He didn't want to push him, he didn't even want to hurt him, as the man had been wincing and wobbling with pain the rest of that week which obviously prompted Nezu to call him to the office and it was during their lunch break that Shouta had stormed out of his classroom with his bag and sleeping bag respectively. He'd disappeared quickly from view out of the building all together and Hizashi felt positively awful for his husband.
It was rare he ever left school like that, very rare that Nezu would make him go home but that day had been one of those times when he was sent home due to his little wobbling steps that could very clearly be identified as limping. Nezu had said during their last meeting, when he told them to do their harlotry in their own time, that if Shouta were to show up limping or Hizashi was limping, then they would be sent home.
No ifs ands or buts allowed; if they had the audacity to come in limping then he had the authority to send them home. And Shouta had been forced to take time off until he was over that little limp of his which he knew the black-haired man hated with a fiery passion. He hadn't come home those two days, choosing instead to stay at his room in the dorm, and refused to talk to him over FaceTime, over the phone even, and his texts were very short with Hizashi, but he knew that more than anything Shouta was angry with himself for what he had done.
As angry at himself as he was at Hizashi as they both played a part in it and Hizashi was quick to own up to his part, his responsibility. After all, he would have to be the most toxic, idiotic person on the planet to deny any part in it. When Shouta did come home after those two days, he had laid with his back to Hizashi, kept his answers very tight and short, and he wouldn't look at him. He understood that.
He knew Shouta would speak with him and look at him openly, freely, with that affectionate gaze and he would turn over in bed to twist their limbs together when he was ready. And he wouldn't have it any other way. It was only recently, on Tuesday, that Shouta had begun doing all of those things very slowly though that tight grip was still in play, but Hizashi wasn't going to wash it away or coax it out of his husband; he wouldn't do anything that made him angry like that again or even close to that upset.
He refused. That's why when Shouta begun silently asking for kisses, for touches, he accepted it slowly. A few pecking kisses here and there, the hands in his own and arms around shoulders and waists when they sat together on the couch until he was having his lap invaded by his husband. All of it was little, docile and tame things that they did in their day-to-day life already. It was only Thursday when they had upgraded to those slow, easy make out sessions in bed late at night or on the couch.
At least, when they had a moment alone without Eri shrieking for them that Hitoshi was being mean and Hitoshi calling her a brat. Sibling things. But he was allowed to grab Shouta's ass, squeeze his hips, playfully nip at his throat and jaw again which he relished in happily though he wasn't confident at all in pushing into sex again after such an ordeal the previous week which he knew was frustrating his husband.
He could see it in those dark eyes of his, the gray of them positively burning when the light caught them just right and yet he refused to do anything more than their established touches and kisses. If Shouta wanted something he would have to say it and Hizashi needed to believe it. That's why, here Friday afternoon, Hizashi was not only in a liquor store staring at the bottles in front of him but had Shouta texting him explaining his late hour and requesting they just order out tonight which Hizashi was all too happy to comply with.
Why cook when the man was exhausted? Frustrated? Shouta wasn't the type to snap, to lose his cool, however there was one time when they were moving out of the apartment into the house on their combined income after putting down a mortgage on the place, that Shouta had snapped and threw a whole frying pan across the room when he burned something. A frying pan. Across the kitchen.
It only happened once, a rare occurrence, but it still happened and Hizashi didn't want to risk something like that happening again as his husband refused to touch the stove or anything heavy again for a whole month before he was cooking dinner again. He sent a text back to his husband, his thumbs doing a little dance above the screen as he debated adding anything else to it before tapping the send button and sliding the phone into his pocket alongside his wallet as he then stared at the shelf before him.
Did he go with familiar or something new? He wasn't unwilling to go with new but what if Shouta didn't like it? He wanted to make sure it was something Shouta would drink, something that he would enjoy, and something nice to take off the edge he'd seen crawling up the man's back making his shoulders hitch higher and higher each passing day. He crossed his arms across his chest, lifting his left hand up to drum his fingers against his pursed lips as he continued letting his gaze flick over the bottles before him.
He knew he personally wouldn't be drinking much, maybe a sip or two, but that was just fine with him. He'd had a problem, a very bad problem, with alcohol in his past so the most he ever trusted himself with was a sip or two but if he thought he could control himself he would indulge much more in it though he often didn't do that when Shouta would look at him intensely. A look that others would mistake as a scowl at him though he would see the worry in them.
The mild panic that flared each time he lifted a bottle to his lips so he would skip out on indulging depending on how his husband felt. How he felt. It wasn't easy sticking to that type of control, but it was better than getting plastered every damn day and having a screaming match with Shouta over 'his life' and his choices. God, that was awful. He wouldn't ever forget how wide and hurt those eyes got each time he brought up Oboro.
Each time he shrieked and screamed that it was his life, and he could throw it away, treat it like shit, all he wanted and there wasn't anything Shouta or God or Nemuri or anyone could do about it. He hated those words, the fact he'd ever said them, with a fiery passion. He frowned when he blinked himself out of those thoughts in favor of reaching for snagging two twelve packs off of the shelf; one being his husband's number one go to and the other being a new flavor.
He knew Shouta wasn't the type to choose a fruity drink he just hoped that this wasn't a fuck up on his part to get something new. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket as he walked up to the counter placing the cases down carefully. The one thing he liked about this store is the cashier that often worked didn't like small chit chat which he could get behind; he could understand that given the type of person his husband was.
Which is why he pulled his phone out to send a text back to his husband quickly, stuffing the device back in his pocket, in order to pull out his wallet when the cashier grunted out his total quietly. He handed over his ID, naturally, and his credit card once the ID was handed back to him in record time; he knew realistically he never needed too as the cashier along with the manager that popped out always claimed they knew he'd been coming here for years but he still slapped down that card of his for them to make sure he was an adult.
A functioning adult but they didn't need to know that. He just needed it for his own benefits. He took his credit card back sliding it into his wallet then shoving that into his pocket as he accepted the receipt before tugging the bag off the counter feeling the weight of it threatening to drop his hand down as he waved to the cashier in a silent goodbye, a hand raising in response. He was out the door towards his motorcycle in seconds, pausing just in front of it to admire the sight of it.
If Shouta's car was his pride and joy, then this was Hizashi's. He had been gifted the motorcycle when they were twenty-six, right around the time they had gotten engaged, and he'd had more than enough spending money to buy himself one, but Nemuri beat him to the punch when she displayed the vehicle with a grand sweeping gesture. He'd loved it from the first second he laid eyes on it. It was a cruiser model, the seat low and a literal dream to sit on, the reach he had to make to the handlebars- it was amazing.
In short, he loved the thing, and he paid big bucks to make sure it stayed sharp as that first second he'd sat on the thing it had been just as magical as those scenes in Disney movies when everything slides into place with the princess. Cinderella with her slipper, Ariel with her legs, Sleeping Beauty- Eh, maybe not her. But the multiple others are the comparison he aimed for when telling Shouta about it; like he himself was a Disney princess who had just gotten his slipper, his legs, his pretty, pretty ball dress that he adored.
It was his baby. He moved out of his still position to swing his leg over the seat plopping down, the satisfaction swelling up delightedly in him, as he placed the bag down at his foot for a moment as he pulled his phone out of his pocket to not only send yet another text to his husband but to quickly put in an order for delivery. Shouta hadn't specified what he wanted for dinner leaving it ambiguous and so it prompted Hizashi to go with a more American styled meal for the night.
The restaurant they normally went too specialized in burgers and had an amazing menu for pasta dishes which he was really feeling tonight. Pasta was always a mood, a desire, even if he knew some part of his brain would always whisper his adoptive mother, Kimiko's stupid little phrase "a moment on the lips forever on the hips" and he scoffed at himself when the app opened. He would never understand why his mother obsessed over his appearance more than he did, always trying to curb his cravings.
While that was natural for any parent it still irked him to this day how her little "helpful advice" tidbits kept him from enjoying most foods. He knew it wasn't malicious, that she cared about his health, but dammit did she have to say that to him? Of course, his other adoptive mother, Yuki, would always scolded her, prompting Hizashi to eat as he liked. However, it was still the fact his other mother said those things even if she really was trying to help.
He sighed to himself as he scrolled through the menu, picking out the usual order for Shouta along with a drink for the man that wasn't alcoholic in nature and then chose a new item for himself to try only to throw in an appetizer and he paused for a moment debating if he should add a desert. Shouta loved the desserts and if he was stressed, he'd be asking for chocolate anyhow. More than likely he'd finish off the tub of ice cream in the freezer tonight if he didn't.
So with that in mind he got a dessert for himself and Shouta placed it for delivery, then shoved his phone into his pocket and grabbed his helmet slipping it onto his head fiddling with it just a bit until it was sitting comfortably like it always did. Then he reached down picking up the back placing the handles in the crook of his elbow. He pulled the keys from his pocket sliding it into the ignition, twisting, and sighing happily to himself when it roared to life beneath him with a rumble that snarled as he lifted then tucked his legs close to the sides.
He pulled out of the spot he'd stopped in, the engine snarling as he delightedly twisted the handles, a giddy giggle bursting out of him when he did so as he navigated out of the parking lot. He really did act like a child with his motorcycle, content to merely sit in the seat and rev the engine multiple times in a row; actually, he had done that, and Shouta had come out to shout at him to stop.
He knew that his husband didn't care for the motorcycle as much as Hizashi did; in fact, he'd been a worried mess each time the blonde hopped onto it, and he knew that, but he had coaxed Shouta onto the back of it many times now. While his husband claimed those many rides that he didn't see the appeal he admitted he could understand the rush, he strange vulnerability on the motorcycle and he never balked when offered a ride by Hizashi though he did often times decline if he was busy.
While he knew he could drive without a helmet, that he could risk it, there was one time Shouta had caught him puling in without one the man had positively snarled at him in the living room for hours about the proper safety. Like being a pro-hero was dripping in safety for himself but he bit that sarcastic reply back. Which lead to the helmet. He wore it faithfully after his husband asked- well, he pleadingly demanded that he wear it and he did.
He often brushed off the littler concerns Shouta would have but this? This he understood and respected. He realistically knew he didn't need to take the bike out at all given the liquor store was a mere twenty minutes from home, but the ride shaved it to maybe an eight-minute ride and he hadn't ridden the bike in a long time so why not? He had everything ready; Shouta could drink to his heart's content, he had the weed he got earlier when he left work, and he had the food on the way. All in all, he was prepared to give Shouta a fun, comfort filled night and he felt excited by that thought alone. His husband had no idea what was waiting for him at home.
