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Bite Your Tongue

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Shōta’s probably had a little too much to drink.

He’s not in the habit of getting drunk, or even buzzed, really, but it’s the unofficial end of the year staff party, and drinks keep getting passed his way. They’d tried to ban alcohol at this event a couple of years back, citing something about professionalism and school guidelines, but the ban had lasted less than an hour before Nemuri had spiked the punch.

(Not that anyone had minded, really. If Shōta’s learned anything about heroes, it’s that even the most staid ones can throw wilder parties than most civilians, and the UA staff might be made of teachers, but they’re all heroes at heart.)

Despite that, normally Shōta would have started refusing drinks by now, but with Hizashi and Nemuri’s boisterous laughter ringing through his ears, he’s feeling remarkably relaxed. Honestly, he probably deserves to get drunk, after everything he’s had to put up with this school year.

One more drink probably won’t hurt.

“Shōta, I – ” Shōta startles a little as he feels a hand come down on his shoulder, and he glances over to find Hizashi next to him. “I need to talk to you.”

“Alright,” Shōta replies, a little warily. Hizashi’s cheeks are a bit flushed in a way that suggests that Shōta’s not the only one who’s been drinking more than usual tonight. “What is it?”

“Not here,” Hizashi says, his hand moving from Shōta’s shoulder to wrap around his upper arm, tugging him in the direction of the hallway. “We should – in private.”

Shōta’s not entirely sure he likes where this is going.

Then again, it might be nothing. Once Hizashi had drunk dialed him to tell him that he’d forgotten to water Shōta’s scraggly aloe plant, which was why it had died while Shōta was on vacation.

As they get out into the hallway, away from the main party taking place in the staff room, Shōta expects Hizashi to start talking, but instead Hizashi just leads him further down the hallway. Shōta’s about to ask where they’re going, when Hizashi finally pauses to tug open the door to a supply closet and drags both of them inside.

“Hizashi, what – ” Shōta starts.

“You almost died way too many times this year,” Hizashi interrupts, making Shōta tense up a little. It looks like he’s in for a more serious conversation than just drunken rambling about houseplants.

Shōta’s quiet for a moment, but then he says, “Yeah.”

“I’ve been – such a wuss,” Hizashi continues, and he suddenly seems a lot closer than he was a moment ago, although it’s not like there was much space in the supply closet to begin with. “About you.”

“What do you mean?” Shōta asks, the corners of his lips tugging downwards into a slight frown.

“I mean that you could have died this year, before I had a chance to – ” Hizashi answers. “Before I could – ”

Shōta watches Hizashi struggle to find the right words, and he’s about to tell Hizashi to just get to the point already, but before he can, Hizashi mutters, “Fuck,” and then shoves Shōta up against the closet door.

For a moment, Shōta thinks he’s being attacked, but before his brain can fully process the thought, he feels Hizashi press their mouths together. His eyes widen a little and he freezes, half wondering if this is some sort of strange dream. Hizashi certainly feels real, though, his body warm and solid, and his mouth wet and insistent as he presses up against Shōta, frantic in a way that Shōta’s never seen him before.

Hizashi kisses like he’s starving for it. It’s a little overwhelming, and Shōta’s torn between wanting to demand an explanation from Hizashi and wanting to just ignore the rational part of his mind and kiss back while he still has the chance.

Before he can fully make up his mind, though, Hizashi pulls away for a moment and gasps, “Fuck, I love you,” before leaning back in and capturing Shōta’s mouth in another kiss.

In the end, Shōta’s irrational side wins out.

Maybe it’s because of the alcohol, or maybe it’s because Shōta’s never been kissed like this before, deep and frantic and like Hizashi’s afraid that he’ll disappear if they break contact for more than a second. To be completely honest, despite how many increasingly dangerous villain attacks he’s had to deal with this past year, Shōta hasn’t really thought much about his own mortality. Clearly it’s been on Hizashi’s mind, though, and Shōta feels a little bad about having not noticed.

Then again, judging by the way Hizashi’s tongue is practically half down his throat by now, there’s a lot of things about Hizashi that he’s been ignorant to.

In the end, Shōta just lets his eyes slide shut and lets Hizashi kiss him, lets Hizashi pour all of his frustration and desperation into these kisses. They’re sloppier than the kisses Shōta’s imagined sharing with Hizashi, wet and messy, but Hizashi’s mouth is warm and there’s a certain sweetness under the desperation which makes Shōta think that if they weren’t kissing right now, Hizashi would just be holding him in a bone-crushing hug instead.

