead he got blasted with a desire for friendship.

“Uhhh”

“I’m so excited to finally meet you! I requested we work together on the Sonoma case last month but you were on a mission up north apparently. Still, I get to meet you here! And thats great! I’ve seen a lot of your analysis work, what with the nature of your quirk, being able to understand quirks is important and I love that, I think quirk analysis is imperative when working out in the field with a lot of unknown-“

“DEKU! Stop freaking him out, you nerd!”

Kacchan’s barking snapped him out of his endless babble and his glazed eyes refocused on Monoma. The poor guy looked like a teenager being forced to hug a great-great-aunt.

“Izuku!” 

He turned again, this time towards the angelic voice of Momo Yaoyorozu, someone he’d grown to enjoy the “occasional spot of tea” with, after they’d met during a nasty trafficking case the previous year. And calling it ‘an occasional spot of tea’ made him feel very fancy, in stark contrast to how his life usually was, with having Kacchan for a best friend. 

For the next fifteen minutes, he conversed with heroes he’d previously met and was introduced to a few others… but in the corner, gathered around a water cooler was a gaggle of former/current teachers. 

Present Mic, the host of the event, would be announcing the teachers of the “Golden Year” followed by a selection of the brightest heroes to come from that generation. So Eraserhead and Vlad King from UA, Ms Joke from Ketsubutsu, Jet from Shiketsu and Hell Bass from Seijin High were there to answer questions about their teaching from 10 years ago when the “Golden Year” started.

The heroes from that year were Dynamight and Creati from class A, Phantom Thief and Battle Fist from class B, Grand from Ketsubutsu (even though Shindo had technically been a third year at that point, Ms Joke apparently threw a tantrum about representation from her Alumni), Gale Force (from Shiketsu) and Gigantouch (the only non-underground hero from Seijin high). Izuku had been added to the roster despite not attending any of those schools but he was the highest ranked hero out of the lot of them so it made sense he supposed. And he certainly wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth… getting to meet his two biggest crushes in the goddamn universe, Present Mic and Eraserhead… yes please. 

After a little chat with Yaomomo as she insisted he call her, a stern spectacled man closed the end with the little tunnel exit and worked with a group of staff to fully dismantle the passage through which they’d all came. It didn’t take long before there was a loud clattering and suddenly, an excited rabbling noise picked up. 

Izuku and a couple of others peeked out through the gaps, to see the three main doors to this half of the room were now spill points for the hundreds of hero otaku flooding the room, all scrambling to get the best seats in a woefully organised affair.

Everything from the moment people were seated though, went off without a hitch…

The stage was set up with two long tables and a gap in the middle where Present Mic stood, announcing people one by one. Along the left table Hell Bass and her former student Gigantouch, Jet and his former student Gale Force and Ms joke with Grand sit, all smiles. Then the right table fills, Vlad King takes the furthest spot, with Phantom Thief and Battle Fist making their entrance shortly after, then Eraserhead came in, bucking the trend to sit closest to Mic, who barely twitches at the changed seating configuration. Izuku wonders if the underground hero, rumoured to be in a relationship with the radio host come hero, just wanted to be petty. After all, it was just before Present Mic set out first, that Izuku heard Eraser complaining about having to participate in “the damn thing.” 

Either way when Creati and Kacchan- Dynamight, go on stage, they quickly fill the two seats remaining on the table. 

Of course that means its his turn to come out on stage. And not being affiliated with any of the schools AND being highest ranked out of the former “Golden Year” student, the organisers suggested Izuku just stand like a dumbass next to the host. 

He hated it. 

And yet he got to be close with Present Mic. 

So he loved it.

“…Hero Deku!!”

Welp.

He took a deep breath, plastered a bright and sunny, very fake smile on his face and walked out on to the stage, immediately waving as he made his way over to the centre with Present Mic, or Hizashi Yamada as Izuku remembered from his deep dive into the famous radio host.

And thats the moment when the ‘without a hitch’ thing falls apart.

.

.

.

Katsuki sat between Aizawa and Yaoyorozu on the stupid ass stage, at this dumb table, in front of all these screaming idiots. 

He was secretly pleased as hell to have been called upon, as the number one choice from the former class A. Because they definitely called him first. Obviously. But now as Present Mic babbled on, a sickly little vine grew through his stomach… he knew what was coming. And it wasn’t like Deku didn’t deserve the praise he was about to be showered with… still, he knew those cheers would be louder and despite their long friendship, good working relationship and hell, even feeling proud at how far the dumbass had come… nothing would ever be able to fully remove the cruel, jealous pang that he felt.

“-Hero Deku!”

He bit back a snarl when the room all but erupted. Turning away from the profound adoration that bloomed from the audience, he looked at the nerd approaching. 

He had fucking stars in his eyes.

‘Still got a crush on Present Mic then.’

He glanced at Aizawa sitting beside him. His former teacher was looking between the two men stood up and the rowdy crowd.

