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The final currents of Full Cowl course through Midoriya's body, illuminating him in an almost ethereal glow. It's barely perceptible to the naked eye, easy to miss if one isn't familiar with his quirk, but it's the trigger for Kirishima to bring his arms up in an X in front of his face. His hardening sprouts up in his skin like chunks of rock being pushed up from the dirt, encasing his arms and chest in jagged lines and sharp edges. A smile breaks across his face – not his usual cheerful one, but the one he wears when he's in the thick of a fight – showing off the narrow points of his teeth, brows drawn low over his eyes where he blinks away the sweat dripping. And that's Midoriya's cue to attack.

He launches himself at Kirishima nearly faster than Kirishima can track with his eyes, but it doesn't matter because he makes a critical error. Midoriya raises his fist long before the strike comes, and it's enough of a telegraph for Kirishima to duck his head out of the way before the blow connects. He keeps his body hardened, feet planted firmly on the ground, and prepares to hit back, when he's suddenly sliding backwards against the floor by several meters.

Kirishima gasps, deactivating his quirk and bringing his arms down. Midoriya's other fist is still poised in the air, taking the space where Kirishima's right flank had been a moment before. He was blindsided.

And though he took far more hits than he would have liked during this sparring session, Kirishima is happy with the outcome. Midoriya has improved so much in using his quirk, and pride and admiration swells in Kirishima's heart – his friend is going to be a great hero one day.

The two of them head to the showers, taking their places in stalls right next to each other. As they wash themselves, Kirishima notices a slight crease between Midoriya's brows that's been there since the end of their match. He wonders if he's done something wrong.

He lathers his soap over his body, stealing glances at Midoriya over the partition. Finally, he can't take the tense silence and he breaks it.


The curly haired boy looks up abruptly, flinging water around his stall. His face is bright red.

Kirishima puts on his best concerned bro face. “Is something wrong? You seem... troubled?”

Midoriya's eyes track around the tiles of the showers, mouth hanging open before snapping it shut. He smiles broadly and shakes his head. “No... no, there isn't. It's nothing.”

“Well, which is it? Nothing or something?”

His face seems to darken even further. “It's nothing you have to trouble yourself with Kirishima...but thank you for caring.”

Kirishima frowns. If there's something he can do to help, he wants to do it. “Hey, you can tell me! I just want to help. Maybe I can?”

Midoriya pulls his bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it, contemplating. “Um, do you – do you have any experience um-” He takes in a shaky breath before continuing. “Do you, have you ever had a girlfriend, Kirishima?”

Kirishima pauses mid swipe, washcloth between his pecs. He thinks over the question. He hasn't, but that's not unusual. He wasn't popular in middle school, and girls were only interested in popular guys. It's not something he's really cared about. He smiles, sheepish. “No, I haven't. Sorry if this is out of line, but is this about Uraraka?”

Midoriya immediately sputters, waving his hands around as though to wash the name down the drain along with the suds. “No-no-no it's not – that's not it, it's not like that!”

The bro doth protest too much, Kirishima thinks. But he doesn't pity Midoriya, he knows what it's like to wake up every morning with an ache between his legs, a constant reminder of his loneliness, a burden that his right hand (and sometimes his left when he's feeling fancy) must carry. It's hard. Literally.

And why this is all of a sudden bothering Midoriya, Kirishima wants to know. He has his suspicions, for he, too, often struggles with adrenaline induced boners. When he's alone, he'll rub one out in the showers no problem, but with others around, he has to wait until he gets back to his room. Is that what's bothering Midoriya right now?

“Do you want some help?” He asks then. If he's just gonna shower with a painful erection then Kirishima may as well make it more pleasant for him. He hates seeing his friend in pain.

“H-help?” Midoriya squeaks, looking somehow even more mortified. Kirishima peers over the partition, eyes zooming in on the little patch of dark, coarse hair and the dick standing among it. He knew it – Midoriya's as hard as a diamond.

Midoriya yelps and covers himself with both hands, looking away.

“It's alright, man.” Kirishima soothes, stepping away from the shower spray to come around to the other stall. “It's natural, normal.” He places a reassuring hand on Midoriya's shoulder, squeezing slightly. Midoriya remains facing the wall, head ducked and shoulders hunched.

“ is?” His voice is quiet and Kirishima has to strain to hear him over the running water.

“Yeah, totally! I get hard all the time from sparring, it's nothing to be ashamed of!”



Midoriya turns his head a little, making eye contact though his face is still a deep red. “Isn't that... um, gay?”

Kirishima busts out a laugh, his incredulity bouncing off the walls loudly. “What?! Nah, man! It's not like that! It's just, all the testosterone flowing. You're my friend, and I wanna help a friend out, you know?”

Midoriya still seems unsure, glancing away again in favor of staring at the shower knobs.

“Hey,” Kirishima starts, gentle. “There's no obligation to return the favor. Just let me help you out, it'll make me happy.”

“If... if you're sure...”

With a smile, Kirishima drops to his knees right there, turning Midoriya's body in the process so his cock is right in front of his eyes. It's of average size, proportional to his body with a nice, knobby head. Midoriya brings his hands to cover his face and smother a yelp when Kirishima takes him into his mouth eagerly, slurping from tip to base. He pulls back to lick up and down, eyes drilling into Midoriya's to see if he's doing a good job. He's never really done this before; only knows what to do from what he's watched in porn videos.

