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“Did you put the mats in the supplies closet, or do you need me to do it?”
“No, I already—”
Aizawa goes down under his quirk before Shinsou can finish the sentence, and he sags in relief. His heart is beating quick-tempoed like a rabbit with the thrill of mind controlling his mentor; he does that a lot, but always during their designated training sessions, not any other time.
“I’m sorry, I just…shit,” he mutters, but there’s no point in explaining out loud anyway, no one there to listen to him.
The truth is that he panicked.
He just finished taking a shower in the locker room after another training session with Aizawa, getting his ass handed to him especially hard, and Aizawa came out of the changing room earlier than usual. He was shirtless and with his hair slicked back, still glistening with little sweat drops running down his pecs, looking like he manifested directly from Shinsou’s wet dreams.
“You’re staring an awful lot,” Aizawa commented nonchalantly, making Shinsou snap out of his dirty daydreams and realize that while Aizawa is only half naked, he’s the one with his dick out.
A traitorous dick that’s already at half mast, something he’d rather break rules than have a conversation about, hence…this.
“It’s not my fault. Why’d you have to come out early, and shirtless?” Shinsou grumbles at his blank-faced mentor. Aizawa always changes in a different room, locking the door behind him, and Shinsou has been spending quite a while thinking about why . It’s not a teacher policy—he asked Monoma last week about private training sessions, and apparently Vlad-sensei changes and showers in the same space with his male students. So what’s different about Aizawa?
Shinsou has a few theories; Maybe he has tattoos that the school deemed inappropriate. Maybe he’s shy. Maybe he has an especially potent body odor…
He couldn’t think of a single reason that didn’t turn him on.
“Since you know my secrets, It’s only fair that I steal yours.”
Predictably, there’s no response to the outrageous proclamation. Aizawa’s eyes glow purple, his mouth is slack-jawed, his posture is loose all the way to the fingertips that occasionally twitch. Hitoshi knows every detail, every change that takes place in Aizawa’s body when he’s under his quirk because he can’t stop stealing glances when they’re training alone—he’s supposed to restrain Aizawa immediately, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. There’s always a few seconds to catch his breath, come closer, and indulge. He’s done it so many times that his skill improved and he’s able to hook Aizawa even with non-lexical responses to his questions, but he never made Aizawa do what he really wanted.
"Take off your pants."
His voice comes out weak and breathless, but it doesn't matter as long as he has firm control over Aizawa’s mind.
Aizawa does as he's commanded, hooking his thumbs under his sweat pants and pulling them down all the way to his ankles, and revealing a pair of simple gray briefs, hairy legs, and no tattoos whatsoever. There's dark gray stains of sweat between his thighs and crotch, and Shinsou swears he just planned to look, just to fuel his fantasy and expand his spank bank, but the moment he sees that wetness he falls to his knees, putting his face between that hairy groin, seals his lips on the edge of the fabric and starts sucking.
“Nhh, mhh,” he moans into it, sucking that musky sweat from the briefs into his mouth. Aizawa smells strong and pungent, like a real man, and he can’t help but get drunk on it, sucking the moistness straight from the source and licking over the salty skin.
“I’m sorry se’sei,” he rasps, “I’m too into this…”
The firm muscle of his thigh, the softness between the legs, and the round, plump package that rubs on his cheeks, all those sensations make him almost dizzy with the notion that that's where his face belongs, between Aizawa’s legs.
He detaches from Aizawa for a moment, licking his lips clean before opening his mouth again.
"Take off your underwear."
He’s so excited, that the command doesn’t catch the first time and he has to concentrate and repeat it, but finally Aizawa moves and Shinsou’s eyes are glued right on the prize.
Fuck, I'm so hungry for it, let me see how big that dick is—
The answer is simply, small.
Most of what he felt under the fabric turn out to be Aizawa’s balls; they are big, hairy and heavy, with just a bit of sag to them that Shinsou absolutely adores. Laying on it is his dick, chubby like a thumb with a nice mushroom of a cockhead, but shorter than his balls.
Shinsou stands up to see his mentor naked in his full glory, burning the image of this sweaty, strong, handsome man into his memory. His facial expression may be lacking given the circumstances, but Aizawa was never very expressive anyways, always keeping his emotions and opinions to himself and letting his actions do the talking, so he continues his self-guided tour over Aizawa’s body—his round ass, the muscular thighs, the happy trail leading down to his crotch, the heftiness of his ballsack and the cuteness of his dick—and it’s quite cute. Now that Shinsou has taken a step back and can assess the scale, Aizawa’s dick is indeed below average, and it’s especially visible when comparing with the size of the rest of his body.
It's not bad. Some fantasies about getting his guts rearranged shatter, sure, but new ones take their place. And who knows, maybe he's a grower?
“Are you a grower, sensei?” Shinsou asks, but no answer comes. He really shouldn’t, but…
“I guess I’ll find out for myself.”
