The doorbell rings and Katsuki opens the door to a man in short shorts and a tank top holding holding a wrench. His red hair is spiked up and he glances past Katsuki's shoulder into the house, then smiles at him. "Is this the Bakugou residence? My name's Kirishima. I'm here to repair the washing machine."

"This is," says Katsuki coolly, stepping aside to make room for the repair main.

Kirishima enters and glances around the entryway. "Is your husband home?" he asks.

"He's out," says Katsuki carefully. "You can leave your shoes on. Washing machine is in the basement."

Kirishima brushes his hand against the small of Katsuki's back and says, "Lead the way."

They approach the staircase that leads down to the basement and Katsuki flicks on the light switch. The stairs creak and groan with every step until finally they make their way down to the fully finished basement. Katsuki leads Kirishima through the lounge to the laundry room in the corner. Kirishima whistles appreciatively at the room and closes the distance between Katsuki and himself.

"This is nice," he says. "Your husband has good taste."

"Duh," agrees Katsuki. "He's married to me."

"Is that so?" Kirishima gives him a knowing smirk, but Katsuki pays him no mind, focusing on opening the door to the laundry room and turning on the light.

"Here it is," he says. The laundry room is simple: a washer and dryer, a table for folding laundry, a single-basin sink, and shelves lined with cleaning supplies. There's a single basket of dirty laundry on the floor by the wall that Katsuki bends down to push aside. He feels Kirishima's heated gaze on him when he does so.

Katsuki stands and approaches the washer. "There's a knocking sound," he explains, coming to a stop directly in front of it and bends forward slightly to lift the lid.

Kirishima approaches Katsuki from behind, presses his hardened body against Katsuki's and drops the wrench. He snakes his hands around Katsuki's hips, grabbing firmly on the joints so that he has a strong hold on Katsuki's inner thighs.

"What are you doing?" Katsuki barks, adrenaline kicking in and making his heart speed up.

"Fixing a problem," says Kirishima. "Don't tell me you weren't expecting this, dressed like that. Wearing that tiny skirt that does nothing to cover your body and bending over for me to see that sweet ass of yours."

"I'm married!" Katsuki reminds him.

Kirishima snaps his hips forward, thrusting Katsuki into the washing machine and making his knees buckle. One of his hands releases the hold it has on Katsuki's thigh and slides to his cock, fisting it with a firm stroke. "And you said he isn't here." Kirishima reminds him. "Awfully foolish of him to let another man into his home when he's not around." He strokes Katsuki, earning a moan that Katsuki tries his best to suppress.

"You can't do this!" Katsuki chokes out between moans.

"I don't see anyone here to stop me. Look at how badly you want me. You're already leaking like the whore you are." He continues to stroke Katsuki with a roughness that forces Katsuki to grip the mouth of the washing machine to brace himself. Kirishima seizes the opportunity to unzip the front of his shorts, pulling his own cock free of the denim confines. He grinds it into Katsuki's ass, thick and hot. The tip kisses the rim of Katsuki's hole and Kirishima sinks his teeth into Katsuki's shoulder.

Katsuki cries out at the pain. Kirishima drags his tongue over the bite mark and pushes his cock effortlessly into Katsuki's ass. "Look at you, already so wet for me. You're sucking me right in. How bad did you want this?"

"I didn't." Katsuki protests.

"And yet you're clenching down so hard on my dick you could break it off. Is that what you want? To break off my dick and keep it stuffed inside you so that no one can ever fill you up again the way I do?"

"No." Katsuki cries, moaning as Kirishima fucks into him. Katsuki's knees hit the cool metal of the washing machine and Kirishima snakes his hand back around to the front to grip Katsuki's inner thighs again.

"I'm gonna fill you up," grunts Kirishima, "stuff you so full with my cum you get pregnant and ruin any chances you have of remaining with your husband."

Katsuki pleads with him to stop, babbling between moans and punch out gasps as Kirishima strokes his cock and thrusts mercilessly into him. His cockhead kisses the washer as Kirishima fists him and Katsuki shivers at the sensation.

"That's right. Take it. Feel me inside you. I bet your husband has never made you feel this good."

"Katsuki moans."

"Say it," demands Kirishima, squeezing harshly on Katsuki's cock and sinking his teeth into Katsuki's shoulder once more.

Katsuki cries out and says, "He's—he's never—never made me feel this good before."

"Good." Kirishima purrs. He pumps Katsuki's cock faster and Katsuki goes pliant, weak to Kirishima's assault on his body.

"G-gonna…" he trails off between a moan.

"That's right," encourages Kirishima. "Cum for me. Cum for me like you've never cum for your husband before."

Katsuki does. His vision blurs and his knees tremble. The broken cry of a moan he lets out fills his ears as he paints the front of the already white washing machine whiter. Kirishima fucks him harder and continues to stroke him until he's satisfied that he thoroughly milked out every last drop of Katsuki's orgasm. Katsuki falls into the front of the washing machine, cradling the appliance for support as Kirishima relinquishes his hold on Katsuki's cock and grips his hips so harshly they will undoubtedly bruise.

He assaults Katsuki's ass, buries himself until the head of his own cock pounds repeatedly against Katsuki's prostate. He's fucked into overstimulation, unable to do anything but feel—feel the cool metal against his bare skin, feel the stimulation of his abused prostate, feel the grip of Kirishima's fingers on his hips.

When he finally relents, it's with a stuttered thrust and a deep groan. Katsuki feels the way his insides are filled by Kirishima's spend, painting every last millimeter in white warmth. He drapes himself unceremoniously over Katsuki's body, sweat dripping onto the nape of Katsuki's neck. Kirishima keeps himself stuffed inside of Katsuki. Katsuki feels the twitch of his thick, hot cock as he stays hard within. He kisses the bite mark on Katsuki's shoulder.

"Was that good?" he asks sheepishly.

Katsuki cranes his neck to look Eijirou in the eyes from over his shoulder. He rolls his eyes at him, then kisses the corner of his mouth. "Of course it was good, idiot. It was with you."

"It always feels weird to say stuff like that." Eijirou whines, then finally pulls himself free of Katsuki's body.

"You're getting better at it. Damn near had me convinced you were a stranger." Katsuki smirks at him teasingly. "Will you grab a towel out of the basket?"

Eijirou complies, grabbing a towel and wiping Katsuki down. They strip out of their ruined clothes and toss the load into the wash. When Katsuki turn on the machine, it rattles with a vengeance.

"Fuck." Katsuki curses.

Eijirou's eyes go wide at the irony. "Now it really is broken."

"Shut the fuck up." Katsuki slams a fist down on the machine and the rattling stops as it continues to fill with water.