Whatever he's doing, he must be doing it well, because Midoriya drops his hands after a second and lets out a low moan when Kirishima hollows out his cheeks and sucks. So he repeats it, over and over, occasionally drawing back to swirl his tongue around the head, and never taking his eyes off of Midoriya's. Both being inexperienced teenagers, he figures it won't take long, and he's right. He can tell when the other is close because he squeezes his eyes shut and tilts his head back against the shower partition, gasping for air.

“Kirish-Kirishima, I think I'm going to -”

He pulls back to answer, hand coming up to pump his length in place of his mouth. “It's alright, you can finish in my mouth.”

He goes down on him again, fitting as much as he can past his lips. After a few more strokes Midoriya peaks, hot jets of cum shooting inside Kirishima. It's a heady, slightly bitter taste, but altogether not unpleasant. He pulls his friend out of his mouth and, shrugging to himself, spits the cum on the shower floor where it can be washed down the drain.

Standing, he smiles down at Midoriya, whose knees are wobbling and eyes are lidded. “Feel better?”

The boy nods weakly, catching his breath.

“Are you...?” He gestures towards Kirishima's crotch, where his own cock has stiffened sometime during the course of him sucking Midoriya off. He waves a hand dismissively.

“Oh, it's cool. I'll just jack it over in my stall.” He moves, then pauses when a thought occurs to him. “That's not gonna be too weird for you, right?”

Midoriya gives a forced smile. “Uh, no, not after that...”

And when Kirishima takes his cock in hand on the other side of the partition, he keeps his vision locked ahead, trying to bring to mind a pretty girl. But his mind keeps drifting to the way Midoriya looked as he sucked him down.




The members of Class 1-A have joined together to play board games Saturday night, and the party planner Ashido Mina has somehow managed to get everyone to participate – including the resident emo, Tokoyami, the sour sport, Bakugou, and the recluse, Todoroki. After a suggestion to play Spin the Bottle was unanimously rejected by the girls, the class broke up into smaller groups. Then, as the night dragged on, some retired for the night and the remaining party-goers divided into even smaller groups.

That was how Kirishima found himself alone with Kaminari in the stairwell, trading secrets.

“Do you wanna know my first kiss?” Kaminari asked in a whisper, his hushed voice carrying in the empty space. There was no alcohol at the party, but Kaminari still seemed to get loopy when he stayed up too late – probably an after effect of his quirk, using little bits of electricity throughout the day.

“Sure.” Kirishima says, his chin propped in the palm of his hand.

“Hiroko, that was her name.” He says fondly. “She wore her hair in curls every day. She was my first, and only kiss. She had braces so it was kinda sloppy and it hurt my teeth, but it was awesome. What about you?”

Kirishima purses his lips. “I've never kissed anyone before.” Kaminari's smile dims.

“Never? Dude, how come? Are you holding out for the right girl, or what?”

“Uh, not exactly...”

Kaminari gives his shoulder a playful punch. “There's no way I can believe you couldn't get any girl you wanted, so don't tell me that's it!”

Kirishima looks at the wall. That's not it. He just doesn't care about girls.

“I don't have time to chase girls. I have to focus on school.”

The other boy snorts. “Dude, we're all in hero school. And anyway, what do you do when you get... you know, pent up? I mean, when it comes down to it, that's really what I need a girlfriend for.”

Kirishima perks up, turning to look at him. “What do you mean?”

He blushes. “You know...” Kaminari curls his fingers into a circle and moves it up and down over his waist, miming jacking off.

“Ohh. You don't need a girlfriend for that.”

The blond rolls his eyes. “Jerking off is boring, man. Imagine how much better it'll feel if a girl does it.”

“Probably, like, really good.”


“Well, I can just do it for you.”

The stairwell is quiet, suddenly. Kaminari quirks an eyebrow at him and shifts slightly on the step.


Now Kirishima blushes. It wasn't bad at all to help Midoriya. In fact, he kind of really liked it. Watching him look so relaxed, knowing he can be helpful like that – it was an intoxicating feeling. At the core of it, being a hero is about helping people. So why shouldn't he help Kaminari out, too?

“I'll do it for you. You don't need a girl to do it. Like, I have a mouth, you know?”

“Dude, what?”

Kirishima chuckles nervously. Kaminari is turning this into a big deal when it doesn't have to be.

“Just let me show you.” He moves for the waistband of his friend's pants but his hand comes out to grip his wrist in a tight hold.

“No, wait! What are you doing?”

Kirishima smiles reassuringly. “I'm gonna suck you off.”

What?! Are you gay??”

He grimaces, pulling back. “I'm not gay! Listen, it's not gay at all, not any gayer than jerking off – that's a dude's hand that's touching your dick, you know.” Kaminari's eyes narrow. “I'm just doing it to relieve your tension! You don't need to find a girlfriend. Let me give you a quick blowjob, you'll see.”

Kaminari frowns at the floor, face flushed. With glee Kirishima notices the front of his shorts are tented, and his mouth waters at the thought. He runs a hand from Kaminari's knee to inner thigh, and pauses momentarily to see if the other boy stops him. When Kaminari makes no move to push him away, Kirishima gropes his crotch.

