ʙᴏᴛᴛᴏᴍ ᴛᴏᴅᴏʀᴏᴋɪ ᴏɴᴇꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ

𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙎𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣

ᴋɪʀɪᴛᴏᴅᴏ
𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚 𝐱 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢
ꜱᴍᴜᴛ
𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐒𝐞𝐱

𝘌𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺!
______________________________________

"Gotcha!!"

Eijirou howls triumphantly as their bodies crash against the floor of the training grounds, hardened knees making a solid impact, along with Shouto's back. Eijirou's got Shouto's hands trapped in his claws, pinned hard to the ground above his head, and he leans forward, grinning widely as he basks in his victory over his powerful classmate.

Shouto pants for breath beneath him, meeting Eijirou's excited face with incredulous eyes. He'd slipped up, hesitated for a moment just long enough for Eijirou to get in close and quite literally sweep him off his feet.

As if he hasn't been doing that very thing for the last three years.

Shouto can't explain where the emotions came from, or when they'd started. But somewhere along the line, his feelings for Eijirou had evolved. First from indifference, to respect, to friends... Now, Shouto isn't sure what to call it, but one thing is for sure. These feelings far exceed that of an ordinary friendship.

After all, he's never exactly woken himself up crying out Izuku or Tenya's names as cum soaks through his boxers.

Thinking about that might not be the smartest idea right now though, what with the subject of those late night dreams straddling his hips and hovering above him, panting and dripping sweat and grinning at him like that—

"Oh fuck me." Shouto huffs breathlessly beneath him, feeling his cock stirring beneath the heat of Eijirou's body.

"Okay."

.........

"What?"

"What?"

They stare at each other now, one part shock and the other part horror. Eijirou freezes on top of him, staring wide-eyed at him as heat flushes his face a pretty pink, teeth catching his bottom lip as he fumbles for an explanation.

"I-I just mean— I wasn't saying—"

Shouto doesn't even really listen to Eijirou's floundering; it's hard to listen actually, with his own heart beating like a furious drum in his ears.

"Kirishima..." Shouto calls his attention, leaning up as much as he can while he's pinned. Their faces are inches apart now, and Shouto doesn't quite know where this surge of boldness has come from, but he's not about to question it now, not when he's so close to possibly getting what his body's been craving for so long.

"Do you want to fuck me?"

Eijirou's breath whooshes out of his lungs like he's been punched, with the fastest, most eager rush of words. It's a miracle he can get it out with stumbling over his own tongue.

"Yes, please—"

Their lips crash together in a blaze of heat and need, Eijirou groaning raggedly as the taste of Shouto's mouth floods his senses. His grip goes slack on Shouto's hands, quirk fading away as he reaches down to cradle Shouto's face and neck. Taking advantage of his newfound freedom, Shouto grasps at Eijirou's sides, digging his fingers into the charred bits of his U.A. tracksuit to yank him closer.

Shouto can taste the salty sweat from Eijirou's skin, teeth snatching the redhead's bottom lip and tugging just to hear him groan that way again. The sounds he makes send liquid heat coursing through his body, blood rushing south to fill his cock.

It takes a bit of maneuvering, and a little bit of claw when their clothes don't seem to wanna come off fast enough, but Eijirou settles between Shouto's spread thighs and pumps two spit-slick fingers inside Shouto's hole. All the while, he leaves a trail of hickeys across pale skin that are already flushing deep shades of red and purple, leading down to where he's currently carving the indents of his sharp teeth around Shouto's hard nipple.