❰轟焦凍❱ TODOROKI SHOUTO (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
codominant) wrote2018-10-07 10:37 pm
codominant) wrote2018-10-07 10:37 pm
@ pacifisting
[a few hasty bandaids over a profusely bleeding wound, that's probably all this is — but it stems the tide long enough for things to return to almost-normal by the time Monday rolls around. Todoroki has, as expected, recuperated from his hangover in the cool, dark, silent and blissful solitude in his room and sworn off consumption of clear Russian liquids for the foreseeable future, and seeing Midoriya in the morning is... well]
[they don't talk about it. and he doesn't want to. hopes to never, in fact, if he's allowed to have his way. there are a few times throughout the week he thinks he feels his gaze lingering on him a little too long, asking questions he doesn't have answers to (or doesn't want to), pushing his lunch around pensively as he thinks of a way to broach the topic when they're alone]
[in that, too, he gives him fewer opportunities for a while. Uraraka and Iida, oblivious as they are, make for pretty good buffers]
[...until he can't anymore, until there's blood leaking from his nose and his swollen, broken bottom lip, his back planted into the asphalt of an evacuated street by a giant's fist he wasn't fast enough to dodge, knocking the breath and the consciousness right out of him]
[when he comes to after the fight is over and Musutafu is, once again, safe, the only color he sees is — ]
Mi...dori...
[his voice is rough with pain or maybe screaming, a part of his body warm that usually isn't. is this... weight?]
[they don't talk about it. and he doesn't want to. hopes to never, in fact, if he's allowed to have his way. there are a few times throughout the week he thinks he feels his gaze lingering on him a little too long, asking questions he doesn't have answers to (or doesn't want to), pushing his lunch around pensively as he thinks of a way to broach the topic when they're alone]
[in that, too, he gives him fewer opportunities for a while. Uraraka and Iida, oblivious as they are, make for pretty good buffers]
[...until he can't anymore, until there's blood leaking from his nose and his swollen, broken bottom lip, his back planted into the asphalt of an evacuated street by a giant's fist he wasn't fast enough to dodge, knocking the breath and the consciousness right out of him]
[when he comes to after the fight is over and Musutafu is, once again, safe, the only color he sees is — ]
Mi...dori...
[his voice is rough with pain or maybe screaming, a part of his body warm that usually isn't. is this... weight?]
no subject
[and then similarly wobbles to Midoriya, raising a hand towards him, and — ]
[hesitating, unsure what to do with it, where to touch...]
[he'd fought, too. Todoroki wonders where — if — it hurts, and so lowers his hand back down to his own side, red and white eyelashes low as his gaze trails down to... lips he thinks might be split under all that dirt]
[lower than before:] Be fast. You should be the last thing I see.
todoroki uses fluster, it's super fucking effective
[ Midoriya's tone is gently teasing despite the exasperated little shake of his head. He'd do the exact same damn thing in Todoroki's position so he can't really blame him, but he wants to fuss and usher him into bed so he'll feel better.
Rather than arguing it any further, he watches Todoroki make his way over, absolutely not withering away inside at the way he's making his way around the room. He wants to offer to grab things, wants to help but bites it all back through sheer force of will which is for the best because he's not entirely sure he wouldn't have made a noise when Todoroki reaches out to him. The hand lowers and Midoriya's own twitches like he wants to, but...
An apology is on his lips for being so dirty and then Todoroki says that. This time there's no hiding the noise, a strangled thing that spills from his throat, cheeks, and ears burning under the dirt. ] I — You.
[ Nailed it. ] You cannot just say things like that and — it's so much, I need to shower.
[ One big stupid grin at Todoroki and then he ducks in taking the quickest possible shower while still getting himself clean. He absolutely doesn't take a moment to catalog what kind of shampoos and conditioner Todoroki uses because that's weird but the moment he reads the title he knows he's going to remember it.
The hot water aches over the cuts and bruises but comparatively, he got off easy. As soon as he's done, he dries off as quick as he can and steals mouthwash if there is any in lieu of brushing his teeth. Now, at least, he feels marginally more human and slowly eases the door back open. Maybe Todoroki will have fallen asleep. ]
the midoriya escaped before the pokeball was even thrown.... impressive
[it's no mystery to him that he has a tendency to be a little too intense sometimes; he's... weird, he knows, often fixates on a concept or an act of rebellion or a goal to the point of obsession. that kind of thing... can scare people away or ice them out, he's beginning to discover]
[that's the last thing he wants with Midoriya, though. and that's where the fear sets in, where the distrust in himself doesn't quite belive the words we wouldn't let it. sometimes... he just had no damn self-control, and drunk or not, it's the worst around Midoriya]
[hell, sometimes he is his self-control, the good conscience on his shoulder]
[...he shouldn't like that thought as much as he does. it's probably — unhealthy. right?]