A hiss is wrenched out of Kaminari and he bucks his hips into the touch, face aflame. His eyes are shut and his face is decidedly turned away, but Kirishima doesn't mind. He understands if he's gotta think about a girl to make it easier.

He begins to fondle his cock until it reaches full hardness.

“I'm.. I'm not gay.” Kaminari mutters, avoiding eye contact, as though trying to convince himself.

Kirishima's hand freezes. “Do you want me to stop?”

He shakes his head. “Just letting you know.” Kirishima resumes his groping, coming to kneel between Kaminari's thighs and pushing them apart to make room.

“I'm not either.” He says, and pulls the other boy's shorts over his erection, freeing it. The first thing to come to mind is how pretty Kaminari's cock is. If Midoriya's looked like it was made for utilitarian purposes, then Kaminari's is meant for a life of luxury. His is a cock suitable for all kinds of activity, and Kirishima thinks wistfully that it is indeed a shame he doesn't have a girlfriend to blow it at his whim. Oh well, that's where he comes in.

Kirishima wastes no time in wrapping his lips around the head and swiping his tongue along the slit. With a groan Kaminari buries his fingers in his hair and nudges him forward, curling his body around him. Kirishima takes the rest in, bobbing up and down and listening to the stifled cries of his bro.

As he works and watches, he ponders whether sticking a finger up his bro's ass will make him finish faster. He read something like that on the internet once. But before he can attempt to reach around, Kaminari grunts and twists his fingers in his locks. He comes with no warning at all, making a choked noise in the back of his throat, holding Kirishima's head flush with his body. Kirishima has no choice but to swallow.

When Kaminari lets him off, the back of his throat tickles from where the cum hit it. His own dick is hard again. Damn teenage hormones.

Kaminari definitely looks less stressed, Kirishima thinks proudly. But there's still something bothering his friend.

“How was it?” He asks. Kaminari tucks himself away.

“It was... good. Do you, um, want me to... you know?”

“Nah, you don't have to do anything back.”

“You sure? Feels kinda crappy of me not to return the favor.”

Well, his cock is as hard as his quirk.

“If you want to, that'd be great, actually.”

Kaminari reaches a tentative hand out, shaking slightly as he feebly tugs at the waistband of Kirishima's shorts. They're tugged off by Kirishima the rest of the way, his dick springing out gaily.

Kaminari starts to pump it and it feels good just to have someone else's hand on it, but he's not holding it tight enough or going very fast at all. He's grimacing at it like it's a live snake, body scooted away as far as he can be. Kirishima doesn't want to be bothersome, but he'll never orgasm at this rate.

He wraps his own hand over Kaminari's and tries to show him how to work it. “Do it like you do it to yourself.” He coaches, and squeezes his fingers, making Kaminari go faster. The blond starts to go at a brutal pace, quick and rough. Kirishima moans, throwing his head back.

“Th-that's it.” He breaths, feeling the edge approaching.

“This is so weird.” Kaminari mutters under his breath. “Am I doing this...OK?”

Kirishima nods brusquely, voice breaking with grunts and moans. “Y-yeah. Keep going!”

The feel of another's hand on his dick, the difference in size, the unique coarseness on the pads of his fingers, the faint slickness from the sweat on his palms – it's all so much different than masturbation, makes it feel so much better. Before he knows it, Kirishima feels his balls draw up and tighten, a tingling like pins and needles spreading through his groin. He comes with a shout, thrusting his hips into his bro's hand, feeling himself release.

For several long moments there's no sound but his own heavy breathing and his heart beat pounding in his ears.

When he finally opens his eyes, Kaminari is looking around with his hand coated in cum.

“Do you have any tissues? I don't have any tissues.”

“Here,” Kirishima says, breathless, and takes him by the wrist. He already swallowed Kaminari's cum a few minutes ago, what's it to eat his own?

He brings the hand to his mouth and licks a stripe up the middle of the palm. Kaminari watches, expression a mesh between fascination, repulsion, and arousal. Kirishima watches him as he licks his own cum off of his friend's hand, sees how his cheeks burn and his pupils dilate, breath coming out in little puffs that fan across his face. If Kirishima didn't know better, he'd say it looks like he's enjoying the show.

“There,” He says, wiping the spit on his shorts. “That will work 'til you can get to a sink.” Kirishima stands, pulling his shorts back up and stretches his legs. “Thanks, man!”

Kaminari ducks his head, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, um, no problem. Thanks.” Kirishima smiles at him.

“No need to thank me. I'm just happy I could help.”

The blond's eyes trail after him as he leaves, mouth turned down in a pout.



It's the middle of the night when Kirishima sees him, standing in the shared dormitory kitchen looking forlorn. Todoroki has never been one for wearing his heart on his sleeve – almost the opposite of Kirishima in that regard – so seeing him staring off into space with the saddest expression is not something he ever thought he'd see.

He was just meaning to get a glass of water, not expecting to to be confronted with another's problems. Though he's sure Todoroki doesn't consider him a friend, he's still Kirishima's classmate. He can't let him suffer in silence. When he approaches, he greets him quietly so as to not startle him.

“Can't sleep?” Kirishima asks as he walks up to him, and fills a glass with water from the tap. Todoroki smooths his expression into something neutral, and he clears his throat.

“Yes. I think I'll try heading back to bed, now.”

Oh no, Kirishima didn't even get a chance.