Hizashi would like to say he wasn't taken by surprise when it came to his husband too often, that he knew the man like the back of his hand, yet this sex challenge of theirs was proving that sexually he was slamming him in the face out of left field with surprise after surprise. Tonight, however, he was absolutely awed at the sight of his husband guzzling drink after drink. Worried even.
Shouta was already five drinks in, half of the pack that was his favorite, and Hizashi was in danger of dropping the bowl held in his hand as he watched Shouta knock back drink after drink. He was buzzing, positively high out of his mind but his husband? He was getting fucked up. Really fucked up. And he wasn't slowing down any time soon which was... concerning. Just what had happened in this week alone that could provoke someone to guzzle alcohol like that?
To drink bottle after bottle like he was dehydrated, and those bottles held his only chance at getting some liquid in his body? It was a strange sight as Shouta was always a very careful drinker, wasn't one to throw caution to the wind and slam down drinks like it was no one's business. If anything, that had been Hizashi's way of drinking; accepting bottle after bottle chugging them down, accepting random cups from random people at parties and slamming it down without a second thought about it and throwing caution to the wind.
How he never got drugged he'll never know but that was the thing; that was how he drank, not Shouta. In fact, Shouta would always pull him aside to snap at him about accepting drinks from strangers and would always cause little fights between them during those days. Shouta insisting he needed to slow down, to not accept all those drinks, and Hizashi spitting back he could drink as he wanted.
That was how they both viewed drinking in a sense back then. But now? With Shouta drinking that way? He needed to say something. He needed to say something now before his husband drank himself into a damn hospital and was required to have his stomach pumped. He'd had it done on himself and he could attest that it was fucking awful to go through.
"Sho?" He got a hum from the black-haired man, the bottle halfway to his lips only to stop when those dark gray eyes of his landed on him curiously though they were glazed over; like he was looking but not actually seeing. It wasn't as bad as it could be, but it still had him squirming in place as he cleared his throat lightly.
Well, this is going to go one of two ways. He just hoped that it went the easier out of both of them; not that Shouta was ever a truly angry drunk, the man could be very stubborn and that stubborness could occasionally lead the way to anger. It was just hard when his husband refused to listen when he was a few drinks in but then there was the other miraculous times his husband did listen to him. It was just a matter of going about it the right way. Black lashes fluttered prompting him to clear his throat again then offer a little smile.
"Sho, baby, why don't you take a break, huh? I-It's not going anywhere, we can do this again tomorrow if you really want to, but why not slow down tonight? You don't have to drink so fast and so much, baby! Enjoy your buzz while you have it, don't get black out drunk on a Friday night! That's not way to kick off your weekend and you'll give yourself a killer hang over in the morning, you know you will."
'Yeah, but you just said it's Friday. Why not get drunk now? You told me I could drink when I go' home, so why are you getting worried now?" His words were far from slurring though they came out slowly, lilting in a way that could be mistaken as loopy and he bit his lip staring at his husband's face when the dark brows came together tightly on his forehead, a frown tugging at the corner of Shouta's lips.
There was a soft flush to his cheeks, the heat of the alcohol no doubt working to make him warm from head to toe and Hizashi had to admit some part of him longed to feel that heat, but he fought it. He wouldn't drink when his husband was guzzling those drinks, wouldn't do that either way, and besides even if he did indulge in drinking with him then who would make that call if something bad happened? Sure, he was high as a damn kite, but it was leagues better than getting black out drunk. No matter how much his brain whispered that he should cut loose and get drunk with Shouta.
"Zashi, you- What's the matter? Is it bothering you?"
"It's not bothering me in the way you think." He mumbled back looking away from his husband for a moment who was shifting towards him, the bottle thumping onto the table as it was put down, and he looked up at the black-haired man when he leaned forward reaching for Hizashi's cheeks making him jump. "Just- Don't drink so fast. Take your time is all I'm asking. We started an hour ago and you're already five drinks in, baby!"
"Really? I-I drank five so far? I'm sorry, Zashi, I didn' notice that."
"It's alright, Sho, I just don't want you making yourself sick because trust me a hospital trip wouldn't look good for either of us if it got around Eraserhead got his fucking stomach pumped while Present Mic is higher than a kite. Not exactly the type of thing you'd want going around, baby, so take it easy, okay?"
Dark brows were tugged together tightly, the crease between them making his husband's nose scrunch up just a bit, his eyes staring at him intently making him want to sigh at the thought that a blow up was coming; Shouta, whether others believed it, was a rather expressive and emotional drunk. There was no telling what emotion would come out first but more often than not he could be a pretty angry drunk at a second's notice.
The last thing he wanted was to get into nothing fights with his husband all night long. He was surprised, however, when Shouta scooted forward throwing his legs up into his lap and arms curled around his shoulders as the man squirmed to get comfortable in his lap as he placed the bowl on the table as fast as he could making it rock side to side though that didn't stop his husband. He curled up in his arms like he really was a large cat, his head tucking itself beneath his chin.
Then he wrapped an arm around his lower back with the other going to his legs to tug them upwards until his knees pressed against his side lightly making the man in his arms giggle quietly. A giggle? "Mmmmkay, Zashi, I'll slow down. Anythin' for you, baby."
Oh, that was weird. While Shouta was no stranger to calling him 'love' or 'darling' in the moment, they weren't very often and used rather sparingly but 'baby'? It was weird to hear that from his husband, but it made his heart skip, his stomach to flutter and it triggered a weak blush in his cheeks to hear his husband's voice calling him that. Sure, it was loopy sounding and sighed out softly after that giggle, but it triggered a series of reactions in his body that had nothing to do with that high making his head positively spin when he moved his head too fast.
He squeezed his arms around Shouta making the man giggle against his throat again, the sound foreign from the man, yet he adored the sound as it had his stomach fluttering again with that airy feeling and he had to admit he wanted to make his husband laugh like that more often. He wasn't the type to giggle but goddamn if the sound was adorable. The TV murmured quietly with the movie they'd chosen, a Harry Potter movie maybe?
He looked up curiously at the screen. Nope, that was Twilight. Which one was it? He couldn't remember, all he remembered was cackling with Shouta when they tried reciting the cringier lines only to stop once Shouta had spit out "Hang on tight, spider monkey" and Hizashi absolutely lost it. That was when they'd sat down for dinner and that had been when Shouta was starting in on his second drink.
"Thank you, Sho."
"Mmmhmmmm."
It was quiet then save for the TV where some dramatic plot point was taking place, but Hizashi could hardly focus on the screen when lips were being pressed against is throat sending deep tingles down to his shoulder and his breath hitched quietly when Shouta shifted himself in a rubbing motion against his thighs. It was sweet but distracting. A bit exciting. He squeezed the man in his arms giving him yet another quiet giggle though this one sounded breathier than the others sending a little shiver down his spine.
It was mischievous, is what it sounded like. He swallowed eyeing the bowl on the table wondering if a hit would enhance the feeling or wash it away. He'd been struggling, really trying not to push his husband for anything more than those gentle make out sessions, never letting his hands wander more than his hips or ass. Never allowing a grinding rhythm between them even if Shouta's breath was hitching quietly with excitement, he fought his own down as he would prompt the man to sleep.
It was too soon, he worried he wouldn't hold back, and he'd make both of them limp. But it was Friday. No one would see them. And yet what if it lingered longer than the weekend? What did he do then? So, he abstained from it. No matter how many irritated or annoyed glances he got from his husband. No matter how many times he snuck off out of the bedroom all together just to masturbate where Shouta wouldn't hear him.
God, he wanted more, he wanted to kickstart their sex life again like they always did after their breaks so far, but he didn't want Shouta upset again. He knew how much it bothered his husband to take a break or be sent home from work when he hadn't missed a day of it; not even when he got fucked up at the USJ and was quite literally a mummy for weeks. He let out a slow breath rubbing his hand up and down Shouta's back as those lips continued placing soft little kisses up and down the side of his neck, along his throat softly until they were crawling up his jaw.
Fuck. The man had just gotten to his cheek when he pulled back pushing at his arms making him blink when Shouta not only wriggled free but stood up on swaying feet. "Sho? What are you doing?"
"I gotta piss, I'll be back."
And he stumbled around the coffee table out of the living room and down the hallway to their bathroom no doubt making him sigh softly as he raised his hands up to pluck his glasses off, rubbing at his face fiercely with a low groan against his palms. That man is going to be the death of him, and they both knew it. He pressed his palm to his mouth leaning forward, elbows finding his knees as he let his gaze flicker over to the bottle sitting on the table with a speculative glance.
He could dump it out, say he actually finished it. But that wouldn't stop him. He'd wait an hour or two then pop open another bottle. He didn't disapprove of Shouta drinking, far from it. If his husband wanted to get drunk, he would let him; if a drink at the end of a particularly hard or stressful day, week, month was what Shouta wanted then he didn't care if his husband wanted to knock back a few. Just because he was sober, for all intents and purposes, didn't mean that everyone around him had to abstain from drinking. He just didn't want Shouta drinking so fast.
He sighed picking his glass up sliding them back on his face, pressed against his hearing aids gently just to make sure that they were in snugly before reaching for his lighter and the bowl lifting both up as he leaned back on the couch with another huffing breath leaving him. He wouldn't dictate his husband's actions, nor would he force him to stop drinking but he would make him slow down.
Five drinks in one hour was a lot and Shouta knew that but for some reason it didn't stop him from doing that tonight. He pressed his lips to the end of the bowl, flicking his thumb over the wheel then tilting the flame to the bowl then pulled it away pulling deeply on the end watching the glow from the other end as he pulled it away, holding it down. One. Two. Three. Four. He blew it out with a cough that had his chest shuddering lightly when he heard the stumbling foot falls of his husband returning.
Startled when Shouta swung into view in the doorway, catching himself on the other making Hizashi jump when the man laughed lightly before pushing off stumbling into the room right over to the couch where he threw himself down. "Jesus, Sho, don't scare me like that!"
"'m fine! Hey, Zashi, give me a shotgun!" He crowed delightedly staring up with those dark eyes of his, his cheeks far redder than before it seemed and there was a sparkle in his glazed eyes as he smiled up at him with a look of excitement like a child asking for a treat and expecting it any moment now.
