Work Text:
It’s a normal weekend. Shouta is bored, scrolling through memes and shitposts about cats (surprise, surprise) when all of a sudden he catches a tweet from his former protege advertising the launch of his OnlyFans.
“Cum spend the night with me” the tweet says.
Shouta hesitates.
Then clicks.
That was a mistake.
Heat floods his body and he’s excruciatingly aware of how quickly his dick is reacting to Hitoshi’s OnlyFans banner. A beautiful shot of his muscled back as he undresses, his hero costume slipping off and hanging from his hips. Looking over his shoulder.
Gazing off camera, as if someone who isn’t supposed to be there stumbled into the room and he’s only mildly annoyed but also fully expecting that person to help him undress the rest of the way.
His OF pfp is just his face, sporting his mask and a leer Shouta knows all too well.
It’s not like Shouta was completely oblivious to Hitoshi’s high school crush and admittedly he would have reciprocated his advances if Shouta didn’t think he’d get caught. But UA was monitoring everything back then, knowing a traitor was in their walls.
Now. There’s no excuse.
They’re both a tiny bit older. Hitoshi seems a lot bolder, more experienced—presumably in more ways than one.
At this age, Shouta has a total of zero fucks left to give, so he creates an OnlyFans account with a plain and innocuous username that won’t raise any suspicion whatsoever.
Bot7382822838
Hmm. He might regret that username later.
Even though Hitoshi’s account is fairly new, there are already a dozen posts, all locked unless he subscribes. His thumb hovers over the button for a long while before he sighs.
He wants to. Badly.
But, he shouldn’t.
And at least for a few days he’s able to resist. He tests his willpower by reading off the captions beneath the locked, blurred out media posts and timing how long it takes to put his phone away.
“Behind the scenes at a photoshoot, sneaking in a naughty pic just for you.”
“Showers at the office are nice, right?”
“Everyone’s wasted and knocked out at Deku’s party, so I locked myself in his bathroom to have a little fun. Live in 5 😉”
“I invited a friend over and we’re taking requests. Highest bidder gets two-on-one time, one hour. We’re waiting.”
Shouta’s tempted to subscribe every time. And Hitoshi must have an incredible PR manager and a loyal fanbase because there are no leaks anywhere and it drives Shouta crazy.
“Do I really have to pay 5,000 yen a month to see your dick?” Shouta mutters. “Is it really worth it?”
He’s still wavering when a new caption pops up that has his fingers flying to the subscribe button.
“first to donate in the next two min will get a vid of me cumming and moaning your name 💦”
There's a photo above the caption of Hitoshi licking something thick off his lips and Shouta's brain malfunctions, smashing the donate button as if his life depended on it.
(And it may.)
When his fingers finally stop, he blinks at the screen (in moderate horror) and wonders what on earth possessed him to pay 150 thousand yen just to watch Hitoshi shoot his load.
[Hitoshi🍆]: hey big spender 🪙
[Hitoshi🍆]: you realize it was first to donate?
Shit.
That was fast. Shouta is not at all prepared and he's pretty sure it's been years since they last talked. What the hell is he supposed to do? What's he supposed to say?
[Hitoshi🍆]: you could have dropped 1,000 yen and gotten the video
[Hitoshi🍆]: not that i'm complaining 😉
Shouta snorts. Even when Hitoshi is trying to flirt with his subscribers, he's throwing low-grade shade, and if that isn't just textbook Shinsou Hitoshi.
[Bot7382822838]: Sounds like complaining to me.
[Hitoshi🍆]: i'm not i swear
[Hitoshi🍆]: unless you're actually a bot
He knew he'd regret that username.
[Bot7382822838]: I'm regrettably very human
[Hitoshi🍆]: oh yeah?
[Hitoshi🍆]: prove it
[Hitoshi🍆]: show me a pic
Shouta grunts. That's not happening. There's no way he's circulating his ugly mug around the cyberweb, especially not on this site.
However...
Shouta's still hard from reading and rereading Hitoshi's horny captions, so he reclines on his couch, pulls his pants down just enough to free his cock, and takes a snapshot of his boner. He hits send before he can think the better of it.
God. He must be out of his fucking mind.
[Hitoshi🍆]: fuck
[Hitoshi🍆]: i meant a selfie but yeah okay
[Hitoshi🍆]: can i at least get a name?
[Hitoshi🍆] or am i just moaning Bot7382822838 for the video?
Shouta smirks. He considers making one up for the hell of it, but maintaining a fake identity sounds exhausting.
[Bot7382822838]: I would like to keep my anonymity.
[Hitoshi🍆]: that's cool. i just wanna know what to call u
Shouta takes a moment to think before it hits him.
[Bot7382822838]: Sensei.
The reply is delayed this time by a few minutes.
[Hitoshi🍆]: u want me to call u sensei?
[Bot7382822838]: Is that a problem?
[Hitoshi🍆]: no no
[Hitoshi🍆]: i like the roleplay
[Bot7382822838]: Good.
There's another delay and this time the silence is a bit awkward. Shouta isn't sure what more there is to say and he briefly wonders if he scared Hitoshi away or turned him off.
Before he can think too much of it, another message pops up.
[Hitoshi🍆]: r u still hard?
If he wasn't already, he is now. Shouta can feel the tight heat below his belly returning and the anticipation that Hitoshi might start sending him more than just words on a screen.
[Bot7382822838]: I am.
[Bot7382822838]: Are you?
He waits for a response and to his utter delight, Hitoshi sends not just a photo, but a ten second video. Which Shouta quickly saves into his album for posterity.
[Hitoshi🍆]: u tell me, sensei
Shouta clicks play instantly.
He can't make anything out at first, the screen too dark, but then a curtain is drawn open, and sunlight pours into the room, and suddenly the picture is crystal clear.
Onscreen, Hitoshi is sitting on the floor in front of a mirror, naked from the waist down and his legs spread.
His face is partly-covered and he's only got a white tee on, but that's all Shouta can take in before his eyes fix onto Hitoshi's cock, already dripping with cum. In fact, his hand is covered in it and Shouta can only watch with bated breath as Hitoshi starts licking his fingers.
Sucking each tip, one by one, tongue wiping his skin clean, and Shouta feels a guttural rumble in his throat as he grabs his own dick and starts jerking.
"Don't worry, sensei," Hitoshi purrs on screen, "I promise I'll send you a real video later. This was just practice."
The video clip ends and Shouta can't stop stroking himself. The idea—no, the reality that Hitoshi is sending him lewds, this young hero who he practically raised, is mind-numbing and, dare he say, a hundred times better than the cat videos he’s been cycling through everyday.
"Mmm, fuck, Hitoshi," Shouta breathes as he fucks into a tight fist. He imagines his former student on top of him, straddling him, riding him until he's cumming, and while he's not courageous enough to record himself, he does send Hitoshi a photo of his messy, sticky orgasm.
[Hitoshi🍆]: holy shit
[Hitoshi🍆]: u might be my new favorite subscriber
Shouta lets out a lazy laugh.
[Bot7382822838]: You're easily impressed.
[Hitoshi🍆]: i'm a good judge of character
Shouta laughs for real this time. One that produces a nice kind of warmth in his chest.
[Bot7382822838]: You do realize you've only seen my dick?
[Hitoshi🍆]: that's all i need
They do a little more flirting before Hitoshi excuses himself to get ready for some sort of charity dinner.
Shouta spends most of his night scrolling through the rest of Hitoshi's OF account.
He bookmarks a few photos and saves a few of the longer videos for a rainy day. He does end up caving in and watching a handful of clips of Hitoshi fucking himself with a toy before getting his ass off the couch to find his fleshlight.
He orgasms two more times by the time a new DM from Hitoshi comes through.
[Hitoshi🍆]: incoming
A video is sent immediately after and Shouta assumes it's his reward for the donation he made earlier.
[Hitoshi🍆]: hope u had a good night 😘
[Bot7382822838]: Given that I spent my entire evening fapping to your videos, I'd say it wasn't half bad.
