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Interrupted Intimacy

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The first time, neither hero thought much of it. 

An incident like this was bound to happen eventually, though Hizashi did whine internally (read: externally) that it had to happen so soon. The newly situated dorm system had been impacting Shouta and Hizashi more than they both realised, and the new prospect of never truly going home caused both to work even more; spend actual time together even less. 

This had always been a problem, even before when the day ended with coming back to their shared, secluded apartment rather than a large room they both occupied in the teachers building. It came with the territory; with the knowledge of working two (or three, in Hizashi's case) jobs very prevalent in both of their minds. 

But before, at least, they had been able to compromise somehow. To milk their strained schedules dry of every last drop of free time it could spare. And it had worked, mostly. 

Now, however, it didn't, because this wasn't the same. Teaching wasn't just a job they did anymore. Teaching was suddenly something they lived. It was waking up on a weekday and already being surrounded by school walls and noisy teenagers, going to sleep on a weekend but only after the routine check in with their students. It followed them both around like a persistent bug, so when you piled patrols, and radio shows, and meet-ups, and interviews, and press conferences, and everything else they needed to do, time for Shouta and Hizashi to relax together, in the comfort of the others company didn't really exist anymore. 

And time for Shouta and Hizashi to have sex definitely didn't exist anymore. 

It wasn't something worrying, considering neither were hormonal teenagers anymore, now with prevalent jobs, about 7 years of marriage and 20 or so newly adopted kids. 

It was, however, annoying. 

Hizashi considered himself to have a reasonable libido - most definitely bigger than Shouta's, but not like Nemuri, no, never like Nemuri. So after over two or so months of just work, and work, and more work, he was allowed something else, surely. 

Hence, the situation at hand. 

It's funny, how a single week long holiday still in the confines of the teachers building felt like such a breath of fresh air. One that Hizashi had engulfed without second thought, almost jumping at the prospect of time with his amazing husband who he loved very, very dearly. 

His husband, who's calloused, over-used hands gripped tightly onto Hizashi's thighs enough that he was definitely going to leave a mark. His husband, who practically vibrated with a purr when Hizashi bit down on the soft, pale expanse of exposed skin close to his neck. 

His husband, who met Hizashi's rolling hips with an unusual vigour. 

The blond pulled back from where he had buried himself in Shouta's neck. One of his hands splayed over an unsuprisingly broad chest as his fingers played with the dark, thick hairs there, while the other not-so-subtly slipped downward to tease the edge of the elastic band atop Shouta's sweatpants. "Missed me?" He gave a slightly mischievous grin, grinding his ass once again against his husband's clothed but suprisingly full-on erection. 

It earned him a flush of pink against usually pale cheeks and an exasperated huff that Hizashi drank in eagerly with his eyes. "We see each other every day, Hizashi." Shouta pointed out: his dark, bloodshot eyes narrowing almost scoldingly even as his grip continued to tighten pleasantly. 

"Yet look at you, Shou." Hizashi purred with a little slip of his quirk, feeling his eyelids drop sligtly behind his glasses and his weight press down even more against Shouta's tent for emphasis. His own half-hard dick jumped a little as Shouta met his hips again, and Hizashi couldn't suppress the smug look that encompassed his features. "All this, just for me." 

He could feel his haphazardly tied up hair coming lose against his back, shirt long gone and skin pressed almost flush against Shouta's own. The beat of Shouta's fastening heartbeat felt warm and welcoming against his chest, a stark contrast to his harsh features which were pulled taught in embarrassed annoyance. 

He hadn't said anything, but Hizashi felt like laughing anyway. "Don't be like that." He could feel his own voice rumbling through his chest, not as deep as Shouta's in any aspect, he could never, but low and tantalising in a way he knew his husband loved. "C'mon, tell me how much you missed me." 

Shouta huffed again, eyes trailing across Hizashi's face and leaving his skin burning wherever they swept over. He felt a smile pulling at his lips again even at the small movement, and leaned in even closer, teeth pulling at the others ear lobe mischievously. "I missed you, Shou." It started off earnest, though he could feel his tone dropping again at the next words. "And your cock. God, I can't wait to have it fill me up again and pound into me so hard that I can't walk straight." 

Hizashi felt Shouta tense up against him, before he grinded his hips down even harder than all the previous times. His knees dug into the soft material of the sofa as if to represent just how bad he wanted this: how bad he wanted Shouta. 

Said man let out a harsh breath, head tilting to the side so he could press a chaste kiss to Hizashi's lips, which was still lingering and hot with their combined body heat. "Yes. I missed you, 'Zashi. So much." The words were strained, his voice sharp and scratchy with arousal, but that just made Hizashi revel in them even more, body responding eagerly in a way that made Shouta take in another unsteady inhale of air. 

"Yeah? How much, Shouta. I wanna know." He knew he was dragging it out, but the picture of Shouta, flushing and telling Hizashi how much he wanted to fuck him made everything feel right. "Pretty please, for your favourite husband." Shouta looked right at him, gaze intense as if contemplating, and Hizashi just knew that his husband had already conceded, given in to him like putty he had to mold just right. 

The underground hero opened his mouth, as if to speak again, but then suddenly snapped his head to the side towards the door with an unfiltered groan. He buried his head in Hizashi's uncovered chest, and the said blond blinked owlishly, unsure of what was happening when suddenly their front door swung open with vigour, Nemuri waltzing in with a palpable excitement as if it were her own room.

Everything suddenly sobered up a little, like a light had been blasted in his face and the world once again began to move. The feel of Shouta's legs under his felt nice, at least, as his weight sank down, letting out a silent sigh aswell. Shouta had heard Nemuri in the hallway, most likely. He wished he'd had his hearing aids on. 

She seemed to look around for a moment before turning her head and looking right at them. Right into Hizashi's eyes without hesitation. 


The situation seemed to dawn on her, and after a second, in true Nemuri fashion, she simply grinned, eyes darkening with amusement. "Oh." 

Shouta groaned against his chest, and Hizashi desperately wished it was for another reason that his husband was making noises like that. 

Wishing didn't make things come true, though.





After the incident, nothing much happened between them. Their one slot had slipped away, and suddenly responsibilities became all too prevalent in their lives once more. 

Work. And then work again some more. 

Shouta would have found it annoying if he didn't genuinely like his job. Sure, dealing with kids was irritating at best and they were nosy and too loud, poking their noses around in ways they thought inconspicuous but definitely was not, but they were his kids. Rambunctious, obnoxiously loud, but he was fond. Fond even though they took up most of his waking moments. Fond even though the most he got to see his husband privately was a kiss on the cheek in the morning or a set of arms around his chest at night. 

But then he woke up this morning, and decided fondness wasn't enough to coat over his annoyance. 

Annoyance at how the other man, the moment he had a free day without the weight of three jobs on his shoulders (which Shouta thought too much, more often than not, but knew how down Hizashi got if even one of them wasn't a part of his life) took to consuming his mind, whether conscious or not.

This morning, he had woken to the tantalising smell of proper breakfast, a wonder neither had had time to indulge in recently. 

This morning, he had stumbled into the kitchen at 6am to see his husband, donned in bright blue shorts that showed too much leg and a comfortable white shirt (which he believed to be his own) that showed too much arm. His long hair collected around his shoulders as he bobbed along to an English song on the radio with a lax smile, and Shouta realised once again how much he loved Hizashi. 

He didn't think twice before saddling up to him, wrapping his arms around that delightfully slim waist and burying his face in the others shoulder. Ink-black hair tangled with golden blond, much like the orange-yellow hues of sunlight tangling in the previously pitch-black night time sky outside. 

"Good morning handsome." Hizashi hummed, leaning back into his husband immediately. Shouta made a groggy hum of agreement in response, simply breathing in the smell of Hizashi's shampoo as his sleep riddled brain tried to clear the fog surrounding it. The blond laughed, bright, and the sound went right through Shouta, piercing every ounce of his being without apprehension. 

As much as he would like to deny it, Shouta spent the rest of the day on his patrol thinking of Hizashi and his warm smile, in their little dorm apartment bathing in the sunlight. He thought of those dazzling, electric green eyes, distracting amongst the darkness of everything else, and couldn't stop thinking of them until he came home again, or as home as the dorms could be, anyway. 

But only because his thoughts were instead consumed by something else once he stepped foot inside. 

By those long legs, still shown off and accentuated by the shorts he seemingly hadn't taken off. By that mischievous grin when Hizashi caught him staring, before moving around in fluid, purposeful movements that showed off his ass. By Hizashi's neck, soft and untouched, uncovered for once and left to breathe. 

But more importantly it was the idea of these assets. The idea of Hizashi's legs around his waist. The idea of Hizashi's grin, replaced by a gasp and a breathless moan. The idea of Hizashi's neck, vulnerable and so important to him, laid bare for him to mark and claim. 