He raised a brow at the black-haired man who scooted closer to him until his leg was thrown over Hizashi's, an arm around his shoulders again, and he sighed out putting the bowl between his thigh and the arm of the couch before reaching down tugging his husband's legs back up into his lap. He figured that Shouta would ask for a hit eventually but a shotgun? Well, maybe that would be easier on him as he wouldn't have to focus on lighting and holding the bowl in those clumsy hands.
"Zashiiiii, please?"
"Chill, chill, baby! I gotta pack the bowl again and then I'll give you a shotgun, okay?"
The wide, victoriously smug smile he got from Shouta had his brows raising at the sight and he clicked his piercing against his teeth making the man laugh again as he reached down grabbing the bowl then leaning forward around those bent legs to grab the bag on the coffee table. He wiggled his fingers inside grabbing a chunk then grunted lightly when the legs kept him from leaning all the way forward.
While he tried breaking it apart then gathering it on his fingers to get the new weed into the bowl the best he could, Shouta started covering the side of his face in those little kisses again. It was distracting though he didn't know if it was a good way or a bad way. He then felt those lips abandon his face making him look over in time to see his husband picking up that bottle bringing it to his lips like he would have had he not said anything.
He watched, his hands stilling, as his husband tilted his head back gulping at the liquid. He watched his Adam's Apple bob with each swallow, a little breath leaving his nose when he paused to take another sip, and too soon that bottle was being dropped though it was thankfully empty making the man bend forward thudding his forehead off the coffee table.
"Jesus Christ, how can you already be sloppy? I get that you're an emotional drunk, baby, but you're already in that clumsy, sloppy phase? You definitely need to slow your ass down."
"I will!" Shouta snapped at him when he sat up rubbing his forehead, his eyes narrowing for a second on him, before huffing out a breath letting those eyes drift to his hands as he resumed getting the bowl packed.
He tapped the weed lightly to make sure it was good, then leaned back holding his lighter again when he turned his head to stare at Shouta, the black-haired man dropping his hand from his forehead that bore a light red mark from the hit nearly making him laugh. He felt his husband squirm forward until he was as close to his lap as he could get without climbing into it, his feet lightly tapping at the arm of the couch, as he watched with a strange fascination as Hizashi flicked the lighter life while lifting the bowl to his lips.
He brought the flame down, the weed flaring to life as he inhaled deeply then lowered his hand and Shouta leaned forward in the same movement he used to lean in, lips parted as he pressed them to Shouta's then blew every whisp of smoke in his chest into the waiting mouth as he heard his husband inhale. What should have been a simple touch and pull wasn't. He twitched when a hand cupped his cheek, holding his face there.
Shouta breathed that smoke out of his nose the best that he could though it leaked from between their lips as well, but he took a sharp breath when Shouta let out a soft hum as he pushed his tongue forward to touch his own. His eyes shot open as he let out a little noise himself when he moved his own tongue instinctively against the one rubbing, attempting to twist and flick at his own as if to coax him into moving it only for him to stop as he pulled back after what could have been a minute of that treatment to look at his husband.
Black lashes quivered before lifting as he stared at that flushed face, the temptation that laid before him to cover those full lips with his own, but he merely squeezed his arm around Shouta's legs. "Sho, what are you doing?"
"Kissing you, idiot. What's wrong with that?" Shouta demanded leaning forward to no doubt to capture his lips again only for his own cheeks to burn at the condescending tone of his husband prompting him to turn his head too sharply, too fast, as it gave him that spinning sensation that had his eyes shutting when lips found his cheek.
He heard the annoyed grunt, lips pressing against his face moving to find his lips, determined in their movements and he tilted his head until lips were against his ear, and he heard quite clearly that angry little growl Shouta often made when he was getting really tired of Hizashi's behavior. "Give me your fucking face, Zashi, I want to kiss you."
"Shouta, you're drunk!"
"And you're high! What's the fucking difference?" Shouta growled against his ear reaching the hand that had been cupping his cheek back to it in an attempt to turn his face towards him again and as much as he wanted to, as much as he longed too, he couldn't.
Shouta would be mad. He would be upset. And he had sworn he wouldn't make him feel that way but just how long could he hold out again? He wanted to touch him. He wanted to feel him, and he wanted to kiss Shouta until his head really was spinning; until he was gasping for air. He wanted to feel the warmth of that pale skin beneath his hands, he wanted to trace scars, trace his hips and waist until Shouta was squirming in his lap whimpering out his name in that way that never failed to drive him crazy. He wanted too so badly.
"Hizashi! I said give me your goddamn face! I ain't gonna ask again!"
"Shouta, goddammit! You're drunk! You don't actually know what you're doing!" He snapped back at his husband making another little growl leave Shouta as he shifted then dropping his legs from the blonde's lap, kicking his arm away and he wondered if his husband was going to storm off to the be- Nope.
Nope, he was not storming off. He left leg swung over his lap allowing him to drop down into it, his hands grabbing the blonde's face trying to get him to look head on at him, but he fought against them as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly as if he could avoid looking at his husband's red face. Those eyes that had to be flaming with anger at him. Annoyance. "You don't even know what you're asking for! Come on, sober up first and then we can do whatever you want to do!"
"No! 'm fine! I want to kiss you, Hizashi, and I'm going to!"
He practically snarled those words at him, the irritation ringing clear and unmistakable in that tone when he refused to move his face until those fingers dug into his cheeks fiercely in an attempt to get him to move his head which would jerk towards Shouta before he was twisting it back in place. A huffing, annoyed breath left his husband, and he smelled the alcohol on it further solidifying the proof that his husband wasn't in his right mind because of it.
Yet why was he feeling those tingles? The excitement that was pricking curiously at him? The hands then stopped tugging, stopped pulling at him and he held his breath when he heard a whimper fall out of Shouta. Was it a trick? Was he making the noise so he would look? Another whimper left the man only for it to be followed by a shaky breath that on its exhale sounded suspiciously like a sob. A sob?
He snapped his head forward looking at his husband with wide eyes to see large tears gathering in his eyes when just seconds ago he sounded angry. Annoyed beyond belief and now he looked heartbroken. Crestfallen. "Shout-"
"Do you not want too?" The question trembled out of his husband making his eyes widen at the man who was quite literally flipping faster than he could ever hope to flip a TV channel. F
aster than a teenager looking at porn for the first time and their parent had just walked in prompting them to close the whole window. What was actually going on? He was drunk. He had to be very drunk if he was letting those emotions rule him so completely. Just what was the alcohol percentage in those drinks? Was it higher than he thought? Or did Shouta drink more when he left the room for the bathroom?
If so, then where was the evidence? The little sob that left Shouta had him blinking out of his thoughts just in time to see tears dripping down those red cheeks making his eyes widen further. Holy shit, what? "Zashi, do you not want me anymore? Am I an-annoying now? You won't touch me anymore! Why? Why won't you touch me? Why won't you kiss me? Do you not like me anymore?"
"No! No, Sho, don't say that! Baby, you're drunk as hell right now and you're not thinking right so you're just ge-"
"Then why won't you touch me?" Shouta's shout was a roar aimed right at his face, his tears dripping off his jaw making him lean back against the couch as he stared up at the anger transforming those features until that trembled away for one of such utter despair.
A look that gripped him as viciously as it would if Shouta had shoved his hand right into his chest and squeezed his heart tightly in his fist. What happened? What changed so suddenly? He was lost. He was very, very lost and the high wasn't helping him one bit. "Zashi, I don't- You always wanna kiss me! Why don't you want to kiss me now? It's ne-never stopped you before! Why does it matter now? You won't even touch me! It's not fair! It's not fair at all! I want you t-to kiss me more and to-touch me!"
And then everything he'd done the past week crashed into him. Hard. Had he been doing more harm than good by being so hesitant with his husband? Or was this just the ramblings of a drunk man? How was he to tell? How could he tell? He was high as shit which obviously meant he wasn't any more sober than Shouta was. And yet he was panicking as he stared up wide eyed at the man on his lap who was openly sniffling as he rubbed the sleeve of his shirt against his nose as those tears dripped down his cheeks.
What- How did things go from zero to a hundred so damn fast? "Shouta, baby, you know I love you! I love you so much, sweetheart, you know that! I- You're not in sound mind to make that choice and I don't-"
"I am! I'm not so fucking drunk I don't know what I want!" Shouta snapped at him again though his voice wobbled, bordering on another shout as he slammed his hands forward to the back of the couch staring at Hizashi like he wasn't crying and like he wasn't absolutely drunk at that moment.
Those dark, gray eyes were burning a hole straight through his head and yet he couldn't tear his eyes away from the display before him; his husband staring at him stubbornly, his eyes holding that glaze to them, and lashes fluttering in fast blinks that sent more tears down those red cheeks. "I want to kiss you and I want to touch you, Zashi, and I want you to want that too! I need you so mu-much and it's not fair you won't do anything with me! You've been weird since that fu-fucking rat made me take time off! Ever since I came home!"
"I've been-!" He cut himself off when his voice raised incredulously, high with his shock when the black-haired man seemed to assume just what he was about to say -assumed so completely wrong- but nodded with a stiffness that somehow was firm in his conviction.
As if he was confirming his own words from seconds ago, confirming the wrong thing that Hizashi had been about to say. Confirming everything he'd said in that trembling, airy voice that had struggled horribly to be firm and trying to seem serious to Hizashi. Like he was yelling at a student. It was hard to take that seriously when Shouta Aizawa was sitting in his lap, crying and speaking with such a trembling voice; something no one in a million years would ever believe possible.
He wanted to snap at his husband that he wasn't making any sense, that he was babbling and incoherently spitting out sentences because he was drunk but something told him that he needed to be very careful with his next words. Whatever he said next could be the right or wrong move, could be the move that made his husband happy or made him flip to either an angry screaming mess or a sobbing one.
"Shouta, sweetheart, you know perfectly well how much I want and need you! You have to understand, baby, that at the time you'd just fucked yourself within an inch of your fucking life and were limping. You were upset and I didn't want to make it worse. That doesn't mean I don't want you."
"So, then you do? D-Do you want me?"
"Of course, I do, baby! How could I not want you?"
"How much?"
"Very much."
"When? W-When do you want me?"
He let his lips curl up into a little smile as he looked up at those wet eyes, lashes sticking together, a little smile on Shouta's face as well when he felt those hands move from their position on the back of the couch to curl around his shoulders loosely and he slid his hands up Shouta's thighs to his waist. Squeezing softly, kneading at curve of it, making the man's smile widen with a look of hope. Of excitement again.
