Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11093907.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      僕のヒーローアカデミア_|_Boku_no_Hero_Academia_|_My_Hero_Academia
  Relationship:
      Kirishima_Eijirou/Midoriya_Izuku
  Character:
      Ashido_Mina, Bakugou_Katsuki, Todoroki_Shouto, Kaminari_Denki
  Additional Tags:
      Voyeurism, Drugged_Sex, Drug_Use, Non-Consensual_Drug_Use
  Series:
      Part 1 of KiriDeku_Kink_Bingo
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-06-04 Words: 2602
****** Get it on the Floor ******
by fotoshop_cutout
Summary
     Midoriya goes to a club with Class 1-A, and gets more than he
     bargained for.
Notes
     This completed Square Six: drugs/aphrodisiacs. Warnings for not
     necessarily consensual drug use, and for Bakugou's creeper ways.
     Title from "On the Floor" a Melamin Remix.
     Un-beta'd.
Midoriya hadn’t thought that ‘going out’ with his classmates would mean going
to a place like this. Judging from a few other looks being passed around,
others hadn’t exactly thought this was what was in store for the night either.
Ashido-chan grinned and thrust her hands in the air, letting out a whoop before
dragging Tsuyu off into the undulating crowd.
To be fair, all the girl (and Jirou-chan) had claimed was that they were going
to dance and listen to good music. That they could all hang out and relax this
way. So now the entire 1-A class of Yuuei was at a club, of all places.
Bakugou, hands shoved in his pockets and a scowl on his face, led the way to a
booth and sat himself in a corner, obviously trying to be as not included as
possible. Kaminari shrugged and went up to order drinks, and somehow returned
with chips, fries, and sauces instead. Then Sero and Uraraka handled the
beverage situation. Todoroki and Tokoyami stood awkwardly off to one side, not
convinced that sitting at the booth was a good idea. Midoriya kept off to the
side, jostled this way and that as everyone started chatting. Ashido returned
to pull Hagakure out, enjoying one of the club’s songs in earnest.
As the night progressed, people who were not part of the class got pulled into
the booth, mixing with their classmates and chatting happily. Bakugou still
squished himself into the corner, and Ashido had succeeded in getting a large
majority of them out on the dancefloor, if even for a single song. When the
pink skinned girl yanked on Izuku’s sleeve, he knew better than to fight it,
and allowed her to drag him out through the crowd. There was a pocket of
Aoyama, Kirishima, Hagakure, Ojiro and Kaminari that they joined up with,
pressed close.
Everyone was damp with sweat, whether from the dancing or the close proximity
to one another, and Izuku was slightly uncomfortable with everything. It was
Kaminari’s new friend, a slightly older guy who had talked his way into the
group earlier in the evening, that asked if he was okay. He shrugged and
watched as Aoyama wrapped an arm around Hagakure while dancing. The guy then
raised his eyebrows and sidled, close, hand lifting up to swipe something into
his mouth. Izuku glanced, his eyebrows knitting together before the guy was
leaning in close—perhaps to say something—Izuku leaned in to hear him when his
hand cupped the back of his head, lips pressed to lips. There was an instant
where the only thing Izuku could think about was that there was beads of sweat
on the guy’s upper lip and his breath was cloying and sweet like he’d had too
many sodas.
Izuku felt the wet muscle push past his lips and deposit an already dissolving
pill into his mouth, pushing it to the back corner and between his cheek and
teeth. When the guy pulled away—more quickly than Izuku had thought he
might—his eyes were hooded and he spoke in a husky voice. “That should help you
relax.”
Kaminari was looking slightly disgusted by the whole thing, or whatever he had
seen of it and elbowed the guy in the ribs, shoving him out of their circle.
Ashido was grinning and teasing Izuku as his face reddened, and Kirishima was
staring at him with wide eyes. Izuku swallowed thickly—the pill mostly
dissolved and washing down with it, and cleared his throat. His body felt warm,
warmer than it had before, and Kaminari was leaning close to apologize. Izuku
just blinked and shook his head, telling the blond that it wasn’t his fault.
Before he knew it, the pill was a faint memory and he was feeling much more
relaxed, dancing with Ashido, Uraraka when she joined them, trying to pull
Todoroki out with him (and succeeding for one song), and being crushed between
Kirishima and Hagakure for a song. Hagakure left them for a drink back at the
booth, and Izuku could feel his ability to control his own actions slipping as
he faced the redhead he’d been dancing next to, slinging his arm around his
shoulders and pulling him close, their foreheads meeting.