It was these ideas that he couldn't shake. 

Shouta had never had a good concept for how often was often enough for sex. Not that he cared much. It was something he indulged in when he wanted to, and otherwise pushed to the side, a thought of maybe later. 

But maybe three months - almost four now, he realised - was too long, if simply the idea of Hizashi, who was beautiful and elegant in all the right ways, was enough to stir him like this. It was as if he were 21 again, when his libido had peeked far too high for his own liking. 

He stood silently, leant against the wall and watching idly as Hizashi pulled shirt after shirt out of the wardrobe, thrusting them over his body and doing a twirl in the mirror, before making a face and a strange sound, shucking the clothes off, and trying out a new set instead. Rinse and repeat. 

Shouta personally didn't get this part of Hizashi, when it came to clothing attire. Didn't understand spending hours on an outfit for just a simple interview the next day, or spending hours on his hair for a single picture. Instead, Shouta opted for pulling on the first thing that looked coherently good and leaving it at that. 

Hizashi made another noise of disapproval, and Shouta could feel his brows pull together into a frown. "I don't get why you do this every time. Everything looks good on you, Hizashi." 

Said blond turned his head, mouth immediately pulling up into a smile, soft but still energetic as usual, eyebrows doing a miniscule little wiggle aswell. "Thanks, handsome, but it needs to be perfect, not just good." 

He continued staring even as Hizashi looked away again, mulling over the pet name inwardly. It was the umpteenth time his husband had called him that just today, and he didn't mind, no, the name made his heart flutter wonderfully, but usually the voice hero didn't throw around pet names like they nothing. He simply depended his frown, before biting his caution in the face and asking outright. "Why do you keep calling me that?"

"What? Handsome?" Hizashi gave him a look - big, green eyes pointing up at him innocently despite them being the same height, even as an impish grin pulled at the edges of his lips. 

"Yes." Blunt. To the point as he usually was.

"Why?" He was outright smirking now, hanging the now forgotten shirt on the warn, metal knob of the wardrobe before stepping towards Shouta cautiously, making said man try to sink even further back into the wall behind him. Trapped. "Can't I remind my husband how utterly handsome I think he is?" 

Shouta scoffed deeply in response, and Hizashi seemed to understand what he was saying well enough - I'm not. 

He watched as Hizashi's face fell a little, lips twitching in the way they did whenever the blond couldn't decide between chipper and flirtatious, or serious and straightforward. It only made Shouta tense against the wall even more.

Suddenly Hizashi's face was barely centimetres away, and his fingers were slowly inching around the expanse of his neck, cupping his unshaven jaw intimately. 

"The other day-" He started, fair brows furrowing together as his eyes trailed over Shouta's face. "With that big reporter incident." Thoughts of the media, swarming outside the safe confines of UA's walls, determined and loud and pushy like they had been since the start of the year filled his head. "One of them said somethin', about you. And how you look and stuff. Well, it was a passing comment, really, but- hm. It annoyed me? And I've been thinking about it, and I think I've just completely forgotten that some people just don't see you the same way I do, Shouta." 

They locked eyes, and Hizashi immediately lit up into a bright, soothing smile, lines creasing around the edges of his eyes like they always did. "They don't look at you and go 'oh my god, he's so hot. How am I married to him', y'know?" 

Shouta could just barely repress a small huff of amusement at the dramatic impression Hizashi created even of his own thoughts, however the fond, warm smile at Hizashi's (though coated in exaggeration) words just couldn't be held back, it seemed. His hands came to rest on Hizashi's waist, and said man pressed a small kiss to his lips. Warm. 

"I know you heard it, Shou." Hizashi's voice seemed light, airy, but Shouta could hear the serious tone that laced the undersides, the ones that seemed to probe at his heart in hopes of finding an way inside. "And I'm not letting that stand. Nu-uh. I love you, and your mess of what you call hair, and your stubble, and your eyes, and your muscles, and oh my god-" He had slipped into english, pressing another kiss to Shouta's lips, much deeper as said man opened up easily for the blond. When he pulled away, another idea was added to Shouta's list: Hizashi's lips. "you're so hot."

They had found a door in his heart, there as it had been for a long time now, hinges old but unused as it stood still, wide open and filled to the brim with all the words Hizashi placed there. All the thoughts. All the ideas. Shouta remembered today, of the insistent persistence of Hizashi, Hizashi, Hizashi and felt something bend, caving under the weight of his full heart.

He slid his hands down Hizashi's sides until they hooked into the undersides of his knees, before hoisting the blond upwards and flipping them round in all the same motion. It earned him a harsh yelp, loud and sharp against his ears in their close proximity.


But instead of him, it was Hizashi, pressed up against the wall with his legs tangled around his waist and hands tangled around his neck. Shouta waisted no time, hands sliding upwards until the pads of his fingers caught the edge of something blue, soft and loose, frayed from wear.


The hero looked up, catching green eyes that shined under the last rays of sunshine outside like crystals, and felt a grin consume his own face even despite his fight. He pushed into Hizashi's space even more, body completely flush against the flowy white tank top that separated them: if Shouta's own skin-tight black shirt was to be ignored, anyway - which it was.

"Oh my god." He drawled out the words in his usual baritone, though English definitely felt weirder on his tongue than Hizashi's, and said blond fell silent as he stared at him, jaw and mouth slack from where it had opened to speak. "You're so beautiful." It was imitation of Hizashi barely a second earlier, yes, but it was all Shouta's mind had been saying all day. Over and over and over.

All was silent before Hizashi face fell into his shoulder and annoyingly (read: beautifully) loud laughter filled the thick air. Seemingly trying to regain control, Hizashi pulled back, gasping for air only to break out into ruckus wheezing after seeing Shouta's presumably flushed face. 


"Nothing! Nothing! I'm just- oh fuck- oh god-" 

Limbs clutched onto him tightly, and even as Shouta felt embarrassment clamber over his every fibre, he still clung to the warmth Hizashi provided, still relished in the deep vibrations of his slim chest against his own. 

"Shut up, Yamada." 

"No, no! You don't get it, Shou! You should have seen your face! It was so-" 

"Shut. Up." Shouta gritted his teeth and practically spat the words out, very aware of the burning sensation that littered his skin but felt so prominent against his cheeks especially. 

Hizashi continued to smile, even as he calmed down and rested his head back against the pale coloured wall behind him. "I love you so much, holy shit. I think I just saw stars." 

Shouta glared at the blond with his entire being, before releasing his now far too harsh grip and placing Hizashi back down on his own two feet. Said man pouted a little at the motion, arms wrapping around Shouta's neck to pull him in again. "Aw, c'mon. Pick me up again. I really like it when you flex your strength like that, y'know. It had me going for a sec'" 

He levelled his husband with a scowl, and Hizashi only pouted more. Childish. "I'm not poking fun at you, Shouta. It's just so funny when you get lost in a moment like that." 


"I mean it! You look cute, I just wasn't expecting it!" He tilted his head to the side, obviously aiming to look endearing but all Shouta could stare at was the lingering impishness in his features. 

"I've been thinking about you all day." He blurted it out, nose immediately wrinkling up ever so slightly at the lack of control. 


"I was just, thinking of you." He pulled at his face and scratched at the edge of his beard, nervous gesture well known to both of them as he looked down toward the floor. "A lot. And then you were saying that and- I got carried away." 

Shouta pressed his lips into a thin line, annoyed at his own lack of coherent social skills when it came to forming reasonable sentences. 

Hizashi's head popped into his view, ducked under Shouta's mess of hair enough that even with his downcast posture, the underground hero still had a clear view of the blond's unfiltered, happy expression. "You know I always like it when you get carried away, Shou." 

He looked up, blinking for a second before the words registered, and he immediately turned away again, giving a small stiff shrug. "Right." 

A silence fell over them again, before the feel of Hizashi's index finger tracing patterns along his collarbone made him turn back once again. 

"So, you've been thinking of me, huh?" He paused, before adding a lilt to his voice that was obviously intended. "Nasty thoughts? Of all the bad things you wanna do to me now that we're all alone for once?" 

Shouta rolled his eyes, but still stood up a little straighter, still felt his heartbeat pick up in way that made him hate that he noticed. He looked over Hizashi, at the way he was batting his fair eyelashes with a barely noticeable grin. 

He decided. Today was a day for getting carried away. 

"Yes, I was." He looked right into those dazzling green eyes, amused as their movement stilled in a temporary shock. He stepped closer, trying his hardest to keep a monotone expression, though he was probably betrayed by the lingering colour of embarrassment, even as he stared intently at every minuscule movement in Hizashi's face. 