Not that this is anything as innocent as a hug. Shōta lets out a small, involuntary gasp as Hizashi nips at his mouth, teeth scraping lightly against Shōta’s kiss-swollen lips. It feels so good that Shōta can’t help but press a little closer, wrapping an arm around Hizashi’s waist so that there’s no space between them anymore, chests flush and hips –

Shōta freezes, his eyes snapping open.

There’s a rather distinctive bulge in Hizashi’s pants that was definitely not there before they’d started kissing. It’s not that Shōta finds it strange that Hizashi would get… a little excited from making out like this, but somehow feeling Hizashi’s half-hard cock straining against the stiff material of his pants still catches Shōta off guard.

Because, to be entirely honest, Shōta’s never done this with someone before.

Had sex, that is. In fact, he’s never even really made out with someone, and has only ever kissed another person with tongue once or twice.

It’s not something he’s ever really cared about. With hero work, teaching, and trying to get enough rest in between, getting laid has never been a priority of his. He can get off by himself just fine, and while he’d be lying if he said he’d never thought about having sex with an actual partner before, it’s never seemed worth the effort.

Hizashi doesn’t seem to notice Shōta’s hesitation, though, instead continuing to kiss him. In fact, a moment later Shōta lets out a surprised noise against Hizashi’s mouth, as he feels one of Hizashi’s hands move down to grip his ass.

For a moment, Shōta considers telling Hizashi to stop, or at least slow down, because a supply closet does not exactly seem like the best place to lose his virginity in. But then Hizashi moves his hand a little farther downward, coming to rest right where the curve of Shōta’s ass meets the top of his thigh and squeezes, and Shōta decides that if he’s gone this long not caring about his virginity, than it’s a little too late to start worrying about it now.

Hizashi finally tears his mouth away from Shōta’s, but he barely gives Shōta enough time to catch his breath before he presses his lips against Shōta’s neck, sucking at the sensitive skin there. Shōta lets out a little moan at the feeling of Hizashi’s hot mouth against him and he fists his hands tighter in the thin fabric of Hizashi’s shirt.

Briefly, Shōta wonders if he should be doing something instead of just making Hizashi do all the work. He’s woefully out of his depth here, though, so instead he just tilts his head back a little more until the back of his head taps against the closet door, giving Hizashi better access to his neck.

“Shit,” he hisses as Hizashi bites down on a spot just under his jaw, shivering under Hizashi’s touch.

“Sorry, was that – ” Hizashi starts, but Shōta shakes his head.

“Keep going,” he pants, bringing a hand up to tangle his fingers his Hizashi’s hair.

“Can I…?” Hizashi asks, and Shōta sucks in a sharp breath as he feels Hizashi press his palm against the bulge forming in Shōta’s own pants.

For a moment, Shōta hesitates, wondering if he’s actually going to do this – have sex with Hizashi in a supply closet. In the end, the alcohol in his system and the delicious feeling of Hizashi pressed up against him gets the better of him, and he replies with a jerky nod.

“Do you know,” Hizashi starts, his breathing heavy as he fumbles to undo Shōta’s pants, “how fucking long I’ve wanted to do this to you?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” Shōta asks, his voice remarkably steady as he tries to ignore how fast his heart is beating.

“You’re such a smartass,” Hizashi snorts. Before Shōta can think of a proper retort, though, Hizashi slips a hand into his underwear and Shōta has to bite his lip to hold back a moan as Hizashi strokes him to full hardness.

Somehow, Shōta hadn’t expected this to feel too different from just touching himself. Hizashi’s grip is tighter than Shōta’s own usually is, though, and Hizashi’s pace is slower as he strokes Shōta languidly with his long, slender fingers.

However, after only a couple of strokes, Hizashi lets go of Shōta. For a moment, Shōta just blinks at him, a little dazed, but before he can open his mouth to demand to know why Hizashi’s stopped, he sees Hizashi bring his hand up to his mouth, wetting his palm with his tongue.

“Sorry I’m not better prepared,” Hizashi laughs as he takes Shōta back into his hand, stroking Shōta a little more smoothly now with the added wetness. “I just – wasn’t exactly expecting – ”

“Yeah,” Shōta grunts, digging his fingertips into Hizashi’s back as Hizashi jerks him off.

“Next time, though,” Hizashi pants, nuzzling Shōta’s neck, his breath hot against Shōta’s skin. “God, I bet you’d feel so good, hot and tight and – I mean, if you want that – ”

“Yeah,” Shōta says again, gripping Hizashi’s back even tighter as he feels heat start to pool low in his abdomen. “Yeah, I want – ”

Shōta bites his lower lip as Hizashi starts stroking him a little faster. He’s embarrassingly close already, and his heartrate increases as he wonders if Hizashi will think anything of him coming so quickly.