“Wait, don't you wanna talk about it?” He blurts out before Todoroki can leave the kitchen. He turns around, facing Kirishima.

“Talk about what?”

“...Why you can't sleep?” He tries, shrugging.

Todoroki blinks at him.

“What for?”

“I dunno, it might help you feel better?”

“...I don't see how it would.”

Then, like a light switch being flipped, the solution comes to Kirishima. He raises a finger, triumphant smile spreading across his face.

“I got it! I know what will help you go to sleep!”

“You're a little loud.” Todoroki mumbles.

“Oh, uh, sorry.”

“What will help me sleep?”

Kirishima drinks down his glass of water, buying himself the needed seconds to gather his nerves. When he sets the glass on the counter, he steadies his voice so he sounds casual. “I'll blow you.”

Todoroki doesn't speak. Doesn't move.

The silence between the two boys stretches for what seems like eternity, with Todoroki's expression not changing in the silence and Kirishima's cheeks burning hotter and hotter with each second that passes. He's suddenly feeling unsure about this. He's not sure why, but he really doesn't want Todoroki to refuse.

Finally, Todoroki speaks.

“Are you referring to oral sex?”

Kirishima shuffles on his feet. “Well, uh. Sorta? Like, not in a sexual way though. Just like, in a helping a friend out sorta way.”

Todoroki's brows twitch just the tiniest bit. “I've never received one before.”

“No time like the present, yeah?”

Todoroki glances down at his crotch, looking totally out of his element yet still intrigued. Well, as much as Todoroki can look like anything. Kirishima's still not sure he's reading him right. “I suppose we can try that...”

Repressing a smile, Kirishima kneels before him, bringing a hand up to palm at his crotch. Todoroki's soft but thick, a nice weight in his hand. Kirishima's palms are sweating with anticipation.

Todoroki's voice breaks him out of his concentration. “And you think this will help me sleep?”

“Oh, definitely,” Kirishima says absently as he tugs down the other boy's pajama bottoms. “Haven't you ever gotten sleepy after you've come?”

“I don't...” He begins, then cuts off with a gasp when Kirishima licks a stripe up his limp dick. “...recall.”

Kirishima takes the flaccid cock into mouth, moaning around it as he feels it rapidly filling and thickening, stretching his lips around it. Todoroki's a grower from the feel of it, his length expanding to twice the size by the time he's fully hard, and Kirishima feels his belly do flips from excitement. He wonders if Todoroki will be quiet or loud? He likes learning these little things about his classmates.

Apparently he's very quiet. When Kirishima starts to bob along his shaft, the only reaction from him at all at first are his fists tightly clenched at his sides. But it doesn't take long before he's coming undone from Kirishima's attentions.

Little gasps escape him and his left side starts to feel hotter to the touch. His cock is hot and thick in Kirishima, and in the back of his mind he wonders if Todoroki will erupt in flames when he comes. It's alright though, because he can just harden himself if need be, and there's something absolutely alluring about seeing the normally reserved boy gradually lose control.

Todoroki starts to move his hips, rolling them in tiny circles to match the motion of Kirishima's head. Red and white pubic hairs brush against his nose, his manly scent filling his nostrils. It fuels his lust and Kirishima inhales deep, wanting to smother himself in it.

His jaw starts to cramp a little – Todoroki is taking longer than the other two boys – and he remembers the idea he had with Kaminari. He slips off his dick long enough to suck down his middle finger, making sure to coat it with copious amounts of spit before replacing his finger back with the boy's cock. His eyes shoot up to watch Todoroki, but he's not even looking at him. His head is cocked to the side, his eyes glazed over and he's staring off into the distance, mouth agape as he puffs.

Kirishima curves his wettened finger around to the back, and prods between his cheeks.

Todoroki's staring at him now, eyes wide but making no move to stop him. Kirishima takes that as a sign to proceed and nudges his spit slick finger against the rim, pushing past the tight muscle until his finger is swallowed in the searing heat.

Todoroki is blazing inside. Kirishima wriggles his finger, trying to bury it further inside and probing along the walls until he finds the little bundle of nerves he read about online. He presses against it tentatively, just to see what it'll do, and is pleased with the results.

The boy cries out, the first real noise he's made since Kirishima's started. He bucks his hips into him, clamping both his hands around Kirishima's face and his asshole around Kirishima's finger. One hand is burning against his cheek and the other freezing, and the contrasting sensations are unpleasant enough that Kirishima almost pulls away. But he furrows his brows and perseveres, knowing how badly Todoroki needs to just let loose.

So Kirishima presses on the cluster of nerves again, and again and again and again in a rhythm to match his mouth. Each stroke of tongue and finger has Todoroki crying out, a strangled noise caught between a sob and a yelp. It's so invigorating to hear his buddy feeling so good.

When Todoroki comes, it's with such force Kirishima fears his finger will get cut off from the strength of how hard his rim clenches around it. He catches all the cum on his tongue, the taste bitter and strong. As soon as he's able, he wrenches away from Todoroki to spit it out in the kitchen sink and wash his hands. Todoroki is melting ice crystals off his right side, completely out of breath. He looks a thousand pounds lighter.

“Thank you.” Todoroki says, before pulling his pajama bottoms back up.

“I hope it helps!”

