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[Ah, Aizawa can look at him like that as long as he wants, but finally getting rid of that last piece of clothing is also pretty good. Toshinori follows the movement of his hands pretty blatantly-- sure, he had a hand between his legs, but he didn't get to see...

And if the eyebrow wiggle he gives him is any indication, he's pretty pleased. 10/10, nice dick, babe. Now then, he ducks down to kiss him sweetly before casually climbing over him off the bed, and yes, sliding his arms under Aizawa's knees and shoulders to whisk him away to the bathroom.

It's a short walk, but he's as ridiculous as possible trying to kiss him and not bump into furniture the whole way. Aizawa is already familiar with his bathroom, lovely isn't it... Here's a new twist: Toshinori shifting to reach into the shower and turn on the water without even putting him down. It's not exactly carrying him with just one arm, but it's pretty close. Reminder that he is super jacked, like it was necessary.]

[He's pretty muscled himself, but he's nothing compared to Toshinori. Frankly, it's ridiculous how strong his boyfriend (his boyfriend!) is.

The trip to the shower had been one thing (thrilling, new, delightful, he'll never admit that he enjoyed it but he most certainly did), but Aizawa tenses when he releases him to turn on the shower. Surely he's going to drop him-- but no, apparently he can all but carry him with one arm. Apparently that's a thing he can do, and it's more of a turn-on than Aizawa would have expected. He makes a noise against his mouth, startled and pleased, and gasps as he pulls back to breathe.]

--god.

[He dives back in immediately, his kisses a little more frantic. They're sloppy things, barely landing, but it doesn't matter, not really. He wants his mouth on every inch of Toshinori.

But this would be even better if they were both soaking wet. He squirms again, twisting in his arms.]

Let go.

[They can't bang if he's being carried? Or, well. They probably can, Aizawa considers, and likely will, but still. At least part of this ought to be with both his feet on the ground.]

[They certainly can bang with Toshinori holding him up, and only with minimal extra effort, and Toshinori kind of wants to carry him around all the time just because he can, because Aizawa is six feet tall and nothing to scoff at but he's still the perfect carrying size for Toshinori— but okay, okay. He'll put him down this time.

After a few more kisses, grinning through most of them, hunching over to keep his mouth against Aizawa's even as he sets him down on the floor. The water is heating up, and it can do that at its own pace while Toshinori steals half a dozen more kisses, arm wrapping around Aizawa's waist to slide one hand snugly over his ass.

—But the shower, right. He nudges Aizawa to get in there first with a little ass pat, holding up a finger to just wait a second, just one... second...

He has to take off his fucking socks. Hang on. Those are brand name.]

[The whiplash of the look Aizawa had been giving him before-- lustful, affectionate, eager, clearly ready to yank Toshinori in close and pin him to the wall-- and the look he's giving him now-- disgusted, horrified, perturbed-- is breathtaking. With a pointed sigh he steps into the shower, stepping beneath the water-- and then, feeling as though that isn't enough, yanks at the curtain, closing it entirely.

So rude. But brand name socks that he kept on during sex is honestly worthy of being rebuffed, however briefly. And it gives Aizawa enough time to wash off sweat and come and get his hair wet, so it works out.]

[Okay, this is unfair!! This is Toshinori's shower! He makes a noise, indignant as he pulls off his second goddamn sock, and fumbles for the edge of the shower curtain.]

Shouta! [Does he pop his head through like a sexy horror movie? Yes. Hi, babe.] You didn't say anything earlier.

[In defense... of his socks - no one raised any complaints.]

I didn't know I had to. I would have thought you, like me, like any sane person, would have at some point taken off their socks before fucking their boyfriend for the first time.

[Technically, they haven't fucked, but whatever.

Still, he stares unimpressed at Toshinori. Earn your way into the shower, babe.]

[Baby, don't be like this... Toshinori wiggles an arm into the shower, reaching for him, wanting to tug him over and smooch his way into this shower.]