[Hitoshi🍆]: LOL
[Hitoshi🍆]: i hope you're being sincere. either way sounds like a great night
[Bot7382822838]: I imagine even better after I've watched this.
[Hitoshi🍆]: 😏
Shouta slides into the bath he had been drawing when Hitoshi's message came in and clicks play.
Fuck. Nothing can really prepare you for a video like this. It's ten glorious minutes of Hitoshi in his living room, completely naked, the camera perched between his thighs.
His legs are spread wide as he pulls out a black buttplug and Shouta can see up close how stretched his skin is, especially as Hitoshi pushes a thick, purple ribbed dildo into his hole.
"Sensei, fuuuuck" echoes off the walls as Hitoshi's face contorts with pleasure.
Hitoshi is relentless fucking himself with that dildo, gasping sharply whenever he pulls all the way out before slamming it back in. Shouta imagines railing him and takes mental notes for the day he maybe hopefully surely can fuck the young pro himself.
Ten minutes later, Hitoshi cums.
Shouta follows and, when he catches his breath, sends Hitoshi a DM.
[Bot7382822838]: Thank you.
Because, yeah, that's the best he can do after an orgasm like that. Especially in a bathtub full of water.
[Hitoshi🍆]: Thank me with a gift? 😇
A link to Hitoshi's wishlist appears and Shouta smiles.
[Bot7382822838]: Only fair.
❧ · ❧· ❧· ❧
A week later, Shouta wakes up from his late afternoon nap to the following messages.
[Hitoshi🍆]: look what arrived 👀
[Hitoshi🍆]: shiny + in my fave color too
A photo of a long, lavender-colored dildo appears next, shaped to look (and probably feel) like an actual cock.
Shouta jolts up. His jeans are already way too tight and he scrambles to unbutton and unzip his jeans to free his growing erection.
[Bot7382822838]: Purple's your favorite color? Who would have guessed.
[Hitoshi🍆]: 😐
[Hitoshi🍆]: u know, ur lucky ur a brand of asshole i actually like 🤣
[Bot7382822838]: What brand is that?
[Hitoshi🍆]: rich 💸
Shouta chuckles. He's not rich by any means, not on a teacher's salary, just minimalistic and capable of maintaining a healthy savings.
[Bot7382822838]: Are you testing out your new toy now?
[Hitoshi🍆]: thinking about it
[Bot7382822838]: What can I do to convince you?
[Hitoshi🍆]: hmm
[Hitoshi🍆]: u free to watch?
Technically, he is. He's become somewhat of a recluse ever since he subscribed to Hitoshi's OF, eager to be available for whenever Hitoshi decides to DM him.
Which has been often.
But, they have yet to go into a live chat room together. Shouta hasn't even sent him a video clip. The most he's done is hop onto Hitoshi's livestream, but admittedly he doesn't find it very fun, watching the other pervs fawn over Hitoshi as if they know him.
Which they don't.
Not in the way Shouta does.
[Bot7382822838]: Do I have to be on camera?
[Hitoshi🍆]: i mean it'd be nice to see u
[Hitoshi🍆]: but do what makes u most comfortable
[Hitoshi🍆]: u don't have to show your face if u don't want to
Shouta bites his bottom lip. He can work with that.
He tells Hitoshi that he'll pop into the chat room in five and hurries to find a more comfortable setup.
He goes with his office desk for the simple fact that his monitor is 27-inches and if he's going to watch Hitoshi use his new toy, he's going to do it in 1440p resolution.
He places the webcam on a box in front of his legs and makes sure the video clearly captures his body from the neck down before entering the chat room.
Two seconds before his feed connects he wonders if he should have shaved his happy trail.
[Hitoshi🍆]: welcome welcome 😘
Hitoshi is stunning in HD. He looks comfortable in bed, wearing a graphic tee and a pair of sweats, the dildo and a bottle of lube nearby. Shouta can see his face this time and immediately he can tell that Hitoshi's stoned, his eyes glossy and his lids a little too heavy.
His jaw is also slacked and Shouta imagines slipping his tongue between Hitoshi's parted mouth just so he can share the taste of cannabis on his lips.
[Hitoshi🍆]: wanna stay muted?
[Bot7382822838]: If that's okay
[Hitoshi🍆]: np
The camera shakes as Hitoshi adjusts his laptop. Shouta snorts, catching the mismatched cat socks.
[Bot7382822838]: Cute socks.
[Hitoshi🍆]: they were a gift!
[Hitoshi🍆]: and it's chilly
[Bot7382822838]: Let me warm you up then.
A wide grin spreads across Hitoshi's face and he leers into the lens like he can 𝘴𝘦𝘦 Shouta.
[Hitoshi🍆]: u wanna see me cum?
[Bot7382822838]: You know I do.
As Hitoshi types, Shouta can see the outline of his bulge through his sweats and wonders if Hitoshi can see the same view on his end.
[Hitoshi🍆]: wanna help?
[Bot7382822838]: Sure.
[Bot7382822838]: How?
[Hitoshi🍆]: let me see how hard i got u
Shouta sucks in a breath as he unzips his jeans again. This time he stands to take them off completely and when he sits back down, his throbbing, red cock takes up half the screen.
[Bot7382822838]: Better?
[Hitoshi🍆]: god yes
[Hitoshi🍆]: you might be as big as my new dildo
Confirmed, Shouta checked before he made the purchase, the dildo's eight inches, but probably not as thick.
[Bot7382822838]: You can pretend it's me fucking you.
[Hitoshi🍆]: oh, sensei. i've been pretending it's you all week
Shouta starts stroking himself and already there's precum pouring out of the tip of his cock. He shivers, lathering himself with it, the arousal washing over him.
[Hitoshi🍆]: so hot
[Bot7382822838]: Can you take it off?
Hitoshi smirks, eyes flickering with mischief.
[Hitoshi🍆]: take what off? 😉
Shouta grunts.
[Bot7382822838]: All of it.
[Hitoshi🍆]: as u wish, sensei
Hitoshi strips his shirt off first. It's a body Shouta hasn't seen since Hitoshi's youth, a body that's matured and scarred over the years, stronger than it's ever been.
Shouta's eyes rake over a set of tight abs and a pair of broad shoulders, and he can't quite help the strangled sound that comes out when he catches the veins along Hitoshi’s muscled arms.
The pants and socks come off next and Shouta can feel his mouth going completely dry as Hitoshi reaches for the dildo.
He licks it first. Just the tip. Nips it gently with his teeth before sliding the tip down his chin. Down his neck. Rubs it around his chest, circling each of his nipples until they're hard and plump.
[Hitoshi🍆]: like what u see?
[Bot7382822838]: yes
[Bot7382822838]: suck on it
Shouta's eyes are glued to the screen, hand pumping his cock, as Hitoshi slips the dildo between his lips and, just like that, the dildo disappears into his mouth. Shouta whimpers, furiously bucking his hips up, imagining his own dick between Hitoshi's hollowed cheeks.
[Bot7382822838]: gorgeous
And because Shouta can't fucking help himself, he adds:
[Bot7382822838]: choke on it
Hitoshi happily obeys, tripping the button so the dildo thrusts in his throat. His eyes roll back and Shouta moans out loud as Hitoshi's dick twitches on screen.
If only he can hear the noises Hitoshi's making.
[Bot7382822838]: you like it rough?
[Hitoshi🍆]: i do
Hitoshi takes the dildo and runs it along his body until it's between his thighs. He takes the buttplug out and lets the vibrating dildo thrust the tip in and out of his hole.
[Bot7382822838]: tease
[Hitoshi🍆]: tell me what to do, sensei
[Bot7382822838]: do it from behind
[Hitoshi🍆]: want a new view?
[Bot7382822838]: I want to imagine fucking you from behind
[Bot7382822838]: Slamming into you and making your legs shake
[Hitoshi🍆]: god i'd love that
The sight onscreen changes as Hitoshi turns, shifting until he's on all fours, back arched so his ass is in front of the camera. Shouta strokes himself faster, the heat tightening in his groin, and it's just unrestrained pleasure as Hitoshi reaches to spread his ass cheeks apart.