After a split second of indecision, Shōta untangles a hand from Hizashi’s shirt, reaching down to tug at Hizashi’s belt. It takes him a few long moments to undo it, and another moment to shove Hizashi’s pants and underwear down far enough to get at Hizashi’s cock, fully hard and dripping pre-come. For a moment, Shōta hesitates. After all, he has no idea what he’s doing, really, has no practical experience. Then again, it can’t be so different from jerking himself off, can it?

So Shōta wraps his fingers around Hizashi’s cock.

As soon as he does so, Hizashi lets out a soft moan and Shōta’s pretty sure it’s the most gorgeous sound he’s ever heard Hizashi make. He squeezes Hizashi a little tighter and Hizashi’s hips snap forward in response, fucking up into Shōta’s hand. The angle’s a little strange, but Shōta manages to find a decent position for his wrist and smears the pre-come dripping from the head of Hizashi’s cock down the entirety of his length, making it slick underneath Shōta’s fingers.

“Fuck, you feel good, baby,” Hizashi pants, leaning his forehead against Shōta’s, his breath ghosting over Shōta’s lips.

Shōta doesn’t really know what to say to that, so instead he leans in a little farther and presses his mouth to Hizashi’s. Hizashi’s lips are warm and soft, and for a moment Shōta hesitates, unsure how to continue this kiss that he’d initiated, but thankfully Hizashi takes over the lead again, coaxing Shōta’s mouth open and kissing him nice and deep.

All too soon, though, Hizashi’s pulling away again. As he breaks the kiss, Hizashi bats Shōta’s hand away from his cock, and for a moment Shōta thinks that he’s done something wrong, but a moment later Hizashi’s moving closer in order to line their cocks up, wrapping his hand around both of them. The contact makes Shōta jolt a little, makes his hips twitch forward in a way that makes him rub against Hizashi more, creating a delicious sort of friction.

“You like that, baby?” Hizashi asks, a smirk spreading across his lips.

“Stop calling me that,” Shōta manages around heavy breaths, trying to ignore the way his cheeks have flushed a little at Hizashi’s comment. “I have an actual name, you know.”

“Yeah? You want me to call your name, Shōta?” Hizashi replies, and the low, velvety tone of his voice makes a chill run up Shōta’s spine.

“You’re such – ” an ass, is what Shōta means to say, but then Hizashi rubs up against him just right and his words are lost in a mess of moans.

“You gonna come for me, Shōta?” Hizashi murmurs, and that’s all it takes to push Shōta over the edge, come dripping all over Hizashi’s fingers and cock.

For a moment, Shōta feels dazed, his whole body tingly with pleasure. It’s like coming down from an adrenaline high, and with Hizashi’s warm body pressed up against him and his breath still coming out in heavy pants, it almost feels like he’s never going to get his feet back on the ground again.

Eventually, though, he manages to reorient himself enough to capture Hizashi’s mouth in another kiss, their mouths moving together languidly as Hizashi strokes himself to completion. Thankfully it doesn’t take much longer before Hizashi’s coming with a muffled moan, making an even bigger mess in between them.

It takes both of them another few moments to catch their breath, their foreheads pressed together and the sounds of their heavy breathing reverberating through the room.

Finally, though, Hizashi says, “There’s a twenty-four hour café two blocks away.”

“There is,” Shōta replies, his eyes meeting Hizashi’s.

“If you let me buy you coffee and give me some time to sober up, I can walk you home,” Hizashi says, licking his lips, a slightly nervous gesture. “If that’s something you want…?”

“Tea,” Shōta announces, making Hizashi frown at him in confusion. “I don’t need any caffeine right now.”

Hizashi’s face splits into a grin, and then he pulls Shōta into another kiss.


Shōta thinks that he and Hizashi are probably dating.

Then again, he’s not exactly an expert on the subject. He and Hizashi had ended up spending a good two hours at the café afterwards, talking casually like always, as if Hizashi hadn’t just taken his virginity in a UA supply closet. In fact, Hizashi had even been enough of a gentleman to buy him tea and a slice of strawberry cake. It was… nice. Sweet.

Not that Hizashi actually knows that it was his first time. To be entirely honest, Shōta doesn’t exactly feel any different now that he’s had sex, doesn’t feel any more confident or mature than before. Then again, he did spend a good fifteen minutes the next morning staring at himself in his bathroom mirror, prodding at a couple of dark bruises blooming on his throat.

He’s never had a hickey before, either.

So, having sex hasn’t changed anything, and Hizashi hadn’t seemed to notice anything off about his… performance, either. Which means that maybe Hizashi doesn’t need to know.

(Then again, maybe Hizashi just hadn’t noticed anything because of the alcohol in his system.)

Still, what Hizashi doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Really, Hizashi would probably be unbearable if he found out. After all, Hizashi’s always been a bit of a romantic, loves Valentine’s Day and always remembers anniversaries.