My-- [My Feet Get Cold, he's about to say, but maybe start with the second reason,] My hot boyfriend distracted me! Shouta! Come on!

[Resist this face!!]

[He literally can't help but stumble over, but it's worth it. Before Toshinori can try and convince him with kisses, he ducks in, fingers wrapping tight around the back of Toshinori's neck, keeping him in place as he slots their mouths together.

It's a rough kiss, firmer and hotter than before, ending with a harsh bite to his bottom lip. He'd had fun letting Toshinori take the lead before, but now he's craving a different kind of fun.

Or, well. Perhaps two different kinds. He wants to dominate, yes, completely and totally, and he has a feeling Toshinori wants that as well. But he also wants them to fight at some point, to see how well they can compete against each other, Toshinori's raw strength and Aizawa's cleverness . . . maybe they ought to just spar, and go from there.

God. He can't imagine how fun sparring with Toshinori would be. Getting to best him, being bested by him, pinning him to the ground and watching him be forced to submit . . . god.

He's panting as he breaks off the kiss, his mouth wonderfully sore.]

Come here already.

[Aizawa stumbles but it's Toshinori who's surprised, a delighted-yet-startled kind of hum escaping him when Aizawa bites his lip. Oh, yes, that's very good, he's definitely into that, leaning eagerly into his mouth with another insistent tug. A spar would be all well and good, sure, but right now he's excited enough to be commanded into a complete switch. Here and now, Aizawa can tell him exactly where he wants him, sure--

Just like that, leaving him breathless and flushed, and Toshinori tugs the curtain open properly to join him in the shower without any more dumb banter about his stupid socks. He takes a second to slick his hair back, keep it out of the way- sorry if that's too All Might, but it is what it is- before his hands are on Aizawa again, skimming over each and every muscle on the way to his hips and settling there.

He gives them a nice little squeeze. Hi.]

Want me to pick you up again?

Hmm . . . soon.

[Yes. Very much so, but first he wants to do this, which is turn them both, pushing Toshinori up against the bathroom wall. He lands with a satisfying thud, hot skin against cold tile, and Aizawa settles his hands on his shoulders, pushing lightly in order to keep him there. It's more so he can say he did it than because he has any real concrete plans here, but--]

I want you to fuck my mouth.

[An idle thought, his tone almost comically speculative. His hands slide down, dragging over pectorals, over his shoulders, against the bulge of his arms, feeling up every bit of him languidly. Mine, and his neck is still covered in dark bruises that all but sing he belongs to Toshinori, but it's a possessiveness that runs both ways.]

At some point. And . . . I want you to put your mouth on me. I want to see you on your knees.

[Make no mistake: he's still flushed. It's not exactly easy to say all this. But there's determination in his gaze as well, because he does want all that.]

But mostly, right now, what I really want is for you to fuck me. Can you?

[It might be a real question, but it most certainly comes out like a challenge. He leans his weight forward, grinning faintly. Yes, poor Toshinori had just come a little while ago, but what's being in your early twenties for if not amazing stamina?]

[Toshinori offers no resistance whatsoever, captivated as he is by Aizawa taking control. He's hardly pinning him to the wall-- that'd be nice, very nice even, but he's only conversationally bringing up fucking his mouth while his hands rove over Toshinori's body and fuck, if that isn't somehow even hotter. Even flushed and clearly at least a little out of his element still, Aizawa's, ah... drive to get what he wants still does it for Toshinori.

He's just gotten off, true, but hot hands on his skin and Aizawa looking up at him hungrily are more than enough to make up for the - couple minutes between then and now.]

I'll remember the rest for later, [he mumbles, cupping Aizawa's face in both hands to tilt his head back and kiss him hard, messy and claiming. All his, and with the bruises and desire for more to prove it; Toshinori wants him breathless and begging, see if he can't turn him from demanding to pleading by the time he's through--]

You should be up against the wall-- [And he will be shortly, maybe after a break to rummage unromantically through his medicine cabinet for literally anything lubricating, considering-- and that will have to wait for Toshinori to slide his hand down Aizawa's side and then inward, palming against him.]