‘Deku’s choice in men is-‘

Suddenly Katsuki was jostled to the side by Aizawa, pushing him into colliding with Yaoyorozu. Looking up in alarm, he saw the cause of the commotion.

From the mid-left of the room, a man in his early twenties had fired something from a ridiculous, brightly coloured nerf gun. Aizawa was quick to tie Deku and Mic together, yanking them out of harms way.

Katsuki and the others all lurched further out of the way, turning back in time to see that the projectile was a powder laced piece of fabric, which unfortunately became entangled with Aizawa’s capture weapon and ended up coating the three in the mystery substance just off from the centre of the stage.

The whole damn room then erupts in pandemonium. 

He, Yaoyorozu, Kendo and Monoma move further away from the small, developing dust cloud with Vlad, while the table on the opposite side reacts similarly. 

Fury floods his veins and without a second hesitation, Katsuki dives over the table, blasting his way to the nerf-armed man who promptly squeals and drops like a sack of shit.

Citizens in the room begin fleeing in terror until a very loud, sexual “Fuck” slips out from Present Mic’s lips. At that point, every single person, probably within a fucking mile, stops still. 

Immediately following the sensual sounding expletive, Deku fucking whines, high and needy before Aizawa starts sloppily making out with both of them. And its damn near deafening because Present Mic still has his headset on, with Madonna-esque microphone, so the whole room echoes with wet kissing, panting and moaning.

“Oh sweet hell on earth no…”  Vlad King looks like a dog who’s involuntarily snarling and shuddering, because someone just presented fresh orange peel just inches away from it’s snout.

Ms Joke, as the name suggests, barks out a single laugh before turning away with a blush, giggling as she moves towards the doors to assist with the mass exodus.

Hell Bass, despite wearing a full face mask, still seems to convey the overwhelming desire to nope the fuck out of the atrium.

Its the boisterous former Shiketsu student Inasa Yoarashi who actually manages to use a brain cell and accordingly screams “Someone think of the children and disconnect him from the speakers!!”

This snapped the other heroes on stage out of their internal spiralling. 

Jet, much like his boring and unimaginative hero name, begins soaring around the room, yanking out cables from speakers, but its a horrific task because the whole atrium is rigged up so even people in the other half can listen.

At this point, barely ten seconds after the powder laced projectile was fired, several people are still trying to leave, but many more are now pouring back in towards the stage like filthy degenerates, keen to get a free porn show.

The heroes scramble to get everyone out while Katsuki starts shaking the crook in his hands “What did you fucking do!?! What was on that rag you piece of shit!”

“Yahhhyaaahhhh quirked gahhhh aphrodesiac-aaaaahhhh” the man is slapped with cuffs and hurled unceremoniously onto the floor, so the blond could stomp on him a few times.

Some fucking loser is slowly chuckling while filming the display on the damn stage, until Monoma (and Katsuki had never thought in his life that he’d respect the guy) punched the dude out cold before flipping the two tables and stacking them on each other to form some weak attempt at shielding the trio on stage as they grope and make out.

“Nobody touch them! All three are under the influence of the powder and we don’t know how long the residue will have effect!” Creati shouts as she quickly makes quirk cancelling bracelets to give to the three, but the pauses as she obviously doesn’t want to get too close. So next she makes a large kind of bargepole to pass them on, and thankfully Aizawa is still mentally aware enough to snatch and apply them.

“They need to get behind the partition- Hey put your damn phone away you fucking pervert!- The scandal from this would- Don’t fucking-“ Katsuki leapt forward to pull three people trying to climb onto the stage and all but hurls them across the room.

“I can’t use my wind to move them, we don’t know the impact of the powder being spread like that” Gale force shouts over the still noisy moaning on stage and the excited chatter of the people around the room. The tall brunet holds two adjacent double set of doors closed with his quirk while Yaoyorozu makes a chain to hold them closed against the influx of filthbags, before moving over to assist Vlad doing the same at another entrance.

“I can use the pole I made- ah if only Shinso were here-“ Momo pauses at the gentle rumbling from the other side of the atrium beyond the stage, where Joke, Grand and a few of the others continue to try clear out. “Dynamight, help me coerce them across the stage and back behind the partition!”

The two use the pole, pushing as gently as possible in a sweeping motion. 

Despite the care taken, their intervention apparently isn’t appreciated.

Present Mic actually snarls and Katsuki barks into a newly provided megaphone “Aizawa! Unless you want all these hungry wolves gawking at Deku’s pussy and your and Mic’s dicks, snap out of it and get the three of you behind that fucking fake wall!”

A sniff of clarity seems to come over the raven head’s face and Katsuki sags a little with relief.

“Shit!” Aizawa gasps before throwing them both over each shoulder and literally running, albeit awkwardly given the damn weapon of mass destruction tenting his hero suit, through the entrance of the stage ‘room’

“Thank fuck for that” Katsuki rasps before turning around to see people sneaking back in through the east exit, while Vlad and Gale Force valiantly hold a different set of doors at the north exit shut. 

