Work Text:
Yuuki Mishima clung to the handle, staring out the windows at the surroundings whipping by the train. He tended to stay close to the door, even though you technically weren’t supposed to do that, in a vain attempt not to get crushed by the twin masses of people entering and exiting the train when it stopped. It always happened anyway, but at least he was out first and could be on his way.
Standing near the doors definitely didn’t have anything to do with the fact that he wanted to be away from gropers as soon as possible, because if it did, he’d have to admit that he had an ass truly worth groping.
Hell, he had originally joined the volleyball team in an effort to help shave down some of the excess weight that had built up on his lower body, but he quickly learned it was useless: he was just going to be an especially thick-assed boy and that’s all there was to it. The rest of him was so dramatically slim and wiry in comparison, but there was no denying the way his ass swelled out so fully behind him, tending to strain the pants of the Shujin Academy uniform to the limit.
Which, of course, led to plenty of salarymen on the train seeing him from behind, spying that jutting, juicy ass, and assuming he was a bottom-heavy girl just aching to have that ass appreciated. Which he wasn’t! Every time it happened -- and believe you me, it happened more often than you might think -- every time he felt a hand stroking over the enormity of his thick rear, he struggled to work up the nerve to turn and call the groper out. To chastise him, to have the nerve to actually do something.
But he never did. He stood meekly, blushing, clutching the handle all the more tightly and just praying that his stop would arrive soon.
What was even worse was how sensitive it truly was. He hated the situation, hated the people who did it to him, but he couldn’t deny how good it actually felt to get attention to that part of his body. He inevitably pressed himself more firmly against the door, both to try and pull unsuccessfully away from that exploring hand, but also to hide the swell of his hardening dick. Not that there was much to hide; it was like some cosmic joke had taken the size away from his manhood to give it to his ass instead.
Still, he always sought to hide the fact that he was actually a boy from the men who decided to feel him up like he was public property. He looked (and felt) plenty feminine from behind, and he was happy to let them think that; he dreaded to think what they would do, what would happen if those men realized they’d been feeling up another male.
So it wasn’t really much of a surprise when Mishima felt yet another hand on his ass.
He stiffened instinctively as it slid over the right side of his thick rear, but while most who decided to use him as a bit of traveling entertainment tended to be satisfied with just a handful, his current ‘companion’ pressed himself firmly up against Mishima from behind, pinning him much more fully against the door’s window.
“H-hey …” Mishima started, wincing inwardly as his voice cracked beneath the undeniably positive powerful sensation of such a firm presence against his backside.
“Hey.” The voice came from surprisingly near Mishima’s ear, shocking him -- but it wasn’t the closeness that truly surprised him, rather than the identity of his newest groper. “Fancy running into you here, Yuuki.”
The voice was undeniable. Sure, he hadn’t spoken much overall in the few months since he had transferred to Shujin, but after what he had done to save Mishima and the rest of the students that Kamoshida was abusing … Mishima had no doubt he would see Akira Kurusu as his savior for the rest of time.
It hadn’t been hard to deduce that Akira (and Sakamoto, and Takamaki) were the ones involved in taking down the corrupt PE teacher, and Akira’s cool, relaxed demeanor only endeared Mishima to him that much more. He was the sort of person that Mishima always dreamed of being: cool, confident, the sort of person who would risk themselves to save those in need. A hero of justice, through and through. Little wonder that Mishima had devoted himself so thoroughly to making and managing the Phan-Site.
So it was that when Mishima realized exactly who it was that was suddenly groping him and pressing up against his thick ass, his protests died on his lips. Where the random, faceless salarymen that had treated him as an object to amuse themselves with had only made him immensely uncomfortable, made him feel violated, knowing that Akira actually noticed him and … seemed, at least, to somewhat like the way Mishima looked …
Well, it was validating as all hell.
“I’d know that thick ass anywhere. You’re really gifted, you know that?” Akira continued, his voice a low rumble into Mishima’s ear, as soon both hands sunk into the vast flesh that was Mishima’s fat ass. The fabric of his pants strained over the fullness of his rear, especially with the added pressure of hands groping and exploring. Akira wasn’t particularly gentle about things, either, considerably rougher and more insistent than even the men who had used him before … yet somehow, Mishima found himself not minding quite as much.