His gaping hole on display, good enough to rail over and over, and Shouta's disappointed that he's not there to fill Hitoshi himself. Luckily, the disappointment is short-lived because Hitoshi's suddenly sliding the dildo, still thrusting, into his hole, and Shouta loses it.
His mind goes blank, completely lost in the hysteria of imagining that dildo as an extension of himself because he's had it, he's done, he wants Hitoshi for himself. Wants to fuck him into submission, wants to hear Hitoshi moaning his name, his actual name.
"Oh fuck."
[Bot7382822838]: close
[Hitoshi🍆]: cum, sensei
[Hitoshi🍆]: cum on that camera for me
Shouta steals a glimpse at his monitor and there's Hitoshi, his face back on screen, this time with his mouth wide open as if he's ready to take all of Shouta's load.
[Bot7382822838]: wider
Hitoshi opens wider, tongue hanging out, and Shouta snatches the camera closer, stroking over the lens until he's finishing all over the glass.
It takes a few minutes for his head to stop spinning. Shouta slumps back in his chair, wiping the cum off his hands with his shirt.
[Hitoshi🍆]: u okay, sensei?
[Bot7382822838]: Peachy.
[Bot7382822838]: That was incredible.
[Hitoshi🍆]: 😘😘
[Hitoshi🍆]: u wanna try something else next time?
[Bot7382822838]: Like what?
[Hitoshi🍆]: maybe a little roleplay? that's your thing, right, sensei?
Shouta licks his lips. He's pretty sure he can't say no to Hitoshi at this point.
[Bot7382822838]: Absolutely.
[Hitoshi🍆]: what would u like me to wear?
❧ · ❧· ❧· ❧
Hours before their roleplay session, Hitoshi says he'll be on voice chat. Claims that it's just easier to be hands free.
Shouta's thrilled. He's been yearning to hear Hitoshi's voice again.
[Bot7382822838]: What would you like me to wear?
[Hitoshi🍆]: mmm whatever u want
[Bot7382822838]: Come on. Are you telling me there wasn't one teacher you wanted to bang in high school?
Yeah, okay, maybe he's fishing for compliments, but there aren't a lot of people who go for the fuzzy, sleep-deprived type (that he knows of).
[Hitoshi🍆]: there was one
[Bot7382822838]: Let me dress up as them.
[Bot7382822838]: I'll fulfill that fantasy for you.
Even though it really is more reality than it is fantasy.
[Hitoshi🍆]: yeah, okay 🙂
[Hitoshi🍆]: i'd like that
[Hitoshi🍆]: it was eraserhead. i can help u find a costume, if u want?
Shouta chokes on his beer. God, the irony of it all.
[Bot7382822838]: Don't worry, I'll manage.
Later that night, before settling at his desk, he slaps on the costume he was wearing earlier at school and again angles the camera from the neck down.
When he hops in the chatroom, Hitoshi is already waiting for him.
He's sitting on the floor this time, right next to a pink dildo sticking up on the hardwood, ready to ride.
"Evening, sensei," Hitoshi purrs into the camera and Shouta feels the blood rushing to his cheeks.
Seeing Hitoshi like that, back in his school uniform, shouldn't make him this hard, but fuck, it does. The fitted, dark blue-green pants. The gray blazer over a clean, white button-down shirt, only halfway buttoned. The long red tie loosely hanging around his collar.
It takes him right back. Right back to when Hitoshi was just the ripe age of 15, clueless about the world but determined to get what he wanted.
And he always did manage to get what he wanted. Eventually.
"That's a pretty convincing costume," Hitoshi says on screen.
Shouta chuckles.
[Bot7382822838]: I did my best.
"But, you're missing something," Hitoshi says, clicking his tongue. He reaches for something off camera.
[Bot7382822838]: I am?
[Bot7382822838]: What's that?
Hitoshi reveals a pair of bright yellow goggles. Eraser’s goggles.
"I may have swiped this from your desk when you weren't looking, sensei," Hitoshi says with a naughty look and Shouta can't for the life of him tell if he's roleplaying or actually telling the truth. He palms his clothed hard-on, watching Hitoshi put the goggles around his neck.
[Bot7382822838]: You were always the troublemaker, weren't you?
"Maybe I just wanted to be disciplined."
Hitoshi crawls over to his laptop and Shouta holds his breath, sliding his hand down his pants, wrapping his fingers around his dick.
"Maybe I wanted you to punish me."
Shouta groans, stroking his cock, mesmerized by the unbridled lust in Hitoshi's eyes.
He knows that look; remembers with picture perfect clarity the way Hitoshi used to study him in school. Hitoshi always looked at his teacher as if he wanted something more from him. To kiss him. Touch him. Fuck him.
"Didn't you like it?" Hitoshi asks, unraveling the tie. "Didn't you notice how much I flirted with you? The way I stood too close? The little touches I stole?"
He did notice. He did like it.
[Bot7382822838]: Why me?
Hitoshi raises a brow as if he's surprised by the question. He reclines back, bracing himself with his elbows. "Do you really have to ask that? I mean, fuck. Look at you."
Shouta's cheeks start to burn and he has to remind himself that they're still roleplaying. Right?
They have to be.
"You're exactly my type," Hitoshi says, chuckling. "Patient. Clever. Stubborn. Strong-willed. A dry sense of humor. I couldn't help but fall for you. And I fell. Hard." He lowers his voice. “I still have those feelings, sensei.”
Shouta blushes, scowling at the butterflies fluttering around in the pit of his stomach.
The impromptu confession was unexpected. Not unwelcomed, but definitely unexpected.
And he can't deny it. He feels the same.
Shit. This is bad. Shouta wants him. Needs him.
"I tried everything I could," Hitoshi pouts, bottom lip jutted out, "just to get your attention."
Shouta swallows thickly.
[Bot7382822838]: There were other ways to get my attention.
Hitoshi looks directly into the lens, the corners of his lips tugging up into a small smile. "Oh yeah? Tell me, sensei."
Shouta reaches for the keyboard, then pauses.
Fuck. He's going to regret this.
He unmutes. In a low voice he hopes Hitoshi doesn't recognize, he whispers, "Let me see more of you, Shinsou."
Hitoshi's eyes widen, ears pricking up at the familiar voice saying his family name. "S-Sensei?"
"Strip," Shouta orders. "Now."
Hitoshi obliges, moving in a catatonic-like state, as if he's trying to make sense of this fantasy-reality crossover. The pants come off and then the jacket, but Shouta stops him from disrobing the rest.
"Unbutton the shirt," Shouta murmurs, squeezing the precum out of his cock.
"God, you sound just like him," Hitoshi whispers, fingers gliding down his shirt until Shouta has an unobstructed view of Hitoshi's hard cock.
"Convincing, isn't it?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it's real convincing." Hitoshi's eyes drift to the corner of his monitor, watching Shouta closely.
"Do you like my body, sensei?" Hitoshi asks, the words heavy in his mouth. He runs a hand down his midriff until his fingers wrap around his cock.
"I do, you worked hard for it," Shouta says, studying the way Hitoshi reacts to his voice. "Did I tell you to touch yourself?"
"Mmm," Hitoshi says, licking his lips, unable to stop his hand from moving. "I was just taking a little initiative."
"You call it initiative. I call it disobedience."
Hitoshi whimpers, stroking himself faster. "I—ah—wish you were here. You know I do better hands on."
Shouta grunts. The things he would do to get his hands on Hitoshi. "What would you do if I was there, Shinsou? Tell me."
He eyes the dildo, and he sees Hitoshi catching on and glancing over his shoulder.
Hitoshi looks back at the camera. "Want me to show you?"
"God, yes."
Hitoshi crawls back to the dildo on all fours, wrinkled fabric draped over smooth skin, goggles around his slender neck, and all Shouta can think is fuck , he can't be responsible for the things he'd do if they were face-to-face.
Clothes would be torn off, skin would be marred as he dragged sharp nails across Hitoshi's back. He'd fuck him nonstop, punching out a breathy whine with each thrust until the wind was knocked completely out of him.
