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It’s not like Sho is some tiny little thing—but he’s still pretty dainty and fuck, even his lips bruise when Sero kisses him hard enough. So, needless to say, Hanta is terrified that he’ll hurt Shoto by getting too carried away, so they always end up just trading off blowjobs.
Meanwhile, Todo is losing his mind wondering what sort of god complex Sero has about his giant fucking dick.
He preps himself well! Gets up to FOUR fingers, and Hanta keeps treating him like he’s made of glass! It’s infuriating! They’ve been seeing each other for MONTHS and haven’t even done it properly.
So, he sets out to be the brattiest brat to ever grace Sero’s presence.
At first, Sero doesn’t clock the petty act.
He’s a little confused when Sho brings himself soba for lunch, even though he normally brings enough for them to share. He’s a little more confused when Sho stops responding to pet names, only answering to his hero name.
Sero finally realizes something is up when he clocks out for the night and Shoto isn’t waiting for him out front, like he normally is. When he gets home to their shared apartment, he confronts him. “Dude? Are you like, mad at me or something?”
And if Sero weren’t so confused, he might be endeared—because Sho’s nose crinkles up and he pouts, “Of course I’m mad at you!”
Wide-eyed and thoroughly confused, he replies, “I...I don’t know what I did, but...I’m sorry?”
“You won’t fuck me, Sero!” Todoroki yelps, as though he was upset his roommate wasn’t doing the dishes or something.
It came out so plainly that Sero has to blink a few times to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood. “This...this is about sex?”
“This is about a LACK of sex!” Sho folds his arms across his chest. “Why won’t you fuck me? Is it—is it me?”
“NO,” Sero chokes with how fast the word comes out, “No, no! It’s not you! It’s—it’s me,”
It’s definitely him, the part of him that’s now steadily swelling.
“I don’t understand.” Sho frowns. “Do you not...want to?”
Sero almost chokes again, “No! I mean, yes, I want to! I just—I’m kinda—well, i’m kinda scared i’ll hurt you.”
Shoto goes pink, embarrassed. There wasn't really a way to say ‘please do’ and not sound crazy.
Fortunately, Sero doesn’t make him say it.
He just starts closing the distance between them, an amused smile on his lips, “Hey—if you want me bad enough to throw a fit, we can do this.”
“Yeah?” Sho sighs, feeling Sero’s warmth encroaching.
“Yeah—real slow at first, though.”
Sero takes a few steps closer, and their lips come together in a soft kiss.
At first, it isn’t enough for Shoto—he’s waited forever for this, and Sero’s not moving fast enough—but then strong arms slip around his waist and yank him up, and his legs hitch around Sero’s waist.
After a few long strides, they’re at the foot of Sero’s bed, where he deposits Sho, gently. In a flash, his shirt is over his head, and he’s crawling over Shoto with a grin that makes Sho shiver.
“I didn’t know you had it in you to be so bratty, babe.” Sero says smoothly, and rucks Sho’s shirt up to his neck.
A lean hand splays on his abdomen, then swipes up over his pec, his thumb brushing Sho’s nipple. “Hanta—”
“—I said real slow, didn’t I?”
Shoto nods, screwing his eyes shut. Patient—he could be patient; Sero rubbing on his nips probably wasn’t helping, but he could be patient.
“I can’t believe you thought I didn’t want to do this with you.” Sero sighs, peppering kisses down Sho’s ribs, “I think about doing this daily.” With a swift yank of Shoto’s pants, his pink, flushed cock is exposed to the cool air, pulling a hiss from him. “Every day—every fucking day, I think about wrecking this pretty little body of yours, Sho.”
Shoto cant help himself. His legs tug open, and he quietly gasps, “Please?”
“Fuck,” Sero hums, with a sort of reverence that makes Shoto sling his arm over his eyes to hide.“No, no,” Sero growls, slinking close and yanking Sho’s arms away from his face. He drops his forehead to Sho’s and huffs, “No hiding, and you’re gonna be honest and tell me if i’m hurting you. Right?”
“Yes,” He nods.
“Promise?” Sero pecks at his lips.
“I promise—please,”
“Yeah, babe, I’ve got you.”