"I want you all the time, baby! Every day, every hour, every minute of the day I want you. If I could have it my way, we would never leave that bed, we'd never put clothes on again, and I'd have you all to myself all the time! If I also had it my way, we'd have none of those bodily functions, we wouldn't need to breathe or eat or drink anything. Sort of like the vampires of Twilight, not needing to eat or breathe! We'd never have a need besides each other, and I'd keep us locked away so no one could ever bother us, and I'd love you to my heart's content and until you're sick of it."
"That was sappy, Zashi. Really sappy." Shouta's voice trembled lightly though it was due to the snickers flying out of him now as he spoke, his eyes lit with amusement though that look of hope and excitement remained on his face as he stared at the blonde who chuckled softly as he slid his arms around his waist tugging him firmly into his lap.
Closer, until their chests were inches away much like their faces and Shouta seemed utterly thrilled by the movement. He could hear the hitches in those breaths he took, trembling against his jaw when he shifted, and he lightly twisted the fabric of his husband's shirt around his fingers while hands slid up into his own hair to begin curling and uncurling locks of hair around those fingers. Then he watched an emotion flicker in those eyes darkening them for just one split second though it sent a shiver down his spine to see it.
Being this close, he heard the quiet subtle sound of his husband swallowing. "What about now? Do you want me now?"
Why did this feel like a make it or break it question? Like they were balancing on a knife's edge and the question was the rope holding them up there, ready to be cut at a moment's notice sending them tumbling over one side or the other. He hesitated, sucking in a breath and holding it down before rushing out when Shouta leaned in kissing his jaw softly then letting his lips crawl down to his throat slowly like he was giving him time to think but also on the edge of just taking what he wanted.
Much like seconds ago he knew he needed to be very careful with what he said next. He needed to consider his words and he needed to piece them together in a way that wouldn't seem hurtful or like he was rejecting him in any way even if every bit of him was screaming for him to take the opportunity. It wasn't taking advantage, was it? If they were both fucked up? Or was it still taking advantage because Shouta was drunk, and he was simply high?
"Shouta, you know that I want you all the time and now isn't any different but-"
"No buts!" Shouta barked against his throat before pulling back with a scowl on his face now like he had been displeased by that simple word, his fingers tightening on his hair when his knees squeezed together on either side of his lap gently as he readjusted himself.
And it was this simple movement of readjusting his weight, his position, that his hips settled down lower against Hizashi and he felt a breath fly out of him when Shouta moved his hips in a rolling movement downwards against him, his chest pressing against his own. He shivered when he felt his warm breath against his ear, the sound quiet even with it being so close to his hearing aid, and yet he was clutching at his husband's waist to- what? Stop him? Coax him on? What did he want to do? Was it better to stop him? Or was it better to go on? He didn't want to take advantage, he didn't want to seem like he was-
"Zashi, I can make my own decisions. I want to and I promise I'll want to in the morning. I need you, baby. Don't you need me too? Don't you need to be in me? It's been a while and I need you, Zashi! I need you to kiss me, to touch me! I need you to just fuck me on this goddamn couch tonight and I need it now! Won't you do it? Please, baby? Please? I can feel how hard you are, Zashi, baby, so please? I want too, I'm giving my consent so please? Won't you?"
"Don't do that, don't give me those puppy dog eyes! Shouta, come on you're not being fai-"
"Please? Please, Zashi?"
How did one person sound so sweet and so wicked at the same time? How did a person bat their eyes innocently yet say the wickedest things with their mouth? How did he, in his state, say no to this? How did he fully say no and not regret it later? Shouta would be upset, angry if he said no and he would be those things in the morning if he found out what happened tonight and that he hadn't gotten what he wanted.
Shouta could be a notorious pouter when he wanted to be and Hizashi wasn't sure he'd be able to keep to himself if he had to see that pout all day long. But did Shouta really understand just what he was asking? Would he remember in the morning? He wasn't sure. He didn't know what to do in a situation like this. A situation he didn't understand. Something he must have been in with Shouta before, but he never remembered it so how did it count?
He felt those lips on his throat, soft and fluttering in their movements much like those breaths hitching hopefully, excitedly against his skin making him groan when those hips ground down firmly against him making his hips jump instinctively to grind back pulling a moan from his husband. What did he do? What did he say that was right? Where was his strength to say no? "Shouta-"
"Zashi, baby, please! I need you, I need you so badly, so please? Please?"
Helpless. Weak. He was giving in with that voice, that beautifully deep voice whimpering against his throat in such a desperate way that he was twisting to lay Shouta down against the cushions making him whine preemptively only for his eyes to widen, squirming to adjust himself when Hizashi leaned above him. He shouldn't do this. He really shouldn't do it. Yet his husband, Shouta, was looking up at him with those dark gray eyes of his with lashes still wet from his tears and his cheeks flushed that brilliant red hue.
Lips parted with those soft yet quick breaths as his hair fanned against the cushion beneath him awkwardly. He was looking at him with a hopeful, begging expression that was painful to look at. He groaned leaning forward as Shouta's legs wrapped around him when he situated himself between his legs, leaning down capturing those lips with his own earning himself an eager sounding moan as placed a hand onto the cushion just above Shouta's head.
He could think in a second. It didn't immediately have to jump to sex, he could give Shouta two out of three and see how it goes from there. He raised his brows when Shouta kissed him eagerly, moving his lips quickly as if to coax Hizashi into the same state, the same mental place that he was at in that moment and he had to admit he was all too happy to copy the movement of his husband's lips. He could sit and marvel all day how soft, how full, how perfectly those lips molded to his until he was falling into his role of kissing that man silly.
Of relishing in the softness, the smooth nearly silken feel of those lips beneath his as he kissed the man with the emotion, he dared to pour into the kiss only to feel heels digging into his lower back coaxing him down. His first instinct was to pull back, to scold him, to fight against those heels that were digging insistently into him, yet he didn't. He let himself be tugged down by that insistent pushing until his hips were flush to Shouta's earning him a happily little whine from the man.
Shouta was kissing him so fervently it was making his head spin. Was it the high from the weed or the high of merely kissing Shouta? Both were highs he was familiar with, yet he was weightless, positively floating in his skin and his only anchor was the legs around his waist squeezing him tightly; he knew that, if he did go through and give in like he knew he was, that he was going to sleep good.
He just had to make sure it wasn't in the living room with his pants around his ankles. Literally. He was pulled from his thoughts when fingers drifted lightly up his cheeks no doubt to tangle into his hair when he pulled back from the kiss earning a huff of protest from his husband. He sat up just enough to pull his glasses off, reaching over to place them on the table, and while his vision was pretty shitty at least this close he could still see what he wanted to see.
The glazed eyes that seemed to be affected by more than just the alcohol he'd chugged earlier for he could see the lust there, the desire sparking, and the way he could just barely see those pupils expanding in the darkness of his irises, the wet trembling lashes, his red cheeks, his lips that trembled lightly as he tipped his face up. Hands tugging at his head insistently as those feet had dug into his lower back and the minute, he got those glasses on the table he was bending down covering Shouta's trembling lips with his own.
He hears the sharp inhale that quickly came out as a happy sigh from his husband when he resumed that quick, eager kissing that Hizashi didn't bother to fight in deepening. No longer short little movements of the lips but rather longer, slower kisses that still held that eagerness to them on Shouta's end as the man twisted his fingers into his hair, the light tug making him shiver. He wanted to believe he was better than some horny teenager.
That he was an adult who didn't want to have sex with his drunken husband while high yet here he was. Shamelessly, happily, eagerly, excitedly and perhaps even lustfully kissing his husband with those slow, deep kisses that had both of their breaths trembling lightly. He wanted nothing more than to pull back, coax his husband into bed like he had every other night, promise tomorrow that they'd do something even better tomorrow and yet there was a tiny thrill to this situation.
A thrill he wished he could ignore. He knew during his drunken periods back when they were young that he and Shouta slept together all the time, fucked around and did God knows what that he wouldn't remember in the morning, and it was always a strange prick of excitement that following morning. That he had done as he pleased, had loved the black-haired man the way he wanted too and was able to be as wild as he dared to be in those drunken hours.
He wouldn't say he got off on it, but rather it did provide for some wild stories from Shouta when he'd wake the next day. Tonight, however, was different. So very different. He wasn't drunk but Shouta was. He was higher than a kite, his mind flying away at a moment's notice to marvel over the texture of the couch beneath his hand. The quiet murmur of whatever Twilight movie was playing on the tv.
Or the way the weather had been so unbelievably nice that he wondered if he could convinced Shouta to go for a ride then to thinking about their leftovers sitting in the fridge. And Shouta would squirm, release a small sound as their lips moved together and he'd be drawn right back to the task at hand and would throw himself into the kiss only for his mind to drift off lazily again. A repeating process.
It was only when he was shifting slightly, pulling his hips away from his husband's for a mere second, that a hand was moving from his hair to his chest. Moving down to his stomach which quivered under those fingertips, a shaky breath leaving him when the hand moved away only for his free hand to be grabbed by Shouta's and he'd like to say he had no idea just what Shouta was going to do with it but that would be an awful lie.
The quiet moans from both of them mingled together as his hand was pressed against the bulge of his husband's erection, the hand gripping his wrist moving his own in a rubbing motion that had a sharp exhale leaving the black-haired man that he shivered at as he quickly began moving his hand on his own. Copying, adapting and pressing down against his husband's erection pulling a moan from him that had him kissing fervently with an increasing speed, pressing his lips harder to Shouta's.
He jumped at the hand that had been gripping his wrist finding his own crotch. Cupping, curving that hand to the shape of his own twitching erection before copying the movements of Hizashi's hand, using that same pressure he used on the black-haired man, and he moaned louder than he intended against Shouta's lips though the man didn't seem to mind one damn bit. The quiet sound of hands rubbing at fabric, the pleasure that rolled through him until his hips were thrusting against Shouta's hand.
A similar jiggling movement being used beneath him had his heart slamming against his chest. As if it were intent on spreading, fanning the flames that were beginning to lick beneath his skin and spread that excitement that fluttered in his stomach as his mind focused for the first time since he began smoking. Was he more aware of these sensations? Of the fabric of his husband's pants beneath his hand?