He pulls up the megaphone again, “Hey! Get your asses back out before I have you fucking arrested!”

On the other side in the “By Fans, For Fans” zone, its utter chaos, people hiding behind tables hoping to listen to the amorous noises, get sound clips and even in some cases, standing on the tables to look over into the ‘Private stage room’

“I’ve called it in with the event organisers, contacted the police and Midnight is on her way” shouts Kendo “But she’s going to be over half an hour! Dynamight, Phantom Thief, you guard the stage-“

“Don’t boss me around!”

Kendo continued “-Vlad, Creati, work on getting all the doors on both sides of the atrium sealed! Then stand guard on this side.”

“Got it!”

“Gale force work with Grand, move around the whole atrium and get people out then guard the far side doors. Jet how’s-“ Kendo pauses when finally, the speakers all cut out and the extremely loud moaning stops “Right, good… Jet, do you think you, Hell Bass and Gigantouch could get out of the atrium and start getting the rest of the place evacuated so things can calm down? Take the attacker with you, and one of you get more info on this powder.”

“Sure!”

“I’m going to help clean out the far side with Joke and guard the back side of the stage!” Kendo finally stopped calling out orders and took off running.

“Fucks sake… guard the stage?” Katsuki looked to his left to see Monoma equally appalled with the idea.

With a grumble, the two blonds jumped up onto the stage, pulling over chairs to sit on the left and right corners, away from the small sprinkled layer of dust in the centre and away from each other.

“Fuck Zashi, he’s so wet, feel this, fuck-”

Katsuki hissed like an angry cat, glaring back over his shoulder at the paper thin partition just a few feet away “Will you slut bags at least try and stop the filth that’s spewing out of your fucking mouths!”

All three moaned after a beat.

“I can honestly say this is the worst day of my life” Monoma added in the driest tone imaginable. 

“The fact that you’re here, enduring this horror too-“ Katsuki said, side eying the other as a small wicked grin lifts his lips “-makes me feel better though.”

“Fuck you, piss face.”

Gradually, the room began to calm down. The number of deplorable civilians milling around the room, smart phones in hand, reduced to zero until finally, the only sound in the room was the slapping of skin on skin and three desperate moans.

Looking to his side, Neito was frowning, glaring in fact, as he hammered his phone screen while playing the drumming game, Taiko no Tatsujin. “What level?” Katsuki shouted to drown out Present Mic crying over how hot Deku’s hole was.

“A Cruel Angel's Thesis”

He walked over, dragging his chair along with him before plonking down at his side “Evangelion fan huh?”

“You knows-“ 

“Ah AH Sho Zashi! Harder!! AAAH”

Neito and Katsuki almost choked on spit as Deku’s voice rang out even louder.

“Can I borrow your quirk for a minute” Neito reached out towards the bare skin of Katsuki’s upper arm but he swatted it away quickly.

“No deafening yourself.”

“I hate you… wait…” Neito looked down at the set of low speakers on the corner of the stage before hopping off his chair and crouching down to examine the back panel. 

Katsuki wondered what the idiot was doing for a minute before it clicked “Momo!!” he bellowed out, purposefully shouting loud to drown out Aizawa’s demonic grunts. “Can you make a 6.3mm to 3.5mm cable and a 3.5 plug adapter to lightning… uh… please?”

Approximately three groans, five moans, one whimpered “please” and one “Oh fuck, he’s sucking me back in” later, and Yaoyorozu handed over the requested cables, so the two blonds grimacing on the stage could connect Neito’s phone to the speaker and finally-

“Oh thank god” Neito sighed as the game music blared out. “-no offence to your friend back there but I really didn’t want to hear Hero Deku getting double teamed by our former teachers today.”

“Yeah no shit… hey, gimme, let me play Guren no Yumiya” Katsuki made grabby hands, scooting his chair closer to the speaker to make sure the cable reached.

“Attack on Titan though? So grim…” 

“Hell yeah, look assface, if you don’t have a fucking crush on Captain Levi, you can’t call yourself gay.”

“Hmmm good point” Neito nodded knowingly, handing his phone over.

As time went on, the two blond’s played the game, in peace. Every time a song ended, they would mute the phone to check that the horror show was indeed still occurring. Eventually though, the noises from behind the faux walls built up to a crescendo, just loud enough that the phone had to be turned up a notch. When the song ended and the phone was muted… silence fell upon the stage.

“… hey…. Is it just me or does it seem like they uh… finished…”

Katsuki frowned. Neito was right. He turned around on the stage and stared at the partition. The toxic dust was still sprayed like a sprinkling of light snow in the centre, tables remained on their side, the barge pole used and discarded... all lying there unmoving in the still quiet of the room. 

“Do you think they had a heart attack?”

Panic lanced his chest as his head whipped around to stare at Neito. “Fuck… you should go look!”