Ah. [no such luck. he's sitting up in his futon, a blanket around his lap and still no shirt on, when the bathroom door opens, feeling even more tired now, which has less to do with the passing of time and more with his own thoughts ransacking what's left of his emotional tolerance]
[... but he's committed to this, for better or worse, and scoots closer to the wall as he pats the bedding, making room for company]
Here.
it's not ACTUALLY running away cuz you're flustered if you come back, midoriya repeatedly tells hims
[ It's only in the shower that he starts to wonder if he hadn't been clear, too flustered to think of a coherent response that wasn't asking to kiss him while he was filthy and hadn't brushed his teeth. If Todoroki is asleep, they'll handle it in the morning, he thinks, but as it turns out Todoroki is awake and — still not wearing a shirt. Alright. He's seen Todoroki shirtless countless times from the group baths during camp ages ago to the times he's burned his shirts away but.
He's totally cool and totally fine. Giving his hair one final furious scrub with a hand to try and get out any last bit of water before he comes over, Midoriya smiles again. It's not the dopey grin from before, flustered and pleased and all teeth. This one is warmer though it's ruined a moment later by a massive yawn. To the futon, then, carefully picking his way over and going to his knees. ]
Is there anything I should get before?
[ There's a slightly mortifying moment where a part of him hopes Todoroki doesn't say shirt which he violently shoves down because he honestly did mean water or a phone charger or something. ]
whatever helps you sleep at night, buddy...... (in his bed)
[and we're back to blasé. there's a hand that reaches for and grabs Midoriya's wrist, giving it a tug to usher him into the blankets, lifted up tossed over both of their bodies. he'd managed to finish off the food that was brought to him in the interim of that shower, at least, the evidence of it piled up in a shelf near the bed, all things that can be dealt with later]
[the only task he wants in front of him right now is this one]
[...but there's also no protocol he knows how to rely on for this. no experiences that have come before, no manual; the closest he's even slept to another person happening only this year during their summer training in the forest, a memory soured by failure and loss]
[and he's never...]
[he's never even liked someone like this before. what the hell is he supposed to do? laying stiffly on his back at his side, inches between them, his right towards Midoriya putting him in a profile of silver and moonlight, he... stares at the ceiling... and breaks the silence after a few long moments:]
...Is it weird...?
[it's weird, isn't it...]
midoriya slowly combusts
Todoroki just lays down like it's nothing, like the last few hours either didn't happen. Maybe it's just that he is really tired and finally they're both settled so he feels like he can fall asleep. Then again, if he's this worked up about it, he has a feeling that Todoroki might be too, which means stepping carefully, thinking about what he says before he says it. Heroes have to do this all the time, they have to know what to say and how to say it.
The moment Todoroki speaks, Midoriya rolls over onto his side, propping himself up to look at him. ]
I had dirt and probably some blood in my mouth. [ Dying honestly might've been easier than this, but he pushes through. Plus Ultra. ] Earlier.
[ Breathe in, attempt two. It's still rushed, but he's got that same determined face he gets when facing down a particularly complex Quirk. ] When you reached out, all I could think was that I really wanted to ask to kiss you again, but I wasso gross. If you don't want to, it's alright, but I was also going to ask if it was alright to sleep touching you. I mean I probably will already, I move around a lot you can push me away if you need—
oh.... bye, deku
[he only blushes to one side, the color too buried beneath his scar, but standing stark against the pales. is it fair of him to put all the impetus on Midoriya like this? to let him take full responsibility in instigating... whatever comes next?]
It's alright. [it wouldn't sit well with him; he can't just be a passive bystander to his own emotions]
[his hand slips from his mouth, away from how it's as soft as he remembers and the heat of his breath, fingertips instead trailing over freckled cheeks he can admire in the low light, where his damp hair clings to the skin near his ear... slowly, foreign, like he's learning how to do it for the first time, clumsy and naive]
[and then hooks lightly in the nape of his neck to guide him down, malleable and accepting]
It's alright.
no subject
Alright that he wants to? Alright that he's going to move around in his sleep?
Todoroki's fingers drift away before he can decide what he's doing and he almost mourns the loss except Todoroki doesn't pull away. Fingers drift over him his face and Midoriya's stomach abruptly goes full of butterflies all over again. It's alright, Todoroki repeats and that combined with the hand at the nape of his neck brings a pleased oh to his lips. He goes down easily, doing his level best to remember not to mash his nose into Todoroki's, or to tip over and smack their heads together.