“Yeah? I kinda … hate it …” Mishima mumbled in reply, pressing more firmly against the door, which just caused his lower half to arch firmly out behind him, as though instinctively shoving himself into Akira’s grasp.
“Doesn’t feel like you hate it. Feels like you love this attention.” From anyone else, no, he hated it. But from him … “Look, you’re pushing your ass against me. You want even more, huh?” It was hard for Mishima to reconcile the quiet, shy-seeming, reserved transfer student with the aggressive, confident, demanding Akira that was currently feeling him up. It felt like these were more words than he had ever heard Akira say at once, but knowing that he was the one who could bring out that sort of transformation from the leader of the Phantom Thieves was amazing. Exciting.
Still, he couldn’t just say that. “L-listen … it’s not my fault it’s sensitive, okay?” Mishima protested, his cheeks still scarlet with embarrassment. Fuck, what if someone saw? What if someone saw the way he so obviously liked being treated by another man … and in public, no less?
Wait, did he like this? Was he really going to admit that to himself?
Akira chuckled. “I suppose it isn’t. Fuck, this really is such a perfect ass. I don’t suppose you’ve let anyone claim it yet.” A strangled noise of surprise and embarrassment (and no small amount of arousal) was all Mishima could manage in the moment, but Akira rushed on anyway. “I didn’t think you had. Lucky me, right? You can feel what it does to me.”
Mishima didn’t know what that meant immediately, but the answer rapidly made itself evident: when Akira pushed his own lower body forward to meet Mishima’s rear, he felt the rather substantial bulge of what could only be a big, fat cock.
Growing even bigger and harder with every passing moment.
He had always known intellectually that Akira was a man, and thus obviously had a dick, but it was a different matter to know that and to actually feel it. To know he was arousing another man with his body. With most men, that realization would have disgusted him … wouldn’t it? He never liked being the target of such treatment, such casual usage.
But it was different with Akira. Akira was … special … and apparently extremely gifted, if the way that cock swelled against Mishima’s ass was anything to go by. It felt like Akira matched him in being especially oversized, just in his cock instead. Almost like that big, fat dick was just made for an ass like Mishima’s.
“But it’s -- I’ve never --” Mishima struggled to put words together, even as Akira started to grind himself against the shorter male’s thick cheeks. There were only a few layers of cloth separating them, but he easily felt the size, the girth, the sheer heat that Akira’s dick radiated. “Like, not with a man, it’s not like I’m …”
“Aren’t you? With an ass like this?” Akira gave his right flank a sudden, sharp spank, thankfully drowned out by the train noise; Mishima wasn’t sure his moan of protest and pleasure was drowned out quite as much. “It doesn’t feel like you hate it at all. Hell, you haven’t tried to pull away at all. Your ass wants this dick, doesn’t it?” Mishima’s will crumbled more and more with every word; it was like everything Akira said cut straight to his absolute deepest fantasies. Fantasies he never even admitted to himself. Fantasies of putting that thick ass to proper use. “But I’m not the sort of person who’s going to force you to do something you don’t want to do. Just say no, Yuuki. Tell me to back off, and I will. I’ll never touch your ass again; all you have to do is tell me what you want.”
All he had to do was say no. All he had to do was tell the boy he idolized, the one who had freed him from abuse, the one working so hard to fight for justice for the downtrodden, the one who symbolized all of the best qualities a person could have … the one with such a staggeringly huge cock currently digging into his ass … that he didn’t want this treatment. That he didn’t want Akira’s hands or Akira’s bulge anywhere near him.
He didn’t have to think about it long.
“You don’t … have to stop …” Mishima mumbled.
“Hm? What was that?” Akira obviously heard him; the amusement and excitement in his voice were palpable.
“You can … keep doing it. Touching me. And stuff.” He was fairly confident he would never stop blushing at this rate, but he took a deep breath, focusing enough to actually string a couple sentences together. “I just really want to help the Phantom Thieves, okay? If I can … make you feel good, and maybe relieve your stress, you can focus more on helping people, right?” It kind of made sense, sure. But it was also a blatant rationalization, and Akira picked up on it immediately.
