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Toshinori is down on his knees between Aizawa’s spread thighs, face flushed a deep scarlet, eyes focused on the prize before him. He’s mostly naked himself at the moment, shirt already discarded somewhere in the bedroom, though briefs are still clad around his slim thighs, concealing his achingly hard cock from view. Aizawa is in a much better state of address, completely nude as he sits on the edge of the bed, looking down at his partner with blown pupils, chest rising and falling quickly. It makes Toshinori’s stomach twist, finding it impossible not to stare at the muscle in front of him, scarred skin spread out before the blond for as long as the eye could see. Every time Aizawa shifts to prop himself up a bit more, his abs ripple, muscle contracting underneath pale skin with a type of beauty that Toshinori couldn’t even dream of describing.

Still—there’s a much bigger prize to be had besides looking at the other teacher’s toned body. Namely, Aizawa’s cock, hard and leaking right in front of the former pro’s face. A bead of precome is already at the tip of the head and Toshinori can’t stop himself from leaning forward despite his embarrassment, lapping it up with a small stroke of his tongue. Salty as usual, the taste not Toshinori’s favorite, but the way just barely touching the other man’s length has him twitching definitely makes it worth it.

“You’re already so excited,” he mumbles, turning his head to press a soft kiss to his partner’s inner thigh, large hand coming up to rest on the other side, “did I do this?”

“You know you did,” Aizawa’s voice is just a little strained, his composure barely betrayed by the twinge that echoes in his words, his own hand moving to cup the side of the blond’s face, “you just want to hear me praise you over and over like usual.”

Toshinori takes Aizawa’s hand in his then, turning it over to press a small kiss to his wrist, grinning, He can’t even be upset that he’s been caught fishing for compliments, too enraptured in the moment, “alright, well. Maybe. But you always have such good things to say about me, Shouta.”

That draws a small laugh from Aizawa, breathy in nature as their fingers slowly link together, thumb slowly pressing circles into his lover’s skin. “That’s because there’s not a single bad thing about you, Toshinori. You’re smile, your eyes, your hair… it’s all perfect. You’re perfect.” His voice drops then, suddenly becoming huskier as he continues his praise, “The way you look spread out on our bed some nights, legs open wide, the way you moan as we fuck, how responsive you are to every little touch, fuck, especially when my fingers are hilt deep in you and you start fucking shaking because it feels so good…”

There’s what Toshinori wanted to hear. He’s ashamed to admit that his cock twitches in the confines of his briefs with the praise, flush slowly moving down his neck to start enveloping his chest. It’s impossible to hide how his breath hitches, quickly leaning forward to press another kiss to the other man’s thigh, though this time it’s less of a small romantic gesture than one of want. He bites the soft skin there for a moment as an afterthought, enjoying how it makes Aizawa tense and groan, before quickly moving his mouth to his partner’s cock again, giving it another lick. This time however, instead of just touching the head, his tongue starts at the base and slides all the way up, looking up to lock eyes with Aizawa as he does so.

Aizawa’s expression is much more flushed than before, unable to look away from Toshinori as he continues to slowly worship his cock, repeating the motion from base to tip over and over. There's a hunger in his gaze that makes Toshinori feel ridiculously good, even powerful with the intensity behind it. It’s not long until the dark-haired man’s length is completely covered with the former pro’s saliva, Toshinori’s lips wet as he continues to tease, still not letting the other man feel the full heat of his mouth. That hunger on Aizawa's face is growing, his teasing having a clear effect on him, chest rising and falling quickly, a similar blush to Toshinori’s now coating his face and chest. It’s obvious he wants to ask the blond to just hurry up and wrap his lips around him, but the barest bit of pride is holding him back, Toshinori able to see his teeth worrying the inside of his cheek.

“Do you want more?” He murmurs, moving to mouth at the base, sliding his tongue slowly over a vein, tracing it over and over as he maintains eye contact with Aizawa. “Should I keep going?”

“What do you think?” The other man’s voice is slightly strangled, “fuck yes you should keep going, or else I think I might just grab your bangs and shove my dick down your throat myself, Toshinori.”

A shiver runs through the blond at the prospect, pulling his mouth away to lip his lips. The idea is very appealing, Aizawa using his mouth like that, pushing himself deep into Toshinori’s mouth until he’s choking on it, tears burning at the corners of his eyes… fuck, it’s enough to make him close his eyes and palm his covered dick, squeezing it softly. As much as he loves the idea though, he wants to worship Aizawa’s cock right now, to make him feel good by himself and without the younger man having to exert himself to gain the pleasure he sought. Aizawa can fuck his throat another night; even later, if they manage to go multiple rounds.

So slowly, carefully, he moves his mouth to the head again, but instead of just licking this time, he wraps his lips around it and takes it into his mouth. He can feel Aizawa shudder against him, encouraging him to move his mouth further down, taking as much as he can. It makes his throat ache, but he manages to go all the way down to the base, Aizawa throbbing in his mouth, looking back up at his lover.

Fuck, he can only imagine how much of a mess he must look like. Lips red and stretched around his girth, blush hot and steady across his face, saliva already dripping out of the corners of his mouth around Aizawa’s cock, rolling down his chin. It feels so good though, the weight inside of him making him feel even harder, if that was possible. And with how Aizawa was staring at him, mouth open and panting, he knows that he enjoys it too. He loved having the former number one on his knees like this, worshiping his cock, worshiping Aizawa, a sight that the rest of the world would never see. This was something reserved for him and him alone, and Aizawa relishes it more than anything else.