They take the elevator back up to their respective dorm rooms, a companionable silence stretching between them. Kirishima feels closer to him now, like he's bridged a gap. Maybe after this, he can even call him his friend.

He sighs dreamily. Another job well done, another bro satisfied.




“Kirishima, may I speak to you privately after classes are over?”

Iida Tenya stands before his desk, hands on his hips looking down at him. Kirishima feels the stares of his classmates on his back, sees Bakugou glance over his shoulder at him. Iida rarely talks to him; what could this be about?

He licks his lips. Maybe it's his imagination, but he swears Iida's eyes flicker to his tongue.

“Sure!” He smiles.

Once everyone has cleared the classroom, Kirishima walks out to see Iida waiting in the hallway, bag over his shoulder. He's apprehensive, but a real man doesn't run in the face of uncertainty! He strides forward.

“What did you need to talk about, prez?”

“This is something better discussed in private. Please follow me.”

Shrugging to himself, Kirishima falls into step behind Iida, following him into the boy's toilets. Iida checks the stalls to make sure they're alone, then turns and levels his severe gaze at Kirishima.

“I have heard some... concerning rumors about you, Kirishima.”

Uh-oh. “What did you hear?”

“I won't name names, but some of our fellow classmates have told me that you have...” Iida coughs into his fist, cheeks dusting pink. “...performed oral sex on them.”

Some of their classmates, huh. Must be either Midoriya or Todoroki, if not both – they're close with Iida.

But if Iida is going to ream him out for that, then he'd have to do the same to his friends, too. Maybe he's already done that. Or maybe he's here for a completely different reason.

Kirishima gives a sly smirk. “And what if those rumors are true?”

This is clearly not the response Iida was expecting. He visibly gasps, bringing a hand up to straighten his glasses. “That kind of behavior is completely unbecoming of a hero-in-training!” He says, flustered, and swings a hand down in a chopping motion.

Kirishima licks his lips again, slow and (what he imagines to be) sensual. He was right before: Iida definitely takes notice, the color in his cheeks darkening.

“And why's that? I was just helping them de-stress. Like uh, giving a massage!”

“A massage!”

“Yeah, don't knock it 'til you try it!”

“I think not!”

Kirishima steps forward, crowding Iida. He reaches around him, pushing on a stall door to swing open. Even though he's much shorter than Iida, he feels like he's looking down on him and not the other way around. The power makes him feel light-headed.

Iida glances behind him at the now opened toilet stall, brows jumping up in shock. Kirishima takes the moment to shove him inside, following after, and locks the door behind him.

“You do wanna try it, don't you? You wanna know how it feels.” Kirishima grabs the front of Iida's belt. The fabric of his blazer shifts with the movement. There's a noticeable bulge in the front of his trousers. Kirishima drops to his knees.

“What are you doing?!”

Kirishima undoes his belt buckle and fly, and the pants fall to pool at Iida's ankles. The taller boy immediately goes to cover his crotch with his hands, slinking back until the back of his legs hit the toilet.

But Kirishima shimmies after, pulling his boxers down as well. He takes Iida's fat cock before he can stop him, and wetly kisses the head.

Iida covers his mouth with the back of his hand. “Kirishima,” He pants, voice muffled. “This is highly inappropriate.”

Kirishima wraps his lips around the head and flicks his tongue before drawing back. “I won't tell if you won't.” And then he swallows Iida whole.

The sound he makes is music to his ears. Kirishima works him with his mouth, jaw straining around the thick cock. It's the biggest he's taken so far, but that only makes him want to work all the harder to help him reach his peak. A cock like this deserves commendation. So he bobs his head on it with vigor, swirling his tongue back and forth around its girth as he moves, moaning when he feels the tip hit the back of his throat.

Iida's enjoying himself above with one arm braced against the stall, the other hovering over Kirishima's head, as though wanting to touch him but afraid to. He's watching his cock disappear inside the wet heat, Kirishima's red eyes flicking up to meet his.

Iida stammers. “Y-you h-have pretty eyes.”

Kirishima pulls off briefly to answer with a smile, showing off a row of sharp teeth. “Thank you!” Then he busies himself again with relaxing Iida with his tongue and lips.

The little gasps and moans, the way Iida's head keeps tipping back when he's completely sheathed, it's all so much. A throbbing ache grows between Kirishima's thighs, crying out for relief. With his free hand he unbuttons his school trousers and frees himself, and begins jerking himself off in time with the motion of his mouth.

Iida's cock is so fat he finds himself getting sloppy trying to take it all in, and little dribbles of spit slip out the corners of his lips, trailing down his chin.

“You're making a mess.” Iida hisses through clenched teeth. Even getting his dick sucked, it looks like he can't quite shake the class president persona. Well, guess Kirishima will just have get serious about this.

He pulls off to swirl his tongue up and down the shaft, piercing Iida with his eyes. “So, did they tell you I was good?”

Iida quirks his brows in confusion, so Kirishima continues. “Midoriya and Todoroki. The ones who told you about this.” He jacks him with his hand, licking the tip between sentences. “Did they say I was good? Is that why you wanted to try?”

“I didn't – ahh – this wasn't my intention...”

“Sure, sure, but -” He cuts himself off to take in his entirety before pulling back again, “- you're glad it's happening, right?”

Iida nods, legs trembling. His knees buckle and he catches himself on the walls, doubling over.

