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A line of drool slides down Izuku’s jaw, slowly making its way to the sheets beneath him. It joins the growing spot that was just a tiny speck on cream-colored fabric a few moments ago. Normally, Izuku would be embarrassed about it, his face burning a deeper shade of red with every second that passes, but it’s nowhere near the most embarrassing thing.
What’s a little bit of saliva compared to the way his mouth is hanging open, short, pleasured noises escaping him without any attempt to stifle them? Or the way his vision is blurred by tears he desperately tries to blink away so he can see Shouto properly? Or the dried streaks of cum across his stomach and chest, one particularly strong orgasm even managing to hit his collarbones? Or how about the fuzzy handcuffs locked around his wrists, the chain connecting them under his knees so he’s forced to keep his legs in the air?
Yeah, drool doesn’t compare to any of those.
It wouldn’t be so bad if they hadn’t been at it for two hours already. Izuku has cum more times than he can count, his dick spent and weakly dribbling thin streams of cum whenever he’s pushed over the edge again. Shouto, however, hasn’t cum once thanks to the ring fit snugly around the base of his dick, holding him back until he’s ready to finish.
The entire time, his thrusts haven’t stopped or slowed down. A bead of sweat falls from a strand of his hair, sending tingles and shockwaves when it lands on Izuku. He’d pull away from overstimulation if it were possible. But Shouto is squeezed between his legs, trapped there by his own design and the handcuffs keeping Izuku’s legs raised. He’s made it impossible for Izuku to run, forcing him to endure.
Izuku has long since lost the ability to speak complete words and the strength in his limbs. All he can do is watch Shouto’s face. His furrowed eyebrows, his clenched jaw, the hair sticking to his forehead, and the quiet grunts and pants are proof that he’s lost in pleasure.
Izuku gasps when his already sore nipple is suddenly pinched, a short whine grating against his throat. “You’re…spacing out,” Shouto tells him, rough pants breaking the sentence. He lowers his head to Izuku’s chest, gently circling his nipple with the tip of his tongue. Then he breathes cool air on it, sending goosebumps across Izuku’s skin as he whispers, “Focus.”
Shouto’s thrusts are becoming more erratic, his hips slamming against the already sensitive and tingling skin of Izuku’s thighs and ass. “I-I…Sho--...I c-ca… ha-aah! ”
His weak attempt at speaking is almost immediately ruined by an uncontrollable moan. Above him, Shouto gets a slight smile, a quiet laugh nearly lost in the wet sound of his dick thrusting in and out of Izuku’s ass. He licks his lips and leans down, playfully biting Izuku’s earlobe.
“Do you know…how fucked you look right now?” he whispers, his following moan piercing right into Izuku’s ear. His voice is husky and rough, scratching pleasantly against his eardrum. “Your eyes are… ngh …glazed. You’re covered in cum. Fuck, you feel so good. You’re drooling…and covered in my bites.”
Izuku whimpers, his ear burning from Shouto’s breath and words. He squeezes his eyes shut, but that only strengthens the feeling of Shouto’s dick sliding inside of him, the soft sheets rubbing against his back, and the white hair tickling his cheek.
“Izuku,” Shouto croons as he thrusts, “you look so dirty. What would…your fans…and coworkers think?”
He bites down harshly on his bottom lip to hold in the sob. If anyone saw Japan’s top hero like this, he'd probably die from humiliation. They’d be seeing him in his weakest, most vulnerable state, the one he’s only just become comfortable with Shouto seeing.
His body is burning at the thought, but he can’t do anything about it. He can’t hide from the shame by covering his head with his arms. Shouto has a front-row seat to the way his ears turn impossibly redder and tears stream down his cheeks and his heart jackrabbits in his chest as his dick gives a feeble twitch.
Izuku is burning up and it feels so good.
A low chuckle sounds in Izuku’s ear just seconds before he feels Shouto’s fingers brushing against his ribs, his stomach jumping from the contact. “Can I come inside?” Shouto whispers, his hand pausing on Izuku’s inner thigh.
Izuku nods so hard he’s surprised his head doesn’t fall off. He tightens his legs around Shouto, somehow holding him closer.
