[Any control that Izuku might have had left snaps with those words, his expression changing into something hungrier as he pulls back to look at Shouto.
His hands slip under Shouto's shirt to splay over his stomach possessively for a moment before he tugs at the shirt's hem, pulling it up.]
Take this off. [He demands in a voice that he'd hardly recognize in himself.]
no subject
His hands slip under Shouto's shirt to splay over his stomach possessively for a moment before he tugs at the shirt's hem, pulling it up.]
Take this off. [He demands in a voice that he'd hardly recognize in himself.]