Shouta's finger moved to trail a path down his skin, ghosting over his lightly freckled jaw, his pink dusted ear, his pulsing neck. "I really want to mark you." The blond sucked in a slow breath through his teeth at his confession, and it was only because of their close proximity that Shouta heard it. He basked in the sound, and could feel his lips tugging upwards as his other hand rested on Hizashi's waist. "I really want to fuck you, too."

His husband's arms tightened around Shouta's neck as he let out a quiet but unbashful groan, before abruptly pulling them backwards. They toppled towards the bed and landed atop each other with a pained huff, and Hizashi spread out his legs, before tucking them into the crevice of Shouta's back with practiced ease. He tilted his head to the side with a broad, uncovered smirk, and spoke, low and breathy.

"Like this, Shouta?" 

Shouta stilled, elbow pressing into the deep, purple velvet sheets next to his husband's head harshly, giving only a small hum of approval in response. He moved to Hizashi's jaw, mouthing at the skin there and letting his teeth scrape lower, the smell of Hizashi engulfing everything around him. 

The voice hero pulled his hips down harshly with his legs, forcing him to meet Hizashi in the middle as he jutted upwards at the same time. It made Shouta's mind reel for just a second, before he pulled back from his husband's neck and instead attached himself to those lips, still crooked and wide in a smile. 

Kissing Hizashi would never get old, Shouta mused. Not even after 8 years of being together, the feel of teeth against his bottom lip and smooth, glistening skin against his own, chapped and dry, could never be unpleasant. 

The blond melted against his mouth, pliable, soft, warm, before pulling away for air. Their breaths mingled where Shouta hovered above his husband, not wanting to pull away from the inviting affection swarming around him. 

"Anything else you thought of?" His voice was a little raspy, a telltale sign that he was getting flushed. 

Shouta couldn't help his smile. 

"Your li-" 

A harsh, abrupt shrill from the bedside table cut off his words. Shouta's phone. He could feel his face twisting, morphing into one of pure distaste and annoyance. Hizashi flopped backwards onto the bed, arms splayed out around him and Shouta's mind displayed him with this image, but hotter, sweatier, a lot more skin on skin. 

"Can we ignore it? I really, really just want to have sex with you." 

Shouta was tempted. Very, very tempted, even as the harsh ringtone continued to pierce his ears. But then suddenly another loud sound from the kitchen found its way to mingle with the shrill, harsh ring of Shouta's phone. 

It was Hizashi's phone, too. 

This made them both frown, and Hizashi reluctantly removed his legs from where they were tightened around Shouta, allowing him to reach over and pluck the phone from the wooden table, upside down and light in his hands. 

"Who is it?" 

Shouta looked at the name on his phone, and desperately wished for it to be someone else, someone less important. 


Tsukauchi meant work. Tsukauchi meant something that couldn't just be pushed aside and ignored. Hizashi groaned, still able to hear his own phone calling for him. "It was supposed to be my day off, damnit." 

Shouta gave his husband a comforting look, or as best as he could, before looking down at his own screen. His finger slid upwards on the green button, and the loud sounds of people rushing about, shouting and chaotic filled the silence. 

"Eraser. We need you down at the station. And Mic too, if you have him." 

Work and work some more. A constant cycle.





And work they had. 

The police were short staffed, from a rampant gang outburst further out in the city that caused them to lack sufficient manpower when another attack commenced down south. 

Shouta usually wasn't pulled out for big collective attacks, considering his quirk, but this group specifically he had been tracking down for a while now with the help of a few force members. And Hizashi, well, that was just unfortunate placement. 

The whole skeptical had gone relatively well, with minor casualties and only a few seriously injured, of which, Shouta was not included, much to Hizashi's thanks. 

The night was dark, cold, not a shred of light to be seen as they finally stumbled back into the dorms at a reasonable time. 

If 4:17 in the morning could be considered reasonable, that is. 

Hizashi, ever the energetic, didn't actually feel that drained, with late night radio shows having made him accustomed to the extremely late times of the night. He automatically went to shower, to rid himself of the dirt and blood that had accumulated on his skin and the minuscule amounts of gel left in his hair. 

Even afterwards, as he pulled on his boxers, wrapped his favourite, heavenly fluffy pink towel around his shoulders and slipped on his black-rimmed glasses, sleep did not pull at his eyes. 

On his way back to the bedroom, where he expected his husband to be, he had to pass through their small seating area attached to the kitchen, and instead saw his husband across the sofa, buried so far in the cushions there that his hair had seemingly melded into the matching black material. 

He slowly walked over, the balls of his feet softly hitting the wooden floor beneath them until he was stood, looming over the sleeping body of Shouta. 

Hizashi crouched down next to the others head, edges of his towel grazing over his knees as he studied Shouta's - for once - completely lax features. Hizashi always loved how soft his husband looked during his slumber. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss on Shouta's forehead, then his cheek, and his eyebrow, and jaw, and lips, and- 

"'Zashi?" Shouta slurred the singular word, eyes fluttering open and mouth pursed in confusion. He pressed another kiss to Shouta's nose and spoke gently because he knew how sensitive and jerky the hero could be just after waking up. "Go have a shower, Aizawa." 

His husband scoffed quietly, clinging to the pillowy comfort of the sofa in defiance. Hizashi had to physically pull him from the piece furniture and throw him in the bathroom, befofe turning the shower on, purposely colder than his own steaming one so that Shouta wouldn't pass out on the hard tiles that lined the floor. 

Although he did worry, for a second, after 20 minutes, when Shouta still hadn't come back out yet. But as the sound of rushing water finally came to a quiet, his fingers stilled from scrolling through his phone atop their duvet, head watching the door intently, patiently. 

Shouta padded in after another second, hair dripping and body still glistening under the warm, low lighting. Hizashi felt himself grinning. "Hello, sleeping beauty."

Said beauty only leveled him with a glare, before making his way over, muscles rippling with every movement. And now Hizashi just couldn't stop staring, heated memories of being picked up like nothing and shoved against the wall, harsh, hot, fueled by a vigour that made Hizashi want to squirm.

The blond placed his phone back on the bedside table, watching with intensity that Shouta didn't seem to notice as he fell back on the bed, one leg hanging off the edge as he let out a huff, eyes closing immediately.

He let his eyes travel: over the very few blemishes and freckles Shouta had; over his scars, each with their own story; over his arms and hands, powerful and thick and stronger than Hizashi could ever dream of; and over his face, distinct and with sharp edges that Hizashi loved to watch soften.

His hand reached over, trailing over a few of those scars, jagged and rough, as he scooted even more into Shouta's personal bubble, who's breathing was steady and peaceful. Calm.

A dark eye cracked open to look at him, and Hizashi looked back, head barely centimetres away and nestled in his palm, elbow digging into the cushion underneath. His finger traced a pattern over Shouta's pectoral, before inching lower and lower. Said man let out a quiet sigh of Hizashi's name, and the blond leaned in, pressed a kiss to the other man's collarbone as his finger traced over the v of Shouta's hips.

"Hizashi, I'm tired."

He let out a chuckle, smiled as he pressed another kiss to Shouta's chest before moving up so as to look into his husbands eyes, a very stark contrast to his hand, which seemed to push even further, test the waters even more. "That's alright, Shou, I'm fine with doing the work." As if to prove himself, his hand finally snuck under the thin material of Shouta's boxers, only for his arm to be grabbed tightly, fingers digging into the flesh of his wrist.

"Hizashi." Shouta was pleading at this point, and Hizashi took in his face properly. Took in his half-lidded eyes, and the upturn of his brows, before sighing himself and pulling his hand back, laying atop Shouta's shoulder in resignation. "Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm just- worked up. And stressed. And I just want to have sex with my husband without something interrupting." 

Said husband made a hum of 'It's fine.' under his breath, eyes practically drifting closed again as he turned to completely face the blond, before pulling at Hizashi's hand and bringing it up to his face so as to press a kiss to the back. An apology of his own, even if there was nothing to apologise for, which there wasn't. Hizashi smiled a little at the warm gesture, though, before letting silence wash over them again, with only the sounds of Shouta's gradually slower and slower breathing filling the room.

He stared, not for the first, nor the last time at his partners sleeping face. Beautiful and soft and tranquil, and finally found the weight of the previous day pulling at his limbs, with Shouta's own sleeping body convincing him to rest, too. 

Their hands stayed link for a while, even after both fell into unconscious.





Living in the dorms isn't that bad, really, especially when the teachers have their own seperate building; because at least there, he gets a break from the now constant barrage of students (though sometimes he thinks Nemuri to be just as bad).

Well. He usually does, anyway.

But it's nice. 

Nice when he can leave the rambunctious, noisy lot that is his first year class this year, in the confines of their building as he returns to his own. To the warmth of his husbands arms, where he's situated right now, in fact.

After the incident a few weeks ago, Shouta has been looking for any opportunity possible to just have some secluded time with Hizashi, long enough for them to get into it and not just have it be sloppy, quick, unsatisfying after so many months.