It's not the optimal position to do this in, so gingerly, he scoots closer and leans over Todoroki, adjusting his weight so he won't tip over. He means to try and deepen it, but the smile on his face is too much to contain after just a few seconds. He pulls back, turning his head just enough to press a quick kiss to the inside of Todoroki's wrist, hiding his smile there a moment. ]
Sorry, sorry, I'm just— happy. [ To say the least. He is absolutely not tearing up because of how happy he is, he's fine. His free hand comes up to cup Todoroki's own gently and then his fingers skim down, tracing the line of his arm. Kissing is vastly preferable to sticking both feet in his mouth, so he leans back down, easing his lips over Todoroki's own again. ]
no subject
[he could be relieved Midoriya's the one to pull away if he didn't also mourn it. his eyes stayed open the whole time and yet he'd felt that smile more than he'd seen it, the way breath left him and fanned hot on Todoroki's lips when he almost laughed with it, euphoric and mirthful...]
[this guy... he's the sun, really, and he feels the warmth of it begin penetrating deeper]
You're apologizing for being happy? [him, of all people. who told him to stop apologizing repeatedly when he had actual things to be sorry for and yet he wouldn't even be heard. his mouth's open to say something else when Midoriya closes in on him again, and his lips fall between his own this time, more than a peck, accidentally deeper]
[oh indeed]
[something clicks into place, downright viscerally. Todoroki surges up, blossoming under the realization of it, mouth parted as he breathes in Midoriya's exhale, closing down on his bottom lip and giving it a light suck to intensify the sensation. his eyes are still open but they're at least half-lidded now, eyelashes fluttering low, and his arms close tighter around shoulders that are broader than he imagined they would be to hold]
[does he have freckles here too? he wants to strip him down and count each one, but running his tongue along the seam of his lips will just have to do for now]
[...minty]
no subject
So. Research. No one really had a scientific approach to kissing that he could find. You'll know how once you kiss the other person, you'll find out what they'll like on had said. Another suggested stopping every few moments to ask but that also sounded utterly ridiculous because once he started he wasn't going to ask Todoroki for a running score here. He'd vaguely perused videos but that felt too weird and voyeuristic for him to do anything with, which means he's left with practice, after you figure it out.
Maybe, if he's not great at it, it won't matter because Todoroki won't know either, so if it's terrible they have nothing to compare it to. The only issue with that is it's...not terrible. At all. Todoroki's a long, solid line of warmth down against him, his lips are soft and he's holding Midoriya steady like he's something important. Parting his lips without a second thought Midoriya tries desperately to remember every single thing he'd ever read about kissing involving tongues and realizes none of it compares to the real thing. It's like battle; he could read a thousand books and study really hard to know everything about a battle but it's nothing without practical application.
...Probably shouldn't tell Todoroki he's thinking about battles while they're kissing and probably shouldn't be thinking about anything else while they're kissing or he'll —
He's absolutely mumbling things under his breath, into the kiss and for a long moment is mortified at himself, pulling back just enough to look down at Todoroki, pupils blown wide. He looks — incredible, of course. Too much so to look at for any amount of time because he doesn't trust himself not to say anything ridiculous so one big hand comes up and cups his cheek again, guiding him into another kiss. This time he acts rather than reacts and absolutely doesn't mumble; he nips lightly at Todoroki's bottom lip slides his tongue against Todoroki's a moment later.
Oops. He's smiling again. ]
no subject
[short-lived as it is. he's breathy and flushed and his lips are swollen with attention, gaze heavy as he looks up at him, a careful stillness, wondering if this is their limit tonight and deciding that it'd be just fine if it was]
[but he's still pleased it's not; this time, he smiles too]
[hands skim down his back, over the shirt he'd given him that's entirely too long with their height difference but fills out fine with the muscle he feels under his touch, power latent but alive in this body, palpable and...]