Okay?

[Okay, can he do that one, boss? Toshinori kisses him again, gripping him harder and pushing off the wall to spin them around.]

[He doesn't have the breath or the wherewithal to pull back enough to answer in the affirmative. The way he surges up and lifts a leg to hook around Toshinori's hip ought to do the trick; if not that, the way he bucks his hips forward, thrusting shamelessly into that tight grip. Yes, oh, yes, that's okay, that's perfectly fine, his hands running over slick skin, against his shoulders, one hand raking through his hair so he can be sure to keep him pressed close.

The shower wall is cold, icy tile sending a shiver up his back, and he presses forward, straining against the grip Toshinori has on him in order to stay flush against him. Breaking for breath, he dives back in, biting at his bottom lip-- and then lower, his jaw, his neck, eager to see if he can leave a few dark marks of his own.]

You've--

[There, just a little too high, because it's one thing for anyone to see his bruises, but he'd be satisfied if All Might had to answer a few awkward questions of his own.]

--d-done this before. Yes?

[It's not a request for assurance. Just a question, as he thrusts his hips forward again.]

[Ah, perfect-- Aizawa surges up against him and Toshinori is there to meet him, free arm hooking low to just go right ahead and lift him up again, pinning him against the wall so his hand is free to squeeze his hip and thigh and ass, hungry for every inch of skin he can get to.

Teeth against his neck make him groan already, tipping his head encouragingly, not caring at all about how visible those marks are. He'll tie his cape a little higher when he does his patrols for the next few days, who cares, the only thing that matters to him right now is being pressed against Aizawa and wrapping long fingers around his cock. Much better without the boxers in the way, for sure--]

Mmhmm, [is his eloquent response. He tilts his head to nip at the shell of Aizawa's ear, the only skin he can reach with his mouth at the moment. For a moment he lets go of his hip, leaving him suspended pretty much entirely by Toshinori's hips as he reaches up to push wet hair out of his way and press his mouth just below his ear, working at leaving another bruise there for the morning.]

T-then--

[He'd had a retort, but then Toshinori just lets him go and Aizawa has to worry about falling. Which he doesn't, not a bit, not wedged up against the wall as he is, but it's still a giddying feeling. Everything about this is giddying; he tips his head up, giving Toshinori as much room as he needs, rolling his hips forward in needy little motions as if that might help things any.]

Then you're going to have to teach me. Think you're up to it?

[That's most definitely a taunt, as he squeezes his legs tight around Toshinori's hips and thrusts forward again. More.]

Mmhmm, [he hums again, more enthusiastically, pressing his tongue against his latest mark on Aizawa's neck. Yes, hell yes, he'll teach him everything he knows -- which is probably less than Aizawa thinks, but still more than nothing, so it's quite good enough. He hooks his arm securely around Aizawa's waist again to pull them flush together, turning; Aizawa has to be pinned to a different wall for him to reach his medicine cabinet, which he fumbles with blindly until he finds what he's looking for. Lesson one: lube.

Lube in a minute or so-- he fumbles around again to put the bottle in a cute and All Might brand shower caddy, then squeezes both of Aizawa's hips to grind against him.]

Are you up to it?

[Lube right now, why is it being pushed aside-- oh, and that's why, and that grinding is fantastic, it makes sparks shoot behind his eyes, but still. No matter how good Toshinori grinding up against him is (and it's good, it's very good, his cock throbbing and hard, sliding slickly against him and leaving him whining softly), he wants to keep going.

Because it hasn't been all that long, but it's been long enough. He's had more than enough time to imagine how it would feel to have Toshinori sinking deep into him, stretching him open and making him gasp from how good it felt. He's imagined how he would look, staring at him with those pretty blue eyes, hot and hungrily watching him, drinking in his every reaction-- and then when he started moving . . .

So stop teasing.]