“Sure, sure. And you rocking your hips like that, grinding your fat ass against me, that’s just because you’re such a big fan, right?” Mishima didn’t even realize he was doing it, but knowledge couldn’t stop his body from doing what it pleased. His hands ended up planted against the glass window, his thick rear fully thrust backward against his newfound partner.
Mishima couldn’t quite bring himself to answer, and Akira evidently took that as assent, as the next thing he felt was the unmistakable sensation of his pants being drawn down over the fullness of his ass, exposing his thick cheeks to the world. “H-hey!” he protested. “You can’t do this right here, though!”
“Can’t I? No one’s looking.” That wasn’t true, but Akira didn’t look to confirm either way. A couple people had noticed the closeness of the two high schoolers, but no one moved to stop them. Whether it was out of apathy or out of shared perversion, who knew? It didn’t matter. “I just need to feel more of this amazing ass for myself.” As much as Akira had firmly placed himself in control, he really did seem to adore Mishima’s fat rear; his hands had never left it.
Nor had his cock, which finally felt like it had finished swelling. Fuck, Mishima had no idea cocks could even get that big! Part of him ached to see it for himself … of course, that part of him ached to do much more than see it. Give it the attention it clearly deserved. It was just another sign that Akira Kurusu was just the perfect, ideal male, wasn’t it? Of course he had a big dick, with how amazing he was in every other respect, Mishima thought. Was it the source of his confidence, his charm?
Akira seemed to have other plans in mind for that cock, however. In the space of a moment, Mishima gasped as he felt that wonderfully big dick, bared and thick and hard and throbbing, slap down between the cheeks of his massive ass. Like it was made to fit right there.
“H-hey! Someone’s gonna see …!” Mishima protested, but it was weak. He didn’t actually want to stop, now that they had gone this far. Now that he got to feel Akira’s big fucking dick directly, so amazingly hot and hard, drooling precum already, constantly, from the tip onto Mishima’s soft flesh. It radiated heat against the soft skin of his exposed ass, and he felt a new, unfamiliar twinge deep inside of him: he wanted that cock. He wanted that cock inside of him, and badly .
It was as though his life had built its way up to this point, this moment. This was why he had such a fat ass. This was why he had joined the volleyball team, just to be rescued. It was all so he could offer himself up to Akira Kurusu. Someone was surely going to see, if they hadn’t already; it was hard to hide such gifts as they both possessed. Mishima found himself rapidly failing to care about that, however. Akira was just so confident about it, and Mishima let himself trust in the confident leader of the Phantom Thieves.
“Just … go slow. I haven’t done anything like this -- nngh! ” A sharp noise of mixed pleasure and pain cut off his pleading, as Akira absolutely didn’t go slow. Didn’t wait at all. Before Mishima knew it, that cock slipped down between his cheeks, pressing insistently between to seek out his untouched, virgin asshole … and thrust deep inside. With no preparation and no lubrication beyond Akira’s drooling precum, it should have hurt immensely or at least been much more difficult to manage.
But it wasn’t. Mishima took it like he was born to take it. Like he had been taking cocks of Akira’s caliber for years now. He clenched his teeth, leaning all of his weight against the glass window, shoving his ass backward for Akira’s use. He had never felt as full, as complete as he did in that moment, with that behemoth fuckmeat stretching him out, filling him, pushing deeper and deeper still. Just how fucking huge was it? Was he really determined to go balls deep right away?
“Oh my god, you’re so fucking big!” Mishima moaned, heedless of who might hear. If people were going to see, if people were going to find out he was gleefully taking it from another boy, there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it at this point, so he figured he might as well just let it go and enjoy it as best he could. “You’re s-stretching me out … it feels amazing!” It really did. Pain quickly gave way to a tidal wave of pleasure as inch after inch of fat cock slid inside of him like it was meant to be there.
And the moment that he felt Akira’s fat, cum-swollen balls press against the backs of his thighs, Mishima came. There wasn’t much to it, of course. His own small cock dribbled pitifully into his underwear, while his ass felt like it clutched Akira’s big dick all the more tightly. Milking him. Aching to feel that cock swell and spurt deep inside of him.