“You dance well.” Izuku could feel the words leaving his mouth, but couldn’t
stop them. Kirishima’s eyes were rounder than normal and he asked if Izuku was
okay. Izuku nodded, a happy smile on his face as he pressed closer to the
redhead, eyes hooded. It was whatever that pill was, Izuku knew it, but
everything felt amazing. Every accidental brush, every touch while dancing. He
had so much energy, too—he felt like he could dance all night and never be
tired. A small huff of breath, contented, expelled from his mouth as he pressed
their chests together. It was like a cold drink of water on a summer day, the
feeling of the other boy against him.
He tipped his head without a thought, slotting their lips together perfectly
and swiping his tongue out, chasing more of that feeling. He felt Eijirou tense
up against him, and then relax, leaning into him, still moving with the music.
The thumping of the bass could be felt in Izuku’s chest, and he imagined it was
his heartbeat as he rolled his hips forward into Kirishima’s. When the redhead
broke the kiss, panting, Izuku hadn’t realized how much his lungs were crying
out for air. He panted alongside, eyes meeting the red ones across from him,
feeling as though having everything the boy could give wouldn’t feel like it
was enough.
He dove back in, one hand wound into the red, spikey hair while the other
pushed up past the boy’s shirt, raking his fingernails down his side and
yanking his hips in close. Izuku knew he was making sounds into the kiss, but
he couldn’t quite figure out what they were. This time when they broke for air,
Kirishima’s expression was a little different, a note of worry mixed in with
the lust that Izuku was pretty sure he was mirroring. Izuku leaned in to
reassure the redhead, but couldn’t ignore the jaw and earlobe on his way:
nipping, licking, and sucking on the salty skin there before he remembered what
he’d been about to do. Breathily, “Don’t stop; gods you’re so hot.”
That hadn’t been what he’d wanted to say to him, but it seemed to do the trick,
because Izuku was leaning backward, arm slung around the redhead’s shoulders
while he all but attacked his neck, his collarbone. There was a tap on his
shoulder and a few words were exchanged, but Izuku couldn’t remember who said
what or what was said, just that he was being dragged off the dancefloor,
fingers intertwined with Kirishima’s. It wasn’t enough contact, not after the
dancing, touching, pressing.
When they broke free from the more densely packed crowd, Izuku spotted a wall
and decided that was good enough, yanking on the hand attached to his and
spinning so his back connected with the brick wall. He shivered at the
difference in temperature between the heavy heat of the crowd and the brick
wall, suddenly crashed against by the redhead’s body. Izuku’s hand was already
pulling him in for another kiss, rolling his hips into the ones against his. He
groaned into the boy’s mouth, fingers tangling in various pieces of clothing.
Kirishima pulled back enough to keep the green haired boy trapped against the
wall, but enough to speak.
“Dude, you need to stop—something’s—”
But Izuku didn’t care to hear that, so he rolled his hips, feeling Kirishima’s
hard length beneath his black jeans, pressed against the zipper. Izuku
whimpered, one hand clutching the redhead closer as the One for All user leaned
in and pressed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses against his neck. Eijirou panted and
whined, unable to help himself from reciprocating the friction before finding
some self-control again, stuttering out the rest of what he’d been saying.
“something’s—ah!—not right. Fuck.”
Izuku bit down, hard, sucked on the skin between his teeth and worried the
patch before releasing, tongue swiping Kirishima’s jawline. He felt a hand, hot
as sin, travel beneath his shirt on his abdomen, squished between the redhead
and himself, then snaking down toward the waistline of his pants and dipping
beneath. A ragged moan left his lips as he tipped his head back, feeling it
connect solidly with the wall behind him. Eijirou swore, “Shit, are you okay?”
His free hand wandered up to cup behind Izuku’s head, but he hadn’t felt it so
much as the hand in his pants. Izuku swallowed and nodded, guiding Kirishima’s
face to his neck, watching as the redhead peered up at him before devouring
him. Izuku knew his lips wouldn’t stop moving, but he only heard certain
phrases pass them. He panted for forever, their hips rolling in tandem and
creating delicious friction there. One of Izuku’s legs hooked up, around
Kirishima’s hip, allowing them to crush closer together against the wall. A few
feet away another couple was lost in one another, and beyond that Izuku could
barely see their classmates at the booth through the crowd. It was more
dispersed around there, but it appeared that a couple of them were peering
through the crowd, likely trying to find where they had gotten off to.
Izuku snapped back as sharp teeth met the juncture of his shoulder and neck, a
nip, not enough to draw blood. Izuku groaned and felt the shiver travel down
his back. “Fuck me, Eiji, please. Gods I need you to fuck me.”
Wide red eyes met his and he keened, yanking him in to kiss him again. Eijirou
broke away relatively quickly, eyebrows knit together on his forehead. “Okay,
what the fuck are you on?”
Izuku groaned and tried to move his hips to get back that feeling from just a
moment ago. He tipped his head back, uttering a sound of frustration when the
other boy didn’t move at all, didn’t react, just narrowed his eyes at him.
