Hands shaking, he took in the clothes spread out in the closet and breathed in the smell of you- like cheap shampoo and a smell that was distinctly you, like a crackling bonfire. He clutched his shivering hands to his chest to still them, heart thumping with anxiety and excitement. Taking in a deep, shaky breath, he reached out and felt one of the hoodies near the back. It was soft and well loved, like most of your hoodies, and it smelled like you. Carefully, he unhooked it and clutched it to his chest. He sighed with relief at his success and turned to leave, only for his heart to stop at the sound of your voice from the hall. Unthinkingly, he pulled the closet doors shut and sat down on the floor. Scorching back, he thanked whatever god there was that the dorm's closet was big enough to fit him comfortably. Fuck. You weren't supposed to be back until midnight, or at least that's what he had heard from the 1-A girls. You were supposed to be chaperoning their group outing. He held his breath as he heard your door open and close.
"Totally! Ugh, yeah," he glanced towards you through the slats in the closet, and noticed with relief that you were on the phone, with your back turned to him. You pulled off your leather jacket as you nodded, even though the person on the other end of the line couldn't see you. A rush of affection flooded into his system, even despite his fear. "I know! He sounds like total trash. I got stood up the other day, too." Tamaki felt relief, relief and guilt (a spike of rampant jealousy that he stomped out quickly). He was glad you weren't seeing anyone, but seeing you hurt was painful. Relaxing back into the closet, he watched you as you continued your conversation, humming and interjecting occasionally. The way you moved was calming to him- the way you went about your life. You dropped off your messenger bag and shoes next to the door, and padded over to your nightstand in stocking clad feet. "Alright, well have a good night, Momo; you girls stay safe out there. I'm honestly baffled you managed to convince Aizawa to chaperone instead," you let out a heart racing laugh, before humming and hanging up. Depositing your phone on your nightstand, you exchanged it for an elastic hairband. He took in your practised movement as you pulled your hair back, a few locks escaping. Smiling, he buried his face in your hoodie. You were so adorable. He froze as he glanced back up, heart nearly stopping.
He watched, anxiety rising as you unbuttoned your shirt and let it drop to the ground. Guilt shoved it's way into his heart as heat pulled at his navel. Your skin looked so soft and nice- he couldn't help but let his eyes dart from the line of your neck to your collarbone and down your exposed torso. Fuck. Fuck. He bit onto your hoodie as you shimmied out of your dark jeans, exposing your thigh high stockings and form fitting briefs. You dropped gracefully onto your slick comforter and fluffy, soft blankets, stretching out languidly to grab your phone. His eyes traveled across your exposed skin as you turned on your spotify playlist, filling the room with your own curated tastes. Your lights dipped out as you flicked the switch next to your bed, leaving the room bathed in the purple colored lights of your LED strings and fairy lights. You looked practically ethereal, bathed in purple light and played out so perfectly on your bed. His erection throbbed painfully as you stretched out again, opening your nightstand's drawer. You pulled out something long and dark from the depths and shut it again. You pressed some buttons and he watched in fascination as it started vibrating in a pulsing motion. It was only when you started pressing it against yourself that he realized what it was. Eyes widening, he bit down harder on your hoodie, filling his sense of smell with your scent. Oh no. He hadn't meant to see this- to perve on you like this. Fuck, he was so stupid.
You moved with practised ease, slowly building up speed as you maneuvered the wand. He could see you were biting your bottom lip, closing your eyes, as if you were struggling to stay silent. Your hips bucked and you let out a quiet, strangled moan. Oh god. He couldn't- you sounded so perfect, quietly moaning as you fucked yourself. Quietly, he unbuttoned his jeans, releasing his aroused dick from its confines. Pulling it from his boxers, he fell into quick, practiced motions. He stroked himself as he watched your back arch at your own touch. Oh god, he was so gross. He was a pervert. He could hear you saying it now, as you scoffed and leaned a foot on his chest. You would straddle his waist as he jacked off, gripping his chin harshly, and call him a fucking disgusting brat. The thought of it turned him on like nothing else- he winced in embarrassment, face red and hot. You let out a moan and he stroked himself at a feverish pace. Fuck, fuck. Head tilted back, he tried to muffle his cries as white hot pleasure struck his nerve endings. He could feel it gush into his hand and onto the hardwood floor. He realized too late that he had made a sound- when the closet door opened to reveal your shocked, fearful face.