But Akira, as always, was on his own schedule. “Cumming already? I had no idea you were so eager to get a cock inside of this fat ass of yours.” Spank! Akira’s hand slapped into the bare expanse of Mishima’s thick ass, making it jiggle and bounce beneath his touch … and making Mishima’s ass clutch him even more tightly. Mishima’s moans were getting louder, more shameless, losing himself more and more into the sensation of being well and truly fucked.
Which was exactly what was happening. Akira didn’t hold back, slamming deep inside of Mishima’s tight, hot asshole again and again, the sound of his hips slapping against Mishima’s fat ass growing all the more noticeable to those around them. Not that either of them cared, of course. A small semicircle of people had begun watching in earnest, but none of them made a move to actually stop them or interfere whatsoever. Almost as if they knew what was happening had to happen.
“So huge … fuck me, fuck me as hard as you want with that big amazing dick!” If this was a way Mishima could truly help the Phantom Thieves, it was the least he could do. Such a big slab of fuckmeat, with such potent, swollen jizz factories easily felt slapping against the backs of his thighs … there was little doubt that Akira’s libido had to be incredibly high, right? Surely he needed a way to vent and release his urges and the cum that built up in those fat nuts.
“That’s right, I will. I’ll fuck you as hard as I want, whenever and wherever I want,” Akira confirmed, his cock throbbing all the harder, precum spilling so deep inside of his new fucktoy. “I’ll call you whenever I need some help, and you’ll offer up this big, juicy ass of yours without hesitation. You’ll go to sleep every night with an ass full of my cum.” Who knew the reserved, quiet transfer student had such filth boiling up inside of him? Maybe it had something to do with why he was a transfer student, Mishima wondered vaguely, but those thoughts -- and most thoughts in general, really -- were for later. They were for a time when he wasn’t getting his ass utterly railed by the biggest, most amazing cock in the world.
“Yes! Yes, sir, of course!” The honorific slipped from his lips without pause. It just seemed better, seemed right to call him such. “Any … anytime. Anywhere. My ass is yours, anytime you want to p-pump it full …!” Mishima fed off of Akira’s dominance, eagerly and willingly submitting to someone he saw as so much fucking better than himself. Everything about him: physically, mentally, personality … everything about him was strictly superior not only to Mishima but to every other person he’d ever met. “Please! Please, cum in me, fill me up!” It was like a switch had been flipped. Gone was the shy, downtrodden Yuuki Mishima that Kamoshida had found such an easy target: now he submitted of his own volition. Now he found someone worthy of claiming him, of treating him how he pleased, and he couldn’t be happier.
Akira just chuckled, but his voice and breathing had grown ragged with an oncoming orgasm, his hips pounding harder than ever. There was no secret any longer; most of the train car knew what was happening, but the two boys were in a world of their own. Especially once Akira crested the hill of orgasm, plunging every last inch of that monster cock into Mishima’s body, as he fucking erupted . Wave after wave, spurt after spurt, cum so fucking thick and potent and so fucking much of it.
Mishima took it as best he could, cumming again where he stood just from being filled with hot, wonderful spunk. Akira’s hot, wonderful spunk. Mishima and his big, fat ass belonged completely to the leader of the Phantom Thieves, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
It felt like it went on for hours, but in reality was just a solid minute or so, before the flow finally ended. Mishima slumped against the train doors as Akira withdrew himself from Mishima’s thick, cum-dripping ass, and gave him a condescending pat on his wobbling, heaving rear. “Not bad. I’m sure you’ll get even better at taking me in the future,” he reassured Mishima. “I appreciate your help and devotion, Yuuki. Be sure to keep helping and supporting the Phantom Thieves.”
Mishima couldn’t do much more than weakly nod, even as the train squealed to its next stop. It was all he could do to just drag his too-small uniform pants back up over his ass before the doors opened and the mutual crush of bodies on either side began, but this time, every touch against his fat butt just reminded him of who he belonged to now.
Time to go work on the Phan-Site, he thought to himself. He had a much more personal stake in the Phantom Thieves’ success now.