Mirio fucking Tamaki between classes. Breaks are risky, so they just get permission to go to the bathroom around the same time.
Nothing to help with anxiety like being fucked hard and deep against the nearest surface.
At first, they'd fuck on top of one of the sinks. Tamaki would bend over, red-faced, and shiver as Mirio's calloused hands undo his belt and pull down his pants. He'd shiver as his boyfriend prods his ass with his tongue, tasting whatever Tamaki prepped himself with+
that morning. Mirio would the flavor against his hole again and again as he kneaded the skin of Tamaki's ass, all to uncover that pink hole, already gaping and clenching on nothing. He'd get his tongue there, in and out, until Tamaki begged. And then he would fuck him like+
that: raw and strong and /dirty/.
It was great. So great in fact they ended up causing an accident: a bad position later, one of the sinks was on the floor and Tamaki was wishing for a quick death that would be preferable to whatever Aizawa would do to them once+
this mess got to his ears.
It didn't happen in the end, of course: Mirio told their teachers that he'd been trying to climb the sink, and somehow he was erratic enough for that excuse to suffice. They spent a few weeks without meeting, Tamaki all too terrified of what+
would happen if they got caught.
In the end, the need was stronger than the fear. They had to try again. But this time, they'd get inside a stall.
The darkness and relative solitude do wonders for Tamaki's bravery. Instead of bending over, he gets to his knees, taking Mirio's cock in his mouth with a long pleased moan. Now it's him kneading his boyfriend's ass with his hands, pulling his ass cheeks apart to+
push a long slick tentacle inside that tight sweet hole.
The best is what comes afterwards: the hands pulling at his hair and forcing him to his feet, bending him over and all but slamming inside of him, filling him up so good he'd scream every time, wasn't Mirio's+
huge hand covering his mouth.
It's quick and wild and hot; his body already at its limit. He comes with a low pitiful whine, biting Mirio's hand.
Mirio peppers kisses on his back, then; and on the side of his neck, and his cheeks and his forehead. He kisses him+
deep afterwards, and that only adds up to the sense of peace he gets from being thoroughly well fucked.
The only person who notices something strange is Hadou, that can't help but wonder what is so good about the boys' bathroom that Amajiki almost always comes back smiling.
Mirio has a knack for voyeurism. He likes the idea if being watched. Whenever Tamaki is inside him, he likes to close his eyes and imagine a crowd watching him. He imagines the hundreds, maybe thousands of hands flying off to+
so many strangers' pants: hundreds or thousands of people jerking off to /him/.
At a point, Tamaki starts watching conferences. Mirio has no idea why he wants to hear people talk about science stuff when they're not at school, but it works wonders for his kink. Whenever Tamaki+
plays those, he locks himself off in the nearest bathroom to jerk off, imagining himself in the middle of a lecture, naked, his boyfriend's hand lazily curled around his cock to distract him, almost nonchalantly, as if he was an annoying pet asking for attention. He always+
Mirai's shoulders tense, just as he closes the zipper of his last suitcase. He scolds himself on his foolishness — did he really think he'd be able to avoid Toshinori? Was he really planning to leave their apartment+
like a robber in the night? To disappear without giving the other man an explanation?
Apparently, he was.
He turns around, feeling his heart clench in his chest when he catches sight of Toshinori. They left him out of the hospital, so he's wearing regular civilian+
clothes: jeans and a t-shirt. Mirai wishes he could only see that: the expansion of his muscles under the t-shirt and those strong thighs on the jeans. He wishes he couldn't see the deep dark circles under his eyes, or those thin lines exhaustion is already drawing+
Tamaki wonders if he knows; how hard it is to resist that smile when he uses its full power.
He probably doesn't.
He sighs again, toying with the hem of his gloves. He really shouldn't. Taking off his gloves feels wrong, worse than being completely naked.
He bites his bottom lip, trying to think of what to do. He knows Mirio likes to see his scales, specially under the sunlight. He likes the colors. Tamaki likes them too, but he likes them alone in his room, when he can look at the colors without fearing they'll be seen+
Sure, he tricked him: he took advantage of Mirio's amnesia to get him away from the heroes. He let Mirio think they were /dating/. And Mirio played right into his hand.
But he also took care of him. And he is so sweet and so kind. And so lonely. He needed someone. And, even knowing what he knows now, Mirio doesn't want to stop being that someone.
But he wouldn't have imagined this. For the last few weeks, Mirio has been nothing but enthusiastic: he's been all encouragement, keeping Tamaki from somehow abandoning the race even before it started. He was still doing it this morning, when he walked all the+
way to Tamaki's house to make sure he didn't pretend to be sick to avoid showing up to the exam. His best friend had gone as far as to get into Tamaki's room, refusing to leave for the exam until Tamaki begrudgingly got out of bed.