The hardness of his erection? The way he seemed aware of those tiny little twitches? The quiet muffled sounds leaving his husband's throat? How his nails drag across the couch cushion so loud? How the drag made his fingers move in little stuttered movements? He had no clue, but he felt good. Really good. He may not be drunk but damn if he didn't feel like he was just as tipsy as his husband and he hadn't had a drop to drink tonight.
Getting drunk off of the sensations maybe? The actions? He couldn't really tell, not because he was lost in his own lust, but because it was hard to tell when his mind was foggy and airy with the effects of the weed. It couldn't come up with those hypothetical questions anymore, didn't have room to wonder if he was making the right choice, because it was focused on something that was feeling good to him and clinging onto it fiercely.
Unwilling to let it go. He moved his hand faster, pressing down harder until Shouta was squirming beneath him moaning against his lips loudly which was rather surprising as he normally didn't get that loud until much later into it, but he wasn't going to complain. He moaned himself when his hips jumped forward eagerly against Shouta's own hand that was moving fast, trying to apply that same pressure and it had his toes curling tightly as he ground his hips forward against his husband's hand with another moan flying out of him.
It felt fucking good. So much better than he ever expected. Is this why people enjoyed sex while high? When they were already at their highest peaks and sex just made them fly higher? Enhanced every little bit about it? He'd have to look it up at some point just to see if that was possibly true. He hissed in a breath when Shouta's lips parted beneath his own, licking at his bottom lip rather than Hizashi initiating it, and he groaned when parted his own lips welcoming that tongue much happier than earlier.
He twisted, licking and rubbing his tongue against his husband's as he tasted the alcohol that lingered like an after taste on his husband's tongue pulling a moan out of him when the man began playing with his piercing happily. He always did, always loved to lick and flick at it, but tonight he was absolutely entranced by the actions of his husband's strange boldness. Though he had to correct that thought; anyone, no matter how shy or reserved, would be bold with enough alcohol in their system.
He jumped with a muffled sound leaving his throat when he felt the hand rubbing at him slide upwards, his brows coming together for a moment, only for a gasp to fly out of him. Fingers slid down past the waistline of his pants and boxers straight down to grip his erection which twitched in that grip as his next breath fueled a moan so loud he felt Shouta flinch. His hips jerked forward eagerly into his husband's hand, painfully curious to see just what he would be able to do in the loose-fitting pants he was wearing.
He pulled from the kiss with that familiar smack that had his husband whining in protest as he fluttered his lips over that stubble happily enjoying the scratch of it against his own cheeks, his lips, and taking in the hot blush in his cheeks that burned beneath his lips. His breaths were hitching excitedly against that hot cheek, his hips twitching before thrusting forwards when the hand squeezing gently began to stroke and he moaned muffling the sound against Shouta's cheek, the muscles in his thighs jumping at the arousal shooting through him.
He was grateful, so unbelievably grateful it was just them tonight. It had taken a lot of convincing for Hitoshi to take Eri to the dorms, to let her hang out with Midoriya and Bakugo but God if he wasn't happy he did it. Shouta not so much. He wouldn't be too happy when he found out just what he bribed the teen with. He shouted wordlessly pulling himself up when Shouta rubbed his thumb against the tip, making tight little circles that had him thrusting frantically forward against his hand.
The lazy, smug smirk he got from his husband was almost too much paired with that touch. Shouta had magic hands; as good as he was at a blowjob, as amazing as that was, it really did pale somewhat in the wake of his hand jobs. He was strangely amazing at giving them when he had the confidence to and tonight seemed to be that night where Hizashi was being blessed with one of those hand jobs.
He slid his hand up from his husband's crotch earning him that little growling noise from earlier that quickly cut off when he shoved Shouta's shirt upwards above his chest the best he could. He leaned down lapping his tongue across a nipple that pulled a gasp from the black-haired man. He felt the chest arching up eagerly as he swirled his tongue around his nipple, traced the edges of his areola with the tip of his tongue before moving back in to lick at that hardening nipple.
Absolutely loving the way it hardened against his tongue when he rubbed his piercing against it. He slid his hand down again to rub at Shouta again, the pace faster than before with the right pressure that had the man crying out as his hips jumped up frantically much like his were as he closed his lips around the area. He dug his teeth lightly into the areola, lapping his tongue across that hardened nipple again and again.
He then scraped his teeth against the sensitive skin of the areola making Shouta jerk with a loud whimper only for it to be cut off. It had him looking up under his lashes to watch teeth sinking into that full bottom lip as if to muffle another loud noise as he closed his lips around the hardened bud that he rubbed his piercing against provoking a muffle sound. He felt the hand in his hair twisting tightly, tugging at him making a moan fly out of him as he then sucked fiercely at the nipple.
Shivering as he watched Shouta's mouth drop open with another cry as his chest arched up eagerly, higher as he pressed his head to his chest. Like he was going to move. Not happening. He moaned again when that thumb rubbed against the tip of his erection, jerking himself as he inhaled sharply as he suckled at the nipple happily making his husband whimper in a high pitch that had him shuddering to hear leave the man's lips.
Was he perhaps more vocal when drunk? He didn't know, he never remembered sex with Shouta when he was drunk. He paused in his rubbing to squeeze, kneading at the bulge that twitched eagerly against his hand as Shouta moaned loudly pressing his head back against the cushion beneath it as his hand instinctively moved faster, stroking him quickly and pulling a whine out of him. He bit the nipple gently, digging his teeth in just enough it had his husband squirming against him.
Legs squeezing his waist tightly while the man whimpered loudly, teeth digging into his lip again. What a simple action could do to him. He loved it when Shouta bit his lip, when he pouted, anything that emphasized those full lips of his. He gave a rough suck to the nipple pulling a moan from Shouta as he squirmed bucking his hips up eagerly against his kneading hand and while he loved their current actions, loved it more than anything, he wanted something better.
He believed, full-heartedly, he could do it. Yet he needed to ask directly, needed again that express permission. He pulled back, biting and tugging the nipple as he moved before releasing it listening to the wild whimper it got him from his husband who was dragging his nails over his scalp sending shivers down his spine. "Shouta?"
"Z-Zashi?"
"Do you want to? Do you want to do this? We don't have too, baby, but I need to know if we do that it's okay. I know you're pretty fucked up, I am too, but I just need to know first."
Those eyes widened as if it was absolutely idiotic, surprising, that Hizashi was even asking such a question and he could have laughed at the comedic way those eyes burned a hole right through him as the fingers around his erection tightly making him groan softly when Shouta growled up at him. "I said yes earlier! I told you I wanted this! So, give it to me! I want it!"
"You want it?"
"Yes! I deserve it!"
Oh? His brows raised at Shouta's uncharacteristic demand, his snapping tone that sounded suspiciously like a child demanding something from a parent; irritated, annoyed and exasperated all in one sentence. "Are you going to do something with this or what?" He squeezed his crotch making him twitch, swallowing a little moan. "Or do you not have your fucking hearing aids in? I said I want it so give it to me now! I s-said I deserve it!"
He widened his eyes back at Shouta watching those dark brows come together tightly on his forehead making his nose scrunch up just a bit like before, his eyes flashing at him when he then tightened his own fingers around the bulge under his hand and tilted his head at his husband who whined quietly before scowling up at him. Oh! He wanted to play that game, huh? "You deserve it? You want it? Give it to you? My, my, who the fuck do you think you are?"
A whimper. Wild, cracking the back of his husband's throat despite the scowl he was giving him, the way he'd growled at him, those dark eyes burned at him when he squeezed the bulge of his erection tightly. Widening his eyes at the pouting, black-haired man, he felt wickedly delighted. Obligated to response to this playful little challenge. "This is my cock, I decide where it goes and what it does! You don't deserve anything! If anything, I shouldn't even be doing this because you chugged five of those drinks in one hour alone!"
"S-So what? You've been smoking all night!"
"And like you said, so what? The fact you're saying this shit is mind-blowing! You deserve it, my ass! You sound like a brat, Shouta! A nasty little brat who's just demanding to get something he doesn't really deserve, now don't you? Who do you think you are to feel entitled to my cock?"
"Gi-Give me it! I said too! You're my husband and by extension this is also mine!" He snapped though it sounded breathless as he tightened his fingers again around Hizashi making him swallow a groan wanting to claw out of him at the tight grip only to feel rather satisfied he managed to keep it down.
He couldn't help but shiver when those dark eyes flashed as that scowl wavered on his face him. A look like that would have anyone shaking in their boots but there was too much of that lustful heat to make it truly effective. And God, if that fake answer wasn't mesmerizing to look down at. Fingers gripped him tightly forcing him to swallow down another groan, the tingles from such an action had him fighting the urge to twitch his hips. To keep from pressing into that tight grip further.
"It's mine! I do deserve it! So, take it out and fuck me already! I want your cock in me, now! You better give it to me now or I'll-!"
"You'll what?" The scowl dropped away, the black-haired man no longer having that will to keep it up anymore, his lips parted with a shuddering breath at the whisper he aimed down at him with the right pitch, the right tone to make those dark eyes flash up at him with that heat before they positively burned up at him with eagerness. Excitement. "Are you so drunk you've forgotten yourself? Forgotten who you're talking to?"
He tightened his fingers gradually, tighter, tighter, until Shouta was squirming with a whimper flying out of him as those fingers tightened in his hair in response as he stared up at Hizashi. He then smirked down at his husband as he pushed himself up to his knees forcing the legs to release him despite their attempt to grip him and the hand to slid out of his pants sadly. "You're so drunk you've turned into an entitled little brat, Shouta! I know how to deal with brats, trust me I do, and you'll find out later just how I'll be with your attitude. For now, I'll give in, I'll let you have it."
"Zashi, I-!"
"Come on, don't be scared now! You want my cock so bad? Want me to fuck you good? Come get it."
He then reached down tugging his shirt up over his head watching Shouta squirm to do the same, jerking himself up reaching for his pants grabbing the waistline shoving them down his thighs faster than he'd thought possible of someone who was swaying the moment they sat up, yet his husband was doing it. He let those fingers grip then fumble with his boxers, his jaw clenching when he couldn't get it right away and Hizashi contented himself to merely watch his husband struggle for a few moments.
It was pretty adorable how clumsy, how awkwardly his usually composed and controlled husband was that his movements were always strangely fluid when he was sober but were reduced to shaking, fumbling motions now. The boxers seemed to be the true moment of irritation for Shouta the longer he struggled to hook his thumbs in the waistline but once he got it, they were yanked right down to which he made a soft hum that had dark eyes that had been gawking shamelessly at his erection flick up to his face.