Shoto looks through heavy, slitted eyes as Sero sucks two fingers into his mouth—watches the string of saliva that forms when he pulls them out—and feels them settle between his legs, prodding at his hole.
They slide in with little resistance, and Sero lets out a sound that could only be called a growl. “Fuck—did you—“
Shoto’s hands clutch at Sero’s shoulders and he nods, “Yeah, before you came home. Left work early to.”
“Good boy,” Sero kisses him hard; it’s a mess of hot tongue and stifled whimpers, and he pulls away with a wet sound, “Good fucking boy, stretching out this pretty little hole for me. You’re so good to me, Sho.”
Shoto’s mantra of 'Be patient, be patient' is starting to lag in his head, overrun by the taste and feel and heft of his boyfriend. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth to avoid begging again—but Sero notices. “Look at you, fuck, you’re aching for it, aren’t you?”
Shoto nods, and reaches between them, pawing at Sero’s pants. He makes quick work of the belt, but he can’t get them down Sero’s thighs. Sho doesn’t notice, but a mean little smile makes its way across Sero’s face.
He puts his palm on Sho’s throat, “I said slow, didn't I?”
“Hanta,” Shoto licks his lips and swallows a whine, “I can’t, I can’t wait—i’ve been waiting so long, please?” His hand travels between his legs again, trying to force another one of Sero’s fingers in alongside the others. “I can take it, please!”
“You can take it?” Sero arches a brow, “Are you sure, baby?” With a shift of his hips and a few tugs of fabric, his cock springs free—and Shoto finds himself wondering if he really was always that big.
It’s long—easily ten or so inches, fat, and curves upwards.
He’s almost certain that he can’t take it, but he’s still nodding and reaching for it anyway.
“Ah-ah,” Sero pulls his fingers free to capture Sho’s wrists, “You keep forgetting. What did I say?”
“S-slow,” Shoto frowns, but still cants his hips down to brush Sero’s cock.
“That’s right. Slow.” He hums, and they both watch him lift his dick up, and drop it on Sho’s lower belly. It’s so long, it makes Shoto’s cock look like some sort of toy.
Sho always knew there was a sizable difference there—but actually seeing it so starkly sends a spark of something hot down his spine. His impatience shows through and he hikes his leg up even higher. “Fucking please, Ser, s’so big, I want it,” He pants, “Please,”
“Yeah? Fuck yeah, Sho, I’ll give you what you want,” He angles himself down, and lines up—and Shoto’s breath hitches because finally, finally he’d get to feel all of Hanta—but then the blunt head tugs his rim a little too wide, a little too quickly, and he flinches.
Sero immediately pulls away with a shaky breath, and Shoto gasps, “No! No, I can take it, I can take it babe, I promise,”
“S’still too tight,” Sero mumbles, and Sho can tell from the pinch in his brow and the curse that slips out—he’s having a hard time holding back.
“No, no no no,” Shoto whines, and he feels the tears spring up in his eyes, that antsy feeling of being so close to feeling so good and yet being denied it. “Hanta I swear to fucking—“
Sero grasps Sho’s jaw roughly, “Shoto, quit fucking moving. I’m trying not to hurt you.”
“But—but,”
“But fucking nothing—stay still.” Sero grits out, and Shoto moans at the rumble of authority. Sho closes his eyes, but he can feel the wet slide of Sero’s fat cock against him, and the sheer tease of it all makes him whimper.
Sero sounds like he’s recouping—trying his best to get himself under control—with shaky inhales and deep rumbling exhales. But Sho knows what’ll happen if he lets Sero catch himself—more prep, more fingers, more teasing.
So, before Sero could stop him, he shoves his hand between them.
In a second, he’s got a grip on Sero’s cock, and within another, he’s got the tip lined up.
With a harsh jut of his hips, and a wobbly cry, he’s shoved the first third of Sero’s cock inside himself.
Sero yelps—but Sho doesn’t even notice. He feels so good, so /full/ that the feeling sends his eyes rolling back with a flutter of long lashes.
He barely gets to sit in that bliss, because Sero’s raw, gruff voice startles him, “You just don’t fuckin’ listen, do you?”
He opens his mouth to reply, but Sero pulls out in one quick shift of his hips, and uses big rough hands to manhandle him face-down into the sheets.