“ME?! WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE ME!?” Neito screeched while simultaneously making no move to do such a thing. And to be honest, Katsuki didn’t blame him. The thought of seeing three, cum stained corpses wouldn’t be pleasant at the best of times… but with one of them being Deku… two other, his former teachers whom he respected…

‘Damn if they went out like this… I should have killed that guy...’

Before either decided to do anything, Vlad called out from his position next to the east door as he began to unlock it “Ah finally!”

Katsuki and Neito turned their full attention to the door, was it the ambulance? Midnight?

…“All Might?!” “HAH?!”

“I am here!!!… With news about the quirk powder! And a doctor to check the victims!… And a large blanket… and uh my car, to take the ahem… involved parties somewhere safe and private!”

Chapter Text

It was always an interesting concept, Izuku thought, as the strange ball of fabric shot out towards him, that in moments like this, time seemed to slow down. That half a second can stretch out to ten, until the point when madness erupts and then its the opposite. A thousand things packed into what feels like the blink of an eye.

The moment the fabric hit, however… when that capture scarf wrapped and their bodies collided… Izuku found that he had little understanding of anything beyond the unquenchable thirst of desire.

A gasp slipped from his lips as he was grabbed firmly, a rough thumb rubbing across his nipple jolting him to his core. His sensitivity had immediately skyrocketed but in that touch, the spark of pleasure peeled back the overwhelming haze of lust, just enough to give a hint of clarity. 

They’ve been hit by an aphrodisiac. It was obvious that the barest semblance of sanity was only possible with sexual gratification. But already it wasn’t enough…

His inhibitions vanished to such an extent that he didn’t even feel human anymore. Whatever self made filter Izuku had developed over his lifespan, trickled away like sand through his fingers. 

Decades of never dreaming of uttering a swear word, gone. In that instant, he’d even curse in front of his own mother. Any sass he’d established and kept to muttered whispers, a forgotten dream. Blushing over holding hands? Fuck that, he thought with wild mania, if he doesn’t get a dick asap, he will reinforce Present Mic’s quiffed hair with blackwhip and fuck himself with that, right here and now. 

Through his frantic, darting gaze, he can see that they’re still on the stage in front of hundreds of screaming people. Kacchan has exploded off somewhere. Eraserhead yanked them all together and-

“Fuck.”

Its a deep, throaty word, gushing out from Present Mic like a tidal wave bursting through a shoreline barrier. It sounds so sensual, the word throttles Izuku’s mind in a grip of lust, instantly travelling south reminding him how cavernously empty all of his holes are.

He closes his eyes, promptly ignoring the horror of the very public situation and whines with dissatisfaction. 

It echoes through the room but he’s too entranced by a set of teeth suddenly nibbling at his neck and a hot wet tongue invading his mouth. One of his hands reaches up, immediately entangling with silky soft hair, the other is running along the smooth skin of what must be Present Mic’s jaw as the blond licks and slurps his neck. Pants and moans slip out in unbridled delight when the mouth on his neck moves up and joins the kiss to accomplish a strange three-way dance of tongues. 

Its perfect and woefully insufficient all at once.

He’s so engrossed in the make out session, that he isn’t exactly sure whether its Eraserhead’s hands kneading his ass and Present Mic’s frighteningly large member pressing hard against his hip, or vice versa.

“Ah- Haaah, pleease-” he whispers, all breathy between kisses.

His eyes fly open when a hand migrates to his crotch, moving roughly, pressing and sliding finger tips over his quivering mound. He wants to keen loudly. Arch into it, hump that fucking hand like its his secret Present Mic body pillow. It would be easy with his killer thighs, to just straight up jump the two men… but the hint of pleasure tingling through his groin, awakens his brain for a moment-

‘Oh no, I’m grinding like a dog in heat, on stage, my career is over. My life is a pathetic mess, like that terrible scarf Kacchan hand knitted, when he was on bedrest last year. Even my cat will disown me, Mr Flibbles, I’m sorry for being a salacious degenerate.’

The sweet bliss mounting between his legs halts abruptly. 

As the hand pulls away, a sudden ferocious rage floods his veins, he wants to level all of Japan, detroit smash the hell out of whoever took-

Looking down with venomous green eyes, he sees the quirk cancelling cuff, clipping closed on his wrist. He should recognise somewhere in his mind that its an exceptionally wise thing to do but his mental capacity disappears with the returning painful lust. If he doesn’t get to rub his clit raw in the next 2 seconds he’s going to rip off someone’s head with his teeth.

“Sorry sorry, its ok baby” Eraserhead mumbles as he resumes the friction, rapidly stroking, with deadly accuracy. 

The zaps of pleasure soften his murderous gaze, peeling back the haze enough to study the handsome, raven haired hero. The man was a little flushed, pupils wide, mouth slightly open but when Izuku looked to his left, Present Mic was a different kettle of fish.

To call him a hot mess would be an understatement. 

The blond’s cheeks were flooded a deep scarlet pink, as he panted hoarsely. His eyes seemed to be missing that delightful apple green shade, instead Izuku could only see large black pools. 