"Go on. Take'em off."
He looked confused, utterly confused and Hizashi knew he should elaborate on his words, but he merely tilted his head once again while raising his brows, waiting for the black-haired man to move as his hands hovered uneasily moving back and forth between the clothing around his thighs and the pants that still sat loosely on his own hips. Back and forth, eyes on him with that excitement cresting before he twisted back into his original sitting position with those eyes on him watching every movement much like he had not long ago.
He smiled at his husband then who was now reaching to grab the waistline of his pants, clumsily hooking his thumbs into them along with his boxers and he shifted lifting his feet up to press the balls of them against the edge of the coffee table before them when Shouta began clumsily pushing his clothing down his hips hen his thighs, hands fumbling with the task. It felt like it took much longer than it really was to watch those pants get kicked off his ankles childishly.
Damn, the man was nearly flailing- no, correction he was flailing his legs wildly to get his pants and boxers off. Flailed so hard they flew off his legs in an arch off to the right, landing at quite a distance from the couch which had him chuckling under his breath then stifling it when Shouta was turning to him again and he smiled widely at his husband. The TV was still murmuring, distracting him for a moment.
His eyes flicked to the Twilight movie -was this New Moon? Or Eclipse? - and then looked back when hands grabbed at his pants and boxers. Yanking them down his legs rougher than need be. And then he had an idea. Of course, his words that he 'knew how to deal with brats' had prompted a confidence he absolutely had, he realized he'd have to buy the things he would need for something like that.
He was marveling at this thought when Shouta was yanking his ankles fiercely to get his pants and boxers off, annoyed little grunts and growls leaving the man when it wouldn't come off easily prompting him to lean forward brushing his husband's hands away to get both articles of clothing off. Once they dropped to the floor there was a moment of stillness; Shouta's hands still on his shins, looking at his ankles as if uncomprehending the fact that they were gone, and Hizashi as he waited to see what his husband just might do.
Dark eyes lifted up to him, a touch wide, and then he was watching Shouta sit up straight as he turned towards him with a flame, a fire burning in those eyes of his and he didn't think to resist the lean as he moved halfway to meet the lips that parted instinctively. He reached a hand up to cup the back of his husband's head when their lips met, the kiss sending a fresh wave of heat through his body to add to the sweltering flames that burned beneath his skin.
Then he heard Shouta sigh softly through his nose as if he was relieved. It was only a few seconds into the kiss, lips just barely beginning to move together that he felt fingers wrapping around his erection making him jump back from his husband, his eyes flying open to look down before up at Shouta who raised his brows at him with such a blasé look like it was the most natural thing in the world. And then he spoke. "What?"
"What? You're-!"
"You said to come get it! This is mine anyways! You always say that you were made for me, I was made for you, so by that l-logic then this is mine, isn't it?" Shouta breathed the words between them making goosebumps break out over his skin at the way those eyes met his boldly, confidently.
Not a hint of shyness that would have come any other time the man could possibly say something like that. He'd only stuttered once when normally he'd be stumbling to choke out a sentence like that when he was sober and yet here, he was not only saying it with one little slip up but while meeting his eyes with all the boldness he possessed. It was hot. Very hot. Fuck, if he didn't love it when his husband was this confident. This bold.
He shivered at the sight of it when Shouta spoke again in that breathless tone though he could hear a hint of firmness behind it. "If you were telling the truth, if you meant it, then this cock is mine, and I can do with it what I want! I can touch it, lick it, suck it, and fuck myself on it whenever I want! So don't be selfish! You have to share it with me!"
He made no sense yet was strangely making sense. It was weird. He stared at the man he was in awe of, like he had just swallowed a sword and proceeded to speak with it down his throat, and he didn't think twice about how Shouta would take that look being aimed at him. He could see the confidence boosting in the drunken man with his slack jawed reaction as he stared at his husband then down at his hand when it began stroking only for the warmth breath of his husband's to caress his cheek lightly when he leaned in again.
Lips just barely brushed against the skin that burned with his blush. He had two options laid out before him; he could go the route he naturally would go down where he would call Shouta a brat, demand he respect him, and take control of the situation. Or he could let Shouta do as he pleased. He could sit back, enjoy his high that was making him buzz from the top of his head down to every tip of a finger or toe there possibly was on his body.
He twitched when Shouta curved his hand in a twisting motion, pulling a moan from him to have that action finally used on him; Shouta had done it to himself, to the dildos, but he'd yet to perform the move him. He looked down at the hand moving up and down slowly, the thumb coming up to rub at the head in the tight little circles from earlier before swapping to large lazier ones that had him moaning.
What did he do? What did he say? Words were hard, so hard right now yet Shouta had not a problem with them. Strange how it felt again like their roles were reversed; just like the night with the dry humping. Shouta was confident, taking an assertive role to assure him it was fine only this time he was being assertive in how he touched Hizashi and that sent jolts of electricity down his spine that fanned out into arousal.
"D-Don't have nothin' to say, Zashi?" Shouta's breathless voice rang out again, a whisper that had him shivering at the sound of when his hips twitched forward as the hand slid down and the warm breath caressing his hot cheek was making it hard to think; to process what was really happening at the moment. And here he was, concerned he would be taking advantage of Shouta's inebriated state. How absolutely wrong he was.
Here he thought he was the menace going along wit hhis husband despite his inebriated state. The black-haired man was a fucking threat against everything he held dear and was a damn demon straight from hell. He was a wicked, vicious little thing grabbing and snarling at him like he was taking advantage of him. It was amazing. Aweing. It took everything to keep his mouth from dropping open as Shouta's fingers squeezed him sending a shiver down his back.
"You like that? Like that I want this all the time? That this cock is mine to do with as I please? You don't have the will power to keep it from me, and you know you won't, Zashi, baby! I know how much you love fucking me, how much you love being inside me, and yet you willingly kept yourself from doing that when I came home last week. Why? Why would you do that? You wouldn't even suck my dick when I asked you, remember? Wouldn't do nothing'!"
"Because you can be such a bitch sometimes, Sho!" He groaned out words he'd meant to whisper back, letting himself lean backwards against the couch again. Wicked man, Shouta Aizawa was. And fucking hell if he didn't love it.
Letting his legs instinctively spread, his hips jumped up when that hand came down in a twisting motion that had his toes curling tightly when he made out blearily the sight of brows raising and the man smirking at the fuck was that look for? It was wicked, devilish and it made him feel like his husband was going to eat him alive. Like that comment pleased him for some reason.
It made the heat in those dark eyes positively flame at him, the glaze of the alcohol was still there but fuck those eyes were intense. Gone was that unfocused look from earlier; it was like Shouta saw him and saw straight down to his very core. Right to the fundamentals that made him who he was. And he looked as if he liked it. He then swallowed, licked his lips and forced himself to speak.
"It's true! You're such a mood bitch sometimes! Ever si-since Nezu told you to take time off you've been the weird one! Wouldn't look at me or talk to me and texted me fucking weird the whole time you were gone and e-even when you came home! You think I didn't want to fuck you, Sho? That I don't want to touch you and suck your cock and eat you out 'til you're crying like a fucking baby? Because I will, I absolutely will! You think you have the upper hand here? You're wrong, you're so, so wrong, baby, and I'll teach you a fucking lesson about it!"
"Big words from someone humping into my hand so shamelessly like that."
Those words prompted him to growl at his husband, the sound ripping out of him through clenched teeth, and he loved the shudder that moved over Shouta, the low sound leaving his throat and yet his hips moved upwards each time that hand came down making him bite back a moan. Who knew Shouta could talk like this? Sure, he'd taken every bit of degradation Hizashi threw at him, and he had said what he thought was right when it came to that but the fact it was being thrown at him even a bit? Even better.
His mind couldn't focus as it spun around and around, faster and faster until he wasn't sure where he would land, and he was moaning out pressing his head against the back of the couch bouncing his hips up eagerly into his husband's hand with his breath racing gradually. "Y-You always talk big game, Zashi, but do you ever follow it? You've been threatenin' to teach me a lesson, but I doubt you will. You love it so much when I'm a brat, don't you? You like it when I'm mean, when I'm stubborn and you like it when I don't give in easily! You get so hard, just like this, so I think you're all talk!"
He felt his eye twitch. His eyebrow moved in a similar twitching movement a few seconds later as he stared at his husband, his hips jerking up making those dark eyes fly down to his movement and that was all he needed to move. He grabbed the wrist of that stroking hand using the momentum the best he could to spin Shouta around in a mess of flailing legs, arms shooting out to catch himself in case he fell and a shriek from the man that ended the moment Hizashi was able to angle both his husband and him into the position he wanted afterwards.
It was awkward moving, legs sliding off the couch, a grunt flying out of Hizashi as he released that wrist to grab his husbands' waist yanking his lower half up onto the couch before it could slide off and his own leg slid out off the edge making him jerk as his head spun with the fast movement. When it was over the black-haired man was pinned to the couch, his chest to the cushion with his arms bent near his chest as he twisted his head to press his cheek to that cushion to glare up at him when Hizashi held his waist tightly before sliding down to grip his hips, using his nails to dig in lightly.
"I'm all talk? All talk? Shouta Aizawa, you've known me fifteen years and you've been married to me for five of those! You think I'm all fucking talk, huh? I won't forget any of this, even if I'm high as fuck and not thinkin' clearly, I won't forget it, Sho! I'm going to absolutely fucking pound you on this couch and I'll make sure you limp too, so you get forced home again! I'll fucking teach you a lesson too! A proper one when we're both sober because I think your drunken ass mouth is running away with you, Shouta, and you're getting way too confident thinking you can say what you want to me!"
He then smirked leaning forward grinding his hips forward against the back of Shouta's thigh getting a groan from the man beneath him. A shudder that rolled down the black-haired man's back, squirming slightly as he continued grinding his hips forward delightedly. There was nothing, nothing he loved more than tearing down a bratty attitude in Shouta. Nothing better than tearing away that facade, that little act of his, and making him a whimpering, writhing mess.
Maybe that said something about who he was as a person but Goddammit he loved it. Loved watching the confidence burning up at him only for that pleading look to take it's place as his husband's voice trembled and raised until he was clutching at him. Nails sinking into his skin, clawing and gripping onto him with those huffing noises flying out of him. Wailing his apologies that were as fake as his attitude previously. He smirked to himself loving the way those hips were angling backwards, asking silently but he had better ideas. Much better ones.