Like tonight. 

There were no radio shows. No tests to mark. No patrols or hero work after 11pm, at least. 

So, like Shouta intended, he took advantage.

Took advantage by slotting himself into Hizashi's lap, showered and clothed in only loose, black shorts, before kissing the man like his life depended on it. They fit together nicely, and the blond immediately returned the gesture, with more enthusiasm than Shouta ever could, too. 

Hizashi's body was comfortably warm, fitted in the fluffy, pink sweatpants that often flitted between both men without clear owner and another thin shirt. His hands clutched at Shouta's shoulders, before pulling his lips away with a rather wet sound and using the leverage of his position to flip them and press the underground hero into the purple sheets below.

He moved to straddle his waist, and Shouta could feel a feeling stirring at the weight of Hizashi sat atop him. Said blond smiled at him from above, eyes full of affection behind lightly tinted glass as his hands wandered over Shouta's chest, almost in wonder. "And look where everything has brought us, eh, handsome?" A pause. "God, I could stare at your muscles all day." 

He was grinning, slightly mischievous again and Shouta found himself frowning, found himself trying to push upwards while he reached for Hizashi. He didn't want him to stare all day, because, as was most things, he was tired. Tired of waiting, and waiting, and waiting even more.

His husband seemed to notice, and his grin grew inexplicably more, wide and impish. "Hey hey, no need to be impatient, Shouta. As wise men say, patience is virtue." He laughed at his own quote, eyes still roaming around every inch of skin he could see as his tongue darted out from between already wet lips and Shouta followed the movement intently, before realizing what Hizashi had said, and wrinkling his nose in response.

With an amused sigh, Hizashi pressed his weight down against Shouta, heavy and right against his steadfast growing erection. Electric green eyes seemed to darken, pupils dilating as Hizashi pressed down again, and again, seeming to have already forgotten his patience speel.

Slender fingers snaked down, as did Hizashi's body, not hesitating for a second before they slipped inside the confines of Shouta's shorts, but his first thought was of the ring that lay on Hizashi's ring finger, cold and sharp in contrast to the hot, sensitive skin surrounding his dick. He hissed at the sensation, and the blond looked up at him with those eyes, piercing and focused.

His other hand had moved to tug even more at Shouta's shorts, pulling them even further down his legs until nothing but the air and long fingers curling around the base came in contact with his almost completely hard cock. 

Hizashi stilled when he looked down, before smirking unbashfully and swiping a thumb over the slit affectionately. "Looky looky here, already so hard, Shou. Usually it takes a little longer, at least. Guess you must be real turned on, right? Because of me?" He continued to speak as his hand began to move slowly, and Shouta felt like everything was hot and far too sensitive, not really wanting to open his mouth to respond just in case something much more embarrassing than just shaky breaths came out.

Hizashi huffed at the lack of what he was looking for, which was always Shouta's voice, and moved his head to lean down. Shouta stared so hard he felt like his quirk was going to activate; but then the soft sound of knuckles on wood rang through the apartment, and Hizashi just sat up on his knees again, back suddenly far too straight as he glared into the doorway. Shouta definitely did not let out a small wine. "I swear, if that's Nemuri again, I'm going to rip my own hair out." His voice lowered far too much for his usual tone, and Shouta hated how fucking attractive it was, in this moment, with Hizashi's hand still wrapped around him and probably able to feel the physical throb that just happened.

But then another knock came, a little more confident, and this time paired with the loud shout of "Aizawa-sensei!!" and multiple other hushed voices that followed after.

Two words. Two words, and all of tonight was ruined. He could practically feel his erection shrinking far too rapidly at the shout of one of his students. 


Hizashi pulled away with a similar speed, fixed him with a look that was still irritated but much less so than before, and all Shouta could do was drag his hand over his face in exasperation for a moment. "Guess the world really does hate us, huh?" Shouta made a noise as if to say 'obviously', before swinging his legs over the side of the bed, pulling up his shorts and grabbing a shirt too, plodding through the dorm apartment with a little too much stomp considering the moon that shone brightly from high up in the black sky.

Just before he reached the door to open it, he heard Hizashi groan loudly, very loudly, and so very annoyed, too. Shouta wished he could do the same, but unfortunately, he was instead opening the door, at 00:42, according to the clock on his wall, to find himself looking down every single girl from class 1-A, stood in the hallway. Sheepish and dressed in every type of sleepwear possible.

"Yes?" He probably looked just a bit too disheveled, even for him, the hero who brought a sleeping bag to his classrooms, if a few of their apologetic glances were anything to go by. 

"Sorry about bothering you at this time, Aizawa-sensei! It's just-" Yaoyorozu chimed in immediately, though her words faltered at the end as she looked to Jirou, who was stood next to her. He caught her eyes too, for a second, and saw the anger that lay under the surface.

He could feel himself tensing up immediately.

Another silence consumed the hallway again, and he gave a moment for one of the louder students to gather enough courage to speak up again. Indeed, as predicted, Hagakure was the one to break the thick air. "We want to report something. About, um-" 

"About Mineta, sensei." Mina finished for her, and he could feel his fingers tightening around the doorknob instinctively.

He looked into her eyes, too, at the pink skin that seemed a little too puffed up to be normal, then to each and every other of his kids faces, seeing either anger or fear laying under the layers of nervousness. He tried to make his usually stoic aura a little more welcoming, even as he sighed and opened the door more, nodding inside so as to usher all of them in.

This was going to be a long night.





The expulsion process was long, in situations like these. As were reports of harassment. They were extensive, and stressful, and for weeks they had consumed all of Shouta's time.

But he didn't mind. Not after he had seen all of his students hurt faces. Not after he had been surrounded by tears and angry words as they retold what had happened, with cups of homey, soothing hot chocolate that Hizashi had made for everyone in an attempt to console them.

No. It was most definitely worth it. 

Even when he didn't see his husband for almost 3 days straight. Even when, after everything was sorted, and he wanted to just collapse in bed, he was instead dragged to an outing with Nemuri, Tensei and Hizashi. An old group that hadn't been together in months, too, he realised.

Alcohol flooded his system, tainted his vision so that people didn't look like people anymore, and made his feet unsteady enough that he had to lean on Tensei. Though suprisingly, leaning on someone in a wheelchair was hard, and so Nemuri had helped carry him better.

Hizashi would have, he usually did, but he was a bit drunk too.

Shouta was the most hammered, true, but Hizashi shouted something far too crude to be allowed at the waitress, and they had been kicked out accordingly. 

"I can't believe it! Can you believe it?!" The blond's voice was loud, reverberating through the dorm building and causing a few more delicate decorations to vibrate a little too much.

"You've asked us that 17 times already, Hizashi, and every time we have said yes. Now get inside and keep your voice down." Tensei scolded him from the doorway of Nemuri's dorm, though his tone was too bright to be taken too seriously. Hizashi stuck his tongue out in response.

Usually, Hizashi and Shouta went back to their own, but the lift was broken, and the thought of going up a flight of stairs made Shouta feel far too queasy (plus there was Tensei still here, who, he had to keep reminding himself, was still in a wheelchair). And so here he was, head resting on his husband's shoulder as they sat together on the couch, laughing quietly amongst themselves while Tensei and Nemuri were away getting an array of quilts and bottles of water. They were the only drunk ones after all. In fact, they had been the only ones drinking at all, save for a glass of wine that Nemuri had taken, as if the outing and this outcome were planned.

Shouta was too drunk to care, though, especially when he looked up to see the blond next to him leaning in, close and smelling of beer. 

Their lips connected, and Shouta felt even more buzzed than before, hands slipping around Hizashi's waist for stability. The kiss quickly grew sloppy, uncoordinated and far too aggressive for his liking. But then the voice hero was falling back, pulling Shouta with him as his hands grabbed his ass through his trousers and everything was fuzzy, hot, a little disorienting. 

As quickly as the kiss had started, it ended, with the sound of Nemuri coughing sharply, eyes narrowed but mouth curled up in her usual amusement. "I get it, you're drunk and horny and you like to have sex on sofas when I'm around, apparently, but at least sober up first." She chucked two bottles at them, one hitting Shouta in the head while Hizashi caught his. He picked it up from the floor, trying to sit up in the process but not really getting far.

"Or just don't do it all, please. We're still here, guys." Tensei added on with a laugh, a multitude of blankets and pillows in his lap.

Hizashi snorted, struggling to open his bottle and still very intoxicated. "Oh we won't, trust me." He managed to get the lid off, and made a little shout of accomplishment, too loud and too in Shouta's ears, making him curl in on himself in response. 

Tensei handed him a blanket, and he thanked the man, though his words felt slurred, not like they should be. His hands felt around his own water bottle, getting the lid of with much quicker success than Hizashi, downing quite a bit immediately which caused the blond to pout pointedly.