Its a delicious, albeit terrifying sight. Exactly what was going to happen to them? 

‘He’s drooling, kind of gasping for air. Is this how I looked when Eraser stopped touching me? If we stop, will we die? If we don’t stop will we die?’ 

His gaze drifted off as he looked up towards the bright lights of the domed atrium roof. 

‘Not a bad way to go’ he thought stupidly.

“Ah shit, Sho, Zuku, let me- let-“ Present Mic lurches back in to resume kissing. The blond seems to be torn between yanking off clothes and just devouring his soul through his mouth. Between the kissing, the stroking, the grabbing and maybe at some point the front of his hero suit had been unzipped… he wondered how long it’d been? Seconds? Minutes? 

More…

“Zuku you’re so pretty, I need-” Mic pauses with a deep, snarling growl, setting alight a hot carnal blaze through his body.

Reaching out, he begins tearing at someone’s costume. While he’s consumed with the thought of getting a dick in his hands immediately, he hears the grating noise of Katsuki Bakugo, barking like a pissy Chihuahua, threatening to interrupt them or something.

‘Looks like Kacchan’s gotta die. What a shame.’

Before he can toss a table or whatever the hell is within reach at his childhood friend’s loud face hole, he’s roughly thrown onto Eraser’s shoulder. The halt in pleasurable touch is only mere seconds but he descends into madness, all but howling until he and Mic reconnect like magnets in the apparent sanctuary of the flimsily bordered, stage room. 

Immediately, he loses patience and rips his own suit fully open and yanks out his right arm. The moment he gains partial freedom, he unzips the thick black trousers next to him. Despite his lack of quirk, he somehow breaks the red belt hindering his progress and immediately frees the stiff cock from its prison.

The blond yells out like a sexy bitch again as a hand slips into his boxers without warning. Coarse fingers slip between his drenched folds washing him with a cool misty feeling of relief.

Izuku sighs happily as he runs a thumb through the precome pooled on Mic’s tip, coating the cock that he sets about stroking.

“Oh baby, ah De- ahhh-” 

Now that all three are moaning loudly, blissed out, Izuku takes in the situation, with the heart of a hobby analyst beating proud. 

He’s stroking Present Mics dick. And its such a good size, long, slightly curved, a small neat tuft of blond hair shaved into a ridiculous lightning bolt. The radio presenter might be looking at Izuku with ravenous eyes and an open mouthed grin but he’s busy gripping Eraserhead’s cock with both hands, jerking it in time with Izuku’s movement. 

The dick in question is thick, weeping and red under the pressure of the grip but the usually tired hero looks elated, head thrown back, eyes closed. Even while distracted, Eraserhead has his hand down Izuku’s front, gliding back and forward over his twitching nub. 

Its incredible.

All three working in sync.

And it must be to do with what was on that fabric, Izuku confirmed, that the ecstasy he felt, gave the sensation of cooling aloe vera being applied to sun burn and that when the pleasure stopped, he spiralled into lunacy.

Dragging his gaze away from the delicious scene in front of him, Izuku’s mortification resumes as as realisation sinks in.

He can hear their moans over speakers. He knows Mic can too because the hero is biting his lip but nothing can stop it. The moment the pleasure stops, all concept of brain power disappears, so maybe, so long as they stay connected like this, they could be escorted out.

But even the thought of that is so embarrassing, he’d rather die.

There’s still civilians throughout the entire atrium. And on top of that, multiple heroes that he respects and admires. 

‘How can something be so good and so bad all at the same time…’

A sudden hot pulse of desire makes him shudder, perhaps another wave from the aphrodisiac? Present Mic seems to react similarly, curling forward and biting down on Izuku’s neck making him cry out. He can feel his knee’s giving out, so he tries to press the problem through garbled speech.

“I- Knees, its- Eraser- my nuhhh-my-“ At that exact moment, the rough fingers pinch his clit and he almost screams.

“Its ok, I got you-“ a hand slides around his back giving much needed support “and call me Shouta, or Sho.”

The three start slowly moving to a kneeling position, Present Mic to his left pants “Zahhh- call ahhhh-”

“Yeah call him Zashi.”

Izuku, right hand still smoothly gliding up and down Zashi’s cock, gets his other arm out of the suit with some much needed assistance from Shouta. He wants to ask why the man seems much more compos mentis, but it made sense, the fabric hit him and Zashi first, they took the worst of the mystery powder. Ultimately he’s grateful, at least one of them has some kind of control.

He sits a little lower, butt on feet, knees splayed, back arched with his left hand on the floor for support. He puts all his effort into keeping a steady rhythm with his right hand while mentally honing in on the building pressure in his distended, hard clit. 

‘Why can’t I come?’ 

He whines softly, brows furrowed as the thought distresses him. Shouta immediately plunges a finger further under, deep into his sopping wet hole making him arch deeper and brokenly gasp.

