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My Turn

Summary:

Candy-Cane is there, laying on the bed with Kirishima. They’re facing each other with their legs intertwined, wearing nothing but sweatpants. They have their arms casually draped over each other, toying with each others’ hair, stroking each others’ backs. Their faces are close, and they look each other in the eyes, soft, affectionate, and loving. It sends a shiver down your spine. You watch for a moment, unable to hear what they’re saying to each other so quietly and intimately. And then you kick in the door.

This fic is set after the events of Prep/Nerd/Jock/Goth when the characters are living together in college! Written as a birthday gift for the amazing SybLaTortue!

Notes:

Like Prep/Nerd/Jock/Goth, this fic was inspired by this fabulous art by SybLaTortue (tumblr and twitter). Get involved in her community to talk about her AUs!

Work Text:

Sometimes, living with your fucktruck roommates is almost too much of a hassle to tolerate. Deku walks around muttering to himself, which makes you grind your teeth, and he’s useless when it comes to almost every household chore. It’s obvious the damn prep grew up coddled. He can’t cook, he can’t clean, and he can barely do his own laundry. Candy-Cane is better off in that regard—you were shocked speechless to find that he’s actually good at home renovation and interior design—but he’s always there, breathing in your shared spaces, and that’s enough to push your patience when it comes to the infuriating jock. Only Kirishima manages to go most days without irritating the shit out of you. He can at least clean when you shove a dust cloth in his hand, and his personality doesn’t make you break out in hives. You weren’t expecting him to be so extroverted, though. You knew he was chatty from your high school gym class days, but you thought because of his goth aesthetic that he’d hide in the shadows when given his own space. Instead, he’s always out of his room, finding someone to bother. Between the three of them, you can’t find any peace in your personal life.

Not that it’s all bad. Sometimes living with your three lovers—one lover and two assholes you’re happy to fuck when the mood strikes—has its perks. And the perks can be pretty damn good.

Kirishima’s room is next to yours, and you pass it on the way to the kitchen. You usually don’t bother to glance past the crack in the door. His style of living makes your skin crawl, and whenever you catch a glimpse, you can’t control the impulse to kick the door open and clean up after him. You ain’t one of his damn moms. But today, you hear whispering from inside, and you’re nosy. You peek in.

Candy-Cane is there, laying on the bed with Kirishima. They’re facing each other with their legs intertwined, wearing nothing but sweatpants. They have their arms casually draped over each other, toying with each others’ hair, stroking each others’ backs. Their faces are close, and they look each other in the eyes, soft, affectionate, and loving. It sends a shiver down your spine. You watch for a moment, unable to hear what they’re saying to each other so quietly and intimately. And then you kick in the door.

They both look over to you, startled. “My turn,” you say as you march to the bed. You pull off your shirt, take off your glasses, and lift one knee onto the mattress. “Move over.” 

Candy-Cane scoots back until he’s against the wall, and you shove Kirishima after him until there’s plenty of space for you. “Hey, man,” Kirishima says, turning to get a better look at you as you get into the bed behind him. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mmm,” you say, and you push him onto his side so you can slot your body against his properly. “Did you fuckers have a sleepover last night?”

“My room was cold,” Candy-Cane says, “and Izuku has a test this morning.”

“We played some Smash,” Kirishima adds.

“Fascinating.” You run your fingers through Kirishima’s dark hair and pull it up off his neck so you can mouth at his skin. You feel him shiver when you tighten your grip. “What else did you do?”

“We had some sex,” Candy-Cane says. He may act like a clueless ditz, but he knows what you want to hear.

“‘Some’?” you repeat. “Just a little bit, huh?”

“Just a little bit,” Kirishima says. His voice is already growing husky. He’s so fucking easy. You run your teeth over his neck and bite down. His back arches slightly.

“We just woke up,” Candy-Cane explains. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his hand rest on Kirishima’s thigh and move up until his thumb brushes the juncture between thigh and crotch. You let go of Kirishima’s hair and lift yourself up to slap the hand away.

“My turn, asshole,” you snap. “You had your turn already.”

He pauses for just a second, and to your annoyance, his lip twitches into a smirk. “Jealous?”

“Who’d be jealous of you?” you retort. “Taking turns is elementary shit. You can sit there and watch patiently.”

“Oh,” he says, and his eyes widen with understanding. “You want me to watch.”

“I’m allowing you to watch,” you say. “Get it right.”

His eyes flicker to Kirishima’s, and his smirk widens slightly. “You do like it when I watch,” he says. Kirishima shifts. You look down at him, and his cheeks are red with a pretty blush. His eyes glimmer with that feverish quality that always betrays his lust. He’s not wearing his red color contacts, since he never wears them to bed, but he’s just as easy to read with his natural eye color. You can’t help but smirk, and you grab his chin, turning his face to meet you as you lean down for a kiss.

