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“You two will be going on an undercover mission together in order to bring the villain, Ayame Minamoto, to us.”
Denki physically has to keep himself in his seat, mind racing as it recalls all the details for the mission. Being a pro hero means he has to learn to control his emotions, too, unfortunately, and that’s all he’s been doing in rural fucking Japan for the past two weeks.
“Nighthide will be working with Ayame hands on in order to snuff her bases out,”
But Denki just couldn’t take it anymore. Why is Hitoshi, his Hitoshi, gay Hitoshi, dancing with a woman? And why does his expression appear so.. Calm?
Internally, Denki knows he’s not— He’s disgusted, he has to be, because he’s not only dancing with a woman romantically, having her getting handsy with him, her hand snaking up his suit as he holds her by the waist, he also knows Denki is watching and seething, because he keeps glancing back at him. Denki’s leg might as well be vibrating with the speed in which it bounces as he tries to focus on his own mission, trying to force the actual nausea in his stomach to settle.
Dancing with a fucking murderer and drug trafficker, god. Denki wanted to rip his hair out.
Hitoshi had literally flipped his entire personality upside down just to get close to some connections, which took weeks. Until finally, he met her. He became funny (and not in the deadpanny sort of way that Denki loves), flirty (had Hitoshi ever been that way with him? He doubts it.), he even forces himself to smile at everything she says (something Denki doesn’t often see), and to him, it just looks like he’s become more and more tolerant of her somehow.
The villain seems absolutely entranced by him, constantly gazing into his eyes, focused on his white pupils, she’s smiling at him, her hand on the collar of his suit. Denki grits his teeth, scoffs. “Stupid fucking mission. Should’ve just stayed home and played nintendo,” He murmurs under his breath, rolling his eyes and prompting his head in his palm, elbow rudely placed on the circular table as he leans further back into his booth, forcing himself to look away.
“Meanwhile, Chargebolt, you will gather intel on any possible accomplices.”
Denki has not done anything at all yet, despite having a major part to play in this mission as well. The specialists surmised that she probably couldn’t be doing it all by herself, trafficking Trigger around Japan while also getting away with petty crimes and murder. She doesn’t even have a villain name, she doesn’t seem to care for the ‘villain’ culture, either. She just goes by her real name. She’s been busted for laundering money after one of her lackeys went to the police out of fear for his life, subsequently busting her trafficking and other crimes, though she hasn’t been caught by police. At least not yet, otherwise, they wouldn’t be here.
Seems more like a gang leader or something to Denki, but whatever. He hasn’t met anyone, since the only thing he’s done all night is look at the chick like she’ll disappear if he glares hard enough.
She doesn’t, though, instead, she dances, movements graceful, her long red hair swaying slightly with each movement.
This party is full of elites and crime bosses, probably. Denki estimates that they could bust every one of these rich bastards for something and they would all be found guilty for something.
He frowns, nobody talks to him, nobody talks to Ayame, either. Nobody even looks at her funny. Hitoshi leaves after a little while, excusing himself politely to the bathroom, and she kisses his cheek. His expression falters for a moment, but he forces a polite smile, bowing his head.
Denki doesn’t realize that his fingers are digging into his palms until he sees the crescent marks in them. They’re almost bleeding. He scoffs.
Ayame sits down next to him, somehow, she’d obtained a glass of champagne, and Denki realizes it’s his own. She sips it like it belongs to her. He immediately hides any animosity he has for her and swallows, straightening his posture.
“Hello.” He says, voice leveled. He was only just getting into the whole undercover mission scene, and acting was most certainly not his forte, but he was decent enough (and his quirk important enough) at it that apparently the HPSC disregarded his lack of talent despite this being the least ideal position for him.
“Hi. How’s the party?” She asks casually, setting the glass down. He eyes it, and she pushes it towards him. He shakes his hands, refusing.
“Ahah.. I’m not a party person.” The blond laughs awkwardly. This is a huge lie. Usually, it’s him on the dance floor, and Hitoshi at the table. Hitoshi is not a party person. Denki is.
She perks up, pouting.
“Oh? How so?” She asks sadly.
“I hate loud music,” He laughs. It’s easy to steal all of his husbands reasons for hating parties. “I dunno.” He shrugs.