If Shōta had told him that it was his first time last night, Hizashi probably would have backed off and insisted on waiting to wine and dine him, before finally having sex with him on a bed covered in rose petals or something. It would have been painfully sweet, and Hizashi would probably have treated him too carefully, like something to be handled delicately. Shōta’s not really interested in sweetness, though, and he’s certainly not interested in going slow.

So overall, not telling Hizashi is logical.

Hopefully Hizashi won’t notice anything anyway, and even if he does, it’s unlikely that his first conclusion will be that his best friend is a thirty year old virgin. It’s not that Shōta is embarrassed about it, really, but Hizashi just – doesn’t need to know.

It’ll be fine.

Or at least that was what Shōta had assumed before finding himself spread out on Hizashi’s living room floor, Hizashi’s tongue half down his throat.

He’d originally just come over to return a jacket that Hizashi had forgotten at his place a couple of weeks ago, but that simple errand had turned into staying over for tea, which had somehow devolved into making out next to the coffee table. Not that Shōta is complaining, really. Hizashi’s body is solid and warm against him and at least the carpet covering the living room floor is soft and remarkably comfortable under his back.

“Hizashi – ” Shōta starts, breaking the kiss and tensing a little as he feels Hizashi slip a hand up under his shirt, palm sliding over his stomach.

“Shit, sorry, is this too fast?” Hizashi asks, looking a little guilty as he abruptly draws his hand back. The patch of skin on Shōta’s abdomen that Hizashi was just touching feels remarkably cold without Hizashi’s warm palm against it.

Briefly, Shōta hesitates, wondering if he should ask Hizashi if they can move this to the bedroom instead, but in the end he just says, “You’re wearing too much clothing.”

“I could say the same thing about you,” Hizashi replies, a grin spreading across his face. “Seriously, though, I feel kind of bad about not taking you out to dinner and – ”

“Hizashi,” Shōta interrupts, reaching a hand down to tug at Hizashi’s belt buckle. “We’ve gotten dinner together once a week for the past ten years. You don’t have to wine and dine me.”

“I – ” Hizashi starts, blinking down at Shōta. “ – can’t really argue with that.”

“Good,” Shōta replies. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

Hizashi, for once, obeys.

Soon Shōta feels Hizashi slip a hand back up under his shirt, fingers gliding teasingly over Shōta’s skin. It feels – strange, but not in a bad way. Shōta’s not really in the habit of dragging things out when he jerks off, usually just lazily stroking himself until he spills across his stomach. Sometimes when he’s in the mood, he fingers himself a little or uses a toy, but even that’s too much effort most days.

Today, though, Hizashi seems to want to drag things out a little. He kisses Shōta slow and deep, in a way that makes Shōta feel awkward and fumbling in comparison, unsure if he’s being too aggressive, or using too much tongue. Hizashi doesn’t voice any complaints, though, instead just continuing to kiss Shōta as he rucks up Shōta’s shirt, exposing Shōta’s skin to the slightly chilly air of the apartment.

Finally Hizashi breaks the kiss, moving down a little to kiss Shōta’s neck. For a moment, Shōta thinks that Hizashi is going to start biting bruises onto his neck again, but instead Hizashi just presses feather-light kisses to his skin, nuzzling at Shōta’s neck gently. His mustache tickles a little and it makes Shōta twitch. Briefly, he wonders if his own stubble irritates Hizashi when they kiss, but before he can wonder about it too much, Hizashi distracts him by moving even farther downward to press his lips to Shōta’s chest.

A moment later, Shōta feels Hizashi’s teeth scrape over his skin and he shivers a little, bringing his hands up to tangle his fingers in Hizashi’s hair. Hizashi’s mouth on him feels amazing and briefly he wonders what it would feel like wrapped around his cock, hot and wet.

He doesn’t quite know how to ask for that, though.

All too soon, Hizashi drags his mouth away from Shōta’s chest, the light outline of a bruise already forming on Shōta’s left pec. One of Hizashi’s hands strays to Shōta’s pants, and he toys with the button for a moment, but doesn’t pop it open.

“Can I fuck you?” Hizashi finally asks, biting his lip and looking at Shōta with those pretty green eyes of his.

“What do you think?” Shōta snorts, half because he likes giving Hizashi a hard time, but half to hide his nervousness. “I’m not lying on your living room floor because I want to nap here.”

“Hey, I’m just making sure I’m not pressuring you into anything!” Hizashi sputters, his cheeks flushing a little pink.

“Hizashi,” Shōta says slowly. “Do you honestly think you could force me to do something I don’t want to do?”

“I – true,” Hizashi answers, ducking his head in a way that’s almost cute.

