Work Text:
“You ready for our date, sunshine?” Oboro asks, appearing in the doorway of the bathroom and leaning against the doorframe.
“Almost!” Hizashi is too focused on working leave-in conditioner through his hair, making sure he gets it all the way to the ends, but he smiles at the image of his boyfriend he can see in the mirror. Oboro smiles back.
He takes up so much of the doorway. Hizashi is still almost as skinny as he was in high school—but Oboro was more muscular than him even then, and he’s only gotten more so. His baby-blue shirt clings to his chest and arms. He got tall, too, the top of his fluffy white hair brushing against the doorframe. Hizashi is far from short, but Oboro has a few inches to go with the more-than-a-few pounds he has on him.
Hizashi watches the smile turn into a smirk, and realizes that his hands have stopped running through his hair. “You done staring at me? Can we go now?” Oboro asks, amused.
Hizashi laughs even as he blushes. “Who could blame me when you look that good?” He sets down the comb. “Yeah, let’s go!”
Oboro moves aside to let him out of the bathroom. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you all prettied up. Feels like a while since I’ve seen you at all, somehow.”
Hizashi sighs. “Yeah. We all live together, we work together—but I’ve been doing overtime at the radio station and Shouta has been off at the stake-out. It’s too bad he couldn’t come today.”
“Yeah. It’s nice to get you all to myself, though,” Oboro says, and Hizashi blushes again.
“Where are we going, anyway?” He stops with his hand on the doorknob.
“It’s still a surprise,” Oboro says, grinning as he pulls a strip of black cloth out of his pocket.
Hizashi raises his eyebrows. “Oh? Kinky,” he teases, staying still as Oboro comes close to tie the blindfold around his head.
Despite his flippant tone, Hizashi can’t help but shiver, holding his breath in anticipation as he tips his head back slightly. Oboro’s hands are careful, brushing his hair back behind his ears, knotting the cloth securely. Hizashi feels his breath on his face, smells minty toothpaste, and he waits for a kiss.
The sweet tension of waiting breathlessly and blindly is unbroken, pulling out like taffy when Oboro steps back, grabbing his hand. “All right, let’s go!”
He leads Hizashi out the door of their apartment, but then they turn left—not right—and up the stairs—not down. “Are we going up to the roof? Why did I need a blindfold for that?” It is interesting walking up the stairs in the dark, guided by muscle memory and Oboro’s hand in his.
When they open the heavy door that leads to the roof, Hizashi’s hands go to undo the blindfold, curious about what’s up here, but Oboro stops him, pulling his hands down. “Not yet! I’ll tell you when you can take it off.”
He tugs Hizashi across the roof, and as far as he can tell, there’s nothing here. He slows down when he feels like he might be getting close to the edge—there’s a short wall, he couldn’t just walk off into empty space, but it’s not tall enough he couldn’t fall over it if he was unlucky enough.
Oboro notices his hesitation, pulling him forward again. “Keep going. I won’t let you fall.”
Hizashi chuckles nervously. This has become an exercise in trust, one he didn’t expect. “Are you sure? You know I can’t fly, right?” Still, he keeps moving forward, shuffling carefully until his toes hit the wall.
He almost—but not quite—screams when Oboro suddenly scoops him up in one motion, one arm behind his knees and one behind his back. They’re both lucky that all he lets out is a strangled squeak. “Hey!” Hizashi protests, even as he feels his face heat. “I could have hurt you!” He’s being cradled against a broad, firm chest, held in solid arms. It rumbles through him as Oboro laughs. It’s not often that a six foot plus pro hero feels small, but he does now.
Hizashi is too surprised to make any sound at all as Oboro tosses him over the edge.
He doesn’t fall more than a few inches before he’s sinking into a cottony mass that he recognizes as one of Oboro’s clouds. Still, his stomach seems to fall further, and his heart hammers in his throat. “You asshole,” he gasps when he finds his breath.
The cloud doesn’t behave like a bed—it doesn’t dip as Oboro climbs on it, so the first indication Hizashi gets that he’s there is when he straddles his hips, hands sinking into the cloud above his shoulders. “You like it,” Oboro says, and Hizashi can hear the same grin in his voice that he can feel stretching his own mouth.
There’s that tension again, his heart still racing like a first kiss, not sure if it’s coming or not, as Oboro’s breath ghosts across his face. It feels like minutes, would be if he was measuring it in heartbeats, in the racing thoughts as he stands on the edge of something, but this time there’s a payoff, a climax as warm lips meet his.
Hizashi can’t help but make a little noise, kissing back eagerly. He’s breathless as Oboro pulls back. “You like the adrenaline,” Oboro murmurs smugly.
He can’t deny that, so he just reaches up to tangle his hands in Oboro’s hair and pull him in for another kiss.
It feels like flying, like soaring, butterflies in his stomach. The height has something to do with it, being held high in the air by nothing more than his lover’s quirk, but his focus narrows down to the body on top of his and it becomes that part of this that’s so exciting. Hizashi’s hands move down to Oboro’s back, fingertips digging in to feel the way his muscles shift as he moves his hands to undo the knot on the blindfold.
Hizashi whines when Oboro rolls off of him, moving to follow him, but that makes the blindfold fall off, and he can suddenly see again. “Look up,” Oboro says, and he does.
The sky stretches out endlessly, filled with other clouds that dwarf the one they’re on, giant towering mountains of mist that make everything else small. “Oh wow,” Hizashi says, suddenly quiet and still before the sight.
Then he realizes what it means. He sits up with a start, looking around. He should be able to see the taller buildings of the city around him, but there’s nothing, just infinite blue sky.
