Chapter Text
It started out as a simple teenage hookup.
Like this;
Mashirao had been eyeing up the class pretty boy for months and this only became a problem when he felt a similar gaze being returned, straying the lines of his body during particularly revealing moments of his lockerroom endeavors—it was difficult not to stare, considering the guy had the body of a greek god and even through his towel the blond knew his penis could be used as a tripod. Who didn’t have a crush on Todoroki Shouto? Todoroki thirst was the glue that bonded teenagers everywhere, his sex appeal transcended gender.
Mashirao had known he was gay for a while and decided no one else needed to know. His friends, his classmates, anyone really. Maybe it was some sort of complex built from years of obscurity and wanting his personality to run deeper than his sexuality—not wanting his sexuality to be the hallmark of a personality few people even cared to explore. Whatever the reason, no one needed to know, had always been his excuse.
Unless of course this hypothetical person was the object of several late night jerk sessions.
Then, maybe it would be okay.
The sexual tension was only thick for a total of three hours before Todoroki cornered Mashirao in the laundry room—Mashirao liked doing his laundry right after classes because he knew everyone else would be too wore out to think about their horrifically smelly clothes. His roommate, Shouji, was a testament to that so he’d thrown the enormous toddler’s garments in with his own.
He sat on the washer, feeling the whirr of the machine under him and getting drowsy from it. Classes were grueling and his body was sore, his tail especially as its mass drooped off the side of the washing machine. He probably could’ve fallen asleep there.
Todoroki, immediately up in his face from the moment he stepped foot in the laundry room, was very sobering.
“Um, hi?” Mashirao said, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. At that point, he wouldn’t let him delude himself into thinking that Todoroki was gay, let alone interested in the blond if he was. Up close, Todoroki was even more drop dead gorgeous. Two toned eyelashes fluttered, eyebrows similar in pigment furrowed and lips pursed in consideration, skin smooth as cream. “I shouldn’t be much longer, you know, with the washer.”
“You stare at me a lot.” Todoroki blurted. His brand of eye contact was overwhelmingly blazen and intense, almost uncomfortable in how performative it was, socially inept in its consistency. “A lot of people stare at me, I’m handsome, or something.”
Mashirao could feel himself flushing, deflected the accusation. “You’re just now noticing? Talk about oblivious.”
“I stared back today.” He replied; he leaned closer, caged Mashirao’s hips on the rocking washer with his hands and made Mashirao’s core quickly heat up in unprecedented arousal. This wasn’t a good idea. This was his classmate. This was Todoroki Shouto, a prohero’s kid and one of the top performing students in the school. This wasn’t a good idea, Mashirao’s subconscious repeated with urgency. “You’re gay, right?”
“Why do you ask?” Though, Mashirao had a feeling he knew, it was so fast, bold, difficult to swallow. Just wanted the guy to slow the fuck down for a second—Mashirao was no romantic but this was a laundry room and they’d never even talked before this. “I’m guessing it’s not for bullying purposes, since you’re close enough to count my zits.”
“Because I’m gay.” Everything Todoroki said was so incredibly blunt, without hesitation or dramatics. All the blond could do was blanch, bow back to put some distance between them, then realize his attempts were futile when Todoroki just followed the movement and narrowed his eyes- not contempt. Frustration? “I like… uh… when you bend over to stretch. I stared at you, liked what I saw.”
“Do you understand how incredibly forward this is, Todoroki?” Mashirao felt inclined to mention, even though he really felt like this situation was out of his control and only an act of god could stop Todoroki’s libido at this point. “You have never said a word to me before this. Just because we’re both gay doesn’t mean we have to have impassioned sex.”
“But, can we? Please?”
The blond shivered at the desperation—desperation for him. It was definitely a response groomed out of him from years of being the dull, ordinary third wheel of all his friend groups but he’d be damned if he didn’t get borderline high off of the attention all the same, it was an aphrodisiac like no other for someone as uninteresting as Mashirao. All common sense left him and he chewed his lip, winding his arms around the other students neck and leaning his forehead into Todoroki’s with clear intent and pink cheeks.
“Of course we can. I’ve been staring at the outline of your dick through your towel for like, two months.”
That was all it took before Todoroki transformed from a severely awkward teenager into a sex crazed lunatic, pulling his sweatpants down below an erection that was filling out at an alarming pace and slamming his mouth into Mashirao’s with such raw aggression the blond was surprised no one lost a tooth. Instead, they just slotted together seamlessly and Todoroki’s excitement proved to be infectious, Mashirao struggling to keep up with the pace of the other’s unskilled tongue as his legs closed around Todoroki’s waist, clutching at him.
God, Todoroki was as huge as he looked through that goddamn towel.
He couldn’t resist gripping Todoroki’s dick after all those annoying midday fantasies and uncomfortable half-chubs.
The feeling of the hot flesh in his hand, veins pulsing, was enough for Mashirao to immediately feel the effects in his pants. His hard on pressed against the seam of his school trousers and made him whine—Todoroki responded with catlike reflexes, fingers flicking the button undone and helping him wiggle out of the restrictive pair of hell pants until a rapidly aggravating pair of boxers were all that was left on his bottom half.