He melts for you. You kiss him roughly, since you know the other two dunces don’t. You know the way they fuck. They’re too gentle. Deku is a pervert who has the curiosity to find weird new kinks and the money to fund them, and Candy-Cane can be a passionate lover when he gets in the mood, but neither of them seem to get that Kirishima likes a little bite at the end of a kiss. He doesn’t cover himself in piercings because he’s afraid of pain, that’s for damn sure. You bring his tongue into your mouth and catch his tongue piercing with your teeth. Your hand snakes around him to palm at his pec and pinch his pierced nipple. He squirms, delicious little noises stalling in his throat. You pull away and tug his sweatpants down his hips.

His dick catches on the waistband. A small spot grows dark at the head where precum soaks through the fabric. Your smirk widens. “You didn’t get enough, didja? Candy-Cane ain’t doing his job.”

“Shouto,” Candy-Cane corrects you for what must be the millionth time. “And we just woke up.” His voice is pitched a note lower. You glance over to him as he lifts his own hips up to take off his pants. As much as he annoys you, watching him strip down to nothing always turns up the heat in your stomach. His well-toned, athletic physique is mouth-watering. You love tracing the line of his hipbone down to his crotch as the fabric pulls away. His dick curves up towards his stomach, laying against the white and red line of hair that trails lazily to his belly-button.

You almost forget to finish pulling off Kirishima’s pants. He reaches down himself and yanks them off, freeing up his own cock. It’s not as long as Candy-Cane’s, but it’s thicker, wetter, and deeply colored with his arousal. It’s not pierced…yet. You slide your hand over and toy playfully with the black hair at its base. His hips jerk.

“Stay still,” you order. He swallows a whine, but he listens because he wants to. He likes it when you tell him what to do while you fuck him. You’ve never witnessed Deku or Candy-Cane take control like that, even when Deku’s holding ropes and ball-gags. They’re all praise and gentle words, no authority or domination. It makes you hot to know Kirishima’s only yours this way.

You wrap your fingers briefly around the base of his cock but then move your hand down to fiddle half-heartedly with his balls. He groans. You can feel him resisting the urge to move your hand where he wants it or to press his hips up for more contact. You bend over him and take his pierced nipple into your mouth, lapping at it with your tongue, rolling the piercing with your teeth, mean enough to earn a gasp. The sound goes to your crotch, reminding you that your dick is still trapped under fabric. 

“Candy-Cane—”

“Shouto.”

“—suck him off.” 

“I thought you wanted me to watch.”

“Do you wanna touch him or not?” You don’t say more than that. You know he wants to do it. Sure enough, he moves down the mattress without any more hesitation to nuzzle into Kirishima’s crotch. You turn to strip off your pants and toss them off the bed, and you open the drawer on the nightstand that you know houses Kirishima’s lube. As if in response to the sound of the drawer opening, Kirishima’s breath hitches audibly. You turn back to the gorgeous sight of Candy-Cane pressing his tongue flat against the dark head of Kirishima’s dick, one hand gripping the shaft and the other cupping his ballsack. You smirk and uncap the lube.

“That pretty face is good for something,” you say. Candy-Cane’s eyes flicker up to yours. He doesn’t have the decency to look insulted. Instead, he wraps his lips around just the head of Kirishima’s dick and sucks, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time. Kirishima gasps out strangled noises as Candy-Cane holds him in his mouth and teases the head of his cock with his tongue. Your own cock twitches with want.

You dump lube onto your fingers and rub it with your thumb to warm it a bit. You push Kirishima fully onto his side and lean over his ear to say, “Don’t tense.” You kiss his neck as you trace the ring of his asshole, slow and languid, pressing against the entrance just slightly but not fully pushing in. At the same time, like he knows what you’re doing, Candy-Cane takes his cock down deep into his throat. Kirishima groans into the pillow, and you want to thrust straight into him now, but you’re not that much of a sadist and he’s not that much of a masochist. Probably.

You press in the first finger. Despite your command, he does tense just for a beat, and then he gives way to you. You coax him to open for you, sliding in deep and grazing the sweet spot in him, just enough to let him know you’re teasing. “Katsuki…” he murmurs, and you quiet him with a bite. You pull your finger out, add more lube, and insert two fingers. He hums in his throat. You get closer to applying real pressure to his prostate, but not close enough. He wants to squirm, to force your fingers against it—you can tell in the small shivers wracking his body that he’s holding himself back. He’s not even jerking his hips into Candy-Cane’s eager mouth, even though his hands are buried in red and white hair. A film of sweat is covering his skin. He reaches up to push his black and red bangs back so they don’t stick to his forehead.