"Sensei," Hitoshi says, dragging Shouta out of his fantasy.
Shouta blinks and catches Hitoshi tucking a strand of purple hair behind his ear before bending over the dildo and swallowing it whole.
This time Shouta can hear everything.
The loud sucking noises as Hitoshi hollows out his cheeks. The way the floorboard creaks as he bobs his head up and down. The "Mmm, mmm, mmmm" as he desperately satiates his desire. It has Shouta's cock aching for the heat of Hitoshi's mouth. The feel of his tongue and his lips.
"Get on top, Hitoshi," Shouta breathes, mind reeling. "Bounce on that cock, let me feel those hips of yours."
The seconds it takes for Hitoshi to shift gears is agonizing, but Shouta muscles through it and by the time Hitoshi climbs on top of the dildo, his brain has shut down.
Shouta jerks himself relentlessly, panting and sweating through his costume as Hitoshi slowly slides the dildo between his thighs, hands braced on the floor. He moans "oh fuck" as he slams his hips down and there's a blitzed out look on his face being filled up too quickly.
"Oh god, sensei," Hitoshi pleads desperately. He starts bouncing on the thing at full speed, barely giving himself the time to adjust. "That feels so fucking good."
Shouta shudders. "Faster. Give me something to think about after this. Give me something to dream about."
Hitoshi lets out a sob. He rolls his hips, lifting his shirt as he rides it, skin glistening in sweat. Shouta feels like a furnace, watching him work for it.
"Your dick feels so good, sensei. Feels so good."
"God yes, Hitoshi," Shouta groans. "This is how you get my attention."
"Fuck fuck fuck—sensei—"
"Shouta," Shouta blurts out, no longer in control of anything.
"W-What?"
"Call me Shouta," Shouta begs, fucking his hand, chasing his orgasm, just out of reach. He's so close. So fucking close. "That was your teacher's name, wasn't it?"
Hitoshi moans a sort of affirmative response. "Mmm...Shouta...please."
Shouta bites tongue, a tiny mewl escaping his lips. "Again."
"Shouta," Hitoshi chokes out. "I love this. I love this."
"Hitoshi, I'm gonna—" Shouta stands, stroking his cock over the lens like before.
He spills his cum over the webcam. The pleasure barrels through him like a tidal wave, over and over, and for some reason he can't stop. He can’t stop.
"Shit," Shouta whimpers, pumping his cock, cum dripping all over his floors. "I can't stop cumming."
"Shouta..."
Shouta's heaving when they're finally done. It feels different this time. He feels raw and vulnerable and emotionally spent, but the endorphins are insane and has him smiling stupidly at his monitor.
"Sorry," Hitoshi apologizes sheepishly. "Kinda got carried away."
"It's fine."
It takes a moment for Shouta to realize that they're still on voice chat, but before he can figure out how to disconnect this call tastefully, Hitoshi says,
"I should get cleaned up."
Shouta sighs in relief. "Okay."
"Do you wanna reconnect later for a little aftercare?"
Shouta can't help but smile at that. "I think I'll be alright." He pauses. "Will you?"
Hitoshi chuckles. "I'll be fine." He grins at the camera and Shouta's heart melts into one giant puddle. "Hey, sensei? Did you have fun?"
"I did."
"Would you want to go on a date?"
Shouta's chest tightens. "A date?"
"Not in person," Hitoshi says, waving his hand dismissively. "I just think it might be fun to do this kind of thing somewhere more...public."
Shouta snorts. For some reason, that doesn't surprise him. "Where?"
❧ · ❧· ❧· ❧
[Hitoshi🍆]: so
[Hitoshi🍆]: when can i see ur face?
[Bot7382822838]: My dick not good enough for you?
[Hitoshi🍆]: u know i love ur cock
[Hitoshi🍆]: i just wanna see the faces u make when i make u cum
Shouta looks down. Cock already hardening. The kid’s words are like magic.
Shouta wasn’t expecting Hitoshi to message him for another hour or so, since most nightclubs are just now opening. Although ever since their roleplay, they haven’t been able to stop texting each other. In fact, it’s hard for either of them to go twenty minutes without messaging.
[Bot7382822838]: Why don’t you just picture Eraserhead?
[Hitoshi🍆]: i do
[Hitoshi🍆]: but that’s just fantasy
[Hitoshi🍆]: isn’t it?
Shouta’s stomach drops. His mind starts screaming he knows he knows he knows, but he shakes his head because he can’t know.
It’s impossible. Hitoshi wouldn’t let him go on for this long without calling him out. Right?
[Bot7382822838]: You are so whipped.
[Hitoshi🍆]: LOL yeah
[Hitoshi🍆]: i am
[Hitoshi🍆]: wanna see what i’m wearing to the club?
[Bot7382822838]: Sure.
He expects a photo but instead Shouta gets a notification that Hitoshi is streaming Live.
“Surprise, everyone,” Hitoshi says, waving at the camera. “Don’t mind the spontaneity, I’m on my way to a club and could use the cash. Plus I’m pretty buzzed. Not to mention horny.”
Shouta’s dick responds to that and while he’s a little irked that there are other people in the audience, all of whom don’t deserve Hitoshi’s attention, he’s mildly aware that this is the kind of reaction Hitoshi was probably hoping for.
[Bot7382822838]: Are you trying to make me jealous or something?
[Hitoshi🍆]: oh
[Hitoshi🍆]: r u jealous? 😏
Wildly.
Hitoshi looks directly in the lens with a sultry expression meant just for him before reaching to flip a light switch above him.
He’s in the back of a car. A limousine, it seems, given the amount of room there is. The windows are tinted and the picture is grainy, but Hitoshi still looks sexy as fuck. Shouta yanks the waistband of his pants down and his cock springs free.
“The GPS says 12 minutes upon arrival,” Hitoshi says, already stripping off the purple fishnet stockings beneath his black t-shirt dress that’s just long enough to cover his hips. “How about we have some fun till then?”
He moves to a corner of the backseat, ass hanging off the edge. He spreads his legs in a way that has Shouta cursing under his breath and when Hitoshi props a foot against the window, the cam gets a shot of his nice, round ass wrapped in black mesh panties that open in the back.
“Tip if you like what you see,” Hitoshi says sinfully.
Shouta isn’t the type to be easily provoked; he’s normally very composed and level-headed even during high-pressure situations, but there’s something about seeing Hitoshi slide two fingers into his mouth that makes him snap.
“Mmm,” Hitoshi hums, sucking his fingers loudly, only pulling them out until his perfectly manicured, glitter nails are dripping wet. “Who wants to fuck me tonight?”
Shouta stares, jaw dropped, as Hitoshi glides his hand between his thighs, rubbing circles at the entrance with his middle finger before pressing into it. Shouta strokes himself furiously, saliva dribbling from his lips to his cock until he’s soaked in it.
“Oh, god…one more,” Hitoshi gasps as he slides a second finger in. “You watching closely? See how stretched I am?”
He can. In fact, Shouta’s amazed how easily the taut skin gives in as Hitoshi fucks himself.
He can only imagine how good it would feel squeezing his own cock through that tight little hole.
“This is your fault, you know,” Hitoshi murmurs, his voice broken and whiney. “I can’t stop fucking myself because of you.”
Shouta knows Hitoshi’s talking to him specifically and honestly he can’t say he feels bad about being blamed for something he absolutely has control over. He wants to be the only reason for Hitoshi’s desperation; he wants to be the only person Hitoshi thinks about.
“It’s not enough.” Hitoshi reaches for the grab handle above the window with his free hand, forehead wrinkled as he shoves the length of his fingers inside his hole over and over.
“Oh fuck, I want more. It’s driving me crazy.”
“Jesus, Hitoshi,” Shouta groans, more blood rushing to his boner and he swears to fuck he’s going to burst.
“I need it,” Hitoshi chokes out. “I—oh fuck, I need it. Who’s gonna give it to me?”
The goad works and the tips roll in but Shouta still can’t help but mutter, “None of these losers.”