[erotic]
[almost as much as his passion bursting out of him with untamed words and unchecked grins, how easily he finds happiness — things Todoroki can't bring himself to be jealous of but admires all the same]
[and so he rolls him, an arm hooked on his waist, pressing Midoriya's side down into the bedding. months ago, if there was still so much in him that was like it used to be, if Midoriya hadn't changed him as deeply as he had, he'd be on top of him — domineering, taking; instead, he only lays him down next to him, even and equal, both on their sides facing each other, and presses close]
[close enough to feel the hard planes of his chest against his own, for a hand on his waist to pull his hips against his, for his legs to tangle in Midoriya's, a thigh pressing up high, pulling him apart]
It's okay? [the question is a murmur of his own, hovering over lips still wet with his kiss, breath gone heavy and pulse racing]
no subject
Todoroki smiles, of course. It's not nearly as rare or as fleeting as it used to be and Midoriya's endlessly grateful for that, for Todoroki having more reasons to smile and feeling safe enough to do so. This isn't the I find a dumb joke you made amusing smile, though. It's different, or maybe just the context is. Any time Todoroki's smiled at him, it hasn't been spread out on his sheets, lips kiss-swollen and hair soft, damp.
Midoriya takes a deep, fortifying breath and pretends like he's not coming apart at the seams. It works...adequately. Of course, as soon as he thinks he has a hold on himself Todoroki is rolling them, shifting their weight on the futon and it takes everything in him not to squawk like a lunatic until they settle. His body braces for— something, almost. Too many times practicing how to fall and get back up to not have a part of him reflexively moving, testing to see where he can brace his weight if he's pinned. It's unnecessary, as it turns out. Todoroki isn't rolling over on top of him; they're side to side and there's a leg, a thigh sliding up high and tight between his own and this time Midoriya does make a noise, a low oh of shock.
it's okay, Todoroki asks nonchalantly, like he doesn't look incredible like his thigh isn't dangerously close to where Midoriya's cock is very much starting to take an interest in what's going on here. ]
I— okay. Yes. This is— yes. [ Is what comes out instead of a more responsible we should really get some rest or an equally reasonable, and perhaps more likely sleeping in pants we came in is gross but I super don't want to get up. He'll figure it out. Right now, Midoriya hooks a leg around one of Todoroki's and tangles their feet together, using that to tug himself in closer to the bare line of his chest which he desperately wants to explore, so he slides a hand up between them, starting at his belly, tracing over it and the line of his chest with rough fingers. ] Are you okay?
no subject
[what Midoriya's doing to him, and the chest under his fingers vibrates low with a hum, accepting at first, and then appreciating]
Aa. [more than okay. it amazes him, really, how much this boy can make him feel, what he can change and inspire and actually give him room to act upon, the inspiration for ignition he finds himself drawn to, time and time again, with both calm and ferocity]
[he rolls forward, soft and slow, and when their hips lock — ]
[well. there's another smile this time, but it's sharper, edges that reflect the way his eyes darken with something hungrier, pupils dilated to drink in every nervous fidget, every thought that crosses his mind before he acts on it, finding it all so legible like this. could they have had this sooner? why did he push him away? he's too tired and too focused on this to remember]
I wanna touch you. [his voice is husked with that something else now, smoky and kept low like a fire to keep only them warm. no underwear — he didn't give him any, at least — so when his fingers slide beneath the elastic waistband of his pajamas he finds only skin and muscle, pressing down until fingers dig into the meat of a cheek and give his ass a firm squeeze]
[it pulls him even closer, drags him against his body, friction sparking as he basically forces Midoriya to grind his dick against the flat of his thigh — ]
[and Todoroki sighs like he's the one feeling the relief, like he'd been too pent up without it that now he can just melt into his embrace, antagonize all the scrapes and bruises along this scarred body leaving him tender; he swallows hard, and then busies his mouth again... with a kiss to his temple, mouth unoccupied, just in case he decides to speak up and tell him to stop, slow down, take it easy]
[someone should. if he gets his way, he'll be chasing all those noises Midoriya can make all night long.]
no subject
These days, Midoriya takes a hit, rolls and keeps coming up; he doesn't know how to do anything else now that he's capable of it. That same dogged determination extends into everything in his life: his friendships, his school work, his hero work. It is, he's realizing, going to extend to this. It's one thing to know that Todoroki enjoys this as much as he does, but it's something else altogether to have Todoroki's thigh pressed tight between his legs, the way he's looking at Midoriya like he wants to eat him alive. This isn't something he can be the best at, objectively, but this something that he can learn how to be extremely good at, for Todoroki's sake. Practical application, maybe, rather than book knowledge and — he's doing it again.
I wanna touch you, Todoroki says, somehow so certain about what it is he wants, how he wants it, a million things that Midoriya's sure he'd take ages to decide how to even ask for. Todoroki just...says it. Swallowing, Midoriya leans in to brush their noses together contemplating another kiss, laughing faintly. ] You are. So much right now.