“Ahh, I see. You didn’t strike me as someone who hates parties, though.” She hums thoughtfully.
They continue conversing like idiots, she remains polite, and Denki isn’t sure if she is aware of him glaring at her earlier or not.
Eventually, he gets nothing out of her except for a phone number. For business purposes. She’d said with a wink after he’d used a codeword he’d found out about a few days ago.
Now, they are back at the hotel room. Hitoshi is taking off his suit and tie, and Denki is sitting in bed, the only thing removed being his expensive loafers provided to him by the commission.
He is angry. He is pouting. Hitoshi isn’t oblivious to it, either.
“Jeez,” He sighs deeply, exhausted as he lazily tosses his tie to the side. “That was exhausting.” He murmurs, his voice deep. Denki just sits silently. His eyes are glued to him possessively, greedily taking in any sliver of skin his eyes could get.
Denki watches as his husband discards his suit jacket, remembers how Ayame’s hand gripped it gently as they danced. He watches him unbutton his shirt with precision, pulling it over his head when it was unbuttoned enough.
“..You okay?” Hitoshi asks, a bit awkward. He didn’t really know how to approach this situation, since usually, he was the more jealous one out of the two. Denki was usually carefree so long as there wasn’t someone literally barking up Hitoshi.
Denki stayed quiet, deep in thought. Unhelpful as ever, instead of carding through the mission details and briefing, it only flashes to the scene of Ayame kissing Hitoshi’s cheek.
Suddenly, there’s a warm, large hand on his cheek. His eyes focus again, and he sees Hitoshi, now sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Hey.” He said almost carefully.
Denki’s brows are furrowed and he just frowns, eyes crinkling slightly, turning glassy. What if.. Hitoshi has to sleep with her? What would he do then? His lips quiver.
“Hey..” Hitoshi murmurs, swiping his thumb over the corner of his eye, kicking his shoes off and sitting on the bed fully, facing Denki now.
He hugs him, and Denki reciprocates.
“I hate this.” He whispers into his shoulder, voice cracking. “I can’t watch this just.. Happen.” He said shakily.
“I know. I’m sorry, baby. I hate it too.” He nods, burying his hand into Denki’s blond hair, pulling out the hairtie holding it into a ponytail. His hair was longer now, at least compared to when they first met at U.A.
Denki grips at his back, and Hitoshi pulls away to bring him into a kiss. Denki kisses back easily, his hands closed shut on his back. He sniffles a bit, pulling away to look at the other. Hitoshi fucking melts. He’d hate to admit it, but having Denki cry over something like this was a little bit of an ego boost to him. He pulls him into another kiss, and this time, Denki is the one that melts. He sighs quietly against his lips, pulling him closer. They do this a few more times, kissing, pulling away, then kissing again when they’ve barely had any time to get any air again.
It leaves the both of them breathless, and Hitoshi has to lick his lips a few times because Denki kisses him back sloppily. Because of him, theres a trail of spit connecting their lips every other time they part, and Hitoshi doesn’t really want to admit to himself that he thinks it’s hot, so instead, he wipes his lips with his arm.
“God, you’re, like, drooling into my mouth,” He murmurs, a breathy laugh leaving his lips as Denki hungrily pulls him in for another kiss.
Though not before rolling his eyes at him and giggling out,“You like it.”
Hitoshi keeps his head in place this time, slotting their lips together just right, and it makes Denki pause in place and just sigh. His eyes closed contently, and Hitoshi grabbed his wrists, pushing them both down to the bed before going to intertwine their fingers together. The blond yelps slightly, watching Hitoshi through lidded eyes as he straddles him. He just looks him in the eyes, and this time, Denki gets to focus on his white pupils. He watches them dilate. It fills his heart with some sort of joy that he can’t explain.
“Fucking blown out pupils.” Hitoshi grunts to himself, and Denki just giggles again. “You think I’d ever like some drug trafficker more than you? My own husband?” He asks, voice deep and gruff. “Give me a damn break, Denks.”
Denki pauses.
“Hm?” Hitoshi squeezes his hands. “Crying over me like I could ever leave you, jesus,” He scoffed to himself. “Like you’d ever even let me, you leech,”
Denki would laugh if Hitoshi didn’t rut himself against Denki. Instead, he moaned.