Oboro reaches out, sitting up and pulling Hizashi into his lap, wrapping his arms around him. “I won’t let you fall,” he murmurs into his ear, brushing his hair back, and Hizashi shivers—shudders—melts.
“Yeah, I know,” he says, still slightly shaky. He’s grinning when he turns around. Oboro pulls him closer, so that they’re chest to chest.
Oboro’s hands start out in his hair as they kiss, Oboro more slow and languid and Hizashi pushing back eagerly enough to almost be desperate, but soon they’re moving down to back, to his hips, to grab his ass, wringing a surprised moan from Hizashi as Oboro grinds against him.
“Oh, come on,” Oboro teases, “you can be louder than that. Let everyone hear you.”
“Everyone?” Hizashi asks, looking around. “We seem to be pretty alone up here.”
“What if someone has a pair of binoculars? What if someone on one of the top floors of a skyscraper looks up?” Oboro grins. “Do you think Shouta can see us? Let’s give him a show.”
Hizashi bites his lip even as he flushes, and he moans again as Oboro’s hands grip harder, rubbing their groins together.
“Yeah, just like that, lovely,” Oboro tells him, moving one hand up to his hair, running through the silky locks once before gripping and yanking Hizashi’s head back, making him hiss and shudder. He moans slightly louder as Oboro bites his throat, the noise bouncing back in his mind like an echo, hearing himself like people are listening, an image of what he sounds like, what he looks like, reflecting his arousal like a mirror.
Suddenly the hands gripping him lift him up, moving him away and putting him down on the cloud. He sits up, missing the closeness and the friction, as Oboro stands. “Up on your knees,” Oboro says, and it could have been a request, but it’s a command he scrambles to obey.
Oboro’s hands go to his fly, unzipping it, shoving his underwear out of the way. His cock springs free, standing as proud as its owner, neither of them seeming to mind at all who might be watching.
Hizashi—well, it wouldn’t be right to say he minds, as he leans forward, mouth open to lick at the cock Oboro presents to him. It doesn’t bother him that people might be watching. Just like it doesn’t bother him how high they must be, that all that’s between him and plummeting to the ground is a few feet of quirk-solid mist. These things are just in the whole back of his mind, crowding out every other thought, leaving no room for anything but heart-pounding sensation.
Oboro groans as Hizashi takes his cock deeper into his mouth. “Yeah babe, that feels good.” Hizashi manages the last inch, his nose against the cloudy trail of hair up Oboro’s stomach, and a hand strokes his hair as he tries not to choke, tries to be open and relaxed, tries to be something that can take this heavy hard part of his lover. “You look so good,” Oboro praises.
Hizashi pulls back to breathe, and Oboro’s booted foot nudges his knees apart, steel toe carefully rubbing at the bulge in Hizashi’s pants. “Show everyone how much you’re enjoying this.”
Hizashi pulls out his own cock with fumbling fingers, moaning around the length in his mouth as he wraps his hand around it, jerking roughly.
Oboro’s hand grips the back of his head. “God, yeah. Just like that, baby. Show everyone how much you like being on your knees for me.”
When Hizashi ruts into his own hand, it’s not just the motion itself, it’s also what it looks like. He wants to know, to see, to be watched and watch in turn, to see the audience he’s performing for. As it is, he just works with the idea of them, bobbing his head on Oboro’s cock, feeling the stretch in his jaw and the hand in his hair as well as seeing them.
“Your pretty hair is all messed up,” Oboro helps, voice low and rough with arousal. “You look gorgeous. A filthy wreck.” He untangles his hand to stroke again, his voice going soft. “Does it feel good? Are you having a good time?”
Hizashi pulls back enough to smile, licking his slick lips. “Uh-huh!”
Oboro laughs, gripping his hair again, tugging hard enough to make him gasp and close his eyes. “Get back to it, then.”
Hizashi dives back in, sinking down eagerly, working his cock faster.
“I love your mouth,” Oboro pants, and Hizashi whines. “Are you getting close?”
Hizashi’s nod might have gotten lost in the bobbing of his head, but his desperate moan is answer enough.
“Me too,” Oboro groans as his cock twitches and leaks in Hizashi’s mouth. “You wanna show off how good you look with your face covered in cum? Or how well you can swallow?”
It’s a hard decision, and it’s the first choice Hizashi has been presented with since they started. He falters for a moment, but his answer is to take Oboro deeper, letting him slide into the back of his throat.
“O-okay,” Oboro grunts. “Fuck, Hizashi!” he swears, and then his mouth is flooded with bitter salt. That and the way Oboro says his name is enough to make him come too, pleasure ringing his body like a gong.
He coughs a little when he pulls back, slowly starting to feel the ache in his jaw. At least his knees don’t hurt; he might as well be kneeling on the world’s fluffiest pillow. He grins up at Oboro, who’s now petting his hair again. “I want a cloud every time I blow you.”
Oboro grins back at him. “I know, right? I wish they didn’t disappear when I fell asleep, or I’d totally sleep on one.”
Hizashi sprawls backwards, but his heart skips a beat when one hand meets thin air. Oboro lunges forward, grabbing him, even though he still has three limbs on the cloud. “Woah there!”
“I almost forgot we were flying,” he says, shaking his head before covering his face with a hand. “Ugh, and that we might be on the cover of some tabloid tomorrow!” That had been so exciting, but now his embarrassment is taking over.
Oboro just grins at him. “Nah. Look down.”
Hizashi carefully turns. “I almost don’t want to know how high we are,” he mutters, but peers over the edge anyway. What he sees makes his stomach drop, but it’s also a relief. The city below them is fuzzy with distance. They might as well be in an airplane.
He turns back to Oboro, smile full of relief and endorphins. “I wonder how jealous Shouta will be when we tell him we joined the mile high club!”