They were both breathing heavy and Mashirao was licking his lips in anticipation. Todoroki had paused in his relentless pursuit.
“I didn’t bring a condom. I didn’t think that far ahead.” Todoroki admitted guiltlessly, wrapping his hand around his manhood and stroking slow and sensual, as if bribing Mashirao with the erotic sight. Clever bastard. “Can I just fuck you raw?”
Mashirao sputtered, red down to his shoulders. “You want to fuck me raw in our dorm laundry room because you asked for a quickie and forgot a condom? Am I hearing you correctly?”
Todoroki pouted his wet, red lower lip and tightened his own grip on himself, coaxing a bead of precum out of the blushing tip of his cock as his hand slid down from the base, travelling his long, thick shaft, all the way to that tantalizing head. “Yes, please.”
“... Fuck it, sure.”
If his classmate were as diligent about his hero work as he was about fucking blonds, he would’ve graduated U.A. six minutes into their first class. Todoroki’s hands curled around the hem of his boring white boxer briefs and pulled them below Mashirao’s ass, tried pushing him back onto the lid of the washing machine and was stopped by a small, pained gasp as Mashirao’s tail was bent.
“Stupid thing.” Mashirao muttered, sitting back up with a far less aroused blush painting him. “Maybe I can bend over on the-”
“What did that Shinsou guy call you during the Sports Festival?” Todoroki pondered aloud, hands cupping Mashirao’s ass like he wasn’t completely off kilter with his words compared to his actions—still, the blond writhed under the attention. “A monkey?”
It had been a pretty sore spot when it happened. It wasn’t much better now.
“Quite possibly the worst time to bring this up, but yeah. A monkey.”
Todoroki’s expression never really changed but his eyes were definitely smirking while his mouth hardly even moved to form the words. “I’ll make you a dog instead, then.”
Any chance at resisting Todoroki’s advances were crushed when he found himself on his hands and knees on the floor—it was easily his favorite position, not only because logically it was the only comfortable one due to his tail, but because he just felt nice and small. He could bury his face in his arms and moan into them, push back against his partner and wriggle his hips like a cat, he just felt so hot bottoming in doggy style. He wasn’t ugly but he also wasn’t attractive, not in the face; small eyes even for a Japanese kid and flat features, nice lips but big ears, just average. His body, however, was something he was confident in, his backside most of all. Mashirao liked showing off, gave himself credit where credit was due.
Thankfully, Todoroki seemed to enjoy the view, his cock resting on the cleft of Mashirao’s ass and making the teen under him tremble with anticipation.
“Didn’t bring lube either.” Todoroki said through a mouthful of his own fingers—the way he sucked and licked on them, just from what Mashirao could see over his shoulder, should’ve been illegal. He really was pretty, pink tongue drawing wetly against his long, thin fingers with expertly cared for nails, not too girly and not too manly. Perfect pretty boy hands under siege by that perfect, sakura silk tongue. “It’s gonna burn a little.”
“I’m into that.” Mashirao responded, way too quickly, and just as quickly added on, “Well, I don’t like being whipped or cut into, but, ah… a little less lube than is necessary adds a nice flair, I think.”
“Lots of words to say you like it rough, huh.”
The thought of Todoroki’s hand clutching at his ass cheek to spread it could have sustained Mashirao’s fantasies for months—the experience was nothing less than holy. His soaked finger pressed at Mashirao’s hole, immediately sinking in down to a sharp knuckle and forcing a wobbly moan out of the blond as his tail began to wag.
“It wags?” Todoroki asked, slipping out then sinking back in casually—only inciting more eager wags.
“W-When I’m happy,” Mashirao stammered, burying his face into the cushion of his forearms.
“Getting fingered makes you that happy?” Todoroki asked again, voice quickly slipping from cute and aloof to seductive and rasped. “Does it wag when you get fucked, too, then?”
“F-Find out.” Mashirao looked over his shoulder and saw Todoroki’s demeanor change, just slightly—the squaring of his shoulders in stun and color spilling over his chiseled cheekbones. “Give it to me, Todoroki-“
“Call me Shouto.” He pushed another finger in alongside the first in a fluent movement, thrusting more harshly and with more vigor. Mashirao’s eyes fluttered as he wasted no time shoving in a third and the stretch of that ring of muscles around the intrusion finally became distinguishable, sending heat straight to his groin. He whimpered into his arms, impaling himself back onto Todoroki- Shouto’s hand, seeking more, deeper and knowing in the back of his mind that this was as far as the other boys fingers could go. Rational thought was quickly melting. “Scream it, nice and pretty, Ojiro.”
“Oh my god, I was not prepared for you to be this good at dirty talk, this is s-surreal.” Mashirao groaned, wagging tail curling up to further expose the subject of Shouto’s interest. He slid a hand beneath himself to grip his own nagging appendage and offer himself a little relief from the spiking sexual tension—Shouto’s cock settled on his backside again as his fingers eased out, leaving an empty hole and leaving Mashirao ready to beg as many times as necessary to be filled back up. “Shouto, please-”
Not much begging was necessary, apparently, as Shouto began inching his way into Mashirao’s body—he’d hardly popped the head in before Mashirao was sobbing from the burn and the heat from Shouto’s manhood melting his insides.