"After all, I'm your Daddy and you don't talk to me like that, you understand that? Such a bad kitten, a bad boy to be mean to Daddy like that! You think you're all that just because you took a nine-inch dildo and all that because you're drunk as fuck? Far from it, kitten, far from it and you'll learn that you hear me?"
"Yes! Yes, I hear you!" Shouta gasped out squirming arching his hips back as he stared up at him, the heated glaze to those eyes made him wonder just how much his husband was going to remember in the morning and just what bits would be clinging to him in that moment?
Would he remember everything? Was he sobering up? Or was he still far from sobriety but not as drunk as he was at the start? He did phrase his words weirdly a few moments ago when he asked if he had anything to say, so maybe that was a sign? He had no clue, but it was only as he was kneading at his hips that he realized that they didn't have anything they needed for sex. It was all in the bedroom.
He blinked when Shouta's hips shifted side to side, a swaying motion that brought him back to himself as the fast breaths racing out of his husband were nearly buried under the movie still playing on the TV. "Zashi, please! Please, give it to me? Give it? I need it, please! Fuck me so goood, like you always do! Fuck me so hard!"
"I will! I just- I need to go get the stuff-"
He was surprised when Shouta's hand was moving, digging in between the cushion and the arm of the couch making him blink when he produced the familiar tube of lube that had him squinting at the man who had the audacity to release a breathless giggle. He stared down at that proud, red face and then feeling his eye give another twitch at that sight paired with that little giggle his husband released. This little motherfucker!
"I g-got it earlier when I took a piss! So, come on! Come on, Zashi, don't hold back now! Just 'cause I'm kinda drunk doesn't mean nothin'!"
There it was, that weird phrasing again betraying his coherency when that singular glazed, foggy dark eye seemed to smolder right up at him. He hoped the other was closed though knowing Shouta he'd have that thing open wide open despite his cheek being against the couch's cushion. Another sway of those hips, lazily like he was trying to coerce him, gained his attention by the movement alone. And he did.
"You used to fuck me all the time when you were drunk! All the time, you'd s-stumble to my room at the dorms I stayed in at the college and yo-you'd fuck me up against the door or over my desk or in the bed! O-One time you fucked me up against the window!"
What? He did that? He accepted the lube from Shouta with a blink, his nails popping open the top to it as he squeezed a dollop onto his fingers staring at his husband who nodded as if to confirm it was true. Shouta didn't lie, even drunk he didn't, so it had to be true. He felt his face burn with a mortified blush that he had done that, that he was capable of just showing up at Shouta's dorm and do that to him but the man beneath him just squirmed as if he was...was excited?
He looked at Shouta's face wondering if it was possible his face was a little redder, his breaths a little faster, or his eyes perhaps a bit dreamier than before. Was he- Did Shouta like that? He hated it when Hizashi would drink, hated it with a fierce passion during that period but he was excited about the sex part? He felt himself spreading the lube over his fingers in what felt like a dream as he gawked down at his husband who released another breathless giggle.
"You- Are you getting-? Did you ever get off on that? Is that why you're mentioning it?"
"Mmmm, maybe! It was gooood, Zashi, always good even then! Hated that you drank like that, but you always fucked me so hard, so damn good it was like you were just as d-desperate as I was! It made m-me realize I like it rough, like when you pound me that hard even if it's uncomfortable after and 'm limpin'." Jesus. What did he do with that information? What did he do at all?
He stared down at his husband who giggled for what felt like the millionth time and he had to admit that if he had never heard the great Eraserhead, Shouta Aizawa, giggle before then the sound would absolutely be off-putting. Hell, it would be off-putting to anyone who all believed that his husband was incapable of ever creating such a noise. Only he and Nemuri knew how giggling his husband could get when he was drunk.
Then he blinked when those hips swayed again, the devious glint to that glazed eye had heat burning low, low down to his very bones in response. It almost bordered on pain with every minute he wasn't inside his husband. "C'mon! I keep telling you to gimme it! You're gonna make me mad, Zashi, and I won't talk to you tomorrow if you don't fuck me right now and stop gawkin' at me! Hurry up! Gimme it! You can't keep what's mine anyways, jus' a shame it's attached to you doesn't mean you can keep it from me!"
He raised his brows at that when he dropped his hand from his slick fingers to wriggle them forward, finding his husband's entrance easily enough and raising his brows higher when he felt the familiar twitch it gave as the breathing below him hitched making his own shudder out. He rubbed his fingers against his twitching entrance before pushing a finger in making a moan fly out of Shouta, the man seeming to sink into the couch.
Again, his hips arched back eagerly and he could only marvel at how absolutely shameless his husband was acting with the influence of alcohol. Like he could say or do whatever he wanted without actually thinking. Like how he normally acted in bed wasn't truly it. He thrusted his finger lazily, carefully in his movements only for it make another moan fly out of Shouta and the eager sound had him swallowing as he tried to focus on moving his finger.
Not on the sounds he made, not on the movie that was strangely trying to grab his attention, or the feel of the couch's material beneath his skin. He stares blankly at his husband's back, nudging that second finger against his husband idly making a wild whimper leave the man and he blinked though it didn't help with the way he was just staring. Not looking but staring. He watched himself wriggle that second finger in carefully, his mouth hanging open, when another little sound left his husband.
And yet this one was muffled when he turned his face into the cushions while he lazily thrusted both those fingers together marveling at the heat. The squeeze around his fingers alone. He groaned as he began working himself up to a proper thrust, something that had Shouta moaning happily into the cushion which had him shaking off his blank stare the best he could as he bent down licking up the length of his lower back, rubbing his piercing against the skin earning him a much louder cry against the cushions.
He smirked as he spread his fingers earning a thrust of those hips, backwards against his hand as he pushed outwards with his fingers with a soft hum when he realized that Shouta wasn't quite as tight as he would have been. Was he masturbating in his off time? That sent a shiver down his spine when he pulled back from his husband, the salty taste of sweat lingering on his tongue from the sheen on his husband's skin though he chuckled quietly at him.
"My, my, Shouta!~ Someone's not nearly as tight as they would have been! Have you been fucking yourself with that dildo without me? Greedy boy, I should have figured you'd be getting your rocks off when I wasn't around!"
He loved the shiver that ran down his husband's back which caused it to attempt an arch despite his chest already pressing the couch and he spread his fingers again knowing it wouldn't take much. Not much at all to have him ready. He thrusted his fingers a few time making the black haired-man groan when he searched, flexing inwards until- The cry from Shouta sent shivers down his own spine as he ground his fingers onto the spot in those tight little circles the man had claimed to use on himself that night and the squirms he got from him made it worth it.
Little movements like he wanted to run away from the sensation or jerk back onto his fingers left him breathless. "You've been such a brat tonight, I don't know if I should fuck you, Shouta! Tell me one good reason as to why I should?"
"Be-Because you love me!" He smirked at Shouta, the man squirming with a whimper as he pressed his fingers firmer to the spot and rubbing fast as he could making his husband whine loudly his hips jerking backwards as his hands curled into fists above his head. "Be-Because you want to! Because I need it! I want- Need it! T-Toys don't feel like the real thing! And I need it, Zashi! Need you to- Mmmmm! Ah! Ah, need you! Need you bad, Zashi! So please? Please, fuck me? I'll be good after, so good! So good, I'll be a good boy, just fuck me! Fuck me and I'll be good!"
That was a lie and a half. His husband would be grumpy, bratty tomorrow with his hangover which was absolutely natural but him being good? That was rare. The man was head strong, stubborn, unwilling to give up easily and so damn spiteful that the idea that he would be good? Not likely. Especially not with his bratty behavior acting up more and more. Even before they dived into the BDSM themes, he would happily spank Shouta when he was bratty and-
His could practically feel his eyes, his face, light up at the thought as he pulled his fingers out of Shouta making the man whine loudly. That was it! That's exactly what he'd do! Later, though! He'd remember later, he was sure of it! He was merely high, even if his brain was functioning slower than normal, but he was confident if he remembered tonight as vividly as he knew he would then he wouldn't forget that idea. He then looked around, to the table, then leaned forward to the little space between the cushion and arm yet he didn't see anything. Didn't see what he was looking for.
"Sho, where are the condoms? Did you grab those?"
Nothing. He didn't get a word from his husband as he looked down just in time to see that dark eye flickering away from him. An embarrassed look finally breaking through his husband's drunken state. He tugged his brows together when Shouta looked back up at him after a moment, his parted lips trembling lightly when he met that gaze evenly, yet the man refused to say a word and he felt it click just as suddenly as that beautiful, wonderful of idea of his had light him up. What a dirty boy.
"Ohhh, okay! You want me to cum in you, is that it? Tired of waiting for me to choose a time to do it? You want me to do it now? Cum in you so much you're positively dripping with it? Is that what you want, baby? For me to cum in you all night long?"
He got a whimper, a quiet sound for once, and he knew he hit the nail on the head directly. He wondered, for just a second, if that was typical when they would drink in the past; if they didn't use a condom as often as he thought, and he placed his hands on the black-haired man's hips lowering them then reaching for the lube squirting a dollop onto his palm and reaching down rubbing it over his erection.
His breath, Shouta's breath, raced with those quiet little hitches at the slick sound of lube being spread over himself and after he was satisfied that it was sufficiently covered, he reached out grabbing his husband's hips tugging them towards him making the man slide backwards. He shifted forward on his knees, pressing himself between his husband's cheeks and rubbing himself against the twitching hole making Shouta whimper louder this time as his hips twitched eagerly.
He smirked when he looked down at his husband, rubbing himself against Shouta until the man was squirming impatiently, his right foot lifting then slamming down; an unspoken demand. An order. He didn't think to say anything, to reprimand his husband, as these were all little things he would use with that punishment he would dole out but until then he was going to ride this high, ride the experience the best he could and he delighted in the twitch beneath his erection as he pulled back pressing the head against him.
He heard a breath rush past his husband's lips before they pinched together, holding it hopefully and he let his smirk widen as he then pushed forward sinking into his husband so easily, he couldn't help a hushed gasp to himself with how he slid forward easily. Shouta cried out as that breath flew out of him, leaning forward squeezing his hips fiercely making the black-haired man moan as he held still.
