[One breathless word is all Toshinori needs, surging against him when he's kissed, hungry and reckless. He locks his other arm around Aizawa's waist and rocks his hips up against him, just barely enough contact to keep him sated while he works him over with his fingers.
It's still through his goddamn underwear, though, and that's hot until he thinks about the skin he's not touching, how it's practically a searing touch when his hand brushes against Aizawa's stomach or his leg-- fuck, he wants more, stroking him faster to at least hear him again if he can't touch him more than this.]
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It's still through his goddamn underwear, though, and that's hot until he thinks about the skin he's not touching, how it's practically a searing touch when his hand brushes against Aizawa's stomach or his leg-- fuck, he wants more, stroking him faster to at least hear him again if he can't touch him more than this.]
Shouta, talk to me--
["Talk" is relative.]