This is so wrong, but seeing the dick of his dreams and knowing it’s within reach, makes just seeing it simply not enough.
He drops to his knees again, and his own hard cock bobs with the motion. He takes his thumb and index finger and pinches them lightly over his mentor’s soft dick, giving it a little squish, just to feel the thickness of it, or the lack thereof. It’s warm and velvety in his hand, and he immediately starts to rub it.
There’s only a few centimeters to Aizawa’s shaft and it’s hard to jerk it consistently with small motions…but he hates feeling like he’s doing a bad job with it, especially after spending so much time around a perfectionist like Aizawa, so he just takes his dick in his mouth and licks around it.
“Mmmph…”
The musky, salty flavor of cock fills his mouth and he swallows all he can get, sucking on the soft dick like a baby sucking his thumb.
“Fuck Sensei,” he slurs with his mouth half-full. “You taste so good.”
With all the pungent flavor of cock already swallowed down, he takes the balls into his mouth too. Fitting both the soft dick and the heavy ball sack imposes a real challenge to his mouth cavity but he still manages to contain it all and lick all around it, savoring the sweat covering the tender wrinkly skin of his scrotum.
Aizawa grunts and Shinsou can feel a slight twitch in his mouth. When he looks up he realizes that the glowing purple eyes are staring down at him, and not looking straight ahead as they did before.
Yes, eyes on me, like you were always meant to , he moans into the connection, and when he starts to suck in earnest, he feels a soft tingle of pleasure buzzing through his own cock, or at least, the first two or so inches of it. He gasps and stops, grinning and diving back to it as he realizes that a fraction of Aizawa’s pleasure is mirrored in his own dick.
He’s never had sex before, nonetheless while mind controlling anyone—who knew he could not only hook Aizawa’s will and obedience, but hijack his physical sensations? What more could they share through the quirk?
It’s getting crowded in his mouth, and when he runs his tongue over the peen he feels it hard and stiff.
“Let me see what you look like when you want it,” Shinsou slurs as he detaches from the cock, letting it spring up, observing how dark and full of blood it is, leaking against his stomach.
“Beautiful.”
It’s still quite short and as thick as a thumb, but Shinsou is in love with its spongy crown, the texture of the shaft, the darkened base; the size doesn’t matter, he’ll take anything from that man.
He’s rock hard now—how could he not be? Every secret glance, every shameful, suppressed thought led him to this moment, where he gets everything he ever wanted. Looking at Aizawa like this feels like a mind breaking journey of self-discovery as much as it is a voyeuristic opportunity.
He could make Aizawa fuck him, but the thought of them having sex without Aizawa remembering anything is completely unbearable. For now he’ll make do with one-sided pleasure, getting to know Aizawa’s body and making him feel good like he deserves. And then one day, maybe when he’s older…
“Do you know how much I want you? Do you know you could have me anytime, anywhere?”
He probes deeper into the connection, trying to breach through the dark cloud of Aizawa’s mind and find a clue for his question, to connect better, to make the shapes through the purple haze—
“—Yes.”
Shinsou startles, losing his balance. There’s no one else here, and he can easily recognize Aizawa’s voice, but he… he couldn’t have replied. He’s still under, his eyes remaining blank and cloudy.
“C-can you react to what I say?” he asks fearfully.
There's no more answer. Of course there isn't, nobody can talk with his quirk activated, but still…he probes their connection again, trying to find the exact grip he had before.
Grasping obedience is something that came naturally with his quirk, but this is different, more personal; like the stilted flow of consciousness is more malleable through the shared physical sensations. The fog of Aizawa’s mind is heavy and he feels like he’s waving his hands around blindly, until eventually he finds it , and pulls. It's tiring to maintain, but possible, and knows he did something right when Aizawa’s mouth loosens a bit.
“Will you remember this?”
“No.”
Shinsou exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Aizawa’s first answer is still fresh in his mind and he asks a different question.
“Would you have fucked me, if, you know…”
There’s no answer.
“Would you fuck me if I asked you to, clear-headed without my quirk activated?”
“No.”
“That’s cold, Sensei,” Shinsou chuckles breathlessly, feeling like a boulder dropped in his gut all of the sudden.
Calm down, this is the reasonable answer, Aizawa is a good man, a good mentor. You wouldn't have fallen for him otherwise.
He lays his finger over Aizawa’s cockhead, barely touching, just enough to keep him hard.
“Forgive me for being selfish then. I promise I won’t do it again.”
He dives back down, taking Aizawa’s stiff dick in one go, gobbling down on the little prick. He can feel Aizawa’s pleasure mirrored much clearer now through the new backdoor connection he made. Though it’s exerting to maintain and he finds himself out of breath quickly, he still persists, pleasuring both his mentor’s dick and his own.
“It’s not easy,” he pants, “but you deserve this, deserve a good time from me, don’t you think?”
“I think you deserve better than an old man with a disappointing dick.”