Being inside Shouta was something that never failed to be aweing; even when they had sex for the very first time, in their early twenties, when they had just gotten their shitty apartment, he still found it surprising Shouta wanted him like that. Of course, he knew everyone had wants and desires, Shouta was no exception, but at the time it was like popping a bottle with pressure building; they had done it once then after that it was wild, getting to him anyway he could and however he could.
That never changed. Even now with the familiar heat, the muscles squeezing and fluttering around his erection had him groaning just as enthusiastically as he had that very first time and his hips instinctively pulled back before sliding forward listening to the moan he drew out of his husband. He never thought of sex while high; never thought of sex with Shouta while he was drunk, but tonight seemed to be a night of firsts and he was absolutely adoring everything about it.
He felt like he was melting from that heat around him, the feverish skin beneath his own as he settled into an easy speed. Nothing fast yet nothing slow. It was a normal, even back and forth that had him moaning in unison with Shouta , his nails dragging lightly at the shape of his husband's hips making an ecstatic moan leave the man and he had to admit that while he knew he should be using a condom he had to admit it always felt a bit better without one.
Not because the condom restricted his sensations; no, he liked it because it felt thrilling. Like he was doing something he shouldn't be, and it was a feeling that left him shaking, clinging to his husband as he was. He then felt the hips in his hands beginning to push backwards, meeting his forward thrusts so perfectly it had his lashes fluttering as he shut his eyes; shutting them as if it would help him focus harder on the moment.
He could feel the cushions shifting beneath him from his movements, from the dig of Shouta's knees, and he was delighting in every little sensation that seemed to make his head spin faster than a top; spinning so fast it felt like his head would fly right off his shoulders. He was surprised into opening his eyes when Shouta jerked himself backwards in a hard thrust that had him wobbling slightly from the impact, surprised again when his husband then pushed himself up onto his hands then pushed himself up onto his knees as well.
Then he reached an arm back to wrap around his shoulders. Ah, so that's what he wanted? He groaned burying his face in the man's neck when the hand in his hair coaxed him to do so, another harsh movement of the hips against him had him pulling his own back and thrusting forward making his husband bounce lightly with the hit, a moan flying out of him. It was very easy to abandon that even, easy pace he'd begun using and slamming his hips hitting against Shouta creating a slap that had a similar shiver running down his spine.
He then shifted to lean over Shouta, yanking and slamming forward was a rhythm that his husband copied easily. It was a give and take both were familiar with and Hizashi was happy to say he loved it. He focused on speeding up, eager to dive forward each time he pulled back until Shouta was squirming and moving in time with him as the arm around him tightened and nails raked over his scalp making him moan, the pitch high enough to make even his own hearing aids shriek at the feedback that had him wincing with his husband.
He had to watch that. He then felt fingers brushing the back of his hand softly before wiggling to get beneath his, did those fingers grab at his hand bringing both of them together around his erection. He moaned as he wrapped his fingers with Shouta's around the man's erection, his thumb swirling around the wet head making a loud moan fly out of his husband as his head was thrown back against his shoulder.
He rubbed in those tight circles his husband adored, tracing the slit with the tip of his thumb making his husband wail out as he slammed forward which had his husband jumping backwards to meet his hits then thrusting forward when he began sliding his hand up and down. He didn't think of himself as some horny bastard, always wanting sex with his husband but goddammit it was getting harder and harder to deny.
He wanted Shouta all the time, more and more did he craved it, just like he craved his time and his attention when they were out of the house; just like he craved it back when they were teens and how he craved it when they were twisted in bed together. He wanted to devour every little bit of this man and leave nothing for the world to admire. He wanted to keep Shouta all to himself, just like he had said earlier, and he wanted to keep them both locked away where not another person could make them pull away from each other.
As much as he loved their children, as much as he adored being a father, he missed those days of their shitty apartment. He missed being able to throw his clothes off and jump into bed with his husband, twisting together as he relished in the skin beneath his own and walking around the apartment with not a stitch on either of them allowing him to ogle his husband when he wanted. The moan from Shouta had him opening eyes he hadn't realized he'd shut.
His hips working to pound himself harder, faster, into his husband who was positively wailing out his moans, whimpering wildly, and trying to coax his hand to move faster than it was. He had to quickly slide his knee closer to Shouta's, suddenly aware of just how close it was to the edge and how dangerously close he was to dragging both of them off the couch. A position like this wasn't the easiest thing on a couch when there was limited space.
Happily did he move his hand faster, squeezing with just enough tightness and pressure that it had his husband jolting in his arms with a cry that was far louder than he ever expected, and he moaned loudly against his husband's neck as he began kissing softly at the skin. He trailed down to his shoulder, panting against that feverish skin as he clung to his husband just as fiercely as that arm clung to him and he happily squeezed Shouta's hip with his left hand making the man moan just as loud as he had.
How long could he draw this out? How long could he last? The high was enhancing every little bit about this, was making his body shake and filling him with a haze that threatened to have him drooling against his husband's shoulder if he wasn't careful. He could hear Shouta gasping as frequently as he moaned, the sound breaking up his wild panting and he slid his hand up to rub his thumb against the leaking head again smearing the pre-come welling there against the skin making his husband whimper loudly.
He slid his left hand up from his hip to his chest, flicking his thumb across a hardened nipple before pinching tightly making a moan fly out of his husband, a grunt leaving him when Shouta clenched down tight around him. Squeezing him like he was trying to milk him dry. He'd welcome that gladly. He'd let himself be wrung dry if that's really what his husband wanted, and he'd do it being grateful every second of it.
Though he truly did wish he had more hands; more hands to touch, to squeeze, to scratch at his husband's trembling body that was growing tighter and tighter with every passing second. Was he getting close already? Was his drunken state allowing him to focus on it? Or was it drifting away every so often like his own was? He looked over when his phone vibrated, Hitoshi's face lighting up the screen and he could have screamed at the timing.
he felt Shouta's head roll lazily towards the sound only to groan with disappointment as he squirmed against him. Did he answer? Or did he get them to an orgasm first? There was a lot of things Shouta could tolerate but answering the phone to their son during sex? Not happening. An unforgiveable offense, aimed from both him and his husband. Answering the phone with Yagi had been a playful, tongue and cheek thing that he'd wanted to try for a while but that was Yagi, a man they both liked poking fun at.
This was Hitoshi. There were lines and that was one a person did not cross. Didn't go anywhere near. Wasn't a line he or anyone should ever even consider for a second. He twisted the nipple between his fingers, stroking his husband's erection faster in time with his thrusts that were causing those sharp, crisp slaps that he loved, and he knew Shouta loved if that one drunken slip up a while ago had anything to say about it.
He lifted his head enough to nip at his husband's ear lightly, licking up the curve of it making the man whine as he then came down biting his earlobe fiercely drawing a moan out of him. It took a squeeze, a slamming of those hips meeting his own, that he felt it. The tickling's of an orgasm building slowly, subtly in him. Coming faster. Faster. Building higher. The tightness around his erection wasn't helping him, in fact it had his lashes fluttering in a fast blink when he released that earlobe in favor of speaking.
"Shoutaaa, do one good thing t-tonight and cum for me! I need you to cum, baby boy, so, do it? Do it for me? Be a good boy? I know you're right there, baby, I feel it, so let go! Cum for me and cum hard like I know you want too! Then you can relax with another drink if you want and I'll suck your cock later, eat you out so good that you'll want me to fuck you again and again tonight! Don't be a brat, don't be stubborn, just cum!"
"Zashi! Zashi, mmmmnnn! Feels good! Too good! I want- Nnngh! Cum in me! In me, in me! I wan' feel it!" He groaned feeling his husband shudder at the sound so close to his ear, that panting cresting upwards until he swore his husband was bordering on hyperventilation, yet he felt the backwards hits that were coming harder.
As if the man was just as eager as himself to reach an orgasm. He pounded into Shouta, angling his hips in just the right way that he knew his next hit would be- Shouta wailed squeezing his hair around his fist, nails dragging viciously against his scalp puling a shout from him that he had to pull away from Shouta's ear for, slamming forward harder, faster, his head spinning with his fast breaths as his husband clung onto his hair fiercely sending pain across his scalp. He loved it. He absolutely fucking loved that pain.
"Ahh! Ah, haah, Zashi! More! More! Li-Little more! Harder, harder! Faster! I need- So close! I'm- Nnngh! So close! I'm righ- Ahhhnn, cumming! Cumming, Zashi!"
He knew just what to do, that final push to really tip him over. He leaned down sinking his teeth into the black-haired man's shoulder making him jerk in his arms with another wail, squirming frantically making Hizashi's leg fall off with his own putting them at an awkward half standing half kneeling position on the couch, but Shouta didn't seem to care. He could feel the throbs, the rough twitches as those hips bucked into his hand eagerly with that wail choking off into loud moaning slurs of his name.
Yet he could hardly focus on where the come landed as the tight squeeze that tightened rhythmically in time with those throbs had his eyes rolling up. He growled into Shouta's shoulder, digging his teeth in deeply as he slammed his hips forwards once, twice, and then he was moaning just as eagerly as his husband had been. He ground his hips against his husband, his moans choking off into soft huffs of air leaving him.
Twitching and squirming through his orgasm that pulsed through him with each throb, each twitch, and the soft whimper that melted into an enthusiastic moan from Shouta had him whimpering himself. The last time they hadn't used a condom, the last time he'd been come inside, had been with the pet play. It was euphoric, it was everything he loved about it, but too soon he'd be pulling out and they'd be cleaning everything up which was right of them to do but he just wanted to slump over with Shouta's sweaty skin against his own.
He breathed out when that ebbing, throbbing orgasm came to an end leaving him slumping forward against Shouta who flew forward hitting the cushions with a grunt. He buried his face in those black locks, kissing his upper back softly, peppering kisses along the backs of his shoulders and his shoulder blades along with the space between them listening to the soft sigh leaving his husband.
And he couldn't help but echo that little sound as he pressed his cheek to the back of Shouta's head, nuzzling the locks of hair softly, feeling the fingers lightly rubbing against his own head lazily as if it were an afterthought but he didn't mind it one bit. Then Shouta spoke up. "Are you re-really gonna teach m-me a lesson?"
"Absolutely."
"G-Good. I deserve it."
"Ye-Yeah, you do, you fucking brat. Just y-you wait. I'll give you a le-lesson you won't be forgetting a-any time soon."