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“You made it!”
Ashido’s soft arms enveloped Hitoshi, underlying strength warming him from the winter cold with her firm hold. She always hugged people like she meant it, like she would never be the first to let go in a hug-off. Hitoshi was fairly certain Ashido’s entire life was a game of chicken with anyone and anything who had the guts to walk straight toward her.
Hitoshi adored every single part of her.
“You doubted me?” Hitoshi grinned, squeezing and lifting Ashido from her ice pick heels before allowing her back to earth. “I’m wounded. How could I turn down an offer for drinks with my bestie?”
Ashido squinted one eye at him, a mischievous curve of her black-painted lips as she stared right through him.
“Says the king of the night shift. You’re never around. Gimme a key to your apartment so I can visit.”
“You know I can’t trust you with that,” Hitoshi teased, as they both took stools at the bar. A Tuesday at the club was always more mellow than any other night, and the violent neon lighting rising up from behind the bar and across the walls was soothing - familiar as one of his favorite haunts when he wasn’t busy driving himself into the ground being hero. Literally, figuratively, whatever.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ashido murmured into her half-empty glass, a smile in her voice. Hitoshi could feel the wily weight of gold eyes watching him as he flagged the bartender and ordered something the wrong side of strong. “I’ve missed you, asshole.”
With a flash of teeth and an easy laugh, Hitoshi shrugged, because what could he say to that? Both of them knew how this worked. How their lives worked. Hitoshi busted his ass on the daily to keep his standing with a public who struggled to see him as anything but a villain in the making. Even four years past their graduation, it was an uphill climb. An effort Hitoshi willfully continued like some kind of modern, fucked up Prometheus.
Well. He’d never expected it to be easy.
But there was always this. This could be easy.
Hitoshi bumped Ashido’s bare legs with his knees, flicking a considering look at the gold-sequined mini dress and white faux fur coat, cut short above the waist.
“I missed you, too.”
“Say that while you’re not looking at my tits,” Ashido replied with a shameless smile and a spark of glee.
“I was actually thinking you look like a Christmas ornament.”
“Thank you!” Ashido held out her glass at a jaunty angle that should have had her spilling, waiting for Hitsohi to bring up his own new drink in a cheers. “To me!”
“To you looking like an ornament or to your tits?” Hitoshi asked, mouth curved as they clinked glasses.
“Whatever you want,” Ashido murmured into her drink, gazing up at Hitoshi beneath thick, glamorously long eyelashes.
A deep, primal thump thump thump dropped from heart to gut as realization went syrupy hot at the back of Hitoshi’s tongue.
So, it would be like that tonight.
Good.
Friends – friends with benefits – two people who loved each other’s company and loved having sex together, but didn’t necessarily have lives ideal enough to make something more out of it than that.
The two of them were uncomplicated in a way that would be complicated for almost everyone else, and that knowledge made Hitoshi worship the alter of Ashido more.
“Whatever I want?” Hitoshi said, voice slightly scraped up as his gaze lingered on smooth, supple length of fuchsia thighs. Her thighs could crush, choke out, clench around his waist or his face in all the best ways. “Be careful, Pinky. You know I’m never satisfied.”
With himself, with this life, with his body’s limits – with the sweet musk taste of her slick smeared across his mouth.
Ashido considered him before bursting into a bawdy laugh, the plump jiggle of her breasts pushing them further out the edge of the low-cut neckline. Her laugh was always too loud, too dirty, like she was laughing at a naughty joke that everyone now wished they’d heard.
“You’re damn dramatic is what you are.” Ashido urged Hitoshi’s glass back into his hands, her teeth too white against the black lipstick. “Drink now, drink. Let’s get loose and talk about anything but work. I’m being pursued by an entertainment company, you know? They want to give me my own reality show. Life of a hero and all that, but a fun hero. A sexy, interesting hero – see?”
Falling into a sassy pout, she straightened her posture, her palms at the small of her back, tits popped forward in a sinfully curvaceous pinup pose. She couldn’t hold the smolder for seconds before she disintegrated into giggles and finished off her drink in one shot.
Hitoshi boggled and broke off into a smile.
“Shit, Ashido, that’s – actually. That’s perfect for you. You’ll wow all of Japan more than you already have.”
Ashido waved him off with an eye roll, then signaled the bartender for a double of her past drink, plus two shots of something dishwater brown.
“Let’s be real, Shinsou. I haven’t impressed all that many people. I’m only good in group settings with others to support me. I’m flashy and so is my Quirk, but –“ Ashido shrugged, aimed a automatic half-smile at the bartender when they slid new drinks up. “Well, whatever. I think some unholy marriage of heroism and showbiz is my calling. No one has ever done it like this. Followed a hero around, twenty-four seven. Recorded the ups and downs, the friendships, the hospital visits, the PR nightmares.”