“You’re being impatient and a bit of a bitch, Sho.” He hums, a tinge of fondness there. “I can’t have that.”
Shoto doesn’t respond—he just juts his hips back, moaning at the feeling of Sero’s cock sliding wetly between his cheeks.
“Fuuuck, it’s like you want me to fucking wreck you.” And when Shoto moans filthily again, Sero leans right over his ear, “Really? Well, too fucking bad.”
Shoto gasps at the cold liquid suddenly dribbling over his upper thighs—lube, he realizes.
He almost yells Thank fuck! at the top of his lungs, because finally he’d be slick and open enough for Sero to take him—but then he realizes, the lube is only pooling on his thighs.
“You don’t want to listen? Fine, then you don’t get what you want.”
“Ser—“
“No.” Sero huffs, his palm snapping down on Sho’s ass—not hard enough to bruise, but definitely hard enough to send an audible crack through the air, and turn the soft flesh pink. “You want it so bad you can barely fucking think.”
Sero’s fingers spread the slick stuff around, sliding over the smooth flesh at the backs of Shoto’s thighs—testing the slip there—and immediately after, his dick follows.
That fat cock is sliding between the apex of Sho’s thighs, brushing against his taint, his balls, and the base of his cock in slow sloppy thrusts—and it feels so good that Sho’s eyes cross. It may not be in him—but at this point, Sho could cum with a strong breeze.
“Who knew you’d be such a good little cockslut,” Sero noses the soft spot below Sho’s ear, “I bet I could make you come like this—you don’t even need me to be inside you. You could cum from just my cock rubbing up against you. Don’t you think?”
His hips pick up speed, and it makes it hard for Shoto to form thoughts, much less actual words—but Sero wants an answer. His fingers knot in Sho’s hair, yanking his head back so he could look in those fucked-out, mismatched eyes.
“Mmm’yes, yes, daddy,” Shoto drawls, love-drunk and rapidly approaching is orgasm, “Make me cum, make me cum, please,” Ser’s hand slips from Sho’s hair around to his throat, holding him firmly while he doubles his efforts.
Then it happens.
With all the lube slicking up his thighs, and the lube he’d used to prep himself earlier, and the fact that Sero had begun pistoning his hips like that—it slips.
At first it’s just the tip, catching on Shoto’s rim before Sero uses his thumb to guide it back between his legs.
But Sero can’t ignore the high-pitched coo Sho lets out at the feeling—at that blissful stretch. It sounded like Shoto had been brought right up the edge of an orgasm.
So, he does it again.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Sho pants, “Please. Do it—do it, I can be good, I swear,”
“I bet you would, you’d suck me in so nicely,” Sero sits back on his heels, grasps either of Sho’s cheeks in his hands, and grips them hard enough to get a good look at his cock settled right between them. “Fuck, Sho, you gonna take this cock like a good boy?”
“Yes—I promise, Han,” He sobs into the sheets, feeling sticky and damp and oh-so-fucking-close. He reaches down and spreads himself wide for Hanta. “I’ll be good! I’ll be still,”
”You bet your ass, you will.”
Short, staggered breaths escape Shoto as Sero slowly—slooooowly—sinks in. Even with the copious lube application, the stretch is there—but it isn’t unwelcome. It makes Sero’s name tumble out of Shotos lips in shaky, desperate cries.
Before Shoto can even process the fact that all of Hanta’s monstrous cock was inside him, a moan’s ripped out of him when Sero sets a quicker, rougher pace.
“You want to be a brat?” Sero’s voice is darker than Shoto ever thinks he’s heard it. “Fuuuuuck, yeah, you wanna be my bratty little boy? Then you’re gonna take everything I give you.”
Shoto’s nodding against the sheets, barely breathing until he feels Sero’s hand clamp down on the back of his neck. There’s barely any space between them, and Shoto can feel his lips skimming over the shell of his ear—then his teeth nipping at his earlobe.
It’s all too much, overwhelming his senses—the feel of Hanta’s weight pinning him down, the squeak of the bed springs, the slip of lube between his legs, and their heavy breaths mingling in the air. His eyes keep fluttering shut—and can almost taste the thick scent of Hanta’s cologne mixing deliciously with the smell of sex.