“Am I hurting you?” He immediately asked, voice tentative and soft.
Mashirao shook his head as best he could and Shouto still didn’t continue. He lifted his head, face wet, and cried, “No, it’s good- it’s good, I like it, f-f-eels good- you’re- s-so,” mid-sentence is when Shouto found it was best to push further in, Mashirao’s body and voice jumping in shock when he cried out, “BIG!”
A moment of silence followed as both of the teens waited for the inevitable sound of footsteps outside of the laundry room. Voices, growing closer to their filthy escapade.
They didn’t.
Another inch had Mashirao shaking uncontrollably as he struggled to adjust, still subconsciously trying to lance himself on Shouto and unable to as Shouto’s strong hands held him steady. He was surprisingly gentle for having been so straight-forward, talking his performance up so much as he made Mashirao hard just from his words.
“Go f-faster, Shouto,” Mashirao panted into his arm, brows knitted in frustration, “d-don’t want… anyone walking in wh-while you’re fucking me at a snail’s pace-”
“Ah, that was for your sake. Eager much?” Nothing in Shouto’s voice really insinuated he was in the middle of raunchy public sex—it was bizarre and incredulously just made Mashirao jerk himself off with more vigor as he nodded in likeness. “Can’t say I didn’t warn you, in that case.”
Shouto stabbed all the way inside and Mashirao immediately painted the floor with cum.
“Whoops.” Shouto said, clearly teasing as Mashirao shook himself apart under the other student, and slid out an inch or two just to thrust back in hard enough to make Mashirao’s knees and elbows squeak painfully against the floor. He left one hand on Mashirao’s hip and put the other on his lower belly, close enough to his now flagging dick for Mashirao to suck in a breath at the overstimulation he was being promised. “Was it too big?”
Mashirao hardly held in a frustrated and deeply aroused scream at the audacity.
His insides must’ve had a python grip around Shouto, because he was actually sounding rather desperate when he built a rhythm, pounding into Mashirao’s entrance mercilessly as he chased release, all the while Mashirao was biting his fist to keep from moaning at a pitch only dogs could hear, eyes rolling up and leaking tears without rest. He was easily the biggest Mashirao had ever taken and the biggest he’d seen outside of porn—he felt like he didn’t have enough room and if he looked down, his stomach would be distending with every ruthless thrust like he was in a cheesy hentai.
“Y-You did say you wanted me to be quick about it-” Shouto stammered out. Mashirao maneuvered his head to look over his shoulder at his expression, twisting in pleasure as he blindly chased release, studying Mashirao’s backside with a deliciously wanton look in his flat eyes. The blond couldn’t fucking take this delectible and self centered abuse, placed his hand over Shouto’s and moved it downwards until the boy got the hint and tightened his fist around Mashirao’s cock, borderline painful as he started pulling on him, just as eagerly as he was fucking the martial artist. Shouto was flushed down to his neck, now, and Mashirao could feel his fat cock pulsing against his insides as it rearranged his guts—Shouto gritted his teeth and thumbed over the tip of Mashirao’s sex. “So, stay still and take it all, ok?”
“Shouto, Shouto, Shouto, no-!”
It was too late and Mashirao felt Shouto begin to shoot his load inside, cock forced in as deep as it could go and his insides quickly turning into mush as his classmate filled him up in passionate, sloppy rolls of his strong hips. Mashirao couldn’t stop shuddering, his fingers gripping uselessly at the floor and shaky moans spilling out as Shouto finished him off with more talented, rough movements from his pretty little hand. He couldn’t deny how much creampies pleased him, however, when his tail began wagging without relent, seed spilling from his gaped hole when Shouto sheepishly eased his cock out. He was going to regret having to clean Shouto’s cum out of his guts later but fuck was it hot in the moment.
Unfortunately, Mashirao’s shout alerted whoever was nearest to the laundry room.
Who was then prompted to open the door.
“Hey, did you take my hoodie to-” Shouji paused mid-sentence as both teens stared at him in utter horror. “... wash… in the...” Shouji’s stunned gaze quickly flitted from the couple to the machine in question. More cum trickled out of Mashirao, down his thighs and balls. Shouto’s soft cock was still in his hand. Shouji was blushing. “... washer…”
When Shouji granted them a few minutes of ridiculously awkward privacy to haphazardly clean up, Shouto said to him, while cleaning Mashirao’s cum off the floor with a sock,
“Next time… let’s not do it here.”
Mashirao nodded, mostly out of embarrassment and didn’t really realize what his classmate had said until much later, after he’d had a chance to rigorously apologize to Shouji for what he’d witnessed. (“I’m traumatized,” the giant claimed, leisurely doing his homework after the incident in their shared room, “absolutely unconsolable, really. I’m going to need 500,000 yen from Endeavor personally for the emotional damage.”)
This was not going to be just one hook-up.
And the blond couldn’t decide whether that was good or not.