Hitoshi smiles at him, it comes easy, even if it’s not something he does a lot. It looks so real and full of adoration, “You don’t know how pretty you are when you cry, huh?” He asks, rutting again, and Denki whines a bit, face flushed. He becomes hot, his suit feels suffocating, and he is officially hard. “God, when you look at me like that,” He laughs to himself, still smiling. Denki vaguely recognizes something more sadistic in it now, “It’s like you’re just begging to be railed,” He says. “Hm?”
Denki is awfully silent, and he just looks awestruck. Hitoshi leans down to kiss him again, and he whines into it, squeezing his hands.
“Baby, I asked a question.” He says, pecking him on the lips, before going back to loom over him.
“R..Right,” Denki murmurs, though he doesn’t really know what he’s answering to anymore.
Hitoshi chuckles, “You’re so far gone.” He leans over again, this time to inspect his face. He lets go of Denki’s head in favor of twisting it this way and that way, pulling his eyelids down a bit to look at his eyes. “Your pupils are huge.” He says, sounding almost concerned. “Poor thing, your face is so flushed now,” He murmurs, kissing him again. Denki’s voice gets caught up in his throat. “All that from a little kissing, baby?” He asked, and Denki nods at him slowly. Hitoshi tilts his head at him. “Yeah?”
“Mm-“ Denki’s voice cracks, “Mmhm,”
“It’s okay. I’ve got it,” He gets off his knees, instead basically laying down on him. Denki’s pupils somehow dilate even more, and there is just a crescent outline of yellow around a black void. Hitoshi gets off him, laying next to him, he starts undoing his tie for him.
“Try unbuttoning your shirt for me?” He asks, though it sounds like a suggestion more than anything. Denki’s hands are shaky, and Hitoshi feels a little mean for even asking, because his nerves at his hands are damaged, so he struggles anyways. He tries though, fumbling with the bottom button, and it takes him a moment, but he opens it. His tie is already gone by the time he finishes the second button, and Hitoshi leans down, placing his hands over Denki’s. “It’s okay,” He says with a short nod, placing the blond’s hands at his sides, unbuttoning his offwhite dress shirt for him.
Denki whimpers every time his hands accidentally make contact with his skin through the shirt, and Hitoshi has to shush him every time.
“Sit up.” He basically commands, and Denki does. I don’t even need the brainwashing, he thinks to himself with a little laugh.
He plants himself back in Denki’s lap, his thighs at each of the blond’s sides, squeezing his hips slightly. He reaches under the shirt, clasping under where the sleeves start, pushing it off from underneath. Denki shudders. “You’re so quiet right now. What’s going on in that little head of yours?” He asked against Denki’s bare shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to it.
“N-nothing, sir.” Denki stammers. Hitoshi throws Denki’s shirt away and it lands somewhere on the floor.
“Oh? Your head is quiet already?” He asked, narrowing his eyes slightly. Denki just nods like he has no idea what Hitoshi just said. “That was so easy,” He murmurs. “You’re so easy.” He said that louder, and Denki looks around as if that didn’t affect him at all.
He pushes Denki back to the bed, looming over him and looking down. He undid the button on his pants, pulling the fly down, sitting up, slightly away from him. He started removing his slacks, tapping his hips. Denki lifted them, and Hitoshi just smiled at him. “Good job.”
Denki only nods at that, murmuring a soft “Thanks.” when Hitoshi took his pants off completely.
He pulled Denki by the ankle, sitting him upright. “Baby, you wanna sit and fumble with the button on my pants a little, or just let me take them off quick?”
Denki breathed through his nose audibly. He blinked at him a few times, going between looking at his eyes to his pants. He reached down, dropping his head, letting it rest on Hitoshi’s chest. He fumbled with the button, and the fly, but eventually, he got his husbands slacks off too.
“Good boy, baby..” He whispered to him, cupping his nape and kissing just behind his ear.
“Mmh,” Denki whimpered, tilting his head slightly. Hitoshi kept one hand on his nape, his other snaking down to hold his waist, laying him back down gently. His back arched into the touch, and Hitoshi could only smile against his neck.
