“HOT DOG!”
a mha college au feat. DENKI K. & HANTA S.
“ladies and gentlemen, introducing, the chocolate starfish, and the hot dog flavoured water…. BRING IT ON!”
mdni
cw: “HELP!! MY BESTFRIEND WANTS ME TO SUCK HIS DICK SO HE CAN RECORD IT AND SEND IT TO HIS SITUATIONSHIP?!”
wc: 2k
starting track….
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…….
“dude, you’re fumbling with the thing—”
“—i’m not, s’literally fine—”
“you’re gonna— you’re gonna smudge the cam— oh my god—”
“shit, i dropped it, hold on….”
“…you’re a fuckin’ mess.”
“me?! i’m the mess??? this was your idea.”
sero snatches his phone back from his bestfriend with a half-scoff half-snort. it was a bad idea asking denki to do this, the guy never takes anything seriously.
not that this is serious.
this, this is the funniest thing of the century.
this, this is him proving how fucking petty he can be.
because you, oh god, you’ve been taking the piss. ignoring his messages, acting like you don’t know him when he sees you in public, posting another guy on your story. really? and the dude wasn’t even all that.
he had to get his lick back, obviously.
but he has to be smart about this.
posting himself with a girl wouldn't do anything other than push you further away, and while he does enjoy your little games. he does actually, sorta-kinda like you.
he needed something, something good, something smart, something to make you jealous, but also hot, bothered, and horny.
how could he pass up an opportunity like this, a gift from above, or below, however you wanna look at it, in the form of denki kaminari.
because you're aware, he told you himself, offhandedly, about how he and denki used to fuck. not heavy, just two bisexual best friends, down on their luck, fried as shit, sometimes denki's dick in his mouth was just the natural progression of things, he can't help that.
but he remembers what you had said in reply.
“that's hot.”
and he was tickled, ego stroked, he prodded you further, because what exactly is the hot part, him, denki, both of them together? and you, in your own words said you wouldn't mind watching.
something about, yaoi, hentai, and something else about heated rivalry, and something else that he wasn't fucking listening to, because he was already filing this away for later.
you wouldn't mind watching.
but you’re not here. in fact, he hasn’t seen you for weeks, he thinks you might be mad at him for something he forgot about.
but just because you're not here doesn't mean he's just gonna fuck his fist, and mope about. not when his roommate is the denki kaminari.
the camera flips around.
they’re in hanta’s room, low blue lighting, nu metal on the speaker, loud enough to mask the noise they’re about to make, but not loud enough to distract from the task at hand.
denki’s leaned against the headboard, face lit by the blue light of his phone, probably scrolling on reels.
because sero was right. denki is not taking this seriously, at all. because this is stupid, you and hanta always fight like this, and he has to hear all about sero’s new ‘get back plan’ every fucking time.
at least this time he gets a good fuck out of it.
“hey princess,” the blonde says when he realises the camera’s facing him now. he throws a lazy peace sign at sero’s phone with a grin.
yeah, he’s gonna get a good fuck out of this.
he can already tell. sero came to him with an ‘idea’ which was just cornering him in the kitchen and pressing his boner into the crease of denki’s ass and murmuring lowly in his ear, asking him to come up to his room and ‘help him out with something’.
if he had known then, that he was about to make a sex tape with his bestfriend, he would've oiled up for the camera.
instead he's shirtless, hair tousled, the corner of his shitty sonic tattoo poking out from under his waistband, and emoting like a dickhead.
just before he can do one last bicep flex, the camera flips back round to sero. eyebrow raised in distaste, the piercing catches the flash of the phone, he's rolling his eyes and scratching the corner of his nose.
"anyway," hanta clears his throat, slips back into that stupid fake nonchalant tone he gets when he’s sending you voice messages, “i remember you said you were into that whole ‘yaoi' thing.”
he snorts, like he's mocking you, "me n' denks were gonna bang, so, i figured," he's collapses onto the bed next to denki with no grace or care for where he lands, you can hear denki complain in the background. "why not show you what you're missing?"
he grabs the blonde by the face, squishing his cheeks with his palms and drags his face into the picture. both of 'em cheesing at the phone, with matching hazy eyes and drooping smiles. like ying and yang with equal degrees of swag and stupidity across them both.
denki runs his tongue across his teeth, he’s been waiting for sero to do something for a minute, to touch him, to touch himself, a kiss, anything.
instead sero’s still fumbling with his phone, trying to figure out where’s he’s gonna put it to get the perfect angle.
and denki’s tired of waiting.
“dude,” the blonde’s voice is lower now, softer, two steps away from a whisper. “dude, dude— hanta.”
there’s a shiver that snakes it’s way up sero spine when he hears denki say his name. it’s weirdly intimate, in a way it’s not normally. it scratches an itch somewhere deep in his gut.
denki sighs again, impatient, borderline pouting at the lack of attention. but his gaze is heavy lidded, and his voice is syrupy. “just hold it for now, you can put it down later.”
and sero’s easy. they both know this. that’s why denki takes it upon himself to crawl over to where his best friend is still sat on the edge of the bed.