Once the ring comes off Shouto’s cock, he doesn’t last long. He barely manages to thrust twice before burying himself in Izuku, kissing him before he has the chance to moan at the feeling of Shouto’s dick jerking inside him. Izuku can’t focus enough to keep up with Shouto’s tongue, letting him rub and taste as he pleases.
In fact, Izuku can’t focus at all. His brain is empty except for a faint awareness of the tingling spreading from his fingertips and toes to the rest of his body. He can’t think, can barely register that he’s staring at the ceiling, and is thoroughly enjoying every second of it. Being so blissed out means he can’t be bothered to worry about anything; all he can do is bask in pleasure and let his brain stay empty for a few precious minutes.
By the time he starts coming back to awareness, the handcuffs are gone and a soft cloth is gently wiping down his chest. It’s warm and soothing, each movement filled with tender care that almost overwhelms him to the point of tears. Izuku slowly blinks away the daze and stinging in his eyes, letting the ceiling come into focus before looking at Shouto.
His boyfriend is leaning over him, so absorbed in gently wiping away all the cum that he hasn’t noticed Izuku’s gaze yet. His hair is pushed off his forehead, held back with the headband Izuku usually uses after showers, and he has a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Shouto,” Izuku says, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Their eyes meet as that smile becomes bigger, softer, filled with emotions only Izuku is allowed to see. “How are you feeling?” Shouto asks, wiping off the last of the cum before placing the cloth to the side.
He moves closer and places his right hand against Izuku’s cheek. The cool skin feels amazing and he leans into the touch without a second thought. His entire body aches a bit, his wrists are reddened slightly, his throat is dry, and he’s starting to get a headache from crying so much. Despite all of that, he still smiles at Shouto and says, “Relaxed. Thanks.”
Shouto hums in response and carefully helps Izuku sit up to rest against the pillows. “Open your mouth,” he says, reaching towards the nightstand. He grabs a bottle of water and two painkillers, placing them in Izuku’s open mouth before holding the bottle to his lips and slowly tilting it.
Izuku drinks nearly half the bottle before Shouto pulls it away. The movement is practiced, perfected from the many times they’ve done this before. If he lets Izuku drink all of it in one go, he’ll just upset his stomach and feel uncomfortably heavy.
“Clothes?”
Izuku shakes his head, grimacing slightly when that just aggravates the headache. It’s soothed some when Shouto places his cool hand against his forehead, his left arm wrapping around Izuku’s shoulders and pulling him closer. Like this, he can see the red marks on Shouto’s neck, a few of them perfect indentations of his teeth and others just spots where he sucked on the skin. He’s sure there are plenty more all over his own body.
“Close your eyes,” Shouto tells him, his voice soft and coaxing, “I’ll order food and wake you up when it’s here.”
“Something light,” Izuku mumbles, his eyes already slipping shut as he presses his face into Shouto’s neck.
“Of course.”
The response is automatic, and Izuku has the sudden thought that they’ve come a long way since the first time they tried this. Back then, everything was awkward, stilted, and unsure. Izuku wasn’t used to being cared for and Shouto wasn’t used to caring; the first thing he’d done after gaining focus was get up to bathe and only Shouto’s quick reflexes had saved him from collapsing on the floor. He didn’t mention his headache, that the cloth Shouto used to wipe him down was too rough and cold, or that he felt like he was dying of thirst; for his part, Shouto didn’t know to notice these things.
Their ease now is the result of countless trial and error that sometimes left both of them frustrated. Despite that, they’re closer than ever and hardly have to use words to convey wants and needs. It’s comforting, soft, and something Izuku never thought he’d get to experience anytime soon.
But he gets to right now, and he enjoys every second of it. He listens to the steady beat of Shouto’s heart, letting that lull him into something restful but not quite sleeping. Izuku can feel the slight movements of Shouto ordering food on his phone, and he relaxes, knowing everything can be left in Shouto’s capable hands. Later, he’ll return the favor by washing Shouto’s hair and massaging his shoulders, kneading away all the knots that weigh him down.
That’s for later, though. For now, he allows himself to bask in the tender warmth with a soft, happy smile.