“One more,” you say. “Don’t cum.” You insert the last finger, and he whines. Candy-Cane’s eyes dart up to yours. He slides his mouth off Kirishima’s swollen dick and goes back to licking and stroking the shaft lazily, just enough to keep him on edge but not enough to push him over. With three fingers in, you work him open and finally put pressure down on his prostate.

“Ah—!” he gasps, and he pulls Candy-Cane’s face away from his cock. “Wait, I’m—”

“Wait?” you repeat. Candy-Cane crawls back up the bed until he’s level with the two of you, and he turns Kirishima’s face to him. You watch them kiss, Candy-Cane’s lips pink from sucking cock, and it makes your dick throb. But not yet. While Kirishima’s mouth is busy, you rub his prostate mercilessly, making sure he’s well and ready to take you.

He squirms. Candy-Cane keeps their lips together, carding his fingers through thick black hair, swallowing the sounds Kirishima makes. His other hand reaches up to roll Kirishima’s nipple. You smirk and finger Kirishima until he’s gasping and panting into Candy-Cane’s mouth. He finally pulls his lips away and whimpers, “Kats—Katsuki, c’mon—”

It’s enough. You pull your fingers out, cover your cock with lube, and bring it to his entrance. Both of you moan as you press the head in, slowly enough for him to get used to the size and shape of it. You start with a few small, short thrusts, burying yourself a little deeper each time. You reach around to take his cock in your hand, but you’re surprised to find his own hand wrapped around both his cock and Candy-Cane’s. You slap his hand out of the way and grip them both, your palm still slippery with lube. Candy-Cane exhales out a small gasp. It’s as much as you ever get from him, and you start to pump them erratically, just as your thrusts begin to pick up pace.

Kirishima reaches back to palm your ass as you slap your hips into him. He’s so tight, so warm, so fucking perfect. Another hand joins yours around the cocks—Candy-Cane’s, by the feel of it. You lock eyes with him. Kirishima has buried his face into his neck, murmuring expletives into his collarbone. Candy-Cane leans forward, and you dive into his lips, kissing him hard enough to bruise. He thrusts his cock into your hands, grinding against Kirishima’s, and Kirishima moans low into his neck. He’s close. You all are.

“Not yet,” you hiss into Kirishima’s ear, and Candy-Cane takes control of your mouth again. You thrust deep, making sure to hit Kirishima’s sweet spot. He’ll try to hold back as long as you tell him to, but you’re mean, and you’re going to make it fucking hard for him. You’re going to wreck him. You let go of their dicks to sink your fingers into Kirishima’s hipbones, and you fuck him ruthlessly, panting against Kirishima’s neck, Candy-Cane’s lips peppering your forehead with useless kisses. You feel it building. The heat coils and pressurizes until it erupts, and it floods through you. You thrust as deep as you can and come into Kirishima with a heady groan. His body jerks with a few short movements, and then he’s tightening around you, too, milking the last of your orgasm out of you. You collapse against him bonelessly, flush against his back so you can feel his heart beating in his chest.

Only Candy-Cane still moves. He jostles against Kirishima, shifting the mattress, until he jolts and stills with a sigh. He pauses for a moment or two, and then he cuddles up to Kirishima, close enough to throw his arm over both of you. It’s sweaty and hot, and you debate swinging yourself off of the bed and heading straight for the shower. It seems like such a chore to move, though. You surrender to the sweaty heat of Kirishima’s back and Shouto’s arm, and you end up gradually, accidentally falling asleep.

A familiar voice breaks you out of your nap. “You all got comfy, didn’t you?” Deku says. His tone is amused. You groan and bury your face into Kirishima’s hair.

“Join us,” Shouto says.

“I have homework to do…”

“Who doesn’t?” you snap. “Come or go, take your pick.”

There’s a pause, but it’s followed by the rustling of fabric and a shift on the mattress. Deku crawls up behind you. You grumble halfheartedly as he lays down against your back. “Too hot.”

“I can open a window,” Deku offers.

“Come here,” Shouto says. His arm lifts from your waist and pulls Deku towards him. You bite down a comment as Deku clambers over both you and Kirishima, almost ruining the heavy feeling of comfort that’s blanketed you. If you weren’t fully awake before, you are now. Kirishima laughs quietly, and he pushes you back a bit to give Deku enough room to squirm down between him and Candy-Cane. There’s a brief pause.

“It’s sticky.”

“That’s Shouto’s.”

“Um…”

“Come or go, fucking prep!” you snap.

“Okay, okay.” He finally settles in, and after another brief period of shifting, you all grow still. Although you don’t fall fully into another nap, you do relax into a deep, comfortable peace until lunchtime.

Your fucktruck roommates annoy you. If you weren’t around to hold the house together, you’re sure the whole thing would fall apart. They’re lucky to have someone competent around. And sometimes, when they aren’t being annoying, you don’t even mind.

 

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