“Shh.. Relax, you’re so tense,” He whispered, kissing his collarbone, biting on his clavicle gently. He held his wrists at his sides, watching as Denki threw his head back, Hitoshi watched as his muscles moved. He focused more on kissing and biting his neck and shoulders gently for a while, at least until he was a blushing, whimpering mess. “Baby,” Hitoshi whispered, hot breath fanning over Denki’s neck, he just whined. His hands were stuck in place next to his head. Hitoshi kissed down, from his neck to his sternum, down further, taking time to kiss and nip at his hips. He moved the waistband of his boxers out of the way to kiss his waist, pulling his thighs over his shoulders.
“Mmh-!” Denki tensed when Hitoshi kissed his stomach, squeezed his hips with his hands. His eyes watered, closed shut, he was gasping for air now, hair totally disheveled, face impossibly red.
Denki’s thighs tensed slightly, and Hitoshi just pulled them apart, shushing him gently.
“Is it that much?” He asked, leaning his head on one of his thighs. Denki just let out a shaky breath. “Baby, look at me. Come on,” He said, placing his hand over his cock, just resting it there. He tensed again, but looked at him. “There we go..” He said, nodding. “It’s so much for you. You poor thing,” He nuzzled his thigh, and he felt filthy. Hitoshi felt like the worlds biggest pervert for it. He kissed down, sitting up on his knees, pulling Denki’s legs off his shoulders. He kissed his thighs, pushing his boxers out of the way, biting the plush flesh gently just to watch him squirm. He kissed down from there, his knees, behind them too, down until he reached his ankles. He pressed a kiss to one, Denki’s eyes still glued to his, and he moaned.
“I’m taking these off now, okay?” He asked, his hands on the waistband of Denki’s boxers. One of his legs was on Hitoshi’s shoulder, only the heel, the other lying limply on the bed.
Denki nodded, and Hitoshi pulled them off carefully.
“You’re so perfect, fuck,” He laughed to himself. “Sweetheart, can you finger yourself for me?”
Denki seemed all too eager, with Hitoshi’s honeyed tone talking to him like that, he just couldn’t refuse. He sucked on his own fingers for a moment, slicking them with his own spit. He added one at first, one leg still on Hitoshi’s shoulder. He just watched, as if fascinated by it. He put a finger in, though the angle was awkward.
“Good. Just like that, Denki.” Hitoshi said, nodding. Denki whimpered. “You can take another one, come on,” He encouraged, leaning over him, Denki’s knee on his shoulder now. He whined,
“Toshi,” He started, “Toshi, I can’t,” He said hoarsely. Hitoshi tilted his head.
“Can’t what, baby? Need me to finger you?” He asked, sounding somehow sympathetic. Denki panted, nodding. “Okay. Come here,” He said, sitting up, pushing his knee off his shoulder, it fell to the bed, totally limp, and Denki removed the finger he had in himself, sitting up.
Hitoshi beckoned him over with a gesture, and he sat in his lap.
“Come here,” He cupped the side of his neck with one hand. “Open up,” He said, Denki’s lips parted slightly, and Hitoshi shoved his fingers in roughly. It made him yelp, look at Hitoshi with crinkled eyes. “Sorry, sorry, I won’t be mean to you,” He chuckled.
He made sure his fingers were wet enough before holding him up by his thighs, putting two fingers in right off the bat. Denki wrapped his arms around his neck, hiding his face in his clavicle, whimpering quietly. Hitoshi’s fingers were considerably larger than Denki’s own, so much so that one hand could cover most of the expanse of his back. Hitoshi doesn’t know why he loves that fact so much.
“Shh, good boy,” Hitoshi whispered to him, kissing his neck. “I’ve got you,” He said, pulling him up by the hair, making him look at him, before kissing him. He thrusted his fingers, despite the awkward position and the fact that it was starting to hurt his hand. He pulled away to let Denki breathe, he was already panting like crazy, and he immediately went back to hide his face in Hitoshi’s neck.
“Mmh, Toshi, Toshi..!-“ He moaned, eyes fluttering shut, shoulders tensing. “Ah, fu-uck..” His voice cracked.