“P-pardon me, Kirishima...” He puffs in a strained voice. “I can't! Your mouth~” And he holds Kirishima on both sides of his head and begins to thrust into him, holding his head still and fucking into his face.

Kirishima nuts. He's careful to keep it from getting on Iida's pants, but feeling himself being used was too much. He yells around the dick cramming his mouth, tears prickle at the corner of his eyes. He's choking on Iida, he can't breathe, but fortunately Iida finishes not long after, shooting his load deep down Kirishima's throat. Even though there's a toilet directly behind them, he doesn't think he'll bother with spitting anymore.

Iida lets go of his head and Kirishima retracts. He smiles up at him. Iida clears his throat awkwardly.

“Well, I have now seen the error of my ways.” He pulls his pants back up, buckling his belt. “This has indeed proved to be an effective way to relieve stress.” He reaches around Kirishima, who is still on his knees with his softening dick out, and unlocks the stall door. “Thank you, Kirishima.”

Iida steps around him and leaves him in the bathroom. Kirishima takes his time washing up. He's helped four friends now. He'll be a pro in no time.




They're in the locker room. Ojiro is in his mouth, and Tokoyami is in his right hand. In his left he fists his own cock, precum dribbling down from his slit and coating his shaft. His hand makes a squelching sound as he works himself over, and he feels Tokoyami's sharp bird eyes watching him. His cheeks burn – he loves it, being watched.

Tokoyami has a cock like any of the other boys in Kirishima's class. By now he's seen (and tasted) most of them up close and personal, can tell who is the biggest, who is the smallest, who has the prettiest cock, who has the manliest. Tokoyami's is average in size, with the shaft thicker than the head. He's got normal pubic hairs rather than feathers (Kirishima thinks he may have embarrassed him when he pointed that out), and his scent is different than any of the other guys he's tasted. There's a faint avian aroma, something decidedly not human. Down here, by his cock, however, it's barely perceptible.

Ojiro on the other hand, is like any of the other boys in the class. His dick is a little small for his size, but Kirishima finds it cute, in a way. It's much easier to suck and his jaw doesn't cramp or get tired. But the thing about Ojiro that's alluring is his extra appendage; his tail is curled around Kirishima's torso, holding him in place. The fur on the end is incredibly soft, and it brushes against Kirishima's cock every now and then, sending a shiver down his spine. He wants to rut against it.

The feathers around Tokoyami's nape and cheeks bristle and puff out, his version of blushing. “You are... surprisingly talented at this.” He says, voice low and strained.

Kiri takes Ojiro out of his mouth with a wet pop. “Thanks, man!” Takes him back in completely. His little cock is perfect for sucking, but Tokoyami looks like he's close and he's barely received any attention. So Kirishima shifts, switching his mouth for his hand, Ojiro's dick now spit slick and dwarfed in his large palm as he strokes it. The tail around his waist tightens, bringing him flush against Ojiro's legs and the bushy tip purposefully stroking along his length. With a shiver Kirishima takes Tokoyami into his mouth.

A deep, throaty noise somewhere between a croak and a moan leaves Tokoyami and his head tips back, beak falling open. A dark presence shoots out of his spine, curving around him and swarming Kirishima's body. Kirishima almost chokes on his dick when he sees it; he's never had Dark Shadow so close to him, and he suddenly feels on edge. Dark Shadow is meant for attacking, what is he doing out right now? Does he think he's hurting Tokoyami?

Tokoyami senses his apprehension, and through moist gasps, explains. “Dark Shadow wants to show his appreciation.”

Can he – er, it? - do that?

He feels the demon aura extend and shove his hand off his own cock, replacing it with one of its clawed appendages. It doesn't hurt as he feared, and the touch is feather-light but somehow, still enough friction to have Kirishima drooling around Tokoyami.

With his other hand now free, he presses it against Tokoyami's ass, pushing him in further, trying to signal what he wants. He takes the hint and starts to thrust roughly inside Kirishima's wet hole, saliva and precum smearing his lips and cheeks.

Tokoyami busts not long after and coats Kirishima's tongue, and he pulls off to open his mouth and show Ojiro. Ojiro's bright red, panting.

“Is it alright for me to finish in your mouth?” He asks. He's still trying to be polite despite what Kirishima's doing to him. What a considerate bro.

Kirishima nods, still holding his mouth open and stretching it wider to give him a better target.

Ojiro comes then, a long moan erupting from him and his tail squeezing impossibly tight around Kirishima's torso. His jizz splashes across Kirishima's mouth and chin, and he can't breathe, all the air forced out of his lungs by the sheer strength of the tail. It's fucking manly how strong he is.

Kirishima nuts then, overwhelmed by all the sensations: hot cum in his mouth, Dark Shadow's ominous and ghost-like stroking, Ojiro's tail crushing him, the fluffy end of the tail petting his sensitive head. His sticky release spurts high, getting all over himself, the tail, and Dark Shadow. Finally, as the edges of his vision start to blur, Ojiro unwinds his tail and Kirishima gasps, falling over onto his hands and knees.

“It would feel immoral to do that to a girl.” Ojiro says when Kirishima sits back up, cautiously testing his limbs. His legs are numb and he feels faint. But goddamn if that wasn't one of the best orgasms he's ever had.