[ It's like Todoroki has this uncanny sense about how, exactly, to make Midoriya the most flustered while wringing the least sexy sounds out of him as humanly possible. The hand sliding down gives him a moment of pause; he's absolutely not wearing anything under there and Todoroki's hand just — oh, yeah, okay, he can totally be cool with that, doesn't make a startled mmh. He absolutely doesn't grind heavily onto Todoroki's thigh because he has some measure of self-control here. (He does, it's mind-meltingly great.)
Todoroki's injured. Midoriya's sure that if he looked, he'd find all the tender parts of him, the bruises and scrapes and places where Todoroki wears victory and survival in splotches of blue and red. He just got out of the hospital, it's late, and they're both exhausted, Midoriya should be the responsible one and say let's go to bed and talk about this in the morning or something else, but the problem is he doesn't want to go to bed or leave this til tomorrow. He wants to to coax more of those little sighs out of Todoroki, wants to grind himself against the muscled thigh pressed between his legs, wants to kiss him until they're both out of breath and then do it again. Truthfully, he can't recall the last time he wanted anything, anyone this badly.
This is, he figures, just another thing to give his all. Midoriya squirms until he manages to return the favor: a thigh pressed between Todoroki's own, giving him something to grind against in turn, and a scarred hand touches to the curve of his waist, the small of his back, traces up his spine until he can bury it in Todoroki's hair, using a fistful to gently tug him into another kiss, the firm certainty of it melting into eagerness and demand as Midoriya rolls their hips together, his low noise swallowed by Todoroki's lips. ]
no subject
[Midoriya, he realizes, is fully capable of pushing him off and laying him out of he wanted]
[the caution flag in his mind immolates into burning permission, a welcoming, a symbol of war; he gasps into the kiss when the favor's returned, ferocity in those hands, purpose in the attention against his now filled erection, exposed for the needy thing that he is as he rocks into him, craving more]
[he couldn't stop if he tried]
[eyes finally close with it, led by pure instinct over analysis, walls of strategy breaking down to simply feel, blindly and wholly in a way only he can make him do; the hand on his ass dips lower, tugs down pajama pants to the back of his thighs and scathes back up, palming along the line of his body. skin meets skin on their flat bellies as he surges, warm and smooth and dizzying]
[shouldn't be be above this? the son of Endeavor, enslaved to animalistic instinct, losing himself and his purpose to give into something so base, no matter how tired, how wounded, how achingly alone the touch tries to quell? not a single word his father's ever beaten into him can come close to making him reconsider this right now]
God, you feel — [praise that gets lost between their lips as he crashes like a wave upon him again, a low noise in his throat as fabric snags and drags along his groin; it's becoming a messy dance, chaotic without a beat, the push-pull of rutting against a body like this — Midoriya's body, opened up to him in a way he doesn't want to admit he's fantasized about when it's been only him in his room, out from under watchful eyes]
[there's heat on him, bleeding down onto his chest and a shoulder, making the room muggy and the places their skin touch sticky with humidity, and all he can think about is how much he likes it. then a hand sliding between their bodies, muscle concaving to let him pass, and he breaks their kiss wetly as fingers grope experimentally at where Midoriya's trapped in his pants]
[temerity growing, he pulls down the waist and wraps all of his fingers around him the way he would himself, a little clumsy, grip a little too snug; he's not ashamed to say he holds his own breath just to listen for the noise he'll undoubtedly make]
no subject
This isn't going to be enough, not really. Once won't be enough, not when there's no possible way to catalog every inch of him and he so, so desperately wants to. He could spend days learning the slope of Todoroki's shoulders, or the noises he makes if Midoriya presses his mouth here or there.
Once isn't going to be what Todoroki wants, either, though. Before, he might not have been certain about it but now, certainty is a heady sensation, almost as much as the sensation of Todoroki's hand palming the outline of where his dick is pressed against borrowed pajamas. A shocked nnnhhh, slips out from behind clenched teeth; idly grinding against the line of muscle that was Todoroki's thigh was great, but a hand was a thousand, a million times more satisfying.
Licking over his lips, he catches his breath and can't resist the urge to look down between them. He can't see shit, not with the covers hiding most of it, and like clockwork, there's a little mental note made; he wants to see as much as humanly possible next time, which means lights on. ]
I feel what?
[ He can guess at what Todoroki's going to say, but he wants to hear it, anyway, wants to commit every moment of this to memory.
Sex isn't a battle, but Midoriya realizes all too easily that he wants to respond to it like one. A noise had been wrung out of him; he wants to see what it takes to get them out of Todoroki in turn. This isn't something to be the best at, necessarily, but he certainly wasn't going to let Todoroki do all the hard work, either.