As if he can hear what Toshinori is thinking, Aizawa moves to let his fingers tangle in the blond’s hair, shuddering as the former pro swallows slightly around his length. “Fuck, Toshi, you look so good,” he hisses through teeth, “lips wrapped around me, looking so hot—I wish I could just freeze this moment in time, so I never lose this. Take a photo and just keep it in my pocket at all times, just so I can remember how slutty you looked. Only for me, no one else, no one else gets to see you like this—”

Toshinori just hums in response, pulling back up and sinking back down, enjoying the light pull of Aizawa’s hand on his hair. His hand slips inside his briefs then, wrapping around his own cock and slowly tugging it in time with the bobs of his head. His dick is soaking wet already, precome coating the head, and honestly, he’s half sure that he could’ve come just from sucking his partner off eventually. He doesn’t have the patience for that right now though, needing the friction of his calloused palm, focusing on the slow slide of Aizawa’s cock through his lips and the noises that drift upwards between the both of them.

Hot squelches, heavy breathing, low moans… the rest of the room is silent, the only sound coming from the two. It’s all encompassing, surrounding the two like a thick blanket, only enhancing the intimacy that’s vibrating between Toshinori and Aizawa. It buzzes softly in his ears, a feeling of love and want and need rising up in his chest, only pushing him to work harder at pleasing Aizawa. Throughout it all, he keeps jerking himself off below, his hand going at a pace that's only slightly slower than the one he's settled into above with Aizawa's cock in his mouth. Precome is already all over his fist, the sound his hand makes while moving up and down almost as dirty as the ones coming from his mouth. There's more drool dripping down his chin as well, forced out of his mouth by Aizawa's cock, and once more unbidden the image of what he must look like comes to mind, making him tremble.

Toshinori does eventually have to pull off for a moment to catch his breath, lips making a little pop noise as he releases Aizawa’s cock, a rush of spit dribbling down his chin. Aizawa takes this opportunity to reach forward and press his thumb into his mouth, parting his lips as he sinks it in, eyes locked on how the blond’s red lips wrap around the skin. He keeps moving it around Toshinori’s mouth as he regains his breath, before pulling it back out and tangling his fingers in his hair again, pulling him forward to press his face against his achingly hard cock. He slides it against his cheek for a moment or two, leaving a trail of precome and saliva against the former pro’s skin. He repeats this until he can see that Toshinori's finally regained his breath, before finally nudging the head at his lips again.

He doesn’t need to be asked twice, quickly opening his lips and letting Aizawa sink back into the tight heat of his mouth. This time when he bobs his head, Aizawa thrusts up to meet him halfway, making Toshinori gag slightly the first time before he relaxes his throat. Nevermind it seems about leaving the mouth-fucking for another night; the smaller man has his own plans about what he wants from Toshinori that night. Enough worship, his face seems to say, I want to see you used right now, more than anything. The hand that’s still wrapped around his dick starts moving faster, rubbing at the head before sliding back down over and over.

It's then that Aizawa suddenly pulls even harder on his hair, forcing his cock up into Toshinori’s mouth roughly, letting his hands slip down the soft strands to grab his bangs. He's practically using them as reins to keep Toshinori flush against his cock, his grip on them tight and unyielding, making sure that his partner can't escape the assault of his cock. His hips are jerking against his face, working his length in and out of the former pro’s mouth over and over, head tilting back as he moans. It’s a little difficult to breathe, Toshinori's chest aching, one lung screaming at him to pull off and take a deep gulp of air, scalp trying to say 'fucking stop he's going to rip your bangs off with how hard he's pulling them'— but the blond loves it, just jerking himself off harder as Aizawa uses him.

For a brief second, he just lets his eyes shut, letting the world around him fall away as his mind moves to focus on the sensation of blowing Aizawa and that alone. The way his throat aches, the pain in his chest, the wet feeling of drool rolling down his face, and the hot, hot sensation of his cock in his hand. Nothing else matters but making them both feel good, to fulfill both of their desires

“Fuck, fuck, yes, keep going Toshi, so fucking close—“

And then Toshinori can feel hot come enter his mouth, Aizawa’s hips stuttering to a stop against his face. They only twitch lightly as he empties himself, the blond doing his best to swallow it all down, most of it going directly down his throat and onto the back of his tongue. That doesn’t seem to be all Aizawa wants though, quickly pulling his dick out to let the last couple spurts hit the blond’s face and into his open mouth, thighs softly trembling on either side of Toshinori’s body.

Toshinori’s still working his own cock, but it doesn’t take long until he’s coming into his hand with a moan, most getting trapped by his briefs. His body is trembling, gut hot and heavy, and by the time he’s done Aizawa is leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips, seemingly not caring about his come that’s coating them. His hands come to wipe the tears that'd formed at the corners of the blond’s eyes, tears he hadn’t even noticed in the spur of the moment, quickly pulling at his wrists to get him on the bed.

God, his knees are aching, but it’s easy to forget that once the pair wraps around each other, content for now to ignore how sticky they are. Aizawa keeps pressing kisses across his face, probably making sure they hadn’t gone too far, but honestly, it'd been absolutely and undeniably perfect.

Slowly, he moves his clean hand to brush across Aizawa’s face, a lazy, happy smile across his face.

“I love you, Shouta.” He murmurs, kissing his lover’s forehead softly. "Thank you."

“Love you too, Toshi.”