⚠️SMUT WARNING⚠️
POV SHOUTA
I have my arm draped over his shoulders, pulling him to my side as we walk, but Tenko is still leading the way. If I had to guess, it's probably around six thirty in the morning. The air is stale, thin, and cold; the sun is taking its time inching up the blue sky. The world has slowed down for me and Tenko, for this stupid stroll we're taking. It must know that we need a breather before jumping back into the chaos.
"Where are you taking me, you little psychopath?" I ask Tenko. He just grins and stays silent, leaning his head on my shoulder as we go. We take a few turns and cut through a few alleys. Soon enough, we're at some hole-in-the-wall bar with a neon sign that reads: "Zoey's". (Though the 'o' light is dead, so it really says Zey's.)
Tenko unwraps my arm from his shoulders and slides his hand into mine. I activate my quirk beforehand, and I have no problem keeping my eyes locked on him. "Thought we could use a drink or two," Tenko says. "If that's cool with you, Eraserhead."
I smirk at him, teasingly. "Didn't I tell you my name isn't Eraserhead? It's Shouta. You should know that, shouldn't you? With that crush of yours and all."
Tenko's smile is so subtle, but so mesmerizing. Our voices are lower than a whisper, but I can hear nothing but him. "I don't think I'd consider this just a crush anymore, Shouta."
I can't lie, the way he says my name tugs on a few neglected strings within me. I squeeze his hand, trying to steady myself, because I'm not sure if Tenko brought me here with ulterior motives. And I don't want to push him to do something he's not in the right mindset for.
But Jesus fucking Christ, he's playing with me, isn't he? Glancing at me like that. Tugging on the hem of my shirt. Whispering like a goddamn pornstar.
Tenko takes a seat at the bar. This place is open 24/7 according to the sign out front, but it's a ghost town in here. It's just the bar tender, some guy passed out in a booth across the room, and me and Tenko.
"What can I get you two?" asks the bartender. She seems exhausted, rightfully so, and so I fish out a few extra bills for her while Tenko orders.
"Tequila sunrise," Tenko says. "Uh, two of them. Please."
"Alright, coming right up," the bartender says. She turns around and gets to mixing, and I turn my attention back to Tenko, a sly smile on my face.
"You tryna get me drunk, pretty boy?" I tease.
Tenko grins and rolls his eyes, speaking much more sultry than necessary. "My bad. I thought you could handle your liquor, sir."
Fuck, this man is going to be the death of me. "I can," I say. "It's you I'm worried about. Last time you got drunk, you almost killed me. And my eyes are too tired to stop you."
Tenko hums, deviously so. "I hope that's the only thing that's tired."
I don't get flustered very often. Actually, I don't even remember the last time I was flustered. But somehow, somehow, Tenko has me wrapped around his deadly little finger.
The bartender hands us our drinks, and thankfully, she doesn't comment on our already off-balance faces. Tenko played with the straw of his drink, drinking slowly. I just watched him at first, tracing the rim of my glass with the tip of my finger. When my drink is gone, Tenko's is still half-full. He stares at me, probably laughing at my flustered face. He's got a blush of his own, dusted over his face. His scars look shinier than usual, which is most likely an after effect of the moisturizer treatment. He looks skinner, which isn't a good thing in his case, but outside of that, he looks healthier. And more importantly, happier.
Tenko is really, truly powerful. His smile could be terrifying or adorable. His touch could be deadly or seductive. I've seen both, and I can confidently say I want to see more. I'm obsessed with the risk of having his hands trace my figure. I'm mesmerized by how his scars put together the gorgeous painting of his body. I love his rough lips, his soft tongue, the way his hips are molded to hold my hands, how easily I can pin him down and fuck into him.
Tenko has to know this. There's no way all of these slutty looks he's giving me are coincidence. He's playing with me, teasing me, egging me on. Fine. He wants a show? I'll give him a fucking show.
Tenko leaves his drink unfinished, turning to the bartender. "Aiko?" he says, sniffling a small burp. "Is the back open?"
The bartender scoffs. "First Dabi and now you? Seriously, you guys are disgusting." She fishes out a key and drops it into Tenko's hand. "Two hours max. And take the sheets off when you're done. Zoey has a group coming later."
Tenko thanks her and pulls me around the corner and down a dark hallway. He unlocks the door, steps inside, and locks it behind us. I flick on the light, revealing a window-less room and king sized bed. "Dabi used to come here a lot before he got with Hawks," Tenko says, tossing the key onto the small side table by the door. "So I know the place pretty well. It's cleaned thoroughly, and the walls are soundproof."
"You're so perverted," I say with a small laugh.
"Says the one with a tent in his pants," Tenko teased. "What kind of dirty things are you planning on doing to me, Eraserhead? By the looks of it, I'd say you're planning on jumping me."
Again with that sly smirk, those delicate eyelashes and fluid movements. I watch intently, a starving hum buzzing in the back of my mind, as Tenko moves his hands up my biceps, making a walking motion with his index and middle finger. He slinks his arms around my shoulders, pressing our bodies together, and threads his fingers through my hair. He leans in to kiss me, gently at first. But I'm worked up, and I'm impatient, and I don't want to take my time with him. Not today, at least.
I rip his hands away from my hair, grabbing his wrists with enough strength to bruise him. We keep our mouths together, kissing roughly and uneven and jagged. I push him onto the bed, stripping my shirt off before crawling on top of him and trailing hungry kisses down his neck. Tenko squirms, grabbing at my shoulders and guiding me down his body. I tug off his pants impatiently, kissing and biting at his thighs.