“Good. Now please tell me you have lube, because I didn’t bring any,” Shōta replies, trying to ignore how his heartrate has increased ever so slightly. He’s not sure if it’s from anticipation, nervousness, or both.

“Yeah, just let me – ” Hizashi starts, reaching over to where his jacket is hanging over the arm of the couch. He fumbles through the pockets for a moment, before coming up with a small packet of lube and a condom, and Shōta can’t help but stare at him for a moment.

“You keep condoms and lube in your pockets?” Shōta asks, unable to entirely keep the disbelief from his tone.

“It’s not like that!” Hizashi sputters, a dusting of pink spreading across his cheeks. “I just – sometimes Nemuri drags me out clubbing unexpectedly.”

A dark, ugly feeling coils in Shōta’s chest, but he does his best to tamp down on it. It’s not like he doesn’t know that Hizashi is experienced, or that Hizashi’s had sex with a lot of different people before. It shouldn’t make him jealous, really, because Hizashi isn’t having sex with someone else right now, Hizashi’s having sex with him.

Really, if anything he’s the one benefitting from the fact that Hizashi’s had other partners before.

“Whatever,” Shōta finally huffs, tugging at Hizashi’s belt buckle. “Come on, you’re still wearing too much clothing.”

“Hey, no, seriously, Shōta,” Hizashi says, reaching a hand up to cup Shōta’s cheek. “You’re the one that I want. You’re the one that I – that I’ve always wanted.”

For a moment, Shōta’s quiet, but then he mutters, “You’re such a sap.”

“Yeah, I probably am,” Hizashi laughs. “One of us has got to be a romantic though, and it’s clearly not going to be you.”

“You know me so well,” Shōta says dryly. He pauses for a moment and then says, “But I – want you, too.”

“I hope you’re referring to more than just my dick,” Hizashi teases, and Shōta gives him a flat look. “Alright, alright, I’ve got you. Now help me take off your pants.”

“How romantic,” Shōta drawls, but reaches down to undo the button on his pants.

“I’ll show you romantic,” Hizashi replies with a playful growl, shoving his pants and underwear down over his hips and then leaning in to capture Shōta’s mouth in another kiss.

“I thought you wanted me to take off my pants,” Shōta says around heavy breaths as Hizashi pulls away again.

“You were taking too long,” Hizashi retorts, finally reaching down to help Shōta shove his pants and underwear over his thighs.

“You’re so impatient,” Shōta snorts, trying to ignore how exposed he feels as he finally kicks his pants and underwear all the way off. He’s never been naked in front of someone like this before and while he’s never really cared much about his appearance, it’s still a little… uncomfortable.

“Impatient?” Hizashi huffs, dragging his own shirt off over his head. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to fuck you like this? God, if you added up how many hours I’ve spent fantasizing about your ass, I’ve probably wasted an entire year waiting by now.”

“Yeah?” Shōta asks, smirking at Hizashi and then turning over onto his hands and knees. “Is it as good as you imagined?”

“Let’s find out,” Hizashi replies, and Shōta startles a little as he feels Hizashi’s hands on his ass. He’s suddenly very glad that he’d showered rather thoroughly this morning.

Shōta has to bite back a little noise as he feels something cold drip onto his hole, and he tenses up automatically, going stiff under Hizashi’s hands, and not in a pleasant way.

“Sorry about that,” Hizashi says a little sheepishly, spreading the lube around Shōta’s hole and warming it up a little. Hizashi’s fingers rub teasingly against Shōta and it feels a little good, but Shōta still has to consciously remind himself to relax.

Eventually, Hizashi’s soothing touch manages to make Shōta calm down, but he can feel himself getting tense again when Hizashi finally dips a slick finger deeper inside him. The angle feels a little strange. Normally when Shōta fingers himself, he’s on his back, and the unfamiliar sensation of someone else’s fingers in him isn’t entirely comfortable.

“Shōta, are you okay?” Hizashi asks, his fingers going still inside of Shōta. “You feel kind of tense.”

“It’s just – been a while,” Shōta lies, trying ignore the vague sensation of embarrassment in his chest.

“You know we don’t have to – ” Hizashi starts, but Shōta cuts him off.

“I want to,” Shōta interrupts, clenching his hands into fists against the carpet. “I really want to.”

“Okay, okay,” Hizashi replies, leaning in to press a couple of light kisses against Shōta’s spine. “I need you to relax for me, though.”

Shōta replies with a little nod and tries to steady his breathing, focusing on the steady rise and fall of his chest. However, he’s distracted a moment later as Hizashi presses down on a spot inside him that drags a soft moan from his throat.