Of course I am.

[He frowns as he says it, squirming pointedly.]

I'm more than ready for it, Toshinori, come on--

[Little does Aizawa know, his impatient reactions just extend the amount of time Toshinori will keep teasing him... He can't resist; the anticipation of pushsing inside him, hot and tight and making him dizzy with pleasure makes his cock twitch, pressed against Aizawa's hip, and he grinds again a little more languidly to keep himself from going off the deep end. He'd never live it down if he just rutted against him like this until he finished, but that much desperation would be hot enough, Aizawa's voice in his ear begging him to fill him up instead--

Another day. Another one for the list, which he might honestly write down and pin somewhere just to watch Aizawa's face turn purple with embarrassment.]

I don't know, [he says, puncutated by another slow roll of his hips, shuddering; it's taunting himself as much as it is Aizawa, but it's part of the presentation, or--something. It's worth it, he swears. Another blind grope, letting go of Aizawa to keep him pinned to the wall again; one hand firm on his cock and the other picking up the lube that he put down for a whole thirty seconds, like a fucking fool. Okay.

He taps the cap on Aizawa's cheek. Hi. Here.] Give me a hand?

[Then he'll give him that dick, a fair trade.]

[He's flushed and shaking, his hips inching up to work against each teasing grind of Toshinori's hips. But he still manages a slight scowl as that lube taps his cheek, a little less fearsome and a little more petulant. Toshinori, though he'd ducked his head down to hide his face against the crook of his neck as he rutted against him again. He can't stand this for much longer (although oh, oh, it would be awful-terrible awful-wonderful if Toshinori worked him up and up until he was so desperate he'd do just about anything to be fucked, til he was whimpering and begging and those arrogant blue eyes were locked on him--).]

You can save a burning school, but you can't manage a bottle of lube on your own, hero?

[Not to say he isn't busy pouring a frankly enormous amount on his fingers (he's seen his dick, he wants all the preparation he can get and then some) (he has never done this and Toshinori is his first, god have mercy on him, he's going to have to spend all evening recuperating, or so he damn well hopes, because what's the point of fucking a superhero if not getting wrecked?).]

Go on.

You aren't burning.

[Well, in a metaphorical sense, he is a bit-- flushed and hot and aching for Toshinori, and that's good, oh, it's incredible to have Aizawa like this, dizzying to think about the things he could have him say or do just to be fucked, even more dizzying to remind himself that he will fuck him within the next minute. He doesn't fool around any longer with the lube, dragging slick fingers over his cock with a groan and a twitch of his hips as he tries fervently not to grind against Aizawa until he finishes on his stomach, no, no--]

Don't get too excited, alright?

[Somehow he manages to say it with a winning smile, like he's not about to go to pieces in an instant. He switches hands with truly Heroic alacrity, gripping Aizawa's ass hard with one to hold him steady and nudging him to look up so he can drag his thumb over his lips with an insistent press. Suck on his fingers, thanks, but also,] Don't bite down, either.

[Because a (comparatively) small (mostly) virgin going up against his dick for the first time might be in for more than he bargained for, and he needs his fingers uninjured. That's all the verbal warning he gives, though, before lining up his hips and sliding into him slowly, for both their sakes.

Fuck. Fuck shit fuck, he can see stars, eyes hungry and bright and locked on Aizawa, waiting—]

[Why, he has time to think, why the hell would I bite, because yes, he's going to be fucked, but he's also not an idiot. Fingers in his mouth, he won't bite-- suck, yeah, and his mouth had dropped open at that insistent press, lips wrapping around his thumb eagerly, he'll definitely do that, but bite? No.

And then suddenly there's heat and pressure pushing slowly but inexorably into him, stretching him open, and it's everything he wanted and then some, and oh, right, that's why he said that, because suddenly every inch of him is on fire and oh, god, oh, fucking shit fuck, it hurts in the best possible way, his legs shaking and his eyes gone so wide it's almost comical, and thank god his instinct was to drop his mouth open instead of bite down.