Ashido clinked her shot glass with Hitoshi’s and tossed it back. It tasted like rubbing alcohol and backwoods bathtub breweries. Ashido frowned into her empty glass for a second before she turned it upside down on the black counter, the tip of her long, coffin-shaped gold nail tracing the underside in slow, easy circles.
“And if you happened to be on the show, here and there, flaunting all your good qualities. Well, then – all the better for you, right?”
Hitoshi blinked, sifting through the slow realization.
“Don’t do this for me,” he said, grave, his hand shifting to grip the scarred skin of Ashido’s knee. “Not just for me, anyway. My time will come, just as yours has now.”
Ashido was quick to smile, quicker to palm the top of Hitoshi’s hand as she scoot forward on the stool and parted her thick thighs for him, encouraging his hand up the tender flesh between.
“There are many things I’d do for you, Shinsou. Prostrating myself on national television to ramp up your public ratings isn’t one of them.” Ashido bit down on her bottom lip, slicked it over with the tip of her tongue as the faint slide of Hitoshi’s single finger skimmed down the damp line of her heat. “Um. Hmmm. But it’s an added benefit.”
With a short nod, appeased by the explanation, Hitoshi shifted closer, one long leg blocking the view of Ashido’s thighs and hiked skirt as he propped his shoe upon the foot bar of the stool.
“I do like the benefits that come with you,” Hitoshi rasped in her ear, placing a warm, lingering kiss on the gold skull earring at her lobe.
His fingers were long and clever and confident, two of them catching on the thin fabric of her panties, the inner leg that barely covered a pussy he knew would be plump and flushed dark purple if he spread her out right here, before everyone.
He did love the color purple.
Ashido angled her jaw, baring the fragrant line of her neck for Hitoshi’s mouth to skim. Her pulse point was hot beneath his lips, thrumming quick like impatient fingertips. The slight shift of Ashido’s hips as she edged them forward did not go unnoticed, mainly because it caused his middle finger to slip between the slick, plush folds hidden beneath her skirt. Not deep, just half a finger, a tease that swelled slow and thick in Hitoshi’s jeans.
“What a coincidence,” Ashido whispered, her breath hitching when Hitoshi curled his finger to bump up against the soft, tight nub awaiting him. “’Cause I really do like the benefits of cumming with you.”
Hitoshi rumbled a low chuckle, even as Ashido canted her cunt forward, legs spread wider to welcome him from behind the safety of his bent leg. Ashido might take up an entire room, but she was petite, easily guarded, shifted, fucked up against a wall.
Humming a deep sound of approval, Hitoshi welcomed Ashido’s hand sifting through the hair at his nape while he let his middle finger get clenched up into that lush, welcome heat. She was already so wet for him – how long had she been thinking of this before he’d arrived? How long had she been thinking about his magic fingers, his long cock? The thought set Hitoshi’s teeth on edge, yanked at his self-control like a beast on a chain.
“You haven’t had your second drink, darling,” Hitoshi murmured, leaning back to watch her face, and the wide gold irises like jewels. He slipped out of her enough to meet her clit, the calloused pad of his fingertip circling easy, unhurried circles along the underside. Ashido bit down on her bottom lip, the deep pink underlying the black lipstick peaking through as her clit pulsed and pressed back against Hitoshi’s slippery strokes.
“Go on,” Hitoshi said, unwilling to hold back his growing grin. “Drink up. They’re fucking expensive here.”
“You’re unbelievable,” Ashido muttered, but did as she was told, albeit with a flushed, stubborn glare. She fumbled with her highball glass and brought the glittering rim to her mouth. Her thighs twitched, knees jolting almost entirely together when Hitoshi added a second finger to the first, dipping past her clit in one long stroke to fill her quick and tight.
Ashido’s sudden, high moan filled her half-empty glass like the most luscious liquor. All too immediately, the desire to drink her up, let her sweet, musky juice spill over Hitoshi’s tongue while she shuddered in release became too much.
With a shuddering breath, Hitoshi slipped his fingers away, dragging them along the inside of her thigh as their gazes clashed in agreement.
“Bathroom,” Hitoshi said tightly.
“Oh, thank god,” Ashido agreed in a rush and sparkling smile, dropping from her stool onto wobbly legs. Her hand gripped Hitoshi’s upper arm as she swayed once. “Don’t get me wrong, I love talking to you and you’re my best friend but –“
“Less talk, more walk.”
Hitoshi tugged her along to the unisex bathroom and shoved her in there without shame or a look over his shoulder. Ashido’s violently black heels cut against the tile as she grabbed his hand and hauled him into one of the stalls.