“Shh.. Quiet baby, I’ve got you,” He murmured softly. “Shh..” He shushed him as he moaned when he added a third finger. “Good job, baby.. You close? Hm?” He asked, and Denki nodded, gasping and tightening his grip, bicep squeezing his neck slightly. “You wanna cum on my fingers? Yeah?” Denki nodded,
“Ah- Yes, please, please, please sir, please- T-Toshi!- Nnh,” He gasped, Hitoshi just nodded.
“You sure you’ll be able to handle getting fucked after this?” He asked, and Denki nodded frantically. Hitoshi eyed him. “Yeah? Gonna cum hard and make a mess of yourself all over my dick?” He teased, and that was all Denki needed. He kept nodding, whimpering as he came on his fingers.
“Good boy..” Hitoshi whispered. Denki was breathless, his shoulders relaxed as he panted, still moaning despite Hitoshi having pulled his fingers out.
“Mmh..” He just whimpered, and Hitoshi hugged him, carding through his blond hair until he’d calmed down a bit. Everything was so hot now, they were both sweating like crazy. Lazily, Denki reached to grab for Hitoshi’s hair, pulling it out of it’s bun, which was now messy and barely held together.
“Let me tie your hair up,” Hitoshi said, plucking the hairtie from Denki’s grip. He tied his hair into a ponytail, kissing his temple. “You need a break?” He asked, and Denki only shook his head.
“More,” He begged hoarsely. Hitoshi smiled, cupping under his thighs, holding him up. He lined him up, slowly sinking him down onto his dick.
“Hah-!” Denki whimpered into his neck, still holding on tight. Hitoshi grunted, teeth gritting.
“Fuck, that’s good..” He whispered. Denki’s thighs squeezed Hitoshi’s waist slightly, and he could feel them shaking.
Hitoshi cupped Denki’s nape, lying him down on his back again. His stray hairs and bangs spread out.
Like this, Denki could fully see Hitoshi.
“Hnnh, hot,” He whimpered, because he was. Hitoshi was. His darkened, lidded eyes, white pupils blown out, totally overtaking the purple. His long purple hair framing his face, resting on his shoulders and cascading down his back. His strong arms holding him by the bottom side of his knees, shoulders and abs tensing in just the right ways. “Mmh.. You’re so- hot, so- so, pretty,”
Hitoshi’s face flushed and he bit his lips. “Jesus christ,” He sighed under his breath, thrusting experimentally. Denki moaned. “You’re not gonna be able to talk when I’m finished with you, puppy.” He said absentmindedly, jaw tensed. Denki blinked at him a few times. “You’re not gonna be able to even fathom me wanting someone else, much less a villain, over you,” He thrusted again, and Denki cried out. “Gonna overstimulate you so bad,” He grunted, “You’re gonna be sobbing for me. You want that, puppy? You wanna show me how good you can be?” He asked, and Denki nodded frantically, unable to answer verbally anymore.
“Gonna break that damn mind of yours,” He said to himself more than to Denki, “Make you cum all over my dick and make a mess of yourself, fuck you silly,” He was panting now, and Denki was barely holding on anymore. Hitoshi leaned over, hooking his legs over his shoulders, intertwining their hands, pressing them to the sheets. It made Denki fucking lose it. His eyes glassy and jaw slack.
“Mmh- Mmh!- Hi-Hitoshi,” He gasped, eyes screwed shut as Hitoshi slammed against his prostate over and over again.
“You gonna cum baby?” He asked, and Denki nodded. “Answer.”
Denki’s eyes opened, crinkled and glossed over, and he tried.
“Y- Hnn, Yes,” He said helplessly. “F-fuck! Mmh!” Hitoshi watched as Denki came again, throwing his head back, hands writhing. Hitoshi never let go of them, only helped him through it, kissing all around his neck and collarbone.
“You’re so fucking messy, puppy,” He muttered under his breath. At this point, Denki was just slurring over his words, once loud moans turning into quiet whimpers and weak gasps, desperate for air. “Came all over the sheets, all over yourse- Ah!- Yourself, what am I gonna do with you?” His voice strained. He reached down with one hand and held his cock gently, and Denki made a strangled sort of sound, thighs shaking. “Baby, want me to make it quiet?” He asked. “Fuck you silly? Huh?”