Eijirou continued, moving his face closer to Izuku’s, but this time to just
look at him, staying infuriatingly out of reach for kissing purposes.
“Seriously—did you take something? Drink something? This isn’t—I mean, I wish
it was, but it just doesn’t seem like… you.”
“Please, Eiji. Please. Just fuck me already. Nothing’s wrong, I just need you.”
He tried to seem honest, but he got the feeling he just looked desperate.
Kirishima was just shaking his head, but he leaned back in, murmuring against
the skin just under his ear.
“Fuck me, I can’t say no to you.” A tongue lapped at him there and a hand
pushed into his pants again, fingertips barely contacting his dick. He
whimpered and bit his lower lip, eyesight going hazy as he thrusted toward the
other boy, yanking him up to kiss again. Kirishima’s mouth wandered down the
other side of his neck, Izuku turning his head to the side, eyes peeking open
and seeing the booth filled with their friends again. This time, however, a few
of them were not there, and another pair of red eyes watched with apparent
interest from the far corner, very obviously set on them.
He broke eye contact as Eijirou backed away and snatched up his hand again,
dragging him off, away from the booth. Izuku glanced over his shoulder once,
seeing the explosive blond making his way out of the booth before Izuku was
pulled around the corner and into another room. The air was frigid compared to
that in the club, and the door fell shut beside them as the redhead pushed him
back, making him stumble and the folding table skid across the floor. Beer and
liquor bottles clanked in their boxes, some on the table and some stored
beneath, but Izuku was too busy licking his lips and letting Kirishima push him
back to sit on the table to really hear it. His belt and pants were undone and
his own hands were working on Eijirou’s, their mouths almost never parting. One
of the redhead’s hands pulled something from his back pocket, ripping foil and
pushing his underwear down enough to roll a condom on.
Izuku’s mouth watered, and while part of him wondered why this was—how come
this was the first time he’d ever really considered doing anything like this,
least of all with another guy—the other part of him was begging and pleading
for more. Kirishima’s skin was scorching as he lifted Izuku up, pausing to
arrange the green haired boy’s legs around his hips, before he was crashing him
back against the nearest wall, the slide of a wrapped dick in the cleft of
Izuku’s ass. He shivered and raked his nails down Eijirou’s back, wondering if
he left any marks with the shirt between them. Suddenly needing it off, he
yanked at the material, allowing Kirishima to lean back enough to pull it over
his head and deposit it on the floor next to them. Izuku whined and rolled his
hips as his hands wandered over the redhead’s broad shoulders and down his back
again, this time making sure to leave welts.
Featherlight touches of fingers down his hips, around to grip his ass hard,
squeezing and causing them to roll in just the right way, teasing both of them.
Kirishima was careful enough to stretch him before, his fingers sliding in and
out, scissoring in such a way that left Izuku a whimpering, writhing mess
against the wall. Eijirou’s lips were against Izuku’s neck as he entered, the
stretch from his dick being much more than that of his fingers. Izuku could
only feel a slight burning sensation through the haze of absolute pleasure,
however, and was very quickly pushing back against the shallow thrusts the
redhead was giving him.
Eijirou cursed against his skin, praising him and bracing against the wall,
framing Izuku’s head, occasionally lifting his head to tangle tongues with the
slightly smaller boy, sloppy kisses leaving trails of saliva over their skin.
It didn’t take them long to set an almost hazardous pace, the thrusts hard
enough to jostle Izuku against the wall. He tore his mouth away to ask for
more, and that was when he saw the door was cracked open. He met Bakugou’s eyes
as he panted out the pleading words, “Harder, fuck Eiji, that’s so good.”
Bakugou’s red eyes were darker than Kirishima’s, Izuku noted, but he didn’t
break eye contact until Kirishima had worked his mouth up the column of his
neck again and Izuku tipped his head back to dip his tongue back into his
mouth, fingernails digging into the redhead’s shoulders. Izuku heard the praise
when they parted, Eijirou speaking against his lips. “So fucking tight, fuck
‘zuku. I’m—I’m gonna cum.”
Izuku whimpered, throwing his head back against the wall as Kirishima followed
that with a couple of powerful thrusts, eyes closing and dick twitching as he
came. Izuku keened, the thrusts having hit just the right place inside him,
sending him spiraling toward his own orgasm, his cum spurting up between his
own shirt and Kirishima’s abs. As Kirishima tipped his head to kiss him again,
Izuku eagerly reciprocated, lost in the post-orgasmic feeling.
It wasn’t until a week later, when Kirishima had him pinned down on the bed,
that he admitted that there had been an unknown substance in pill form
involved. He never did tell the redhead about Bakugou’s weird voyeurism.
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