“That's...” His voice is hoarse, and he takes a second to inhale, the air burning his lungs. “That's what I'm here for!” He holds a fist out and Ojiro knocks his own against it.

Tokoyami sighs, contentment etched across his face. “Some of the darkness has subsided, for now.” He looks down at Kirishima, bowing his head slightly. “Thank you, Kirishima.”

He's getting pretty good at this.



Kirishima has no idea how he got here.

Someone from Class B smuggled alcohol into the B dorms, Tetsutetsu invited him over for a party, and next thing Kirishima knows, his visions is blurry, his limbs heavy, and he's kneeling in the middle of a circle of guys, cocks surrounding him on all sides.

He recognizes some of them: Awase is currently in his right hand, Monoma is in his left. He's just sucked Tetsutetsu, and now Kaibara is in his mouth. Another cock nudges against his cheek, and he quickly slips Kaibara out to take the fresh dick in his mouth. Everywhere he looks, a hot, thick cock waits for him, being stroked by its owner.

Suddenly Monoma groans out and warm cum splatters Kirishima's cheek. As if on cue, the newcomer between his lips shoots their load too, coating the inside of his mouth. More approach, tightening the circle around Kirishima, all furiously pumping their meat to the sight.

The dick inside his mouth softens and slips out, and Awase replaces it, thrusting his hips inside Kirishima's wet heat. Someone else finishes then, painting the other side of Kirishima's face. It's warm and sticky, and Kirishima's cock is aching with need. Fuck, this is wild. He feels like he can take on the world.

Awase grabs him by the hair, wrenching his face off his cock with an audible pop and with his other hand he jerks off onto his face, painting streaks across his nose and lips. Kirishima closes his eyes, narrowly avoiding being hit by a strip of it.

“Who's next?” The boy asks, panting, and Tetsutetsu steps forward, cock in hand.

“Open up, bro!” He says, fisting his cock. The tip is shiny with pre.

Kirishima smiles and drops his jaw. There's still cum on his tongue, he hasn't swallowed any of it yet, and Tetsutetsu sucks in a breath between his teeth.

“Fuck, that's hot.” He grinds out, voice catching on a moan. He jerks himself to the visual, comes soon after, spraying across Kirishima's face and in his mouth, adding more to the pile.

Someone else – Honenuki? - steps forward then and points his cock towards Kirishima's open mouth. He releases his load, adding another thick layer of hot cum all over Kirishima's face.

Kirishima can't take it any more. He fumbles with the button of his jeans before whipping out his own erection, and jacks it, relishing in the feeling of a mixture of cum drenching his face, pooling in his mouth, dribbling down his chin, staining his hair. Someone else cums on him, then another. He's lost track. He wants all of it on him, in him.

As he nears the edge, hands on his shoulders shove him back, force him to lay on his back with his knees bent. He doesn't stop beating his meat, but instead goes faster, the complete exposure and vulnerability, of knowing everyone is watching him, only fuels the fire in his gut.

“Come on yourself!” Someone commands.


He explodes, immense pleasure overtaking him, and he curls into himself panting like a dog. Fluids drip from his open mouth, quickly replaced by his own thick jets. Ropes of cum hit his chest and face and it's so much, he thinks he could almost come again just from the thought, and his orgasm drags on, cock pulsing and throbbing even after he's run dry.

When he comes down from his high, he's splayed out on the floor with his pants down and coated in several different guys' ejaculate. Kirishima's sure there's not a single dry strip of skin on his face.

How did he end up here?

He doesn't know but it's not bad. Helping his friends out has become something of an addiction.




Of all the people he's helped in his new quest, Bakugou has never approached him, and Kirishima's been too nervous to go to him. But he knows Bakugou is aware of what's going on behind the scenes; at this rate, Kirishima would be surprised if there wasn't a single guy in their grade that didn't know. After Iida, the opportunities started pouring in. One after another (and sometimes twice at once), guys from Kirishima's class and Class 1-B started making it a point to get alone with him, casually dropping hints about being stressed out or feeling burdened. Sometimes they didn't even bother with that though, just asking if the rumors were true and dropping their pants when Kirishima affirmed them.

But Bakugou was never one of them. A few times, he's seen him watching him from across the room, brows drawn down low, gaze sharp and menacing. Kirishima would feel himself blush, turn away from him. He wants to help him, more than any of the other guys. If anyone in the class needs some relief, it's Bakugou.

But Bakugou doesn't accept help easily.

So when one lonely evening, Kirishima hears knocking on his dorm room door, he's surprised to find Bakugou standing on the other side. His trademark scowl is firmly in place, hands shoved deep into his baggy shorts, black tank top hugging his toned chest. And he's blushing.

“What can I do for you?” Kirishima greets, doing his best to keep the nervousness from his voice.

Bakugou stomps inside without waiting for permission and sits on the bed. Kirishima shuts his door and turns to look at him, brow cocked in question.

“What you do for everyone else.” He finally sneers, the pink of his gums visible. Even making such an ugly face, he's so... attractive. It's completely unfair.

Kirishima's heart hammers in his chest and for a split second he's terrified he'll puke. The feeling vanishes though, replaced by awe when Bakugou stands and pulls his shorts down before sitting back down again. He's never been this nervous before with any of the other guys. He's just like everyone else, he repeats in his head like a mantra, and closes the distance between them.