“Right there?” Hizashi asks, rubbing up against the spot again and making Shōta let out a ragged breath, a little overwhelmed by how good it feels.

Feeling Hizashi finger him is a lot different than fingering himself. He doesn’t know exactly how Hizashi is going to move, if he’s going to continue rubbing up against the spots where Shōta is the most sensitive, or if he’s going to back off teasingly. By the time Hizashi gets three fingers inside him, Shōta’s no longer propping himself up with his hands, but has dropped down to his elbows and forearms, trembling a little at how good this feels.

All too soon, though, he feels Hizashi remove his fingers. Shōta feels a momentary jolt of disappointment, but it turns into anticipation as he feels something else brush up against his hole.

He tightens his fists a little and tries not to think about how he really is about to get fucked for the first time.

“Fuck, you feel good,” Hizashi groans as he pushes inside, stretching Shōta wide. It feels a little uncomfortable again, right after Shōta had finally gotten used to the sensation of Hizashi’s fingers inside him, but it doesn’t feel bad, per se. He just feels – full. “How are you holding up, Shōta?”

“I’m fine,” Shōta replies through clenched teeth, letting his head dip down a little further so that his forehead brushes against the carpet.

“Shōta, seriously, if you – ” Hizashi starts.

“I just feel really full,” Shōta admits, suddenly glad that he’s not on his back, so that Hizashi can’t see the way his face flushes. “Good, but – full.”

“Okay,” Hizashi says softly, leaning in to nuzzle the back of Shōta’s neck. “Can I move now?”

“You better,” Shōta finally manages, and he feels Hizashi’s lips quirk up into a small smile against his skin, before Hizashi snaps his hips forward, fucking into Shōta sharply enough to drag a gasp out of Shōta’s throat.

The one thing about using a toy, Shōta thinks idly, is that his wrist always gets tired or the angle starts to feel awkward after a few minutes. Hizashi doesn’t seem like he has any intention of slowing down, though, and Shōta’s finding it harder and harder to keep quiet as Hizashi continues to slide into him smoothly, only ever taking a moment or two to adjust his position slightly.

It feels amazing and Shōta can already tell that he’s going to come embarrassingly quickly again today, with Hizashi fucking him so well.

“Good?” Hizashi asks, and Shōta’s a little comforted by how breathy Hizashi’s voice sounds. At least he’s not the only one enjoying this.

Shōta replies with a jerky little nod, unable to find any actual words to reply with.

“Good,” Hizashi says, his hot breath against the nape of Shōta’s neck making Shōta’s skin prickle a little. “You look – so fucking hot, do you know that? I wish I could see your face, though. I bet you look gorgeous.”

“Gorgeous?” Shōta snorts, but he has to bite his lip as Hizashi slides into him at the perfect angle again, making heat build low in his stomach.

“So fucking gorgeous,” Hizashi pants, thrusting into Shōta harder this time, hard enough to make Shōta’s knees slide against the carpet a little. “And your voice, shit.”

Personally, Shōta thinks that he sounds vaguely like a strangled cat, but, well, Hizashi’s the noise expert, he supposes. Hizashi’s voice certainly sounds good, though, rough and breathy and a little lower than usual.

Shōta’s distracted from his thoughts, though, as Hizashi pauses for a moment to nudge his thighs open a little wider, before fucking into him as deep as possible. Shōta can’t quite stifle the way he moans this time, and his cock feels so hard that he’s almost surprised he hasn’t come yet, without Hizashi even laying a finger directly on him.

After a couple more hard thrusts, though, Shōta decides he can take it anymore, and snakes one hand beneath him to wrap his fingers around his cock.

It only takes a couple of quick strokes before Shōta’s biting his lip and coming with a muffled sound, probably making a mess of Hizashi’s carpet in the process. He feels tingly with pleasure as he comes down from his orgasm, but also a little strung out and overwhelmed, and he’s almost wondering if he’s going to be able to keep himself conscious until Hizashi finishes too, but just as the thought crosses his mind, he feels Hizashi pull out.

Shōta blinks blearily down at the carpet for a moment, but then manages to crane his neck around to look back at Hizashi. Hizashi’s looking at him with dark eyes, his skin flushed and his lips slightly parted as he peels the condom off his cock and then starts stroking himself.

“You didn’t have to – ” Shōta starts, his voice embarrassingly breathy, but Hizashi cuts him off with a laugh.

“Maybe I just wanted to come all over your ass,” Hizashi replies, shooting Shōta a smirk.

“Mmm,” Shōta replies, the corners of his lips quirking up into a slight smile. “You get to clean it up, then.”

“Which one of us just came all over my carpet?” Hizashi asks, but there’s no real bite to his tone.

Shōta doesn’t dignify that with an answer.