He whines something that might be his name, slurred and pleading, as he tries not to expire right on the spot as Toshinori sinks in deeper. But he'd better not stop, he'd better not pull out, because Aziawa is equal parts desperate and stubborn, and it feels so good.]

[See, Toshinori plans ahead, he's self-aware enough for that helpful warning-- And the brief few seconds Aizawa sucks on his thumb are excellent, a thrill shooting straight down his spine and then it's over, too soon - luckily the look Aizawa gives him, involuntary or not, more than makes up for it. He grins, but it's shaky with the (frankly, herculean) effort it takes not to rail him mercilessly into the wall without any time to get used to the feeling.

He kisses his face instead, the corner of his mouth and down his jaw, a wordless moan the only encouraging sound he can manage. That's it, more like that, begging for him as he presses in further, fuck--]

Shouta-- wow. [Wow, he says, not an ounce of his camera-ready eloquence left. Wow, and wow has never sounded so filthy, but Toshinori still doesn't say fuck.

But he doesn't need more inspiration than those needy, practically incoherent noises Aizawa makes to squeezes his ass rock his hips once, twice, getting up to something more steady and less trembling.]

[He's moaning out curses, whimpering nonsense, his mind honestly blank as all his brainpower is devoted to trying to survive this without actually splitting in half. Fucking hell, but at least whatever pain there had been at the start is beginning to abate, replaced by searing hot pleasure, leaving him panting wantonly around Toshinori's finger, his eyes gone glazed.]

Wait-- just--

[A minute, just a minute, nothing more, but let his poor body try and get used to this before he's fucked within an inch of his life. Aizawa squirms, his head ducked down again, panting harshly as he tries to get a coherent thought together.]

You're so big, Toshi--

[Is that a complaint or a compliment? Both, maybe.]

[Aizawa says nothing at all in all that noise- aside from a few choice swears- and Toshinori is all but mesmerized by it, lips against his face, his neck, breathing too hard to focus on anything besides holding Aizawa up and fucking him. Pressure and heat, fucking hot, so tight around him that he's still trembling--

And Aizawa says wait, and it's like a bubble pops and lets the rest of the world back in just in time for... well, for an accurate assessment, at least. He can't help but laugh. Yeah, he's huge, he knows.]

'Toshi'? [aww, babe] I like it--

[Please, keep calling him Toshi forever, thanks. He drops his hand from Aizawa's mouth to his cock, wrapping around him and stroking generously, since he's been put on pause for the next, hmm, ten seconds if he has his way--]

Okay?

[He grunts irritably-- stop, stop taking advantage of his weakness, he's incapacitated and can't be held responsible for what he says, and honestly it's not a nickname, it's an inability to say his full name because he's being fucked by a man who is over seven feet tall-- and wriggles around, his panting slowing just a fraction.

It takes him another minute or so. That firm grip around his cock helps; he closes his eyes, savoring that pleasure, feeling his muscles slowly relax one by one.

Yeah. Yeah, okay, that's--]

Yeah--

[He opens his eyes again.]

Okay. You-- I--

Come fuck me.

[No, it's adorable and he loves it, he'll insist on it if he really has to. A minute is agonizing, but he holds as still as he can besides his hand and ducking down to kiss at Aizawa's face again, soft and affectionate while he gets his bearings.

It's a very goddamn long minute, toes curling against the shower tile, moving his other hand to grip Aizawa's hip--]

You're so-- romantic, Shouta-- [He's teasing, he is, he loves that demand as much as he loves that not-a-nickname.

But because he asked so nicely and Toshinori just as desperate-- great! He thrusts his hips further, now working up to a steady pace, fingers still wrapped around Aizawa's cock. He's generous.]

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And we're back with another episode of who even has icons for this?

wish we did! Wish we had something even remotely close! and yet here we are

i think the shocked aizawa face is very appropriate

well i'm glad you think that cuz you're gonna love this one

narrator voice: she did

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