"Fuck," Tenko breathes, his hips rocking upward ever so slightly. He wants friction, but I'm too selfish to give it to him just yet. He seems to understand my course of action, nodding to the bedside table. "Top drawer, should be a new thing of lube."
I follow his instructions, roughly grabbing Tenko's thigh to steady myself as I reach over to the table. I grab the small travel-sized bottle of lube and tear the plastic seal off with my teeth. I pop the cap open and lather my fingers in the cool liquid. Tenko shivers as I coat his entrance, gently prodding him with my middle finger. The excess lube drips down onto the mattress, soaking the already wrinkled sheets. No need to hold back, is there?
I work two fingers in easily. How long has it been since I last fucked him? No longer than a week, I'd say. Time moves quickly when hell's on Earth. But none of that matters to me right now. There's nothing outside of this moment, this room, this bed, this man. God, he's fucking beautiful. Scarred and skinny and panting an pretty. I'm determined to rip the moans from his whimpering mouth, to string them up and hang them in the halls of my memory. I want to know every inch of him. To breathe every inch of him, take every inch of him, devour every fucking inch of him.
A possessive feeling washes over me like alcohol in spiked punch. My grip on his thighs tightens, and Tenko lets out a small moan. He's muttering little nothings, pleads for me to touch his shivering body and fuck up his tiny figure. I work another finger into his hole, scissoring and stretching so my erection will be able to fit in better. As blinded with lust as I am, I still want Tenko to have a good time. And by the sounds of it, he is.
I find his prostate and massage it gently, drinking in the sounds of his needy moans and breathy whines. "Eraser, c'mon," Tenko begs, his voice shaking. "Harder, come on. Don't be s-so fucking gentle--"
"That's not how you ask for things, Tenko," I say, slipping my fingers out of him. Tenko whines with displeasure, arching his back on the mattress.
"Pl-please," Tenko whispers. "Fuck me, Shouta. I need you to fuck me, please."
I had planned on teasing him a little more, but with a request like that? I can't deny it, not even if I wanted to. Tenko watches with hungry eyes as I remove my pants and boxers, tossing them to the floor beside his pants. He slips out of his shirt and throws that to the side, too. Before long, I'm spreading his legs, grabbing the back of his knees and pushing his thighs back to reveal his coated entrance. I lean over him, lining myself up, and press the top of my cock into him. I keep my eyes on him, quirk activated, so Tenko has no problem scratching and clawing at my back, pulling me deeper inside him.
The initial tight ring of muscle forces a low growl from my throat, and as the head my cock brushes against his prostate, Tenko lets out a moan of his own. It sounds desperate, choked almost. Like he's been waiting for this. Like he wants-- no, needs more.
I'm happy to provide. Hell, I'm more than happy. I force myself deeper, grabbing his waist and angling him up a bit so I can better thrust into him. I wait a few beats for Tenko to catch his breath before pulling back and snapping my hips forward. Rough, deep, and fast paced. Tenko gasps and moans with delight, blushing like he's face to face with the sun's flaming heat. His nails dig into my back, and my quick-activated eyes stare into him, obsessed with the way the fragments of my name fall from his lips between heated breaths. Tenko asks for more, and I provide, pinning him down and fucking the living daylights out of him.
Part of me wants to hold back. He's still recovering from some terrible injuries after all. But the majority of me is focused on the ecstasy flowing through my veins. My body works harder, moves faster, determined to fill the man up with everything I have.
"C-cum, I'm gonna, shit, shit shit, Shouta!" Tenko cries, throwing his head back. He lets out a silent scream as his finishes, and I don't avert my eyes. He's fucking angelic, his blue-ish white hair sprawled out like a halo around his head. The shiny scars tracing his pale skin. The deep crimson blush flushed over his face. It only makes me fuck him harder, deeper, and faster. I didn't plan on cumming inside of him, but Tenko wraps his legs around my torso and forces me to stay in place. So I shoot my load in him, burying my head into his collarbone.
Tenko is shaking and there's a few tears piling in his eyes. I lean back and gently pull out, watching as the mess spills onto the bedsheets. Tenko sighs with contentment, snuggling into me with a happy smile.
Tenko hums. "You never fail to disappoint me, Eraserhead. You truly are amazing."
"You're the worst," I mutter to him with a small laugh, kissing his sweaty forehead. "What time is it?"
"No idea. Why?"
"What do you mean, why? We still need to catch up with Compress, Hawks, Twice, Kurogiri, and Recovery Girl out west and make sure everything's okay--"
"Shhh, shut up, you're ruining the moment," Tenko giggles. "Just... lay with me for a while, okay? Then we can clean up and leave. Promise."
I sigh but don't argue. "You're ridiculous," I tell him.
"I try."
"There isn't a single man on the face of the planet that could compete with you. Did you know that?"
Tenko scoffs. "Now you're being ridiculous."
"Nope. I mean it. You are one in eight billion, Tenko. You're a diamond among a sea of coal."
"Are you always this poetic after you rearrange my guts?"
"Pfft, rearrange your guts? I guess we both have a way with words, huh?"
Tenko smiles. "I guess we do."
There's a beat of silence. Comfortable silence. We're holding each other, tangled in a mess of limbs and lust and love. Love. There are so many unspoken words conveyed between us. So many things that I think up and Tenko grasps and understands. I don't have to tell Tenko I love him for him to know it. He doesn't have to tell me, either.
But we do it anyway. Because he loves hearing my voice, and I love hearing his. Because I love him. I really, truly do.
A/N: I regret a lot of things in life. Writing smut for these two fictional men is not one of them.