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“Hey,” Denki says to him across the table, raising his voice to be heard over the music and the raucous laughter of their friends. “You look tenser than usual.”
Katsuki grunts: he’s not going to dignify that with a proper response.
“I’m not gonna ask you about your feelings or anything, but I do wanna help.”
Katsuki grunts again, but he’s curious.
Denki leans in, cups the back of Katsuki’s neck with a warm hand, says, “I could tear you apart if you’d let me,” and leans back with a smug fucking smirk.
Katsuki says yes, as he always does.
***
“There we go,” Denki tells him now. “You’re relaxing, honey, good.”
Katsuki is not fucking relaxing. He’s a sobbing, convulsing mess around the cock plugging up his throat. His chest is heaving for air that he can’t suck in because Denki’s hold on his hair is unshakeable, bridling him, keeping his lips around the base of Denki’s cock and his nose pressed into soft blond curls.
Katsuki is experiencing nirvana.
Denki pulls out just before the edges of his vision fade away, and Katsuki gulps in a deep, aching gasp of air.
“You’re doing so well, baby.”
He chokes in a few more breaths, tongue lolling out of his mouth, before he leans into the full weight of Denki’s praise. He hates that it rockets through him, neck to spine and then right down to his dick, but he’s nosing into Denki’s hand to get closer to it.
Katsuki waits, panting like a dog, and Denki walks away.
He drops his head in frustration, his forehead hitting the padded bench below him with a thud. He wants to scream or reach out for Denki’s hips or jack himself off but he can’t fucking move: heavy-duty straps hold his wrists, ankles and waist tight to the bench, legs splayed, ass up, zero friction where he needs it most.
“Please, please,” he whines, and then, “Fuck.”
“Oh, yeah,” Denki says from somewhere behind him, probably getting a great view of his ass on full display. Katsuki presses his face into the padded bench because he knows exactly which rule he’s broken. “You just messed up. But that’s okay, isn’t it?”
A feather-light touch on the sole of his foot that has him almost jumping out of his skin, and then a firm grip on his ankle. “Because we know how to fix that, don’t we?” A full body shudder rolls through him.
“Yes,” he says quietly, gritting his teeth.
“So, what did you do wrong?” Denki asks, sending a warning spark of electricity up Katsuki’s leg. He raises his head and glares at nothing in the middle-distance, preparing himself.
“I said please,” Katsuki grinds out, and a hot, miserable tear rolls down his cheek.
“Mmhm,” Denki says, pauses, and brings his fingertips down hard against Katsuki’s dick. There should be pain, and there is, radiating outwards, but it’s chased by a heady wave of prickling pleasure. He clenches his jaw and the would-be gasp instead escapes as a high-pitched whine.
“But please is good. You’re being polite. So why was it wrong here?” Katsuki drops his mouth open to suck in lungfuls of air that suddenly seem too hot for his body.
“Because,” Katsuki says, and has to take another breath before continuing. “You told me I didn’t have to ask for anything.”
“That’s right,” Denki says, and Katsuki braces again. He hears the next spank before he feels it, sharp pain and then a wave of—
“Close!” Katsuki near screams, arching his back and digging his nails into his palms to hold back the oncoming orgasm. Denki’s hands leave him as he quivers, teetering on the edge and so desperate to both fall and to hold on, if only for the beautiful, soothing words that Denki will have for him if he does.
As soon as he thinks he’s back from that dangerous edge, Denki’s hand rests on his lower back and smoothes over the curve of his ass. It’s not helping matters.
“Good boy,” he coos. “That was so good, you did very well. I’m really proud of you.” Another wave of tears roll down Katsuki’s cheeks. “You did good, letting me know. Are we okay to continue your punishment?”
“Yes,” he breathes.
“So,” Denki says. “I told you that you don’t ask for anything. What were you asking for?”
“More of you. Just—more.”
“Hm,” Denki says, and spanks his dick again. The pain-pleasure rolls through him, curling his toes, but he’s able to hold himself together. “And you know why I don’t want you asking for anything, don’t you?”
“Yes,” he gasps, “yes.” Denki waits.
“Do you remember your colours?” Denki asks, a soothing hand rubbing up and down the back of his calf.
“Green. Sorry, I just—” He doesn’t even know why he’s stalled. All he knows is that he’s both floating and drowning and he never wants it to stop. “What was the question?”
“Tell me why you’re not to ask for anything tonight,” Denki says. Katsuki swallows loudly and a shudder rolls through his upper back.
“Because I’m not making decisions tonight.”
“Correct,” Denki says, and spanks him. Katsuki keens. He’s simultaneously too hot and too cold, so close to burning up and shattering completely. “Because?”
“Because you are,” he says, past sobbing, going limp in his restraints. “You decide everything for me.”
“Good boy.” Denki slaps his dick, but there’s more behind it this time: when he makes contact, a spark jumps from his fingers to Katsuki and it burns, it hurts without the followup haze of pleasure and yet he’s careening towards the edge again. Denki pulls away before Katsuki has to speak, but he does anyway:
“Close, close close close,” he whines, rocking his hips, but his chest and shoulders lay perfectly lax against the bench and he thinks he might finally understand.
He listens to Denki’s soft footfalls as he moves to the top end of the bench, but he doesn’t look up. He’s rewarded with fingers carding through his sweaty hair.
“Katsuki, sweetie, look at me. There we go.”
Denki does the hard work for him, tilting his head up, and Katsuki meets his eyes gratefully. Denki is blindingly bright and Katsuki would bask in his light forever.
“You can take more, can’t you?” Denki says, and Katsuki thinks he can’t, he’s being spun apart at the seams, but he’s in such a dreamlike haze that he never wants it to stop.
“Yes,” he says, and means it. “More.”
“Good boy.” Denki strokes a thumb over his mouth, pushes it between his lips, and Katsuki opens his mouth to let it inside, but Denki is already pulling away. “We’re going to go back to the electricity, alright?”
Katsuki nods into the bench.
“Come whenever you like, but it won’t make me stop,” Denki says. “That okay, baby?”
Katsuki sobs and clutches onto the bench.
“Green,” he says.