It all hits him at once—he feels that familiar heat begin swirling in his gut; it turns and turns, and goes from something he recognizes, to something all too intense and desperate—and before he can stop himself, his mouth falls open around desperate curses.
“Oh god—oh fuck! Hng—fuck, Hanta—I’m gonna cum, M’gonna cum!”
“Yeah you are,” Sero says, as though Shoto weren’t about to shatter into a billion pieces. “You’re gonna make a big mess in my sheets, pretty boy.”
“Ha—Hant—AH!” His voice breaks off into garbled half-choke, half-moan. He feels his cock spasm against his belly—spurt after spurt of cum soaking into the duvet.
Normally Shoto’s orgasms were a quick, harsh pang of pleasure, a snap of intense release—but Sero’s somehow dragging it out, forcing wave after wave of euphoria to come crashing over him, leaving him boneless, wordless, and completely at Sero’s mercy.
And Sero fucks him right through it—through broken gasps and trembling thighs—with his hand still curled at the back of Shotos neck, forcing him to keep still.
“Oh my god, oh my god,” Shoto cries, tears and drool wetting the sheets against his cheek, “Don't stop—cum in me, please,”
He’s so lost in the sensation, he barely makes out Sero’s grunts, “Yeah, baby? Need me to paint those pretty pink insides? Fucking bet on it, babe—FUCK—”
Shoto feels the hot rush of liquid that fills him, and how it begins trickling out between his legs with each shallow thrust. Sero’s strokes slow down almost completely—though Shoto can still hear the sticky, slippery sound—and his hand eases off of Sho’s neck.
Sero gently brushes the damp hairs there out of his way, and places a long, soft kiss to his overheated skin.
Shoto knows he’s bruised, that there’ll definitely a Hanta-hand-shaped mark there for a day or two—but he’s too blissed out of his mind to really care.
When Sero rolls off of him, landing beside him with a labored sigh, Shoto immediately misses the weight. He peeks over his shoulder sheepishly—when the adrenaline begins to wear off, he realizes he’d been kinda pushy.
This isn’t exactly how he wanted their first time to go. Sero probably wanted slow and sweet—and oh god, he’d just taken that away from him, hadn’t he? The thoughts race through his mind one after the other, and soon, he’s opening his mouth to say he’s sorry for being so needy.
Sero, however, is already looking at him with a sly look on his face. “Don’t even think about it, babe.”
“About what?”
“About apologizing.”
Warmth pools in Shotos cheeks, and he immediately ducks his head down with a snort. “I was kind of a bitch, huh?”
“Just a little.” Sero smiles wider, and reaches over to yank Todoroki halfway into his chest, as if he were a pillow and not an entire man, “I kinda like it, though.”
“Really? I couldn’t tell.” Shoto scrunches up his nose.
“Oh, keep that up.” He warns with a little eye roll.
“I think I will—“
Sero’s hands slip over his skin quickly—one knotting in his hair, the other grabbing at his ass—which pulls a surprised gasp out of Sho.
“You keep teasin’ me like that, and you’ll make getting your legs fucked out from under you a habit, babe.”
Sho blinks up at him with big, innocent eyes. “Is that meant to deter me,” He drags a slender finger down the side of Sero’s face. “...Daddy?”
“Mhm—say that again.”
“What? Daddy?”
“Fuck, you’ve really got no idea what you do to me, huh?”
Between them, Sero’s cock gives a valiant little twitch, and Shoto’s eyes widen with just a twinge of fear—because absently, he realizes that he still cannot feel his legs yet.
“I have some clue.” He mumbles, snuggling closer.
“Let me get you cleaned up—”
“—No,” He grumbles. His hands snake around Sero. “Not yet.”
Sero laughs, and Sho can’t help but wiggle even closer, chasing the rumble in his chest. “We’re gonna be all sticky, baby.”
“Be sticky with me.”
“Hm, okay.” Sero wraps his arms around him, “We can be sticky together.”
And they really do drift asleep like that—plastered together and sticky. Sero does eventually manage to slip out from under Shoto, but barely long enough to get them damp towels. Then, he’s right back where he wants to be: beneath Shoto in a tangle of sleepy limbs.