“you’re thinking ‘bout this too much,” he winks at the camera, hands running up and down the faded material coating hanta’s thighs.
as he curls his fingers around hanta’s waistband, nails gently tracing the exposed skin, “let’s just do what we normally do.”
hanta’s disembodied groan echoes, “yeaaah—ngh, yeah,” denki palming his erection through the fabric, “yeah, you’re so fuckin’ right.”
denki smirks at the shaking camera, because he knows, whenever you watch this, that you’re thinking what he’s thinking.
he traces the tip of hanta’s weeping cock through the fabric, softly, barely there, so easily pulling groans out from his friend. it’s so easy to get sero worked up, a bat of your eyelashes, the promise of a blowjob, he’s already half way to busting.
“hanta,” denki coos again. coy. so fucking coy. batting his pretty eyelashes with that doe-eyed look on his face, of course sero was a goner. the camera is visibly shaking from where he’s trying to keep the screen tilted. the blonde paws at his waistband, “lemme suck you off, real quick, i promise.”
what’s a guy to do?
fuck, he can’t do anything. except gulp, audibly. and nod his head like an overeager puppy.
but denki wants to have fun, why not. isn’t this supposed to be a show, a show for you, something sweet to wash out the bitter taste of the toxicity of your ‘relationship’ with hanta, in the first place.
“that’s not an answer,” slow, syrupy, as he licks his lips, eyes directed at hanta through the phone screen. he’s gone back to featherlight touches.
you both know sero loves this the most.
the build-up, the steady climb upwards. and every breath, every stutter, every sigh, every moan, in between then and now, he inhales all of it. almost like he enjoys this more than actually getting his nut. the act of dangling the pleasure in front of his face, just out of reach but so easily obtainable.
“m’sorry,” he exhales, eyes fluttering at the mere idea of denki’s mouth on his cock, “wan’ you t’suck my—fu-uck—”
shit, he would’ve dropped his phone if not for the burning desire for you to see this too, because denki’s mouth is like velvet.
the fleshy walls of his inner cheeks coax thick dribbles of pre-cum out of hanta’s throbbing cock. that perfect fuckin’ tongue of his glazes the underside in hypnotic waves, and all hanta can do is sit there and take it, let denki make a mess outta him.
it feels disgustingly good as the blonde pools his saliva and spits it right back onto him, that hanta can’t help but whine, low in the back of throat.
it’s a shame you can’t see his face. the way he tips his head back exposing the deep flush that blooms underneath the hickeys layering the column of his throat. his eyes, dark, dazed, and actively rolling back into his head, then fluttering closed, automatic, the puppet strings of his pleasure being pulled taut.
but you’d be able to hear how he hisses, “shii-it,” you’d be able to hear the pants pattering within his lungs increasing in volume every second, and the broken groans echoing in his chest with each bob of denki’s head.
you’d definitely get a clear view of denki. you’d see his mouth stretched around the base of hanta’s cock, bulge pressing against his cheek, visible from the outside, nose flush against the dark hair of his crotch.
and you know exactly what that smells like, if you inhaled now you’d probably still get notes of it. of that musk, the sweet sweat, that thing that is so uniquely hanta, that you could recognise with your eyes closed.
unlike denki, who’s dewey eyes are half lidded and fixed directly onto the camera. he’s a show off, he can’t help it, it just comes naturally to him at times like this. he might be laying it on a bit thick, swollen lips glistening with spit and jizz, eyelashes wet like lily stalks after rainfall. tears beading in his water line. the soft pout on his face as he slaps hanta’s cock against his lips, again, and again, and again.
but the dick-drunk daze in his eyes is real enough.
enough to let you know, whenever you do watch this, that denki’s cock is probably just as leaky as hanta's. in fact, if you're paying attention, you'd be able to see the way his hips roll, ever so slightly, and the friction making his mouth water. every subtle shift is just another drag of his cock against, either hanta's mattress, or, plainly, the material confining him.
either way, it's hot as fuck.
hanta seems to think so, "t-that's it, yeah, all the way into-nngh, shit, just. like. that."
deeper and deeper, all the way down into denki's throat, all the way down—
and that's where the picture goes black. muffled. fuck.
lucky for hanta.
because i doubt he'd want you to hear how wrecked he sounded, how animalistic. or see the primal instincts that caused him to grab denki's hair with both palms, white knuckled grip, and breed his throat. or watch him lose all composure as he forces the blonde to swallow every last drop.
and i doubt denki would've wanted you to see the way he limply accepted it, came back for seconds even, licking up every last spurt of his best friend's frothy cum. or the way he whimpered pathetically when he matched pace, and made a mess all over himself.
or the way he said thank you, afterwards.
or how hanta had grabbed him by the face and yanked the blonde back down on top of him. or how their mouths mashed together, hanta slurping the remnants of his own cum from the crevices of denki's mouth.
and i seriously doubt either one would've wanted you to see the electric current of overstimulation that phased through them both, after their sticky spent cocks made contact, in matching, delicious, pathetic humps.
or the way they spent the next twenty minutes torturing each other with the sensation, twitchy bodies and dazed grins.
…end of playback
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ermmm… haiiiii thank you for waiting
@dollybabygirly @blueheavenmilkshake @kamislop @dhyuns @rumisgf @scarletgremlin @mymixedupfandoms @lilszier @zmbkats @bussdownflockiana @juliethhhh @salixeris @cattleqtie @realbadgyalll @sinister-italian-music @tokkushin @dotalicious @updownandbatty