“Fuck Zashi, he’s so wet, feel this, fuck-”

The blond immediately moves one hand off Shouta’s dick and joins in, slipping his finger along side, as somewhere, a cranky Kacchan hisses at them to stop.

It was a pointless request. All three moaned before resuming the uncoordinated three-way kiss.

Izuku realised he should try heed the advice from beyond the paper wall, but the utterly absurd squelching from between his legs was like a symphony that played louder than stupid childhood friends. 

Every slide of fingers had him quivering but he needed more, his entire body blazed with undefined heat urging him to chase the feeling. With little warning, Izuku’s wobbling left arm collapsed under the weakness brought from desperate need for completion. As he fell back, two hands gently caught him and lowered him smoothly onto the floor.

“Ah I’m burning Sho! Sorry, so-ahhhh” Hizashi whined as Izuku’s stroking stopped. The blond pulled back sharply, neglecting Shouta’s cock to began frantically stripping, Kicking his boots off to the side “Zu, baby, zuuuhhh- lemme ah-”

Izuku reached up with a small but pained cry to try help the blond, even though every millimetre of his body screamed at him help the teacher between his folds viciously rub his sweet spot.

Shouta, still knuckle deep in his hole, ducked down as he shuffled back, diving face first between Izuku’s legs and began lapping like a thirsty dog. As he loudly blurted “Fuck” a thimble of clarity gave him enough brain power and hand eye coordination to yank off Zashi’s trousers and finally, fully free the voice hero’s pulsing, hard cock and tight balls.

“Fuhhh- fuck my” a delectable curl of fingers in his sopping wet hole had him arching, all while trying to hoax Hizashi’s member towards his spit wetted lips. “Fuhh… my haaahh… fuck my mouth!”

The blond slid in without waiting a beat, sighing in relief. With the erotic urges somewhat abated, the radio host looked down at the freckled hero as he carefully cradled his head. Izuku stared back, tears streaming down his cheeks with the rapid and somewhat deep thrusts. 

“Sho, prep him- ahhh, god his mouth- Izuku, baby, can we-“ With a harder drive of his hips, Hizashi threw his head back, groaning loud and long, free of the worries about his quirk and that damn microphone. “Fuck this feels good, Izuku can we both fuck you? Fill you up real good, stuff those gorgeous holes? I bet you’d look so pretty bouncing between us-“

Izuku keened nasally, sending vibrations through the thick cock plunging into his mouth and throat over and over. The filthy words even had Shouta moaning, speeding up the frantic strokes of his own hard on. But the hero licking away didn’t hesitate, quickly pulling his fingers out to begin prepping Izuku’s ass so they could take a hole each.

“I’ll bet he’s- ahhh- wet enough right?” Hizashi’s voice sounded a little hoarse as he strained to keep the volume down. “But I don’t want to hurt him-“ 

Shouta nodded, twirling his skilled tongue in circles, teasing his clit a little as he abandoned his own dick to reach for Hizashi’s discarded jacket.

Despite the maddening feeling of being eaten out, fingered in the ass and face fucked, Izuku still tried see what Shouta was reaching for.

Heroes should be able to multi-task right?

“Its ok baby, I have lube innnnn- in my pocket, just focus on all the feelings, w-we’ve got you.”

For Shouta, neglecting his cock to fight a zip pocket became too much after a few seconds and the underground hero snarled, face still buried in Izuku’s pussy. 

All three were a mess but with his dick still plunged into the slobbery heat of Izuku’s mouth, Hizashi managed to rescue two small sachets and toss them down at him. “Can you help Sho out? Just pour it- Shouta, move your face for a second-“

Izuku hummed in response, jerking when a rough scarred thumb pad pressed harshly against his clit. Breathing through his nose, he sucked deeply enough for Hizashi to gasp and still his hips, finally giving him the respite to tear open the packet and pour the contents onto Shouta’s pistoning fingers. The glide became much smoother. While spit and slick had been doing an ok job, the pleasure he felt from behind heightened, helping him relax more.

“I- hahhh, god I want to come so bad, how far-“

Shouta knelt back, still loosening him up, still jerking himself. His lust filled gaze jumping between the two of them. “Zashi, just fuck your fist for a second and finish undressing him for me. If we don’t get this show on the road my dick is going to fall off.”

The blond looked resigned but nodded, pulling away to give Izuku’s jaw a welcome break. 

It didn’t take long but the three were at their limit, by the time Izuku was kneeling between them, the trio were gasping, pained expressions on their faces. 

“Keep touching yourself while we line up Izuku” Shouta’s dark voice tickled his ear, making him shiver and lean onto the man behind him. Ultimately, the instant the man stopped pawing at his erogenous zones, pain seared through his chest, making him flinch to resume the pleasure. 

Clearly the pollen on the fabric was lethal if not acted upon. The fact it was fired at them was something that Izuku found (now that his perky lil dick was once more preoccupied) utterly abhorrent.