Ashido’s throaty laughter echoed off the graffiti walls as she flattened against the metallic black stall, her cropped fur coat a white, fluffy halo coming around Hitoshi’s head with outstretched arms, fingers threading at his nape as he grinned into her clumsy, exuberant kiss. Her tongue tasted like the cloying, vanilla-caramel bite of amber liquor, her perfume a citrus rainbow that all clashed together into something perfectly, brightly her.
Kneeing her thighs apart and wedging his own in between and up, Hitoshi groaned at the shot of heat grinding down on his leg in return. She was so ready, so receptive, every single time.
One hand fisting at the base of her soft, fluffy hair, Hitoshi tugged, angling her chin and glistening, black lips up to his own. His free hand kneaded up her wide hip and nipped, firm waist, his mouth working violet bruises along her throat as he curled his fingers over the edge of her neckline and yanked.
Ashido whimpered high, breasts spilling out from the sequined dress, her round, bouncy tits tipped with deep pink, little beads tempting Hitoshi’s tongue. Smiling at the urgent bite of long nails into his scalp, Hitoshi dipped his head and brushed his lips over one nipple, then the other. Ashido cursed him too loud, arms wrapped around his wild mane of hair, shoving him closer until he sucked one tight nipple into his mouth and loved on it with suckles and bites and long laves of tongue.
“Can we do some multi-tasking here?” Ashido breathed, already ragged and impatient as she rocked her hips against the damp spot on Hitoshi’s thigh. She laughed again, husky, velvet naughtiness as their hands both bumped at Hitoshi’s fly.
“Impatient, impatient,” Hitoshi murmured, his voice cracked and hollow from distraction, his mind in seven places at once and all of them Ashido. “Who the hell made button flies.”
“Burn these pants later.” Another deep night laugh, their foreheads bumping as they peered between them, Hitoshi fumbling the line of buttons down his jeans, and Ashido cupping his cock through the stiff material, rubbing in long, circular drags of palm. “God, I hate them.”
“Noted.” Hitoshi stripped his jeans down his ass, the full, throbbing length of his cock bobbing right into Ashido’s warm, soft hand. He shuddered a breath, dropped his brow to Ashido’s lush, furred shoulder, distracted himself with twisting and tweaking at her nipple. “Mental calendar marked for pants incineration.”
“Okay,” Ashido huffed, working Hitoshi’s cock with a loose, hurried hold. “Okay, okay, fuck me now, fuck me, Hitoshi.”
She’d never had to ask him twice. Unless he was looking to make her beg, anyway.
Hitoshi dropped to his knees, clever hands hiking Ashido’s short dress up to her waist and slipping away the scrap of sheer black lace, linking one leg hole on his arm so they wouldn’t hit the floor later. He paused, gazing up to admire the angle of Ashido’s perky tits bruised with the marks of his mouth, and the thick, slick lips of her cunt so swollen and wet and ready.
A moan catching deep in his chest, Hitoshi thumbed at Ashido’s pussy, just dipping the pad of it in to flick at the prominent clit glistening just behind the folds. Ashido’s shameless moan ricocheted off the tiled wall, her fingers forging welts into Hitoshi’s head.
Salivating when Ashido brought one thigh up to rest upon his shoulder, Hitoshi brought his second thumb up to join the first, each one catching on the edges of her pussy to slowly spread it open.
“Hitoshi,” Ashido gasped, gulping for air. “Hitoshi, pl-“
She wailed as he brought his lips up to kiss Ashido’s dripping, messy ones in a meeting of easy, thrusting tongue right into that sopping hole, her musky earth taste coating his tongue as he fucked into her erratically clenching cunt.
When he moved to a stand, he took Ashido’s strong legs around his hips on the way. He could hold her up easily, his fingers sinking into the luscious flesh of her outrageous ass and thighs as he skimmed her back up the stall door. Their mouths met in a crash and moan as Ashido reached between them and lined the flushed, leaking crown of Hitoshi’s cock up against her wide, waiting hole. Arms shaking with self-control, Hitoshi eased her entire body down, down, down, sinking the indecently long length of his dick into that heavenly heat.
Ashido writhed in his hold, arms and legs clamped around him, face buried in the crook of his neck as she seemed to lose herself to some mindless, encouraging mumbles. She rolled her hips once, twice, pulling out entirely with the strength of a muscular hero’s thighs and core, and dropped back down onto his waiting cock, swallowing him whole and wet and impossibly tight.
She said his name once, damp lips at his ear, and Hitoshi could never tell her that he nearly dropped her right then.
The time for slow had ended – if it ever had been there in the first place.