"What's that supposed to mean, Hizashi?" Nemuri mused with a curious lilt to her voice, in a chair opposite them, though he wasn't really listening to what the words were specifically, just muffled noise to him. He looked over at her to try and understand more, and noticed it was only now that he realised she had changed into much more comfortable clothes. 

Shouta wished he could do the same.

"What?" Hizashi questioned, not really sure of what she meant. He spent a few seconds contemplating the question, before a lightbulb went off in his head and he made a strange noise. "We haven't had sex in months, so it's definitely not going to happen here." 

Again, Shouta wasn't really listening to the words, curling up under his blanket and watching as Hizashi huffed, threw himself onto of his blanket with an annoyed face. "Isn't that right, handsome?"

It was a question. Aimed at him, Aizawa Shouta.

All he could register was the word handsome in his slowly sobering brain, but he didn't know how to respond to that. Instead simply frowned, opening his mouth to say 'what', and immediately closing it again when his stomach turned uncomfortably.

Hizashi continued to stare at him for a second, before blowing a raspberry into the air and turning his head to face Nemuri again.

"Oh really."



They continued into their own conversation, and Shouta could feel the weighted heat of the blanket on his limbs soothing him, making his constantly tired body sink into them even more. He turned to Tensei, who just seemed done with Hizashi at this point, if his face was anything to go by, and felt bad. 

As bad as he could, anyway, in his half-asleep, mostly drunken state.

Tonight was nice, a lot less stressful than every other night before it. And he felt pretty warm right now. Comfortable. Safe. Cosy. Even if the distant thought of tomorrow rang prevalent in his brain.

Tomorrow was for tomorrow's Shouta to deal with, though.





Hizashi let out a little gasp when he opened the warn, wooden door - eyes wide as they immediately trailed over every little decoration. From the blue, tall flowers placed atop the black entryway table, to the luscious black rug that he seemed to physically sink into like something much more pliable. He was in awe, simply bathing in the pure luxury that reeked from every single crevice of the room, which itself was far too large and open, painted a lovely deep green-blue that only added to the grandeur.

He felt small and insignificant, like an unbelievably lucky ant, hovering in the doorway with Shouta so close behind that Hizashi could feel his heartbeat against his own back, steady and fast, with only the thin material of his dress shirt to seperate them.

"Holy shit." Was the very first thing that fell from his lips, slipping into the room completely so as to bask in the rich attention to detail that every little thing held. He padded over to the bathroom first, also inexplicably large and covered in white, porcelain tiles and holy shit was that a jacuzzi tub.

The hotel had been Nemuri's idea, a few weeks ago, after he had in drunken gaze confessed the thing that had been bothering him almost non-stop. It was secluded. Distant. Alone. Hell, she had even put in a good name for them both through her own connections, and Hizashi distantly made a mental note to thank her in grand gesture after this was over.

He didn't really want it to be, though.

"Hizashi." His husband called from behind him, voice low in his own stupor, already hovering over the large expanse of the bed which lay right in the middle of the room as a whole, the blatantly extravagant centerpiece which looked painfully soft. "How much did you spend on this place again?"

Hizashi wasn't sure now, brain fuddled in amazement as he turned back around, was once again reminded of the grand walls and fancy furniture. "Not nearly enough, Shouta." Said man just met his eyes, before spinning around where he was stood and flopping dramatically onto the bed with a pleasant sigh. "The bed is so nice." He closed his eyes, as if to make a point, while his body slowly becoming engulfed in velvet pillows and warm, clean sheets. "I might never leave."

The blond laughed, loud and exuberant, before making his way over to his husband and sinking down into the sheets next to him with an even louder noise of approval. "Oh yeah, definitely. Never getting up again, no siree!" He slipped into English, and Shouta let out an amused chuckle at the blond's antics.

Hizashi let his eyes drift over with a dazed smile, watching Shouta's dark lashes flutter gently with every small breath he took. He was dressed in something formal for once, for the restaurant they had visited first, hair done up haphazardly, legs fitted in tight suit trousers and a faint floral dress shirt that did actually in fact belong to Hizashi, but he didn't care, not when Shouta looked so good in it.

He layed and watched for a while, but when Shouta's breathing got just a little bit too slow, too calm, he felt the need to speak up again with a little smile. "Alright, handsome. I get that the bed is comfortable as anything, but you can't go to sleep just yet. Because you and I-" He pushed himself upwards, reaching a hand over to press into the thick, heavy bedsheets on the other side of his husband. "Are going to have sex on every, single, piece of furniture in this room."

Shouta let out an abrupt snort, dark eyes blinking open to look at Hizashi, pupils dilated and swirling with fondness that consumed said blond whole. "Really? Is that so?"

"Mhm." His hand brushed a few stray hands of the underground hero's inky black hair out of his face, close enough that their noses bumped together affectionately. "You're not going to sleep anytime soon, if I have any say in it."

Shouta rolled his eyes, lips quirking in amusement and sarcasm rolling off his tongue languidly. "Oh no." Hizashi chuckled too, at his words, before kissing Shouta and rolling ontop of him so that his own blatantly unbuttoned dress shirt pressed down against the other man's.

Their heartbeats slowly started to match in pace as their lips gradually moved together with more vigour, more heat, more intensity. Hizashi's leg slipped between Shouta's, so that he was practically sat atop that impressively muscled thigh and his husband let out a stuttered breath into his mouth at the movement.

Hizashi pulled away, tongue lapping at his own lips as his hand gripped the duvet beside Shouta's head harshly. "So," He could tell his own voice was dripping with arousal, low and suggestive. "Where do you want to start?" His husband was obviously a little dazed, much to Hizashi's initial enjoyment, and only made a small dismissive grunt in response.

Not good enough.

His leg pressed upwards, his skin tight, pink, highwaisted trousers stretching around his own leg at the movement. "You wanna take me on the bed? So that we can make love like we're old? Or d-"

"We are old, Hizashi."

Said man looked at Shouta with disdain.

"Okay, not on the bed then."

His husband just huffed, nose wrinkling with the small smile that pulled at his affection filled, bloodshot eyes. Hizashi smiled too, sitting up so he could let his gaze wander around the grand hotel room once again. If he thought about it enough, almost everything could be somewhere they could have sex - even the floor, if he forced Shouta too. 

Almost as if he had been reading the blond's thoughts, Shouta spoke up. "You can't be serious, 'Zashi. Why can't we just do it on the bed first, at least." He seemed to be pouting a little, obviously snug where he lay amongst the multitude of pillows and turquoise quilts.

"But we paid for the room, Shou! Let's get a little adventurous!" He wiggled from atop the other man, and bright, determined green eyes met dark-brown, equally as focused, undeterred in their stance. A staring match of which Shouta always won, every single time without fail. Dark brows furrowed against pale skin, as his husbands eyes started to move across his face. Thinking. Considering.

He eventually came to a conclusion, it seemed. But it wasn't the one Hizashi wanted.

He was suddenly pushed upwards and flipped over with far too much ease, thrown much higher up on the large expanse of the hotel bed and pinned down into the sheets by both Shouta's strong (so strong) hips and by his thick, calloused hands, which held each of his arms tightly. Hizashi couldn't stop the loud, involuntary intake of air at the show of strength, before practically cooing at the man atop him. "Oh ho ho, getting handsy are we, handsome?" 

Said comment went ignored.

"On the bed first." The authoritative tone of hie husband's voice paired with the harsh grip of fingers and thighs around his limbs made Hizashi want to shiver, to have blood rush shouth instinctively. Which it did, because holy fuck Shouta's voice would always, always, make him feel a certain sort of way.

He looked up at those infinitely deep irises with mischievous eyes of his own, though, unable to contain his excitement. "Yes sir. Whatever you say." 

Everything seemed to tense in the air aswell as in the others muscles as Shouta regarded his statement. His jaw was pulled taught, eyes fixed dead on Hizashi's mouth as if in slight shock.

"What is it, handsome? Got a problem?" He giggled a bit, hips bucking upwards so that they met flush with the tightening front of Shouta's trousers.

"Yes. You." His husband deadpanned the words, legs tightening around his own and head bowing down into the exposed crook of his neck. Hizashi tilted his head to give better access, loose blond hair pressing into the pillow as he relished happily when Shouta sucked at the sensitive skin there: scraped over what was bound to be a new blemish with his teeth. 

"But whatever did I do wrong?" Prying, searching as he threw his hips up again, to which Shouta pressed down against him, heady and strong. 

"You know what, Hizashi."

"No, no. I don't. Tell me. How else am I supposed to learn?"