A moment later, he feels Hizashi’s hands grip his hips tightly, angling his ass up a little, and then Hizashi’s hard cock is pressing against him again, although this time instead of thrusting into him, Hizashi starts rubbing off against him. Somehow this almost feels lewder than Hizashi actually fucking him.

It doesn’t take much longer for Hizashi to come, though, and soon Hizashi’s gasping, “Shōta,” as something warm and sticky coats Shōta’s lower back.

Shōta decides that getting fucked for the first time could definitely have gone worse.

“So,” Hizashi says, dragging Shōta out of his momentary daze. “Does it still count as wining and dining if we go for dinner after having sex?”

Instead of answering, Shōta twists around and pulls Hizashi into a kiss.


The thing is, Shōta should have known that he wouldn’t have been able to completely hide the fact that Hizashi’s the first person he’s ever slept with.

After all, there’s one other person who knows about his… situation.

“Shōta!” Nemuri exclaims cheerily as she comes over to greet him in the UA staff room on Monday morning.

“Nemuri,” Shōta replies, his tone a little less enthusiastic.

“You know, you never answered my text from Saturday,” Nemuri complains, leaning against the back of Shōta’s desk chair. “A girl could think – ”

However, she cuts herself off mid-sentence.

Then, she slowly says, “Shōta, is that a hickey on the back of your neck?”

Unfortunately, Shōta’s not quite able to keep himself from tensing up slightly at her comment, and Nemuri’s always been annoyingly observant, particularly when he doesn’t want her to be. Trust Nemuri to notice a hickey on the back of his neck, despite his scarf and long hair.

At the adjacent desk, Hizashi looks over at the two of them.

“Oh my god, it is,” Nemuri exclaims, her face splitting into a grin. Shōta can already feel a headache coming on. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Nemuri – ” Shōta sighs.

“So does this mean you finally did it?” Nemuri asks, slinging an arm around Shōta’s shoulders. “Can I finally call you an 18+ hero? Not that there’s anything wrong with waiting to lose your virginity or not losing your virginity at all, but you know I have to tease you on principle – ”

“What?” Hizashi blurts out, and Shōta only barely resists the urge to sigh and bury his face in his hands.

Even though he knows it will probably only make things worse in the long run, Shōta stands up abruptly form his seat and says, “Homeroom’s about to start.”

He leaves without waiting for Nemuri or Hizashi to respond.

Of course, he knows that he’s only staving off an inevitable conversation with Hizashi. Really, running away like this is probably just making him look guilty or ashamed, but at least this means he won’t have to have this conversation in front of Nemuri. It wasn’t like he’d lied to Hizashi, he’d just – left out some details.

It was a logical ruse, he’d thought.

He manages to dodge Hizashi for the rest of the school day, but finally he lets himself get caught as he’s getting ready to head out for the day.

“Shōta – ” Hizashi exclaims, practically sprinting across the staff room, like he’s expecting Shōta to just disappear if he waits for a second too long. “I’m so sor – ”

“Don’t,” Shōta sighs, cutting Hizashi off. “Just – get dinner with me?”

“Dinner?” Hizashi asks, blinking at Shōta owlishly.

“So I can explain,” Shōta elaborates, not quite meeting Hizashi’s eyes.

For a moment, Hizashi’s quiet, but then he says, “Okay.”

Which is how Shōta finds himself sitting across a table from Hizashi as the two of them pick at their curry, trying to figure out what to say. Briefly, Shōta finds himself regretting that he hadn’t spent the day trying to come up with a decent explanation for Hizashi instead of just avoiding him. Maybe he should have even consulted Nemuri, as awkward as that would be.

Before he can decide how to start, though, Hizashi says, “So was it true?”

“What?” Shōta asks, frowning at Hizashi.

“What Nemuri said,” Hizashi sighs, setting down his spoon and giving up on his curry. “About you being… about your lack of experience.”

For a moment, Shōta hesitates, but then he says, “Yes.”

“Shit,” Hizashi mutters, burying his face in his hands. “I can’t believe I – ”

“If you’re having regrets – ” Shōta starts.

“If I’m having regrets?” Hizashi says, looking over at Shōta incredelously. “I took your virginity while dunk in a supply closet.”

“You make it sound like I wasn’t an active participant,” Shōta snorts, giving Hizashi a flat look. “And we weren’t drunk. Buzzed, maybe.”

“Shōta, I’m so sor – ” Hizashi starts, but Shōta cuts him off.

“Have you ever known me to do something that I truly didn’t want to do?” Shōta interrupts.

“Well no, but – ” Hizashi protests.

“Then stop blaming yourself for something I did,” Shōta snorts. “It was my decision to have sex with you, and it was my decision to not tell you that it was my first time. That’s not your fault.”

