My Hero Academia Smut

Sero x denki

The Way You Like It
By pockyhucks on AO3

Hanta tries so, so hard to think the best of Denki.

It's not something he has to... like... try at, considering his boyfriend is funny, and sweet, and so hot that sometimes just looking at him makes Hanta's head spin. It's not a purposeful thing either, Denki is just naturally, almost maliciously sexy.

Which, uh, is also kind of where most of Hanta's problems lay, because he's not sure that Denki knows it.

"Slower," Denki whispers, pulling back from their kiss just long enough to catch his breath. He's panting and ruffled, squirming in Hanta's lap on his couch as he blushes an adorable pink.

"Why?" Hanta purrs, and flexes the hands high on Denki's waist. "You too hot 'n bothered to think straight?"

Denki pouts, and squirms again, grinding unintentionally against Hanta's very attentive, and previously untouched hardon. Denki yelps, like it's a surprise that climbing into Hanta's lap and kissing him long and soft was going to lead to any other kind of reaction.

That's something Hanta never really expected, that Denki likes when he can slow all their interactions down to a near halt, a direct contrast to the way he does everything else, hard and fast and loud.

Which also relates slightly back to Hanta's problems. Er, problem. Which is that Denki wants to take things slow enough that they still haven't had sex.

You're my first, Denki had said, a few days after he'd finally gotten the balls to ask Hanta out, half stuttered over one of their impromptu midnight phone calls.

Hanta had tilted his head to the side. First what?

A shrug, a duck of his eyes. Everything, I guess.

"Hanta," Denki whines, and smacks his palms gently on Hanta's cheeks. "Just go a little slower, okay? It's better like that."

"Not like this?" Hanta coos, and slides his hands higher up Denki's waist, lifting the edge of his shirt up to bare skin. He watches Denki's eyelashes flutter, his breath squeezing past his teeth in a quiet whimper. "Or this?" he murmurs, leans in, presses a featherlight kiss to the underside of Denki's jaw.

"Nnnhh, that is slow," Denki mumbles, his head tipping back as Hanta kisses across his jaw, down his neck, tracing Denki's pulse-beat with his lips. He gets a gasp when Hanta's teeth graze his skin, and another light smack to both of his cheeks. "And that isn't!" Denki squawks, and leans back in Hanta's hold, sliding further back on his thighs.

Hanta can feel a grin curling onto his face, breaking wider as Denki's pout sets on his kiss swollen lips. He keeps his distance with a huff, fingers linking behind Hanta's neck. "Okay," Hanta acquiesces, leaning up to press a kiss to the upturn of Denki's nose. "I'll go slower, baby."

Denki shivers—sensitive, everywhere, to everything, especially Hanta's voice—and leans back in again, turning time into gooey syrup, dripping into Hanta's mouth at the first slow slide of Denki's tongue. He yanks Denki closer by the hips, delighting in the half giggle, half moan it startles past Denki's throat.

As far as Denki is concerned, this is safe territory. The kissing, the touching, the slight shift to his hips. He's nervous, Hanta gets that, and he really doesn't mind the change of pace from his previous relationships. After all, Denki still lets him sit between his knees to mouth over his cock until he's a flushed, whining mess. Sometimes he grinds off on the muscle of Hanta's thighs, and admits, embarrassed, that he's got to go clean up, like Hanta wouldn't be happy to do the tidying for him.

But Hanta's never been inside of him, save for his fingers, his tongue on one memorable occasion. Denki gets flighty about it, always eyeing Hanta's cock with a wary, scrutinizing eye, like he's contemplating what it would be like for Hanta to just flip him over, feed him his cock by torturous inches.