“Deep- d- deep breath beautiful-” Hizashi muttered against his lips as he leant forward, desperately trying not to cry with the pain from holding back.

Izuku cocked his right leg, hooking it around the radio hero’s hip to aid the access. Following the advice given, he filled his lungs as two slippery but blunt heads pressed against him. 

“Zashi, you first-“

The raven haired hero behind him grasped his jaw, tilting his head to the side to start a passionate kiss. Their tongues engaged in a wet dance as a hot member pulled back briefly to join his fingers, twitching against his clit. But before he could whine, it slipped forward, breaching his hole with a long glide. 

“Full-“ he mumbled into the kiss as Hizashi finished his smooth thrust forward.

“God daaamn you’re tight, fucking feverishly hot” the blond rasped into his neck.

No sooner had he revelled in the cooling sensation in his chest from the appeased aphrodisiac did Shouta pull apart his cheeks.

“My turn-“ 

Izuku cried out in surprise. Not because it hurt or he wasn’t expecting it. His ass was fairly well prepped, the slight sting barely noticeable. 

It was the absolute bliss he felt that came as a shock.

His head rested against Shouta’s shoulder, his wide teary eyes staring at the roof, blinding lights be damned. 

When hips pressed against his back and front, the three fitting together like a perfectly cut jigsaw, a broad smile spread on his lips.

Euphoria tingled across the sweat soaked skin of all three of the heroes.

“Ahhh god yes, finally, ahhh I feel so full…”

The men in front and behind him locked lips over his shoulder, smiling into the kiss, both grabbing Izuku’s face and pulling him to join them. 

The temporary calm didn’t last long and the three found themselves heating up again, becoming antsy and irritable, something that could only go away with-

“Aaahhh!!” Izuku yelped as Hizashi snapped his hips forward, pulling out slowly just as Shouta copied the move, fingers digging into his plump cheeks before thrusting sharply. 

The two then engaged in a repetitive, well timed performance. One driving in as the other withdrew. The two, quite frankly, huge cocks punching in over and over like pistons in a frenetic engine.

Izuku was in heaven. Rapture coursed through his veins. He was holding onto Hizashi’s shoulder with his right hand, Shouta’s arm with his left, head once more tilted back to the atrium ceiling, crying out in ecstasy. The sweet musical composition of skin on skin, grunts and groans danced through the air.

“Zashi you’re right, he’s so hot-“

The blond interrupted, a high pitched, almost stunned cadence to his voice “-fuck its like my dick is melting, so good!! So good!!!”

Izuku clenched down after a slightly different angle pounded into the most delicious spot. His mind reeled, how could he have gone his whole life without pleasure like this!?

“Shit you’re cute. How can you be cute and fuckable at the same time Izuku?” Shouta nibbled his ear, gravelly voice in his ear, once more sending tingles down his spine. “Big beautiful eyes, adorable freckles, sweet little mumbles and yet hot as hell, taking two dicks like a pro, god damn.” 

The hero behind him punctuated the last two words with harder thrusts prompting him to cry out “Ah AH Sho, Zashi! Harder!! AAAH!!”

He turned his head, locking lips with the man, whimpering as the blond began sucking his neck, all the while keeping the pounding rhythm.

His other leg was jostled and lifted, the two hiking him upwards to change angles. The moaning became louder, the three devolving into practically yelling in delight, hips still driving forward over and over, snapping again and again as deep as possible.

While initially, the three felt a hopeless inability to finish, now the race was on. Ecstasy was building to towering heights, threatening them with a finish that seemed almost intimidating. 

Beyond the onslaught of bliss, Izuku wondered briefly if he was hallucinating, if finally the dizzying high had driven him insane… because it sounded like tv show opening songs were playing… but the moment of confusion was fleeting. 

Shouta reached around to almost cruelly pinch his clit as Hizashi twisted his nipple. The sudden influx of combined pleasure-pain had Izuku arching, muscles taut, the tight coil that had been building zinging and ready to break.

Both heroes bit down, a shoulder each, finally snapping the rigid thread holding him together. 

His orgasm was blinding, literally. Just wave upon wave of white hot, exquisite bliss surging through his entire body. Each pulse of pleasure tingled from his core to his fingertips, all other sensations fading away… until a hot flood of come filled both his holes, each man, in front and behind gripping his sides with bruising strength, tensing and gasping for air through the intensity of finishing.

It took a moment for the ringing in Izuku’s ears to subside enough to hear their combined panting… and-

“Why can I hear the theme song from Cowboy Bebop?” 

Izuku focused in on Hizashi’s confused face… and then everything else. 

The three at some point, he realised, had laid down on their sides. Both still inside of him, his right leg hoisted up high on Hizashi’s hip, Shouta curved behind him so he didn’t slip out. 

The floor felt a little uncomfortable, but the overwhelming exhaustion meant he cared little. No sooner had he melted at the sweet smile he received from the blond in front and the tender kiss to his jaw from the raven haired behind, did he find himself drifting off to sleep.