Maybe it was the fact it had been so many months and they were both desperate, clingy, far too excited if their gradually much more heated grinding against each other was anything to go by, but Shouta moved to his ear, nipping and biting and speaking in that low beautiful baritone. "Like you could learn anything if I tell you it, 'Zashi. You're just lucky that all I can think about is doing it with you already, otherwise I'd have commented on your choice words." 

Hizashi felt like he was melting against the bed, pinned down so hard that he was physical becoming one with the object. Shouta didn't have a voice quirk, not at all, yet the blond swore he could practically feel the words reverberating through his body as if it were his own quirk. 

Speaking of which, it had pitched Hizashi's voice a few notches higher when he let out a pleased noise, almost completely hard as Shouta rutted against him with purpose in every thrust. Powerful legs had tangled with his own, and Hizashi clung to them easily, foot hooked behind his husband's calf so tightly that it felt like it might break.

Usually, Hizashi had to pick and prod at Shouta like he was a complex jigsaw puzzle to get him this interested, but the confirmation that the other hero was just as desperate as himself for this after so long was reassuring, comforting.

"What exactly are you thinking about, then, Shouta? Because I know what I'm thinking about. I'm thinking about your cock and how easily I can feel it against my thigh, and god do I want it so bad. So bad, Shou. I might get off just thinking about it, I have before. A lot. It's just so good when it's in me, and I've missed it, and please just do something already-" 

He had rambled easily, words jumbling together towards pleads in the end, and throughout his speel they had picked up pace, both sporting very clearly growing erections as they jutted against the other as if it were a lifeline.

After which, Shouta scrambled backwards, eyes dark and fingers a little shaky as they released his wrists to move down, deftly trying to unbutton the trousers that confined his dick. He got caught on even the first one though, obviously perplexed by why it wasn't undoing like a usual button would, and even in his wanton state, Hizashi couldn't help the amused chuckle that left his chest.

He helped Shouta out, and as he hastily pulled the now sweaty pink material down off his body, along with his boxers, his husband moved to his own shirt and belt, slipping them both off and throwing them behind him without care.

They immediately met for a kiss, a lot sloppier and full of accumulated desperation as Hizashi was once again pushed to the bed, arms wrapped tightly around the other mans neck so his hands could pull loose his hairtie and bury themselves in thick, coarse black hair. He tugged and Shouta grunted against his mouth, his own hands kneading against Hizashi's newly exposed thighs. 

They parted, mouths wet and partially swollen, before Shouta impatiently scooted back on the bed so as to have a good view of Hizashi. The blond grinned, before spreading his legs, torso still partially covered by his open dress shirt as he purposely presented himself to his husband, even though there was definitely no need. "Like what you see, baby?" 

The pet name that only ever slipped out during these moments (read: sex) caused Shouta to make an involuntary, brief sound from his throat, as he stared in wonder at every inch of his husband, beautiful and golden and far too good for the world. "You're breathtaking, Hizashi. How could I not?" It was barely a murmur, as he pressed a kiss to Hizashi's freckled hip bone - and if it weren't for his hearing aids that still lay attached to his ears, Hizashi might not have heard it. 

Shouta reluctantly pulled away further, hastily getting off the bed so as to look around for some lube, and maybe some condoms, too, and then planning to return to his husband as quickly as possible. Said man laid back against the pillows, suddenly much colder than before as he watched Shouta's muscles ripple as he walked. 


The underground hero looked through the bedside drawers, only to find nothing, and made an annoyed sound at the predicament. Hizashi furrowed his brows in thought, "Check the bathroom, maybe?" Shouta looked over at him, at his splayed out body, warm and enticing just for him, contemplating just ignoring the items all together, before resigning himself to plodding over to the bathroom like suggested. He needed them, after all.

Hizashi watched him walk away with intensity, eyeing his ass still accentuated by those tight trousers, and couldn't help the hand that slid down down his own body, across lean muscles and faint scars until it wrapped around himself.

His movements were lax, slow, as he waited from Shouta to return. He pictured those muscles against his own, face flushed just how Hizashi liked it and his hand sped up, twisting on the upward travel enough to draw out a long groan that he couldn't hold back.

He bucked up a few times into his fast moving fist now, as the other one traveled around his exposed body. He pictured it to be Shouta's when he kneeded at his skin, when he gripped his soft hair, though his fingers were much too lanky, too thin compared to the thickness of his husband's. They just weren't right.

At some point, he could distantly hear the pad of feet against carpeted floor, and looked up only to catch the rapidly darkening gaze of Shouta, who had returned with a bottle of lube in hand. "Hey, handsome, how's it-" he had to pause, as a strangled breath escaped his lips when his hand moved in just the right way, "- going?"

There was no response, only heavy breathing and hums of pleasure from Hizashi as he continued to stare at Shouta, continued to watch his face and his eyes, which were very pointedly not matching his own gaze.

"Oh fuck me."

He tried to laugh, but it was much lighter than usual, airy but also guttural at the same time. "Ah, yknow- I was really hoping it would be the other round, at first. But we can do that after, if you want." Finally, those dark eyes looked up enough to meet his own, and Hizashi bit his lip, speeding up his hand and letting out an unbashful moan.

Shouta seemed to immediately snap out of his trance, stomping over to the bed and almost aggressively pulling Hizashi's legs so that they hung off the edge. Said blond yelpled in suprise, finally releasing his grip and just letting the other man move him however he'd like. He slid easily across the sheets, and Shouta chucked the little bottle next to him on the bed after coating his fingers in the substance, before proceeding to wrap said fingers around Hizashi's cock so hard he thought it would burst.

"Agh! It's cold, Shouta! Don't be so aggressive!" 

His husband just leveled him with a look that said "you deserve it", and Hizashi, after claiming down, eventually grinned back rougishly. "You can't just do that." Shouta's hand started to move, slowly and with purpose as his knee rested on the bed next to the blond's so as to hover over Hizashi almost intimidatingly.

"Do what?" The blond returned, raspy and mischievous, and if you heard his voice alone, it would never elude to his disheveled state: with blond hair that stuck to his flushed skin and uncovered green eyes that swam with lust.

"Start without me." Shouta's fingers dragged over his skin, making a slick sound from the lube and Hizashi tilted his head to the side, letting out a low cooing noise. "I can't help it, handsome. You're just so hot and I'm so turned on just thinking about you." He accentuated his point by bucking up into Shouta's fist, which was tight enough that it pulled so very pleasantly when his hips fell back to the bed.

His husband stilled with a heated glare, and Hizashi watched with intrigue when the hand that wasn't gripping him teasingly moved to press the blond's hips into the bed, to hold him down with ease that made Hizashi want to squirm under his weight. "And you think I'm not? Hizashi, I'm trying very hard right now to stay calm. So you can't just look like that."

Struggling against the hand that pinned him down now, he wished for Shouta to just move again, to pair his deep, rumbling words that made every inch of Hizashi's being buzz with the steady movement of scarred, calloused hands. 

Now, Hizashi wasn't always mischievous during sex, but there was something about pushing his husband in just the right way, irritating him and his usually stoic exterior enough that he used those worked, strong fucking muscles and took control. So, with an impish smirk, he spread his legs out as much as possible, until his left leg brushed against Shouta's: ghosted his fingers across his chest teasingly and relished as Shouta's gaze followed the movement closely.

"Like this?" His voice was sultry, eyes half lidded and back arching against thick, velvety sheets ever so slightly when the pads of his fingers pinched at his own nipples harshly.

Shouta let out a low groan from his throat that echoed through the large room so very wonderfully, in Hizashi's opinion. He leant down to scrape his teeth against his ear with a dark gaze, clothed yet painfully prominent erection rubbing against the blond's exposed thigh and hand starting to move once more around him. Faster than before, less controlled. 

"Yes." Shouta's voice reverberated through the blond man's ears, gruff and sultry in it's own right and Hizashi could already feel his body reacting positively, arching up more into his husband instinctively. "When you look like that, it makes it really hard to not just fuck you so hard that neither of us can move. Right now, without any prep. And you don't want that, do you, Hizashi?"

He had already crumbled underneath his husband even before the last few words, after which his hands immediately left his own chest to grab at Shouta's exposed back, bucking upwards and both pressing his almost excruciatingly hard cock into that fast paced fist as well as his thigh into that distractingly large tent of Shouta's trousers. "Maybe I do. Maybe i just, really, really want your cock inside me this second."

His husband pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his jaw before he pulled away with a low, unfiltered smirk, rolling his hips against Hizashi's thigh in the process of situating himself higher than his husband. "Really?" He was obviously feeling a little playful too, if the harsh tightening around Hizashi's dick was anything to go by. "Are you sure about that, baby?"

Oh fuck him.

Pet names coming from Shouta's mouth was like a baby saying proper words for the first time: rare and special and Hizashi wanted to praise him until his ears turned redder than his eyes and his cock grew harder than his tensed muscles; which, at this moment in time, Hizashi could feel grinding slowly against his thigh suggestively, girthy and harshly straining against the material of his trousers.