“Yesyesyes, fuck me,” Hitoshi begs. He pulls his fingers out to pump his leaking cock, lifting his t-shirt dress up to his chest, likely to avoid staining it.
When he orgasms, it’s loud and high-pitched, body shivering as he rides it out. Shouta finishes immediately after, hot cum trickling over his fingers.
“Fuck,” Hitoshi laughs breathlessly. He hooks a thumb around his panties and slips them off, wiping his hands clean with it.
“I guess I’m going commando tonight.”
Shouta groans because fuck that’s sexy. He snatches some tissues to clean himself off, watching the screen out of the corner of his eye.
“Thanks for all the tips, everyone,” Hitoshi says, leaning closer to the camera. “I have more than enough to get tanked tonight.”
Shouta snorts as Hitoshi waves goodbye to his fans, telling them he’s arrived at the club. The stream stops and five seconds later, a DM pops up.
[Hitoshi🍆]: enjoy the show?
[Bot7382822838]: You’re a piece of work, you know that?
[Hitoshi🍆]: you love it
The DMs stop momentarily and Shouta figures Hitoshi’s taking the time to warm up, get through the lines, probably flirt with the bartender to get a free drink.
So, Shouta waits.
Fifteen minutes later, he's bombarded with photos of Hitoshi in a dark club with blue strobe lights and a mass of people behind him, all vying for his attention.
Shouta grips his phone as the photos continue to come in. Hitoshi with a drink in his hand. Grinding between bodies on the dance floor. He looks drenched in sweat and absolutely delicious and Shouta can’t stand it anymore.
He can’t stand it.
[Hitoshi🍆]: how do i look?
[Bot7382822838]: Irresistible.
[Hitoshi🍆]: u wanna join me?
[Bot7382822838]: Badly.
For a second he contemplates just coming clean, telling Hitoshi who he is, but before he can give it any more thought, another photo pops up.
This time the photo is Hitoshi in one of the restrooms, standing in front of a mirror, t-shirt dress raised to show his stiff erection.
[Hitoshi🍆]: how bad do u want me?
[Bot7382822838]: I’ll do anything
[Hitoshi🍆]: then cum find me, sensei 😘
❧ · ❧· ❧· ❧
Hitoshi was always a bit of a pain in the ass in high school, but three nightclubs and ten thousand yen in cab fare later, Shouta’s about to lose his shit.
[Hitoshi🍆]: r u here yet?
[Bot7382822838]: I’m done chasing you.
[Hitoshi🍆]: 😢 r u giving up that easily?
A photo pops up of some slimy fuck with a handlebar moustache and a popped collar with his arm around Hitoshi’s neck, and suddenly Shouta is seething for an entirely different reason.
[Hitoshi🍆]: cum snatch me up before some1 else does
Fuck. Shouta clutches his seatbelt and tells the driver to try one more place.
[Bot7382822838]: You better be worth it.
[Hitoshi🍆]: u know i am
As much as it pains him to admit it, Shouta knows he’s whipped. Gone the moment he heard Hitoshi moan his given name like a fucking porn star.
Besides, this cat-and-mouse game has gotten him so riled that if Hitoshi taunts him with one more photo, then he seriously cannot be held responsible for the debauchery he’s willing to engage in.
When the taxi drops him off at the club, Shouta once again tries to ignore the fact that he’s severely overdressed, at least for this crowd who favors crop tops over sensible button-downs, and heads straight for the bar.
Because he needs a drink. Now.
Unfortunately, he can barely get to the counter because it’s asses to elbows and any attempts to hail one of the bartenders is thwarted by a patron who just happens to be louder or cuter or more obnoxious. He’s two seconds from giving up when a familiar body slides beside him.
It’s a body he knows well. A body he’s fantasized— no, studied on video, memorizing every mole and blemish with unnerving precision. A body that’s here. Goading him. So close that Shouta only needs to sway forward and his boner would be pressed against Hitoshi’s back.
Seeing Hitoshi, in the flesh, is nothing like seeing him on screen. Matted purple hair that Shouta can easily grab, beads of sweat dripping down that slender neck he can nip and suck, full lips curled into a smirk that he so badly wants to kiss.
“Eraserhead.”
Shouta freezes. “Shinsou.”
“I didn’t know you were the type to go out clubbing.” Hitoshi glances over his shoulder and gives him a once over. A lowkey judgemental look if he ever saw one. “Or the type to own skinny jeans.” He leans over to fix Shouta’s collar. “Or wear cologne.”
“Are you done sniffing me?”
Hitoshi looks up at him and squints before turning around to squeeze his way into a small opening at the bar.
No snarky remark. No flirty look inviting him to follow.
No indication whatsoever that Hitoshi recognizes Shouta as Bot7382822838 and god fucking dammit. They’re finally face-to-face and Hitoshi is still making him work for it.
It was better when he could just throw money at him.
“Hey.” Shouta grunts, making his way through the crowd. “What do I have to do to get a drink around here?”
“Hmm. Take your shirt off?” Hitoshi suggests.
“Pretty sure no one wants to see that.”
“Not true,” Hitoshi mumbles before grabbing a bartender’s attention. “Two vodka shots.” He pauses to give Shouta an innocent look. “If you don’t mind.”
“Are you paying?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Then I don’t mind.”
The bartender comes back with two shot glasses and a wide ass grin plastered on his face. They’ve been recognized. “Shinsou! You streaming tonight?”
Hitoshi grins and there’s a glint in his eye when he turns to hand Shouta his drink. “Something like that.”
“And is that really Eraserhead?” The bartender whistles, leaning over the counter. “You lose a bet or something?”
Shouta snorts. “Something like that.”
Luckily, the fanfare is short-lived as another patron whisks the bartender away and Shouta is suddenly caught under the weight of Hitoshi’s gaze.
“Cheers,” Hitoshi purrs, pressing the shot glass against Shouta’s chest.
Shouta can’t breathe. The touch nearly immobilizes him and he doesn’t realize that he’s just standing there like an idiot until Hitoshi drains his glass.
Shouta gets a hold of himself and drinks, disappointed when it goes down like water. He’s going to need something stronger.
“Hey, you wanna—” he stops, catching Hitoshi jamming his phone back into a small clutch purse. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Hitoshi says somewhat bashfully. “Just checking on my date.”
Shouta stills. Heart pounding. Trying to keep his cool. “You…waiting for someone?”
“Just some guy I met on my OnlyFans.” Hitoshi wrinkles his nose in a way that’s irritatingly cute. “He’s mysteriously gone quiet.”
I wonder why.
“Maybe he’s not that into you.”
Hitoshi stares and Shouta can tell he’s holding back a laugh. “You would know.”
“Maybe I do,” Shouta blurts out and this time Hitoshi bursts into laughter.
“Do you even know what online dating is like?” Hitoshi teases, jabbing him in the ribs.
Shouta shrugs, snatching Hitoshi’s wrist before he can think anything of it. “Something something swipe left. DTF. Catfish.”
There’s a pause. Shouta doesn’t let go of Hitoshi’s hand and Hitoshi doesn’t try to pry himself away.
“Wow. That was embarrassing.”
“Shut it, Zoomer.”
Hitoshi blinks. “You are so old.”
“I believe the word you’re looking for is experienced,” Shouta drawls. He gives Hitoshi’s arm an experimental tug, but doesn’t expect him to lose his footing.
Shouta catches him before he falls, one hand firmly planted just above Hitoshi’s hips, the other gripping Hitoshi’s hand. When Hitoshi looks up, he blushes a pretty pink and Shouta has the real urge to kiss him.
“So,” Hitoshi says, reluctant to pull away, “are you here with someone?”
It’s Shouta’s turn to blush. “I am.”
You. I’m with you and you know it.
Hitoshi turns back to face the bar, flashing him a sly smile. “Too bad.”
Shouta resists rolling his eyes. He should have known that Hitoshi would be a menace the whole way through. Making Shouta believe that he was actually fooling Hitoshi with his crappy username and cropped images.
Shouta is a sucker but it’s Hitoshi’s fault.