Delirium set in faster than it should have, but there was something to be said for a hot, curvy handful of writhing white fluff and glittering, lavish gold and an ass that wouldn’t quit riding his cock like the building was about the topple around them. Ashido’s breasts rippled and bounced with each thrust and altered angle, the outrageous swell of them sweat-slick and humid against the press of his face when he hiked her higher in his arms, taking away her ability to control how his dick destroyed her.
The sound of the bathroom door swinging open and two tipsy women chattering as they came in to fix their makeup set them both still, Hitoshi’s face still buried in Ashido’s breasts and wild heartbeat. Balls-deep buried in her juicy cunt, knees shaking, he took a step back to keep her from banging back against the stall and held her in full.
Ashido giggled in his ear, girlish and gleeful as she squeezed her muscles around his dick, her ass just barely circling in his hold, grinding down what little she could.
Hitoshi swallowed against a long groan, muffling the sound in succulent swell of her tits. Carefully, all too conscious of the women just a door away from them and how the thought of getting caught tightened his balls up full and aching against him, Hitoshi rocked up into her hot, dripping hole, slow, slow, relishing the bite of Ashido’s teeth into his shoulder to keep herself quiet as she remained absolutely still and allowed him to fuck into her.
What began as rushed and desperate continued at a thick, sticky, sensuous pace. Hitoshi could feel his cock swelling larger inside of her as he thrust, rolling and deep, knowing how long he was and how she’d feel as though he’d split her in half forever. No relief, no fully pulling away from the wide, fucked-out gape of her pussy, but a deep, dragging rhythm that had her writhing every time he stroked up against her fat, little clit.
Tension thrummed between them, bass music from the club aching through their bodies, Ashido strung high as a string in his hands, sweat prickling at the back of her thighs where he held her tight. The slope of her chest tasted like salt, and the heady, private scent of her arousal sank into the back corners of Hitoshi’s tongue and made his mouth water. Ashido’s breath hitched with the sweet pain of their relentless fucking, and Hitoshi’s body trembled in reply, his jaw bulging with the control not to shout, hips pumping into her loud enough for him to hear the wet slap between them.
The women in the bathroom were drunkenly exchanging phone numbers when Ashido huffed Hitoshi’s name in his ear and came in this full-bodied, head to toe wave of wracking, writhing shudders around his cock, cunt clenching like a vice around him, milking him through an orgasm he’d barely seen coming until she’d rocketed off ahead of him. Cum dripped down the backs of her thighs and ass, slicking over his hands and threatening his hold.
The ladies were leaving and Ashido was a dead weight in his failing arms, but they’re both fucking laughing when he unceremoniously dropped her ass on the toilet seat for blessed relief.
“Holy –“ Ashido raked her shivering hands through bubblegum curls, her expression somehow angelic with joy and amusement as she struggled to tuck her tits back into the tube of a dress. “Holy fuck. We gotta – yeah, we gotta do that again.”
“I mean.” Lips quirked, Histoshi busied himself with righting himself back into his pants while Ashido pulled at some toilet paper to clean up her thighs. “I’m pretty sure this is pretty par for the course.”
“No,” Ashido said, excitement vibrating in her voice. “I mean, with the people around. That was – yeah, that was a whole new level of good.”
“Gee, Ashido, why don’t we just go fucking in the middle of the street?” Hitoshi said, grinning like an idiot as threw her panties at her face and hit his mark.
Ashido sputtered her underwear into her hands, cackling as she stood on wobbly deer legs and slipped them on, a stable hand on Hitoshi’s arm.
“If we could make that work, you know I would.”
“I’m pretty sure they’d cut that out of your television show,” Hitoshi said, mellow and conversational as he melted into the soft buzz of honeyed afterglow.
“A shame, really.” Ashido’s smile was white on black lips on pink skin on gold gaze as she met his warm expression in the mirror while they washed their hands. “’Cause that ass would look fab on camera.”
Hitoshi heaved a sigh, features drawn in lament, his eyes full of humor.
“Master plan foiled. Guess I’ll have to sneak my way into the porn industry some other way.”
“Scratch that.” Ashido waved him off as she gave the hem of her dress on last tug and gestured that they leave. “Everyone would recognize those periwinkle pubes.”
“Wise words. Best stick to what I know. Struggling to be the good guy.”
In the cramped hallway at the back end of the club, Ashido turned and gripped his chin with such sudden strength, Hitoshi inwardly startled into submission.
“Hey.” The gold in Ashido’s eyes shone like lamplight. “You’re the best guy around, okay?”
“I’m sorry, it’s loud in here,” Hitoshi leaned in, smiling wide. “Did you say the best lay? Because I’d be inclined to agree –“
“Oh, fuck you!” Ashido laughed, slapping at his shoulder and turning around, leading him back to the bar.
Lips still curved, one hand in Ashido’s assured one, Hitoshi followed his little sprite of black and gold, and was glad he made it tonight, too.