The first thing to fix is that he's not touching nearly enough of him at any given moment which means he needs to shift; the resulting shuffle isn't particularly sexy and he's hyper-aware of how warm it is under those covers but Midoriya is nothing if not stubborn. The hand he was laying on is dragged out until he's able to reach Todoroki's cheek, wanting to coax him into another series of kisses. The other hand doesn't bother with pulling pajama pants down; he slips it under elastic and angles his thigh to give himself room to circle his fingers around Todoroki's cock.
There's no lotion, there's nothing but sweat to smooth the way and abruptly Midoriya realizes it's not like his hands are soft. They're scarred, calloused, and rough; his hand goes loose a moment later. Instead of stroking the touch turns exploratory fingertips feeling out the shape of him, stroking over the wet tip and thumbing under the head lightly. He's not ashamed of the scars or roughness, but as he dares to press a kiss to Todoroki's jaw, his tone is lower, wry but not apologetic. ] Sorry. Let me know if it's too rough.
no subject
[well. his eloquence has taken a hit, the word sharp and sloppy in his mouth before he's robbed (thankfully) of the ability to say any more, each kiss gaining confidence and seeming to ever crescendo into what he can't quite reach yet, chased somewhere beyond the line of Midoriya's teeth]
[too rough, too soft, it really doesn't matter — anything would make him tremble and gasp when it comes from hands that have broken for him before, skin to skin contact running a shudder right up his spine that makes him flex and bend into the shorter boy with a desirous tenacity that leaves him lightheaded and more aching than any fantasy of this that's come before]
[stretching his head back to expose the tantalizing pale of his throat as Midoriya moves down, the light catches his visible swallow, the bead of sweat running down his jugular, the way it pulses hard with the beat as everything flows south, making him strained with a very different kind of tension than the norm]
Mmnno, it's— I like it.
[how rough it is. how rough he is, both of them wearing marks and wear, badges from previous victories — the evidence from how diligent and ambitious Midoriya is evidenced all over his body. when he's of sane mind, when they're back in a bed together, when it's next time, he's going to find every blemish on his skin and worship it with attention so slow and thorough it'll leave him broken down, a mess, his]
[there are wishes in him he's too inexperienced to articulate and too — tired (timid?) to act on, ideass that dip darker with bruises, more of that calloused touch, and his mouth elsewhere, but for now...]
I don't have anything. Maybe if you... [that thought trails off with his selectively bad vocabulary, hazy eyes searching for the words but inevitably falling back to actions again, as always; the hand not full of heat finds one of Midoriya's wrists and guides it up, parting his fingers before unceremoniously pushing two into his mouth. it's... not exactly the most erotic thing ever, more emphasizing pragmatism over appeal, his decidedly small mouth stretched around him and sucking up saliva from a lashing tongue — ]
[but the suggestion of it isn't lost on him either, darkening his features even more in the shadows]
[as he rears back, there's a crystalline line of spit from the tips of his fingers to lips already swollen but now shining wetly, trying not to wear every bit of surprise at himself he feels for abruptly doing something quite that bold]
Maybe that... will help. [kill him]
no subject
Of course, that concern goes straight out the window when he's reassured that no, Todoroki likes it, likes his too rough, too large hand. Midoriya wants to object or at the very least, ask if he's certain, but he trusts Todoroki. They've been through too much together not to trust him when he says he likes or doesn't like something. To do anything less was disrespectful for how far they've fought and come together. ]
Oh. Oh, um, that's good. [ Midoriya says intelligently, abruptly wanting to kiss the words out of his mouth as he says them and instead busies himself with learning the curve of Todoroki's throat, scraping his teeth over the bump of it, barely holding back on the urge to bite and kiss as much as he wants. He can't not when he's not entirely sure how much effort a hickey takes to make and if Todoroki could cover it up if he left one.
The hand on Todoroki's erection is guided up and Midoriya has a half-hysterical moment where he wonders if Todoroki's hair matches, which he's absolutely not going to ask, he's going to wait and see when there are lights. ] I could probably just— with your thigh, it's not the sexiest thing, I guess but I—
[ Those are his fingers in Todoroki's mouth. Did he wash his hands recently? He's pretty sure he did, but his hand was just all over Todoroki's erection. Midoriya has exactly two seconds where he has to reboot, needs a moment to gather himself up and take stock of the situation and then he's tracing wet fingertips over the swell of Todoroki's bottom lip, considering. There's a part of him that wants to— that just wants. Wants to fuck his fingers into Todoroki's mouth, wants to watch him take them in proper lighting, but that's for later. They'll have a later.