Hitoshi made him this way.
“How about one more drink?” Shouta whispers in Hitoshi’s ear, standing behind him as close as he can without touching him. “On me.”
Hitoshi steals a glimpse out of the corner of his eye, but refuses to give Shouta his full attention. “Alright.”
Shouta signals to the same bartender. “Let us do a layback. Tequila.”
The bartender considers his request with a quirked eyebrow, glancing back and forth at Shouta and Hitoshi, before eventually relenting.
“Technically, I’m not allowed to let patrons do laybacks, but since you’re my kid’s favorite hero, I’ll let it slide.”
“I’m flattered.”
“I was talking about Shinsou.”
Hitoshi chuckles and Shouta glares as the bartender hands him a bottle of Patrón.
“What’s a layback?” Hitoshi asks, turning to Shouta.
“What it sounds like,” Shouta replies, twisting the cork off. “Lean back.”
There’s a feral look in Hitoshi’s eyes before he tilts his head back. Shouta grabs the bottle by the neck, taking a swig for himself before holding a thumb over the rim and pouring tequila into Hitoshi’s mouth.
He counts three seconds, watching the liquor spill down his neck, before slamming the bottle on the counter and yanking Hitoshi by the shirt. Shouta licks him, neck to jaw, lapping the tequila off his skin until he can drink it from his lips.
Hitoshi moans when Shouta kisses him, open mouth and dirty. Shouta can feel Hitoshi’s body melting in his arms and he takes that opportunity to pull him closer, both hands flat on his ass.
When Hitoshi breaks the kiss, there’s a fucked look on his face before he buries it in Shouta’s chest. “Sensei.”
“You’re a piece of work, you know that?”
Hitoshi smiles into his shirt. “You love it.”
“I do.”
Shouta cards his fingers through Hitoshi’s hair before tugging his head back and dragging him into another heated kiss.
They make out for an ungodly amount of time, but no one stops them, even when Shouta gets handsy.
He explores every inch he can, hands snaking beneath the shirt dress, delighted when he’s reminded that Hitoshi isn’t wearing any underwear.
“Can you two suck face somewhere else?” a random patron near them demands. “I’m trying to get a drink.”
Hitoshi opens his mouth to snap at the killjoy, but Shouta makes the first move, shoving the guy out of the way and swinging Hitoshi around so Shouta can press his boner against his back.
Shouta’s mind almost goes blank. Just the feel of Hitoshi’s ass, even through the fabric, is enough to drive him wild.
“Hitoshi,” Shouta says, wrapping his hands around Hitoshi’s hips, fingertips slipping beneath the hem of his dress. “Why don’t you order us another round?”
“Sure.” Hitoshi hails down the bartender, who approaches them, grinning.
“What can I get you?”
“Can we get two…” Hitoshi freezes suddenly. His body stiff as Shouta presses a wet finger into his ass. Shouta needs it. He fucking needs it. “Can we…can we get t-two…rum —ah— neat?”
“Sure,” the bartender says slowly as Hitoshi starts to dissolve. He glances at Shouta, who only smiles as he pumps his finger in and out of Hitoshi’s hole.
Make that two fingers.
“Preference on brand?” the bartender asks.
“Mmm,” Hitoshi whimpers, practically collapsing and face-planting on the counter, and the bartender gives Shouta another look. “B-Brand?”
Shouta shakes his head. “Anything from the well is fine.”
“Got it. Coming up.”
He waits for the bartender to pour them their drinks, fingers wet and relentless as he works Hitoshi open, before pulling his hand away and leaning close to Hitoshi’s ear. “You’re being too loud.”
“You know I’m not good at being quiet,” Hitoshi murmurs, still bent over the bar. “You’ve seen my stream. Besides, the music’s blar —oh fuuuck.”
Shouta clenches his jaw as he squeezes the tip of his cock into Hitoshi’s entrance. “How is this fuckhole still so tight after you fingered yourself so well?”
He pushes, carefully, until Hitoshi’s body starts to give in, skin stretching just wide enough to get him halfway, and suddenly the pleasure overtakes them both. Hitoshi braces himself on the bar as Shouta’s hips start moving on their own.
“Fuck not so fast not fast,” Hitoshi gasps, tongue lolling out as he grips the edge of the counter. “Wait wait—oh my god, keep going keep going.”
“You’re giving me mixed signals here.”
“Keep fucking going.”
Honestly, Shouta couldn’t stop if he tried. Every couple of seconds, Hitoshi’s body surrenders more and more, until Shouta’s rolling his hips to the rhythm of some disco song, slamming his cock into Hitoshi’s ass.
“Shit,” Shouta hisses because he can feel his orgasm coming and knows he should pull out, slow down, something, but Hitoshi’s clamping around his dick and refusing to let go, and that tight heat is too good anyway so—
Shouta finishes deep inside him and Hitoshi lets out a wet sob as he pulls out.
“Fuck,” Shouta breathes, still gripping Hitoshi’s hips. He can see a thin line of cum leaking out of him, trailing down his leg.
Maybe the 5,000 yen/month was worth it after all.
❧ · ❧· ❧· ❧
Hitoshi knows they ain't fooling no one. People have eyes. He can see them watching him get railed over a nasty bar top, face pressed against the wood. Drooling on a coaster, eyes rolled back, legs shaking. Hitoshi doesn't really care, his whole OF career is around exhibitionism.
And honestly who has time for discretion when he and Shouta are so fucking horny and desperate for each other? Hitoshi's finally getting the dicking of his life, better than any silicone cock or guys his age. This is it. Shouta's fat, throbbing cockhead stuffed deep inside him.
God. He's been dreaming about this, ever since he saw Shouta subscribed to his page.
Bot7382822838. Hitoshi cackled the first time he read it. Must be an obsessed fan, he initially thought because who would drop coin like that, like they have nothing else better to spend it on?
And then:
‘I just want to know what to call you.’
‘Sensei.’
Hitoshi almost creamed his pants. He can hear it, Aizawa’s voice, in the texts. He just fucking knew it was his former teacher and as soon as they met on video it was over.
"Shit," Shouta hisses, shoving his cock hard inside Hitoshi, pinning him to the bar.
Hitoshi sobs a wet kind of sound as Shouta's hot cum fills him so good, it makes his fucking toes curl, and as it leaks out of him all he can think is, ‘god I want this man to ruin me.'
"Fuck."
"Sensei," Hitoshi slurs, the word suddenly heavy as lead in his mouth. He grabs Shouta's shirt and Shouta pulls him up until they're nose-to-nose. "Let's dance."
Shouta opens his mouth, quickly doing up his jeans, but Hitoshi doesn't give him the chance to object.
He grabs his wrist and drags Shouta through the throng of drunks, to where the music's blaring the loudest and the lights are blinding, never mind that Shouta's semen is still dripping down Hitoshi's leg and onto the dancefloor.
There's barely room to move, basically nuts to butts (quite fucking literally) and Hitoshi would complain if it wasn't working to his benefit. The crowd's got his body flushed against Shouta's and he can already feel his sensei's dick twitching in his jeans.
"Hard already?" Hitoshi purrs, body rolling to a sexy bass riff as he wraps his arms around Shouta's neck.
"You think I'd be satisfied with one round?" Shouta murmurs in his ear, hands sliding down to Hitoshi's hips.
"I wasn't sure if your libido had gone to shit in your old age," Hitoshi teases and Shouta glares at him, giving his ass a nice warning squeeze before burying his face in Hitoshi's neck.
"You're never gonna stop harassing me, are you?"
Hitoshi smirks. "You make it too easy."
"I won't stop fucking you," Shouta's voice rumbles, thick with lust, and Hitoshi shudders. "I'll fuck you on every square inch of this club if I have to, fill you up so much that you'll be leaking for days."
Hitoshi's knees buckle at the promise. "That better not be a bluff."
"It's not."
Hitoshi groans because he fucking wants it, wants Shouta to split him open again and pound him so hard he can barely walk, ass numb and legs sore from the relentlessness. He wants Shouta to take what's always belonged to him.