For a moment, Hizashi’s quiet, but then he says, “I should have noticed, though. I mean, I did notice, but I thought – ” He cuts himself off, taking a deep breath. “You kept tensing up, when I – when we had sex at my apartment. At first I thought it was because you hadn’t – with someone else with a dick before, but then I remembered you dated that police detective like, what? Three years ago, so – ”

“We didn’t get that far,” Shōta sighs. “Work kept getting in the way and we broke up before any of that could happen. That’s always how it’s been.”

“Except for with me, because I decided to fuck you in a supply closet instead of taking you out on a proper date,” Hizashi snorts, and Shōta hates the self-deprecating edge to his tone.

“Will you cut that out?” Shōta snaps, finally losing his temper. Hizashi blinks at him, clearly caught off guard. “How many times do I have to tell you that it was my decision to have sex with you? Both times.”

“I just – your first time should have been special,” Hizashi sighs, his expression dangerously close to a pout. “Or at least comfortable and sober.”

“Was your first time ‘special’?” Shōta asks, arching an eyebrow at Hizashi. “Because if I remember correctly, you told me you lost your virginity at a house party to a guy who was just a friend of a friend.”

“At least it was in a bed,” Hizashi counters, and Shōta sighs.

“Look, this is why I didn’t tell you,” Shōta replies, letting a little of his frustration seep into his voice. “I knew you would make a big deal out of it when it doesn’t actually mean anything.”

“So having sex with me doesn’t mean anything to you,” Hizashi says flatly.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Shōta sighs, rubbing his temples.

“I just – I guess I’m hurt that you didn’t think you could tell me about this,” Hizashi replies, and Shōta can’t help but feel a little guilty. “I promise I’m not going to judge you or anything.”

For a moment, Shōta’s quiet, but then he says, “I didn’t want you to stop.”

“What?” Hizashi asks, blinking at him.

“I said, I didn’t want you to stop,” Shōta repeats. “At the staff party, I knew that if I told you, you would have stopped and insisted on doing things ‘properly’ and I didn’t want that. I just wanted you to keep touching me.”

Hizashi stares at him, and Shōta can feel his cheeks start to heat under Hizashi’s surprised gaze.

Then, Hizashi starts laughing.

“Yeah, I guess you’re probably right,” Hizashi replies, once he’s finally managed to stop laughing long enough to talk. “You really wanted to have sex with me that bad, baby?”

“Call me that again and I’ll cut out your tongue,” Shōta says, shooting Hizashi a mild glare.

“But I haven’t even given you your first blowjob yet,” Hizashi complains, but there’s a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Is that – still on the table?” Shōta asks, a little awkwardly.

For a moment, Hizashi blinks at him, looking confused, but then he says, “You know, I’m not going to dump you just for lying about being a virgin. I’ve been in love with you way too long for that.”

“I didn’t technically lie,” Shōta snorts.

“Really? That’s the part of what I just said that you’re going to comment on?” Hizashi whines, looking mildly put out. “You know, I’ve said I love you twice now, but you haven’t – ”

“I do too,” Shōta interrupts, his voice soft. “I love you.”

“Oh, thank god,” Hizashi laughs, and while his tone is mostly flippant, there’s something underneath it that catches Shōta off guard. He hadn’t realized that this was something Hizashi had been waiting for him to say. “Now, no more secrets. Is that something we can agree on?”

“As long as you don’t cover your bed in rose petals to try to make up for the supply closet,” Shōta snorts.

“Will you at least agree to a bed? Because as nice as the living room floor is, my knees can’t take that every time,” Hizashi sighs, giving Shōta a put-upon look.

“I suppose I can agree to that,” Shōta replies, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Hizashi smiles back.


(“You know,” Hizashi says as he nuzzles against Shōta’s neck, pushing him down into the mattress and moving to straddle Shōta's waist. “You should have told me you were a virgin sooner. It’s kind of hot.”

“How is having no idea how to get someone off hot?” Shōta snorts, his breathing hitching a little as Hizashi bites down on his neck.

“It’s hot,” Hizashi murmurs, sliding a hand up under Shōta’s shirt, “because I’m the only one who’s ever gotten to touch you like this. I’m the only one who knows what you look like when you come, and I don’t plan on letting anyone else ever get the opportunity.”

“That sounds mildly unhealthy and possessive,” Shōta says dryly, and Hizashi lets out a little huff.

“I think the first thing we need to work on is your dirty talk,” Hizashi replies, pouting ever so slightly. He doesn’t take his hands off of Shōta, though, palms warm against Shōta's chest as his breath ghosts over Shōta's neck.

“Good luck,” Shōta snorts.

Hizashi decides to shut him up with a kiss.)