“Be ours, be ours, you’re perfect-“ Hizashi’s voice lilted sweetly, tender and soft, barely audible over the rest of the noise in the atrium. “You’re so lovely, we’ve liked you from afar for so long, we were so excited to finally… today… to finally….”

Izuku kissed the tip of his nose, shakily reaching up to stroke Shouta’s stubbly jaw. Completely disregarding the entire situation beyond their little bubble, he hummed, consciousness slipping away. “I’d like that, you’re both… wonderful…” 

.

.

.

Years of keeping one ear tuned, despite minimal wakefulness, gave Shouta more warning than the other two, that someone was approaching. A trickle of irritation crept into his chest upon hearing some very recognisable heavy boots. 

Shouta knew that gait. And given the position he was in, this could end quite badly.

Izuku woke barely a second later. The younger hero tensed, eyes snapping open as he twisted enough to glare daggers at the approaching man. 

“Its alright young Midoriya, I am here-“ All Might kept his voice to a deep gentle whisper in the now silent room, as he covered all three with a blanket “-to help you all get home.”

“Yeah… I want them both to come to my apartment.”

Shouta knew that pretending to be asleep was folly but he would rather run through the streets naked than face All Might while he was still literally buried in Izuku’s ass. It was well known that the larger than life, former Number One considered hero Deku his son.

“Very well, I’ll bring my car right up to the door. The atrium has been cleared… do you need help getting dre-“

“Nooooope, no, no thanks, hah… uhm… I’ll wake them up and we will be out in-“

“I’ll give you a moment, don’t worry.” 

Shouta immediately knew that dark beady eyes were on the back of his head, imagining sweet murder no doubt. But the sensation drifted away as, those big ass boots turned and walked back out of their quiet little safe space.

Silence fell over the three. He felt the rise of Izuku’s chest pressed beside him, his shoulder blades lifting as he filled his lungs, ready to wake them-

“We are so dead” 

Hizashi was also apparently awake and had reached the same conclusion.

Izuku’s chuckle only served to remind them that they were still very much connected. He and his husband bit back moans.

“Oh… s-sorry…” The hero between them froze, clearly realising that shifting forward or back would do none of them any favours.

As mournful as the thought was, he couldn’t avoid it any longer. So after a soft kiss to Izuku’s chilled, bare shoulder, Shouta began pulling out, wincing as he did, Hizashi following his action.

“Come on, lets go… before your dad plus ultra’s me and Zashi out of existence.”

It was an extremely awkward car ride. Forty nine painfully long minutes. Silent except for old fashioned music split by a single traffic report. Shouta was eternally grateful that Izuku took the front seat, leaving him and Hizashi to take the back seat and vehemently avoid meeting a sharp gaze in the reflection of the rearview mirror. 

All three of them practically leapt out of the car when it pulled up outside of a very smart looking apartment building. 

“Tha-“

“Izuku, head on inside, I have a couple of bags of your fan mail in the boot, Mr Aizawa and Mr Yamada can bring it up to you, I’ll give them my spare key.”

Despite leaving no room for argument, Izuku stuttered to press against it anyway. A valiant effort. Wasted of course as Toshinori doubled down.

“You’ve got your bag and I’m sure you’re… tired… they’ll be right up.”

Izuku flooded crimson with mortification. The insinuation looked strong enough to threaten dehydration from sudden sweating. His emerald curls bounced as he nodded and all but ran into the building, leaving him and Hizashi to their fate…

Surely All Might wouldn’t actually kill them, right? Izuku was literally waiting for them…

Still, it was with great trepidation that he and his husband went around to join Yagi Toshinori at the open boot of his car.

When they arrived at the man’s side, they found itempty, save for a single shovel.

The three were silent.

The threatening blond turned to his left and stared menacingly. “Oh I guess they're not here, I must have forgotten them.”

Sometimes, Hizashi had a knack for being intelligent and dumb all at once. In a spectacular display of that talent, he asked “Why do you have a shovel?”

“Why indeed.”

Shouta kept his face thoroughly blank. Despite the urge to bury his face in his mask, he stayed still, even as his husband leant in and whispered “Did All might just give us a shovel talk without saying any words? Sho, I’m scared-”

“Anyway you boys should go on ahead, my son is waiting for you.” Toshinori passed Hizashi the small key set and closed the boot with a little more force than necessary, turning to look at them with a baleful smile.

Shouta quickly clamped a hand onto Hizashi’s wrist, before his loveable idiot could say anything else and backed away, nodding in silent thanks.

Thanking the retired hero for the lift. 

And for the mercy.

All Might pulled his phone out of his pocket, gaze still locked with his, the eerie smile remaining, as he bought it to his ear.

“Izuku, I’m sorry I really thought I’d grabbed them… yes, I must’ve left them while rushing over to help… They’re on the way up.”

Shouta straight up just started running, yanking his surprised husband and dragging him like a flailing rag doll, towards the safety of the apartment building… towards the warm, open arms of Izuku.