“You want a... a blowjob?” Kirishima asks, and damn why is his voice shaky?

Bakugou doesn't comment on it, but slips his soft cock through the opening in his boxers. Kirishima sucks in a sharp breath, eyes darting down to take it in.

He's not hard yet, but god is that the perfect dick, Kirishima can already tell. His mouth waters, and he trails trembling hands up Bakugou's legs to rub around the crease between balls and thigh. Before his eyes he stiffens, filling out into the perfect shape and size, standing proud and tall. Kirishima licks his lips, bending down to taste.

It's so good. If he thought his other bro's had interesting, unique flavors, well – Bakugou's is mind-blowing. He wants to drink him in, eat him up. In fact, why can't he?

He pulls away, briefly glancing up to see Bakugou's labored breathing, cheeks ruddy, eyes glinting. Kirishima takes his boxers off.

“Can you lean back a little?”

Bakugou eyes him warily, but does as he's asked anyway. He goes back on his elbows, propped up so he can see what Kirishima's doing. Kirishima lifts Bakugou's legs and hooks his knees over his shoulders, curving his spine enough so he can reach beneath.

With one hand he pumps Bakugou's cock, and with the other he spreads his ass cheeks, and buries his face between them.

Bakugou yelps when Kirishima tongues at the muscle. His own dick is rock hard just from the first touch. But then he feels Bakugou relax around him, push his hips down a little. With manly passion, Kirishima begins to eat his hole like it's a fine dining experience.

He laves at it, pushing the tip of his tongue past the tight ring and withdrawing again to lick broad stripes across it. He feels it wink against his tongue and his dick throbs. He wonders what it would feel like to put it in there.

Kirishima stops to trail his tongue up his taint, carefully sucking on one of his balls, before moving to take Bakugou's now leaking cock into his mouth again. Through his lashes he sees Bakugou staring at him. He looks displeased, somehow.

“You do this to everyone?” He murmurs. Kirishima pops off, frowning.

“The sucking, yeah.”

“How many of them returned the favor?”

Kirishima's frown deepens. Why does that matter? He's not doing it for his own pleasure, he's doing it to help his friends out. But Bakugou takes his silence as an answer.

“Fucking thought so.” He sounds angry, and he pushes Kirishima off of him to sit up. He loops his arms under Kirishima's, and with a grunt, throws him onto the bed.

“What are you doing?!” Kirishima scrambles back, head hitting the wall and he winces. Bakugou rips his shorts off of him, exposing Kirishima's erection and his face burns from embarrassment. “Seriously, what the hell!”

Bakugou levels him with a stare that brooks no argument. “You're on bottom.” He says without explanation, and Kirishima's brain scrambles to make sense of the situation. Before he really knows what's happening, Bakugou drags him to lay flat on the bed and climbs over him, turning around so his cock is in Kirishima's face, and lowers himself.

It clicks into place at the same time he feels something hot and slick lap at his cock and he cries out, hips bucking up. Is this what he's been doing to everyone? It feels incredible. Bakugou takes him whole, then, swirling his tongue around his shaft and Kirishima pants, tears pricking in the corner of his eyes from the sheer pleasure. He won't last long.

But Bakugou keeps him from getting too caught up, his heavy dick nudging Kirishima in the cheek and reminding him of his duty. So he takes him into his mouth, craning to get the whole thing inside. Bakugou thrusts down, over and over, the tip hitting the back of Kirishima's throat and even sliding down it a little.

Bakugou moans then, sending vibrations through Kirishima's groin, and it's enough. Kirishima comes fast and hard, balls drawing up, legs seizing, and he chokes of the dick in his mouth as he spurts his load inside Bakugou. When he realizes how quickly he came, he's embarrassed, but Bakugou only continues to fuck his mouth, now moaning loud and unabashed with nothing to muffle his cries.

This feels... different, from all the other times. Kirishima's not sure why, but his heart swells. He feels so close to Bakugou right now, almost like they're one mind, one being. It almost feels... romantic.

His eyes snap open as realization dawns on him. At the same time, Bakugou comes down his throat, ramming his entire length inside and grinding down against his face. He swallows it, and when Bakugou slips out, he sits up and wipes his mouth, staring at Bakugou with wide eyes.

“That was... gay.”

Bakugou falls back onto the bed, panting. “No shit. I'm gay. You're gay. It's... fucking gay, idiot.”

Kirishima nods, too embarrassed to admit all the justifications, all the excuses he's been making the whole time. If Bakugou knew, he'd never let him live it down. He gazes longingly at the space beside Bakugou's side, looking warm and inviting. No one ever cuddles him after, and he never realized until now how badly he wants that.

Bakugou lifts his head to meet his eyes. “What are you doing? Come here.”

Kirishima stumbles over, collapsing next to him with a pleased grin as Bakugou curls an arm around him.

All the instances before flash through Kirishima's memory, and his smile falters. “Dude, I'm the class bicycle.”

The arm around him tightens, pressing him closer. “Well, you're my bicycle now. Got that?”

Kirishima's heart flutters. He cups Bakugou's cheek, leaning closer. “Can I kiss you?”

There's a softness in Bakugou's eyes and voice when he answers, lips brushing against Kirishima's. “Idiot, don't ask...


OK, so maybe Kirishima isn't as straight as he thought.