Saltwater

𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙞𝙩𝙮 (𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙖'𝙨 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢)

— " 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙞𝙩𝙮'𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙧 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮, 𝙞'𝙢 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣 "

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It's different, but a good different. He just...hasn't gotten used to it yet. It wasn't abrupt, (well, it kind of was,) but the only difference is the cuddling, the teasing, and their (his) smoke nights were absent of a tension he hadn't even noticed was there and was replaced with a new one, or maybe it just felt different now that he was aware of it.

Most nights it was 'wow I can't believe he's with me', and on others, he usually convinced himself that he'd gone comatose during their disastrous first year and his mind was just having a field day.

"Do I have something on my face?" Shouto asks.

Hanta snaps out of his daze and shakes his head. "No, why?"

Shouto tilts his head, allowing a few strands of his hair to escape the hair clip placed on his head. "Then what are you looking at me like that for?"

"Ah," he says, face blaring, "I'm just admiring my boyfriend who's way out of my league, is that so wrong?" Hanta grins, crawling closer and draping his arms over Shouto's shoulders.

Shouto dropped the manga in his hands in favor of maneuvering the rest of Hanta's lower body. They were sitting on the floor against the framing of Hanta's bed, a blunt rolled and steadily burning between Hanta's fingers.

They kissed, as they had many times over the past week, this one being slow and languid. "What happened to that fire in you at your place, huh?" Hanta teased, smiling against Shouto's lips.

"I don't want to," lose you, he starts to say, but "overwhelm you," is what Shouto says instead, a gentle and hesitant look on his face that looks like it could be a smile if he'd let it.

Hanta waved the blunt and took another pull. "See? Perfectly whelmed," the smoke lolled out of his mouth and nose lazily as he smiled. He had his piercings in since it was Friday. All seven of them. Two in each ear, three across his bottom lip (two hoops, one stud), and one under his tongue.

Shouto pulled on Hanta's lower lip with his thumb, the rest of the smoke rolling over his teeth. "Whelmed or greedy?"

Hanta shrugged with false nonchalance, meaning does it matter, and it translates well enough seeing as Shouto kissed him. He kissed like he went about life — nonchalantly. As if it was just another thing that was to be done in your average working day. Or maybe, naturally would be a better connotation? Whatever it was, it was hot and suited him well. Hanta's unoccupied hand made to tangle itself in Shouto's hair at the base of his neck.

Shouto pulled back, face tinged red and hands at Hanta's hips. He dropped his head, feeling his face growing hotter, and caved to his biological need to blow steam. So embarrassing, he thought to himself and having a hard time meeting Hanta's gaze.

"Did I...accidentally shotgun you?" Hanta asked. Shouto almost adopted that assumption until: "Oh fuck, Shou, I'm sorry! I thought I exhaled everything, or...whatever," Hanta babbled, taking Shouto's face into his hands.

Shouto sighed defeatedly and shook his head. "No, I...do that...sometimes," he murmured, making flighty bouts of eye contact. Hanta laughed and there was more steam. "It regulates my temperature, like a fan in a computer,"

"That's adorable," he leaned down and kissed his forehead.

"It's embarrassing,"

Hanta smiled. "As the prophecy foretold,"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Not sure," Hanta hummed, and dove for another kiss. He would like to say his style of kiss suited him, but according to most reactions, he's inclined to assume the contrary.

Shouto can vouch. Hanta's kiss was natural and fluid and oozed with confidence. It was the embodiment of the "do you trust me" scene in Aladdin. An outstretched hand and a charming smile rolled into a kiss. Being on the receiving end was like expecting the unexpected. Shouto inched his hand up, slipping underneath Hanta's shirt and he responded naturally; a soft moan and arching against him. Like whatever divinity in existence intended.

Hanta's hands fell from either side of Shouto's face and one to brace himself against Shouto's shoulder, the other against the mattress of the bed. "Shou," he breathed. Shouto answered with a hum and moved down to Hanta's neck. "Shou," Hanta rocked his hips and whined with his head thrown back.

Shouto gasped at the friction and wrapped his hand in the back of Hanta's nape, pulling him into another kiss. His tongue ran over the piercings, warm now due to their extended contact with body heat, but irrationally hot all the same. Shouto used his hold on Hanta to cradle his body to his own and lay on the floor.

"Off," Hanta muttered, tugging on Shouto's sweater. His hand lingered at the base of his neck pensively when he sat up. "Later — off," Hanta whined, attempting to sit up and pull the sweater off his damn self, only stopped by Shouto's arm and hand that gently squeezed.

Shouto smirked, a rare occurrence, and reached behind his head to fulfill his boyfriend's request. He playfully tossed the sweater in Hanta's face.

He laughed and pulled the top to only show his eyes. Hanta took a moment to be cheesy and admire his boyfriend. His hair, which he'd taken a liking to slicking back, was down in a wavy pattern, his scar darkened by the slightest of shades, and a rose beaded bracelet given to him by Momo just because she was out and thought of him when she saw it. His train of thought was interrupted by Shouto flicking the sweater away and driving for another kiss.

The floor was cold and that detail was brought to Hanta's attention when Shouto hiked his oversized dri-fit shirt up to his chest. "Lovely, it's cold," Hanta muttered softly against the — cough — fire weilder's cheek bone. He missed his rug.

"I'm currently in the process of warming you up, Han," he responded into Hanta's throat, where he left spots of red among purple hickeys.

Hanta whined, sitting up anyways to allow the removal of his shirt and lifting his hips for Shouto too shove his sweats to his knees. "Speed it up,"

"Hush," Shouto said, but complied nonetheless, sticking three fingers into Hanta's mouth to keep him occupied and reached into one of the drawers in front of him and fumbled around for the lube. Hanta's eyes fluttered closed as Shouto pushed one saliva and lube slicked finger into him and sighed, Shouto's index finger followed shortly after.

Hanta yelped when Shouto lifted his hips for a better angle, squirming a bit to test the give. It wasn't much. He yelped again at the pinch to his side. "Stop moving — behave,"

"Aye," he giggled, hooking one arm over the back of Shouto's neck, the other bracing against the floorboards at his head.

"Look at me, Hanta," a difficult task when your name rolls off the tongue like that, but the implied promise of more was a sure motivator. So he did. Steam was steadily streaming out of Shouto's nose and mouth. "Good, just like this. Keep your eyes on me," and resumed his previous movements, this time adding another finger. Thrusts faster, harder, and more precise than before.

"Now," he commanded. "Do it, come now. Come for me," and he did with a choked-off sob. Shouto's hand slowed to a stop to admire the mess painted on Hanta's abdomen. Shouto's head dipped to lick up the spend and kiss his still panting boyfriend. Oh so graciously giving up a taste.

He would take anything Shouto would give him, whether it be a daisy or a time bomb. This much was nothing. "Can you give me one more?"

"I could give you three," he said, breathing still heavy. "I can take it — I'll take anything," if it's you went unsaid, but hopefully the sentiment was there.

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a/n: first attempt at smut pls let me live 🙇🏽