Shinsou stops sucking, the words out of Aizawa’s mouth shocking him to the core. They lighten the rejection from before, but Shinsou still feels hurt, like he was personally insulted.
“That’s not true!”
There’s no reaction when he doesn’t ask questions. Maybe one day he can develop this new ability enough to have a conversation, but for now only questions trigger a verbal response, so instead of showering Aizawa with compliments and praise, he interrogates.
“How do you feel about your dick?”
The response comes out unnaturally fast.
“I’ve gotten used to it and I know how to work with it, how to keep a partner satisfied, and that’s all that matters. I still don’t like it though, and I don’t like being judged by the size of my dick, or pitied for it.”
Shit.
It’s frustrating that Aizawa doesn’t see himself as the sex god he is, but it just shows that self love doesn’t come easy, no matter who you are.
“Is this why you don’t change with me in the locker room? You didn’t want me to know?”
“Yes.”
“Oh,” Shinsou pauses. “I’d never tell, or pity you. Did anyone ever tell you your dick is gorgeous?”
“No.”
He can’t take it anymore. He dives back even more determined, taking the hard prick in his mouth, balls in hand, feeling his own scrotum tingle and the first half of his dick throb with pleasure.
“Does it feel good?” he dares ask, feeling giddy while sharing those sensations.
“Yes.”
In just one word delivered in a cold, deadpan tone, Aizawa manages to make him choke on his dick, almost dizzy with the act. He’s running out of air often but the effort just enhances it all—he likes being made to stop and catch his breath, look and appreciate the man whose dick he’s sucking, proud of being on his knees for Aizawa. Even his static voice does things to Shinsou, so he keeps him talking.
“What do you do in bed with your partners?” huff, huff, “What do you do to keep them satisfied?”
“I bottom or use my hands and mouth, as much as they’ll let me. If they want me to top I’ll do a quick prep and slide in, so the size feels like more inside an unstretched hole.”
Shinsou’s ass clenches on nothing, suddenly needing to feel exactly that. “That’s so hot Sensei.”
He takes his pinky together with his ring finger, licks them and crosses them—that should be around the size of Aizawa’s dick. He usually takes it slow when he fingers himself, taking his time to relax and loosen, lube the hole and slide in delicately.
Not this time. He takes it all in one go, moaning like a whore around Aizawa’s dick.
It burns his tight walls in a way that is painfully satisfying, and he can’t believe he’s milking so much sensation out of just two fingers. He can’t believe he’s getting it so good, in so many ways: a delicious dick occupying his mouth, his fingers lighting him up from the inside in a way he’s never experienced before, and his hot mentor, naked and pliant, answering any question on his dirty mind.
“I need the details, how do you fuck?”He asks and immediately seals his mouth on Aizawa’s dick like a vacuum, sucking hard and rewarding his own aching cock with a new burst of pleasure.
“Sometimes I barely use lube, or go in with ginger infused lube so it burns if they like it rough. Sometimes I go really fast, or jerking them off, working their clits. I can slam into you hard enough to bruise, or just leave it inside to warm you up. Sometimes I…”
For the first time, Aizawa’s mechanical manner of speaking slows down. He struggles to get any words out of his mouth, and his thighs tense up.
“You wanna cum? Do it, in my mouth, come on,” Hitoshi spits out and immediately seals his lips over Aizawa’s pulsing dick just in time to feel sparks curling around his cock, more intense than before. Their connection positively throbs with Aizawa’s orgasm and Shinsou shakes in ecstasy. A bitter flavor fills his mouth he cums too, thrusting his fingers against his prostate and fantasizing about all the ways Aizawa said he fucks in at the same time.
“Mphh, nmhg!” He moans with his mouth full as his semen spatters on the ceramic floor and he stays on his knees, slowly taking the load of cum down his throat, cherishing every drop.
It takes a few minutes for Shinsou to come to his senses, and loosen his control on Aizawa’s mind just enough to keep him under and obeying.
He soaks his own saliva from Aizawa’s crotch and cleans the floor from the cum, seriously considering burning the towel and getting rid of the evidence.
“Put your pants on.”
Aizawa does as he’s commanded quickly and effectively, looking just as he did before Shinsou defiled him.
Yeah, okay, post-nut clarity hits hard. He shouldn’t have done it, but at the same time, he looks at Aizawa again with a new kind of affection and desire and he knows he’d never give up this new information he got, the connection, and especially not the new brainwashing skill… now, he only needs to find an organic way to re-discover it with a conscious Aizawa. Would his mentor praise him? Would he smile?
“Wake up when I leave the room.” He commands, and packs his things up to leave. When the door is in front of him he looks at Aizawa one last time, cringing at the thought of the situation they were in just before the brainwashing. Is there anything else he should do?
One more thing comes to mind. It’s not exactly an actionable command, but he makes sure to echo it through the connection, loud and strong.
“Know you have a great dick. I know because I felt it, in a way,” he chuckles to himself, “So you should love it more, love it as much as I do.”
The door shuts behind him and severs their connection.