"You're mine, Hitoshi."
Hitoshi whimpers as Shouta kisses the top of his shoulder before sinking his teeth in, forcing Hitoshi to roll his body forward. Shouta grunts, digging his nails into Hitoshi's hips and pulling him closer, rutting against him. Impatient and shameless and fueled by feral desire.
At one point the song changes to a gritty slow grind and Shouta spins Hitoshi around so he can rub his cock against his ass. Hitoshi loves the heat that shoots through him as Shouta humps him dry; the sweat on his lips when they kiss; the cum still spilling between his legs.
Shouta's hands slip beneath his dress as they make out, running along his thighs, swaying Hitoshi's hips to the music. He's not a bad dancer to Hitoshi's surprise, even if they are just grinding, Shouta at least knows how to touch him in ways that make his whole body shiver.
"Fuck."
Hitoshi grins as he guides one of Shouta's hands to his dick, just aching to be touched, and lets out a satisfied moan when Shouta starts stroking him beneath the fabric.
"This is dangerous," Shouta mutters, lips brushing Hitoshi's ear. "I'll fuck you right here."
"What's stopping you?" Hitoshi purrs, holding Shouta's arm in place.
"Decorum."
Hitoshi laughs at that. That is not a word he'd ever associate with his former teacher.
"Sensei," Hitoshi pleads. He looks up at him, batting eyelashes. "I wanna cum on your fingers. Make me cum."
Shouta cups Hitoshi's face with his free hand, swiping a thumb across his lips. "You're gonna make an even bigger mess all over this dancefloor."
"I don't care."
Shouta looks at him, drunk with desire. "Neither do I."
He kisses Hitoshi, hand still twisting around his cock.
Hitoshi can feel his knees weakening with every merciless stroke and he tries not to buck his hips too much, but fails.
"God fuck, keep doing it like that," Hitoshi moans as Shouta starts jerking him faster. "Holy fuck that's so good, sensei...you're gonna make cum."
"You really like that?"
"God, yes."
"Tell me it's mine," Shouta grumbles in his ear and Hitoshi writhes in his arms as his orgasm nears. "Tell me who this belongs to."
"Y-You," Hitoshi breathes, squeezing Shouta's arm. "It's yours. All of it is yours."
"Good. Now cum for me."
The pleasure is unbelievable. The music disappears for a hot minute and Hitoshi's mind goes completely blank as cum spills over his sensei's hand. Staining his dress. Dripping onto the floor. He almost slumps forward, legs giving out, but Shouta catches him before he collapses.
"Look," Shouta mutters, sliding his hand out to show Hitoshi how drenched his fingers are. "Look at the mess...you...made..."
His words trail off as he watches Hitoshi take his wrist and run his tongue over his knuckles, lapping his own cum off of Shouta's fingers.
"Fuck, Hitoshi..."
Hitoshi smiles, swallowing thickly, sucking his cum off each of Shouta's fingertips. He can feel Shouta getting even harder, his erection pressed against his ass, and Hitoshi wants it. He wants that cock buried inside him, as far as it can go.
"Sensei."
"You're driving me crazy." Shouta grabs Hitoshi's jaw and captures his mouth, sucking what's left of his orgasm off his lips. Hitoshi mewls as Shouta licks his mouth clean. "Let's go somewhere more private."
"Like where?"
"Restroom," Shouta says, dragging him through the crowd.
"Tell me what you want," Hitoshi says as soon as the crowds thin and they miraculously find a restroom void of people. "I'll do anything."
“Get on the counter.”
When Hitoshi hears Shouta’s voice go all low and husky and dangerous, he thinks this is what it must feel like when he uses brainwashing. One simple directive and his body surrenders to a guttural timbre that makes him shudder.
"Get your legs spread. As far apart as they go."
Fuck. It’s like a wet dream come true. Hitoshi doesn’t even realize he’s in position until he’s perched on top of the sink, legs spread wide, waiting for Aizwawa to finish checking the stalls. He even hikes his dress up to his midriff because he’s just fucking ready.
“Let me see more of that body,” Shouta says, walking over.
Hitoshi obliges to that request and strips the dress off completely so he’s in nothing but his fishnets and a pair of doc martens.
“Fuck,” Shouta whispers, closing the gap between them, hands running up and down Hitoshi’s legs. “You’re awfully compliant all of a sudden.”
Hitoshi snorts, but that’s all he does, too distracted by the bulge in Shouta’s jeans.
“What?” Shouta says, brushing their noses together. “No snappy comeback? No complaints? You just gonna sit here and open your legs up for me, just like that? Are you that desperate for my cock?”
“You like to hear yourself talk, don’t you?”
Shouta grabs a fistful of matted purple hair and yanks it back, forcing Hitoshi’s gaze up at him. “There you are. That’s much better.”
Before Hitoshi can respond with another smartass remark, Shouta shuts him up with kiss swollen lips and a tongue down his throat.
God, he’s greedy. Not that Hitoshi’s complaining, he loves seeing his former teacher forceful, possessive, and just insatiable. Licking his mouth and sucking every obscenity from Hitoshi’s lips, it makes Hitoshi hard as fuck.
“So perfect,” Shouta murmurs against his mouth.
Hitoshi groans as Shouta jerks his head back hard and far enough that all he can see is stars on the ceiling. Shouta trails kisses down Hitoshi’s chin and his neck before raising his dress to lick a long stripe up Hitoshi’s chest.
“Mmm, yes… sensei, please.”
That blessed, beautiful mouth ravages him and Hitoshi can’t help but gasp when it claims one of his nipples, licking and sucking a bruise over pale, sensitive skin.
“Ah!” Hitoshi squirms, fingers threading Shouta’s hair. Shouta bites and Hitoshi tugs his mentor's head back.
“Something wrong?”
Hitoshi glares. “Careful.”
“You’re fine,” Shouta drones, pulling Hitoshi’s hands away so that he can drag his mouth down his stomach.
“I’m sure my viewers won’t appreciate the marks,” Hitoshi pouts.
“Tell them a villain pinched you in the nip.”
Oh yeah, his fans would totally buy that. Not. “Or maybe you can just be a bit more —oh my god.”
That mouth, that mouth, is going to be the death of him. It’s on him, on Hitoshi’s hard, throbbing cock. Tongue wiping the precum off his cockhead before traveling down to give his balls the attention Hitoshi’s always craved for.
“Sen-sei.” Hitoshi’s voice comes out broken and pathetic, but it’s not his fault when Shouta’s face is pressed against the base of his cock, tenderly sucking on one of his balls. Hitoshi lets out an embarrassing moan, vision gone white, as Shouta tugs at it with his mouth.
“Oh my god, yesss,” Hitoshi chokes out, every chill up his spine making him lose all his motor skills. He feels his ass sliding off the edge of the sink and his legs being propped up by a pair of hands and Shouta kissing every inch of him. “Please, sensei, I—”
Hitoshi stops, the words caught in his throat, his body now a deep shade of red as Shouta buries his nose between his thighs. He can feel Shouta’s tongue worming its way into his hole and Hitoshi loses it, grabbing onto whatever’s in reach to keep himself tethered to reality.
“Oh fuck that feels so good,” Hitoshi snivels, gripping the faucet so hard he’s afraid he’s going to break it.
“Look how much I filled you up,” Shouta purrs, pushing a finger into his ass. He starts to thrust, over and over, until he can slide another finger in, draining out the rest of his cum from earlier. “Still pretty soaked.”
“Ah, fuck,” Hitoshi gasps, his body aching for Shouta’s cock. “Sensei, please. Please please please…”
“You want it?”
“Didn’t you hear me say please?”
Shouta chuckles. “How can I refuse when you’re so needy like this?”
To Hitoshi’s relief Shouta stands, positioning himself between his legs, gently rubbing his dick along his taint.
The hungry look in his mentor’s eyes is nothing he’s ever seen before and Hitoshi realizes in that moment that he wants to be the only cumbucket that Shouta will ever need for the rest of his ever fucking life.