Right now, Midoriya takes a fortifying breath and shoves his hand down between their bodies again. It's a tentative set of touches until he figures out how best to grip him and then he's closing his hand, giving Todoroki a tight fist to fuck up into as he moves it, green eyes nearly all pupil as he stares. ] Super helpful. [ Midoriya's voice is a little breathless, a little shaky; he leans in and steals another kiss, dragging his teeth over Todoroki's bottom lip when they part again because he has an increasingly pressing question about logistics. It's probably not terribly sexy, but it's Todoroki's sheets and his pajamas and he doesn't want to get come all over them. ] I'm — do you have tissues, I don't want your pants to be, uh, dirty.
[ It's probably easier to get answered when he's not kissing the person he's asking questions to, but the dim light catches the shine of Todoroki's lips and the shadow of his nose and Midoriya wants so fiercely that he's stealing another series of kisses greedily. It's too much, he doesn't know his own limits. Todoroki's thigh is solid and hot between his own, his hand just the right amount of rough, his erection hot in his palm; everything builds up and spills over abruptly. Midoriya half-mashes his face into Todoroki's shoulder, riding his thigh and fucking into his hand gracelessly with a low, startled groan, spilling between them messily.
Later, he'll feel bad about it, probably a little mortified, really. Right now, he has a shocked moment where he stares, and then abruptly redoubles his efforts on Todoroki, smearing a messy kiss across his chin, tracing up to the shine of his lips. ]
no subject
[there's no one else he'd rather be doing this with. inexperienced fumbles, letting himself be weak and overwhelmed — thoughts blanked and reduced to a slow crawl that's all Midoriya, Midoriya, his newly slicked hand tight around his dick and his body flush against his own and his tongue and lips and legs and cock and — ]
[and come, hot and wet in his hand, against his wrist, smattered across his own belly where the release had forced it, and all Todoroki has in return for him is going still and staring back]
[being kissed, and — ]
[a frown]
I missed it. [it's... more like a pout, really, disappointment in himself for getting distracted by his kiss, his... everything. he doesn't have time to linger in it when the hand on him quickens, making him squirm with heat and friction, his dirty palm slowly releasing Midoriya... only to go to the spill on his stomach and smear it, pressing semen-slick fingers into his skin in some filthy, possessive stamp while his hips rock, drawing a heady growl out of him]
[he doesn't seem bothered by the mess; at least, not right now]
Fuck, I'm so glad we didn't stay in the hospital. [not a sexy last thought to have before a blinding orgasm either, but this is who they are, really]
[tension pulls him along, balls tightening, shuddering hard at the height of it and his breath getting caught in a swollen chest, not quite as avoidant when it comes to pleasure being wrung out of him when he leans down to snap his teeth into the lobe of Midoriya's ear, letting him hear the shivery grunts that pull him back down as he slacks, spent and satisfied]
[he relaxes back down as if he's dipping into the high rather than finishing it, an afterglow washing over so intense it's all-encompassing, mind whiting out and refusing to come back down]
[jesus...]
Mmnn. [he sounds like a sated cat...]
no subject
Sorry.
[ He doesn't sound super contrite, though, too caught up in making certain that he wrings an orgasm out of Todoroki in turn. The fuss about the mess doesn't matter anymore; he's already spilled between them and will have to get up and fetch something so it's just efficiency at this point to coax Todoroki's orgasm out of him, too so he only has to clean up once. It's the mention of the hospital that startles a laugh and a murmured I know, right? out of him, low and warm. He's too busy committing every inch of this to his memory: the press of teeth against his earlobe, breath hot against the shell, the noises he makes, the way his cock pulses in Midoriya's hand.
Given a few moments, he could probably be convinced into going again if it weren't for the more pressing matter of both of them needing rest and the fact that he's sticky with both sweat and come. Plucking at his pajama pants, Midoriya gently fits them back up over Todoroki's spent cock and then forces himself to push the covers back. ]
Be right back.
[ He doesn't give him a chance to protest, rolling to his feet a little unsteadily with his legs not wanting to cooperate, but a moment later there's the sound of running water and shortly after that he's coming back out with a warm washcloth. He's lost his shirt entirely, but the pants are still on, rolled up around the waist and damp like he'd cleaned the mess up as best as he could so he didn't have to change. He doesn't kneel right away; lit by the dim light from the bathroom and outside, Todoroki's gorgeous. He is, of course, always gorgeous but it's different, now. Before it was an observable fact: Todoroki was attractive and brilliant, and wildly powerful but their friendship was always the most important and Midoriya refused to risk that.
