“I didn't expect you to know photography, Riksa,” Taka says, with a hand over his chest and head tilted back, eyes never once leaving the camera.
“What can I say? I'm a jack of all trades,” the mentioned man grins as he clicks the shutter, bent over slightly to get a good angle of Taka leaning against the kitchen counter, legs crossed in faux modesty, when Riksa knows Taka secretly enjoys having the attention. It's written in his hooded gaze, and the playful tug at the corners of his lips.
“Hey, Kaminari. Am I the only one seeing this?” Kaminari, leaning most of his body weight on Sero, tears his gaze away from his comic book to see exactly what the other’s talking about. He doesn’t notice it at first, especially with how crowded the common room is. Uraraka and Iida trying (and failing) to have a quiet study session in front of them, Jirou with headphones on, writing and scratching out words on her notebook, Todoroki and Bakugou chatting amicably like the good friends that they areㅡ
Wait. Hold on, rewind on that last part.
Kaminari sits up straight and rubs his eyes furiously to make sure he’s not seeing things, that Todoroki and Bakugou are, in fact, having a normal conversation at the dining table. Bakugou’s still scowling, but that’s just his default expression. He doesn’t seem angry, the spiky blond even looks relaxed, leaning back on his chair with arms locked behind his head, pools of red fully focused on Todoroki as he drones on in a hushed voice, not even audible with all the noise around them. Bakugou scoffs and rolls his eyes, but he’s got aㅡDare he say itㅡfond grin on his face as he says something back and Kaminari swears it’s a more terrifying sight than Bakugou glaring at him with full murderous intent.
His comic falls out of his hands from the sheer disbelief that Kaminari is currently experiencing, and the boy gasps dramatically, eyes as wide as saucers.
“Bro, did you meanㅡ?” Kaminari starts, Sero manages a choked out ‘yeah’ as the two continue to ogle at their friends as if they’d suddenly grown two heads, which would’ve been less surprising and more hilarious than...Whatever this is.
Comes the whispered praise from Riksa as he snaps another photo of his boyfriend, who only lets out a soft groan in response.
Taka's sprawled out on the bed, clothes already shed the moment their backs hit the mattress and his legs are wide open. Purple and red marks litter every inch of his lean body, a stark difference compared to the fairness of his skin. His cock is fully erect between his legs, already wet with precum with a gleaming ring at the base of his engorged length, looking like he's about ready to burst any moment. The cum that still drips from his raw, abused entrance only adds to the pornographic sight. His thighs are twitching, chest rising and falling in an irregular rhythm.
Brad frowns at his watch, gazing intensely at the minute hand that shows it's already fifteen minutes past the agreed meeting time.
“You're late,” Brad scolds through his earpiece, letting his arm fall back to his side in favor of sweeping his gaze around the densely packed ballroom.
“Had a really bad hangover. Took me a while to sober up and get ready.” The static voice replies in its usual, drowsy tone. Brad fights back the oncoming migraine that threatens to spawn because of Keith's laidback attitude, the man pinching his nose as he lets out an aggravated sigh.
“I thought I warned you multiple times about drinking during the job. Honestly, how can you have barely any sense of responsibility? This is an important mission that may be the key to uncovering Eclipseㅡ”
“Cut it out already, would ya'? I've heard this a thousand times before, there's no need to nag me every chance you get.”
“It is necessary if you keep refusing to listen.”
“You're not the boss of me. I can do whatever the hell I want as long as the job's done.”
“Technically, Keith, I am your boss.” He can hear Keith groan on the other side.
A full-body shiver wrecks his figure as the leather of the belt runs through bruised skin, and Brad struggles to contain a whimper when it stops at his ass, right above the angry red lines marking the globes from the previous abuse.
He asked for this. He was the one that willingly surrendered himself to Keith for tonight, specifically told him to do whatever it takes to make Brad forget.
Despite every little complaint he has about Keith, Brad would never trade his presence for anything in the world. It's always nice to have him around, a sharp contrast to whatever Brad is, the force that tugs him away from his constant strive for perfection, a reminder that makes him feel more human.
Riksa cackles to himself as he plops down on the couch, grinning from ear to ear at another successful sneaky attempt in borrowing Taka's phone.
For all the times this had happened before, he's actually surprised that Taka never changes his password, no matter the times he ends up with a new wallpaper of his own nostrils, or a completely zoomed-in picture of his eye.
Riksa thinks the CEO is secretly enjoying his little pranks.