He thought of it, pounding into him without care, and let out an quiet but unbashful moan. It was already clear that Hizashi, unlike his husband, was much, much easier to break. "No- god, fuck, I don't, it's just that your dick is so good and I really fucking want it. Please, ShouI've had to use only my own fingers for so many months. And they're not good enough 'cause everytime I think of yours. They're so much better, please-"

Begging in moments like these came naturally to the blond, and almost every single time, Shouta ended up being far too weak willed himself when it came to his husband, who pleaded with sweaty, pink-tinted skin and sharp, lust-clouded green eyes.

This time was no exception.

He finally released Hizashi's cock, which stood tall and red against his pale stomach, before plucking the bottle of lube that he had discarded earlier from the between the multitude of pillows. Shouta hastily squeezed a generous amount on his fingers once more, and Hizashi could feel himself taking a sharp intake of air, even before his husband moved from where he was still kneeling above the blond. 

Dark irises looked down at him as Shouta reached down, past Hizashi's aching hard-on, and said man immediately spread even further out enticingly, bringing his right foot up so as to balance on the mattress next to him rather than the floor. He could feel eyes raking over every inch of his body again, and Hizashi felt smug, giddy, excited. 

But then the tip of Shouta's finger was barely pressing inside of him, and he tensed, arched his back and let out a very small, quiet hiss through his teeth at the familiar yet now also foreign feeling. The other hand moved to caress Hizashi's hip bone soothingly, still perched atop his left thigh with a pleasant weight. "This doesn't work if you don't relax, you know."

"I know, I know, handsome. I've just been waiting for this for so long." He finally melted against the bed with a shaky sigh when Shouta pushed in even further, until his knuckle came flush against Hizashi's ass. The cold, slick feeling of lube made the blond want to squirm, but then his husband was pulling out and pressing back in in one fluid movement. 

Methodical, that's how Shouta always was, at first. Controlled and harsh and purposeful with every push and pull of his finger in a way that stretched every bit of control Hizashi had left at this point. Because Shouta was searching. Searching for that spot that would make the blond unravel splendidly in his grasp.

"Fuck, fuck - Shouta. Babe. C'mon, add another finger. I'm so fucking hot and your hands are so fucking good." Hizashi pushed himself down onto Shouta's index as he pleaded, his own hands desperately reaching up to his husband's face in an attempt pull him closer, to invade his personal space with heated moans and bated breaths.

Shouta grinned at him from above, toothy and affectionate as the hand that wasn't inside of Hizashi moved to tuck golden hair away from his flushed face. The blond leaned into the touch, nuzzled against his palm and tried to keep his breathing calm when all Shouta did was curl his singular finger upwards. 

"Shoutaaa-" He looked up into Shouta's half-focused eyes, mouth pulled into a pout and fingers leaving feather light touches over his scruff beard; his jagged scar; his chapped lips, of which he did linger when the other hero pressed a kiss to Hizashi's thumb; darted out his tongue and lapped it over the blond's own slightly calloused digits - though for different reasons than Shouta's. Hizashi let out a low pitched whine. "Please, baby. More, more."

Hizashi had completely slipped his thumb into Shouta's mouth now, hot against his tongue as those half-lidded eyes darkened, raked over the blond's face with blatant desire. Shouta smiled at him from around his finger, once again with a little too much tooth as he paused in his movements, before teasingly pressing his middle finger into Hizashi, slow and purposeful. "Like this?"

The blond nodded almost vigorously in response, hair tangling in the sheets underneath him and teeth biting at his own lips. Shouta started to pump his fingers in and out of Hizashi once again, spreading them out in a scissoring motion and curling or twisting them both when surrounded by clenched, tight walls. Hizashi blatantly tried to push even further onto Shouta's hand whenever he did, fingers moving to tightly grasp black hair and mouth opening in suprisingly loud gasps or words of praise that made the other hero move his fingers even faster, grind down against him even harsher, desperately trying to quench his own overflowing desire.

Then, when Shouta finally hit Hizashi's prostate for the first time in months, the blond let out a rumbling moan that vibrated the air around them. The sound was quieter than it could be, from his desperate attempt to subdue it much like every other pleased sound he had made before, but it was still strong, potent in the room in which even normal sounds bounced off every wall, every crevice. 

Shouta pressed himself into the crook of Hizashi's neck to hide his own flushed face at the sound, and the blond pulled him closer, bared his soft, vulnerable neck for him to claim possessively.

Shouta did it without hesitation, and Hizashi moaned, clenched around his fingers enticingly.

"Oh god, Shouta. Please, please, pleaseee do it again. I'm begging you. You'll do it, won't you? Please, for me? It always feels so good when you do it, baby." 

Now, Shouta wasn't the one with a voice kink here - no, that was and always had been Hizashi - but when the blond's voice was still on the edge of that rumbling sound from before, quirk becoming unhinged and just barely out of control like it occasionally did during sex, Shouta couldn't help but love it, couldn't help but give in to every plea that filled his ears.

The praise might have helped, too.

"Yes, yes. I'll do it, 'Zashi." He mumbled it against the marks he had left on the other man's neck, and he could practically see his pleased grin. Sometimes (read: most of the time), Shouta loved how vocal his husband could be, and this was no exception, as, when he grazed over the other man's prostate again, he let out a rough, purr-like sound that made him grind down against Hizashi's thigh instinctively. He hit that spot again, and again, until Hizashi was turning his head with a harsh tug of his hair so their lips would meet and smother every sound the blond made, which Shouta then swallowed greedily.

At one point, he even added his ring finger to the mix, and the cold metal of his wedding ring made Hizashi squirm with a light, airy laugh; until Shouta aggressively hit his prostate with all three fingers, and Hizashi stilled, mouth open in a loud, abrasive gasp of "Oh my god. Fuck- shit- Shouta." against his lips.

"I want to fuck you so bad." Shouta spurted out, eyes raking over every inch of Hizashi in awe. He knew his voice was filled with affection, lust, desire, but the positively breathtaking moan Hizashi made at the words caused him to shiver, to groan low and gruff against his mouth in approval.

The blond somehow seemed even more turned on by that noise.

"Yes, holy shit, yes. Fuck me 'til I can't walk, Shou. Tell me all the nasty things you wanna do to me. 'Cause I have a list. And right at the top is your dick, inside me, right now." He seemed breathless, teeth biting at Shouta's swelling lips and hands moving down from his hair to scratch at his back, to dig his nails into the skin there with a sharp sting. His right leg had started to bounce up and down on the bed, and his back arched upwards into Shouta.

Said man pulled even further up, until there was about a head of space between him and Hizashi's flushed, red face, which contorted in a small pout at the action. "I couldn't find a condom earlier." He had forgotten to say it before, after returning from the bathroom, for he was too distracted by Hizashi's face, Hizashi's hands, Hizashi's cock. Now, his movements just slowed significantly, brows furrowing together and fingers still pressing roughly inside Hizashi even without the speed from before.

"Ah." The blond's own eyebrows seemed to pull together, for a second, as if he were thinking, before he just shrugged as best as he could from his position, mouth twisting up into another smile, though much more mischievous than before. "That's fine. We'll just have to be a little more skin on skin. A little more intimate." He wiggled his hips, and Shouta rolled his eyes. Hizashi laughed. "And anyhow, I'm fine. You're fine too, surely, considering the only people we have sex with is each other. Well - not even each other anymore, really, but you catch my drift."

Shouta nodded slightly, thinking of his dick, surrounded by those walls that clenched around his fingers when he moved them again, but this time without any barrier between the two things. His mouth was suddenly just a bit too dry. "What's on the rest of your list then, Hizashi?"

Said man's smile turned a little impish, eyes looking up at him with rougish intent as he licked his lips. "That's a secret you'll have to find out eventually, baby." Shouta huffed outwards at his husband's playful demeanor, scissoring his fingers one last time and relishing in the shaky breath Hizashi released. He finally pulled his fingers out with a wet sound, and watched, rapt, as his husband's pupils dilated rapidly. "Best get to fucking you, then, shouldn't I?" He delivered it, sultry and raspy and with a grin that he knew probably wasn't that attractive compared to his words, but Hizashi's intense gaze followed the movement anyway, and he found he didn't really care.

All he could feel were those electric green eyes on him as he hastily got off the bed, as he finally popped the straining button on his suit trousers and as he kicked the now annoying material off, along with his stained underwear in the same motion. He looked over towards Hizashi through dark, thick lashes, and watched as he scooted even further onto the bed, spread his legs just that bit more apart and let out a low coo as he blatantly took in every inch of his body, lingering specifically on his now aching dick. Shouta stilled, suddenly feeling a little too exposed, a little too cold against the mild air of the hotel room.