“Sensei,” Hitoshi breathes, eyelids heavy. Hysteria taking over as he takes Shouta’s cock and guides it inside him.
“Jesus, Hitoshi—nghh,” Shouta grunts and slams the rest of his dick in, balls slapping against Hitoshi’s ass. They both groan in tandem as Shouta starts to fuck him. “Look at that ass opening up nice and wide for me. Feels so fucking good.”
“Harder, sensei,” Hitoshi begs, reaching for his own cock.
The pleasure is mind blowing and Hitoshi relishes every lewd expression on Shouta’s face. The way his brows furrow, the sweat-drenched hair in his eyes, the way his jaw slacks, slaver running from the corners of his mouth.
He drools onto Hitoshi’s cock and Hitoshi uses it to slick himself up as he strokes. The acoustics in the restroom are incredible, making the slapping sounds their bodies make even louder and soon they’re both moaning out loud, and whoever happens to hear them be damned.
“Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum,” Hitoshi groans, pumping his cock faster as Shouta runs a palm over his chest, pinching his nipple. Hitoshi’s loud when he cums, stroking himself faster until there’s nothing left.
“Turn around,” Shouta orders, giving Hitoshi’s legs a light tug before guiding him off the sink. He turns Hitoshi around until he’s bent over the counter, facing the mirror.
“Oh god, just like that,” Hitoshi cries out, back arched as Shouta lays his hands flat on the small of his back and starts fucking him from behind. “Harder. Fuck me, wreck me, sensei.”
Shouta’s louder than Hitoshi this time, his moans reverberating off the walls. Through the reflection, Hitoshi can see Shouta obsessing over the way their bodies fit together.
“Didn’t think you’d be this good of a hole, Hitoshi,” Shouta mumbles, giving Hitoshi’s ass a nice slap and Hitoshi yelps out in surprise. “Your body’s just yearning for me to fill you up again.”
He pounds into him harder and Hitoshi plants a sweaty hand on the glass to brace himself. “Oh—ugh—𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬—fuck, fuck….”
Hitoshi’s legs start to tremble. The noises he makes become a lot more unhinged and for a moment he wonders if he really sounds like that, if that really is his voice.
“God, look at you,” Shouta says, yanking Hitoshi’s hair back so that he can get a clear view of the both of them in the mirror. “I’ve never seen that face before, so honest. Is it that good? Does it feel that good?”
“It’s so good,” Hitoshi sobs. “Fuck, it’s so good, sensei—”
“Shouta,” Shouta grumbles, gripping his hips hard. “Call me Shouta.”
Hitoshi’s heart leaps to his throat. “Shouta, please. Fuck me, Shouta, fuck me. Harder, faster—”
“Hnng, I’m cumming,” Shouta says through gritted teeth.
“Oh god, you hear that?” a voice from behind the door says.
“I don’t give a fuck, I need to take a piss.”
Before Hitoshi can react, Shouta yanks him back and shoves him into the nearest stall, locking the door behind them.
“I’m not gonna walk in and—”
“Just don’t look, Jesus.”
Somewhere in the depths of Hitoshi’s mind he knows they should stop, but Shouta doesn’t relent and Hitoshi suddenly finds himself bent over the toilet, palms flat against the wall.
“Shouta—” Hitoshi breathes, glancing over his shoulder.
“I’m not through,” Shouta murmurs and plunges back inside him.
Hitoshi’s fingers curl against the plaster as Shouta picks up where he left off. Hitoshi bites his tongue down when he hears footsteps entering the bathroom but Shouta’s pounding him so hard, he can’t help but moan in response.
“Be quiet,” Shouta whispers.
“I can’t,” Hitoshi gasps, his ass going numb. “I ca—mnnn.”
Shouta slaps a hand over Hitoshi’s mouth, shoving a finger between his teeth for good measure, and Hitoshi can’t help but roll his eyes back and suck.
“I said keep it down,” Shouta mutters before humming in a low, dark voice. “God…fuck, suck on it, Hitoshi.”
“Hnnng,” Hitoshi mewls, tongue swirling around Shouta’s finger, catching it with his teeth and sucking. “Mmmm...”
“Goddamn, they’re really goin’ at it. Wish I could find me someone who can fuck me like that.”
“Hello? I am right HERE.”
The other guy laughs and as soon as their banter disappears back into the club, Shouta pulls out and Hitoshi whimpers, knees buckling from the loss.
“If you wanna suck on something so bad,” Shouta growls, turning Hitoshi around to face him, “then get on your knees.”
Hitoshi sinks to the ground on command, licking his lips, giving Shouta a smug smirk because, yeah. Not to toot his own horn, but blowjobs are his specialty and he’s wanted to suck that cock since the second he saw it.
But, apparently his mentor has other ideas and honestly Hitoshi ain’t all that mad about it, not when Shouta squeezes his jaw open, dragging his cock in circles around Hitoshi’s mouth before shoving himself in.
“Mrgghh,” Hitoshi gurgles, grabbing a hold of Shouta’s hips for support. His head is spinning and he doesn’t have the brain cells anymore to adjust, so he just lets Shouta’s throbbing cock sit in his throat until his eyes water.
“Unh, fuck,” Shouta says, sliding himself out and Hitoshi gasps, tongue hanging out. “How’d you do that? Don’t you have a gag reflex?” He grabs Hitoshi’s hair and pulls so that he can slap his cock against Hitoshi’s tongue. “I’m gonna fuck this throat dry. Any objections?”
Hitoshi doesn’t have a single one, but his agency will have opinions about it, given that he needs his voice for hero work.
Oh well.
“Not one.”
“Good.” Shouta guides his dick back into Hitoshi’s mouth, slower this time, and Hitoshi hollows his cheeks. Looks up and begs Shouta to ruin him.
“Hitoshi. Squeeze if I go too far.” Shouta finds one of his hands planted on his hips and interlaces their fingers, and Hitoshi can feel his ears getting warm, unsure of what to do with that kind of tenderness.
Luckily, Shouta distracts him with a succession of thrusts and suddenly Hitoshi’s mind is on something else.
Hitoshi loves it, loves this, loves all of it. Loves being used for Shouta’s pleasure, loves Shouta’s dick sliding across his tongue and hitting the back of his throat.
Each thrust knocks the wind out of him, but Hitoshi doesn’t care as long as he gets to hear the delicious noises Shouta makes.
“Gonna cum,” Shouta says, yanking himself out and stroking his cock over Hitoshi’s mouth. “Nice and wide. Tongue out.”
“Give it to me,” Hitoshi pleads, dropping his jaw. “Give me that cum.”
“Shitshitshit,” Shouta hisses, finishing on his face, using his cock to smear hot cum across Hitoshi’s lips. “Look at that, all over your gorgeous face.”
He leans over and kisses Hitoshi, tongues tangled to swipe a taste. Hitoshi’s blitzed and fucking exhausted, but he kisses back with everything he has.
When they break apart, Hitoshi tries to get up and is only able to with Shouta’s help. “I can barely move.”
“I’m not done.”
Hitoshi’s eyes widen as Shouta pins him against a stall wall. “But, wait—”
“I said I’m not through,” Shouta says, palming Hitoshi’s growing erection. “I can feel your body, I know you want it.”
“Fuck, I do,” Hitoshi breathes but he’s not sure how much he has left in him. “I want it, I just…won’t be much help.”
“That’s fine,” Shouta says, slipping his hands below Hitoshi’s hips and lifting him up. Hitoshi hangs onto him, arms around his neck, legs wrapped around his waist. “Just be my warm little cocksleeve tonight and I’ll do all the work.”
Hitoshi chuckles silently. “And tomorrow?”
“And tomorrow”—Shouta buries his nose in Hitoshi’s neck—“I’ll make love to you however you want.”
Hitoshi blushes. “You sure know how to woo a guy.”
Shouta snorts. “I either throw money at you or fuck you stupid, it really doesn’t take much.”
“Oh my god, you are such a dick.”
Shouta presses their foreheads together and smiles. “You love it.”
Hitoshi can’t help but smile back, his own words thrown at his face. "I do.”