Denki just gasped and cried, “Ah!- Yes, yes!-“ And that was all Hitoshi needed. He activated his quirk, and suddenly Denki’s head was silent. He wasn’t though, still whimpering and crying.
“Denki, baby, I’m gonna make you cum one more t-time,” He whispered to him, and he just gasped, “You’re gonna feel so good,” His voice strained, he said it like a promise, and it was one. “Gonna- hold your hips to the bed, rail you while you cum so hard you see stars, and then we’ll be all done, okay?” He asked. Denki only whimpered. “Fucking- Shit! Ah, Denki..!-“ He became more frantic. “Fucking hell, I love you- S-so much,” He said, “Can’t believe you- Ever thought I could- Mmh!- Love anyone more than you,” He gritted his teeth, holding his hips closer. Denki just whimpered weakly. “You’re the love of my life, m-my husband; my everything,” He said weakly, face buried in Denki’s neck. His eyes closed shut. “God- I’m so- You’re so—“ He stammered, “Hnnh! Fuck, Denki- Cum, just- C-cum all over my dick,” He managed. Denki’s body forced himself to cum again, and the expression he made was downright obscene. Eyes closed shut, tears falling down as he panted and gasped and moaned things that sounded like variations of Hitoshi’s name, face flushed and sweaty, hair fanned out, his ponytail long fucked up, jaw slack. Hitoshi slammed himself in one last time, cumming inside of him. He gripped his hips, holding them to the bed. He must have been so overstimulated now, because he was still gasping and whining when Hitoshi collapsed on top of him. Hitoshi let go, though he didn’t see any difference between him while brainwashed and him not, because his eyes were still unfocused and he was still crying and whimpering like he was still getting railed.
Hitoshi needed a few moments, he shut his eyes, taking a few deep breaths, still buried inside of Denki. He panted, forcing himself to look at his husband with a grunt.
“Baby, baby. Look at me,” He said weakly, cupping his neck, and that was apparently too much, because he gasped, and his eyes fluttered. “Shh, it’s okay now,” He whispered, leaning to kiss him. If earlier was Denki being sloppy, then this was him being downright filthy. He managed to get spit in his mouth despite Hitoshi being on top of him somehow, there was drool leaking from his mouth, and Hitoshi thumbed at it, bringing it up to his mouth again. “There you go,” He said, laughing a bit as Denki licked it off of his finger. “I’m pulling out, okay?” He asked, and Denki just whimpered, eyes fluttering again. “Shh.” He held his thigh, pulling out carefully, and his breath hitched.
“Hnnhh—!”
“Shh, shh, we’re done baby. You’re okay.” He said, rubbing his thigh reassuringly. Denki just whimpered. “Talk to me?” He asked, and the blond just stared. He blinked at him a few times.
“Mmh..” He furrowed his brows.
“Can’t talk?” He asked, they were both still panting, and that might have been one of the most intense orgasms of his life. Denki just murmured something under his breath. “Okay.”
He grabbed a water bottle from the nightstand next to their bed, drinking half of it. “Come here, Denki,” He said, pulling him to sit up with grueling effort. His head laid on Hitoshi’s shoulder. “Baby, come on,” He said, voice still breathy. He laid Denki’s head back, his breathing slowly stabilizing. “Drink.” He said, tilting the water bottle against his lips. Denki drank slowly at first, becoming more and more eager for the water as time went on. “Finish,” Hitoshi instructed, and Denki did.
He let the blond lie down again, and he basically collapsed back onto the bed as Hitoshi sloppily threw the water bottle into the trashcan, surprised he even landed it.
He fell next to him, cupping his cheek and kissing him lazily, then all around his face, his cheeks, forehead, down the bridge of his nose to the tip of it.
Denki just sighed tiredly at it, a lazy, loopy smile on his face.
“I told you I’d fuck you silly.” Hitoshi murmured, kissing his temple, pulling him closer under the sheets. He’d swap them later. “You can’t even talk. Poor baby.” He chuckled to himself, and Denki shifted a bit. His eyes shut contently and he snored quietly. Hitoshi played with his hair, kissing the crown of his head, before falling asleep to the best fucking sleep of his life.