"If you stand there any longer, Shou, I'm going to start putting on a show." He tilted his head with a raised brow, smirking and letting his golden hair fall around his shoulders beautifully. As if to accentuate his point, a lanky hand slowly started to make it's way down his body as he continued to stare directly at Shouta, who, after a second, scrambled far too fast onto the bed in an attempt to get to the man first.

He hated, sometimes, how jealous he felt of Hizashi's own hands.

Said man chuckled a little at the action, before falling backwards onto the thick sheets and watching with intense gaze as Shouta reached over, picked up the bottle of lube once more. He poured the slick substance onto his hands and, without thinking much, hurriedly reached down to wrap them around his cock, only to gasp almost too loud at the sudden cold contact. His erection throbbed in his grip, neglected and sensitive as he moved against it, dragged and twisted his hand just like he had been earlier so as to coat it in the lube.

There were suddenly legs, long and warm, wrapping around his middle and yanking him in, and his hands hastily let go, so as to grip the blond's hips for stability. Their dicks lay together against their flush bodies, hot and heavy and Shouta once again felt far too hot, too needy, too sensitive.

"Shouta-" He felt even more so than heard Hizashi's voice vibrate through his own lean chest, teetering on the edge of that rumbling sound once again. "I need it. I need it. C'mon, handsome. Give it to me. I'm so fucking done with waiting already." He was babbling rapidly, tightening his legs and grabbing at his broad shoulders with shaky fingers too. Each word felt like another hot needle against his skin, and Shouta didn't even want to think about teasing some more, because much like Hizashi, he was tired of waiting, too.

He pressed his forehead to the blond's lean chest, nuzzled lightly against pale skin and looked down between their bodies, before reaching down between them so as to help line his dick up properly. Shouta's knees were digging into the mattress as he pushed forward, black hair sticking to every piece of skin it could find and lips pressed so tightly together that it felt like they would melt into one singular thing. He could feel heavy breaths against the top of his head, each one full to the brim with burbling noises and echoing pleas.

"Shit." Shouta hissed the curse through his teeth when he finally bottomed out within Hizashi, hot and twitching and so fucking tight around him. His nails dug into those fleshy hips and his mouth latched onto a pink nipple, biting and lapping at the small bud until Hizashi was arching up against him with his head thrown back against the bed, red tainted neck on display deliciously.

Those lanky fingers seized his shoulders with a deadly grasp when he pulled out, before then pushing back in with a force that made Hizashi's back drag against the sheets in a pleasant friction. He repeated the harsh movement again, and again, and again; slower, at first, but gradually gaining speed, gradually tugging at Hizashi's insides more and more with every minuscule motion.

The blond felt full, mouth opening and closing rapidly in a silent motion as he desperately tried to keep the bubbling in his chest down, tried to control the burning sensation in his throat that meant his quirk was vibrating against his own vocal cords. But he was struggling. Struggling to ignore the sound of Shouta's deep, throaty groans or the slam of strong, powerful hips against his own. It was all too much. Too overwhelming. Too much of a sensory overload.

And then Shouta's cock was grazing over the edge of his prostate, giving him a teasing glimpse at the pleasure that could wrack his entire body, and everything collapsed, practically disintegrated as if had never been there in the first place. His quirk starting slipping out, reverberating through his body (and also everything else, though he didn't notice that much) in ripples that reached even the end of his curled toes, and soon enough words joined them, babble on babble on babble, jumbled and slurred together and it was a wonder Shouta understood any of it at all.

"Please, please, please. Your cock is so, so, so fucking good. Fucking fuck. But I need more. More. Until I can't think, Shou. Please. Please." He felt like screaming when Shouta moved upwards, smothered the sounds of his begging with hot, wet lips and his own loud (though barely so when compared to the blond), uncontrolled mess of "Hizashi. Hizashi.".

The other hero's movements became even faster, somehow - different, in how he couldn't seem to put as much purpose into every thrust, but faster, needier, a much more desperate representation of his racing thoughts. He did, also, find Hizashi's prostate again, hitting it head on in such a way that the blond seemed to physically melt against his husband, pulling him in and spewing out moans and words of "Good. So good, Shouta. Oh my god. Oh my god. You're so good. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." against his swollen lips.

Each new phrase made Shouta's heart pound against his chest, with the repeated phrase of "good, good, good" seeming to pierce right through his sex-fogged head. And he knew he was keening in response, biting and nipping at every piece of soft flesh his teeth could find in a strange haze: from Hizashi's lips, to his jaw, his ear, his neck, marking each spot with both sharp grazes and soft kisses.

Everything felt hot, sweaty between their tangled limbs and flushed skin: with the inherently lewd sound of skin hitting skin ringing through the large, grand room that neither thought much of, now, in their worlds consisting of only them both.

Hizashi was whining, pleading and begging with every shallow breath he took, and Shouta slipped a hand down between them to wrap around the blond's dick, fast and sloppy in his haste when he began to move. His hips faltered, stuttering in their pace when Hizashi clenched around him as if he were trying to squeeze every fibre of life from his being, which he might have been, really.

Suddenly, all the babbling had stopped, and the thick air grew lacking of Hizashi's voice. His muscles had tensed harshly, mouth opening and closing rapidly in gasp after gasp, and Shouta sped up his hand even more, pressed the blond into the thick, turquoise sheets with his hips.

"C'mon, 'Zashi." He urged the blond on with a purposeful tightening of his grip, pressed a kiss to his jaw and his husband seemed to arch his back, eyelids almost closing as pleas of "Shouta, Shouta, Shouta" rang through his ears. He felt Hizashi throb in his hand, his final indicator before the feeling of thick, mildy warm cum spilled out across both of their stomachs. 

Shouta was still continuing in his movements though, pushing into Hizashi harshly at an irregular pace with his hips. Those walls continued to clench around him as the blond splayed out across the bed, gasping heavily and still moaning, breathy from the overstimulation of Shouta's dick continuing to drag over his prostate. "Come on, baby. You can do it."

Shouta bit at his now definitely swollen lips with a groan, so very, very close as buried himself in that pale neck once again. Hizashi's ankles locked around his back, digging into the skin and holding him close with purpose as he dragged a hand through his coarse hair, pushed himself down onto his cock with the last remnants of his coherent abilities. "Be good and fill me up, Shouta. C'mon. Please."

And that was all it took, as Shouta had already found himself slipping at the word "good". He stilled, limbs shaking slightly as they held onto the blond with a tight grasp before he came, spilling into Hizashi with a loud moan against his collarbone. His hips made a few final thrusts, before his entire body seemed to collapse, falling against the blond with another heavy sigh.

They laid like that for a while, still tangled together as they caught their breaths and gave in to the pleasant ache of their muscles. Hizashi unhooked his legs from around Shouta's waist, and said man made the effort to actually pull out of the blond, before simply falling against the man again, arms still wrapped around his torso.

The weight against him was pleasant, though, as Shouta nuzzled into his neck: and he couldn't help but grin, still running his fingers through inky black hair. "That's it, Shou." He paused, before leaning even more into his husband teasingly. Time for number 4 on his list, he decided, as he tugged on Shouta's hair a little and the man looked up at him through thick lashes. His grin grew, voice dripping with the playful edge from earlier.

"Good boy."

Shouta seemed to tense immediately, face somehow flushing even darker than before as he ducked his head again, desperately trying to burrow it into Hizashi's neck in embarrassment.

He hated how much two words could stir him, even after all of that.

"Shut up, Hizashi." His voice was raspy, gutteral from moaning so much, and said man just chuckled, light and airy despite how much his heart throbbed, full much like everything else and almost overflowing with affection. 

He could feel it however, the small dribble of something thick and warm against his thigh. It made him look up to the ceiling of their hotel room with a now lazy smile, hair tangled against his sweaty skin and messy sheets. "That was so fucking good, though, Shouta. I really needed it, y'know." 

Shouta hummed a small quiet noise of approval, and Hizashi let his thoughts wander, drifting and floating about in the pleasantly soft clouds that filled his head.

"So.." He started, with a playful tilt that made Shouta want to huff immediately, without even hearing the rest. It probably deserved it. "Which piece of furniture did you want to do it on next? 'Cause I think I've got a few rounds left in me, Shou."

He was right, it did deserve a huff, an exasperated one that Shouta put maybe a bit too much effort into. Hizashi just, smiled at him, bright and wide and warm.

Shouta stared for a while, before smiling himself, small and pulling at his eyes affectionately.

"You can choose, this time."

"Oh ho ho. That was a bad idea, handsome, because now I'm gonna pick something real weird, just for the sake of it."

He rolled his eyes at the blond, who just laughed again, loud and right in his ear.

Sometimes - read: all the time - Shouta really did love his husband.