Now, as he kneels and pulls back the covers to start wiping the cloth over his skin, he lets himself look. ]
Want me to get you a change of clothes? Or some water?
no subject
[fussy. the warm cloth feels nice but he's more sensitive now and bodily twitches when it goes low on him, making him thrum, loosened muscle shifting in the light, washing him out in pales but for crimson and a bright blue eye. if Midoriya lets his curiosity claim him under the pretense of thorough aftercare, he'll find that yes, yes his hair is equally dichotomous here]
[otherwise, he lets it happen. too tired to care, he would've slept in the mess anyway and then regretted it so he'll appreciate Midoriya's efforts later, but right now, there's a more pressing issue — one he announces when he grabs the forearm extended towards him and tugs]
I want sleep. [demanding...]
[but he's aware of that gaze. still hungry, not fully satisfied, something he can recognize because he's sure he's worn it himself, either privately or when no one was looking — how he realizes now that Midoriya must not feel too differently in his wish to roam and claim swaths of skin and breaths and secret exchanges of intimacy...]
[god, he's been an idiot]
We can do it again in the morning. Or more. If you want.
[he's too washed out for the pink of his cheeks to out-burn the light, but there's still a timidity to the offer in its staccato presentation]
no subject
He had to break Todoroki's hold to clean up the mess between them but once it's done there's nothing stopping him from touching to his heart's content. He could lean in and steal a kiss and it wouldn't be much of a theft at all because his feelings were returned. The certainty feels — nice. We can do it again in the morning. Or more. If you want. Like they're not both wiped, but Todoroki offers and Midoriya has a mad moment where he considers, that competitive nature flaring. No.
Besides, Midoriya's thrilled with the casual intimacy, in seeing Todorooki melted into a puddle on the bed and that weird sense of satisfaction that came with knowing he had something to do with it. ]
Pretty sure we're supposed to be taking it easy. [ That they're two of the three students least likely to do that goes unsaid while Midoriya lets his hand explore up Todoroki's arm, over his chest. It means a lot that Todoroki's even the one to suggest this, really. Midoriya doesn't point that out, listening to the steady breathing, tracing the line of Todoroki's profile in the dim lighting. Brave he thinks not for the first time and not for the last. ] I think one or both of us would probably fall asleep if we tired, and I want to be awake to remember everything.
[ He slides a foot over both of Todoroki's, tangling their legs together with a sleepy, pleased smile tilted up at him at the way initiating casual intimacy feels like a victory. ] Goodnight.
I RETURN and 1/2
[he doesn't squirm in his sleep, lays still and soft and peaceful, leaning perpetually into the comfort of another body, until a burn of sunlight starts to pierce into his eyelids, the curtains left drawn open]
[waking feels like slowly coming back into his own body, sore and tender but comfortably so — like after a hard fight full of victory or the rest after breaking some personal goal in the gym, full of accomplishments. there's breath fanning is skin that he leans away from to steal a gaze, Midoriya's repose easy and trusting, dark curls askew around his face, freckles burnt in the warm light. Todoroki feels his chest do something strange, heartstrings lacing around the organ and pulling taut as a corset, suffocating in its own right. the arm beneath that weight prickles numbly and he gives it a testing squeeze, all pins and needles, trapped beneath his solidity.]
[it pains him to wake him, but... there are places he wants to kiss on him, and he can't do it — I want to be awake to remember everything — with him asleep like this]
Midoriya. [it's low, meant to lure him back to reality rather than shove him into it harshly, his free hand raising to cup a cheek and run a thumb across his bottom lip]
[a princely gentleman, waking his lover from slumber — ]
no subject
[well. almost.]
no subject
When he wakes the next time, it's less groggy, no longer weighed down by a thousand things. He feels a hand cupping his cheek and is distantly aware of someone talking to him. One eye cracks open and he puts two and two together, smiling sleepily at Todoroki looking down at him. There's no moment of oh god, did we do that or concern. It comes back to him, and Midoriya stretches out like a lazy, pleased cat, lounging in Todoroki's bed until the other part comes back to him. He's not super tall but he is heavy and Todoroki's arm —
Ah.
He rolls over just a little bit and fumbles at trying to make room for him to get up and go, pressing a kiss against his bicep as he rolls away to free it. ]
You gotta come back, though. [ Midoriya rolls onto his stomach, face mashed into the pillow, hair a bird's nest as he levels a finger at Todoroki like he has any sort of authority here. ] Okay?
[ He wants to snuggle properly when they're both awake and can fully appreciate it, but he also wants this, a slow, lazy morning where he can bring Todoroki under the warmth of the covers and drowse for a while. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)