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“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“There is no way.”
Kirishima looked in frustration at his disbelieving friends. “No, I swear I can.”
Kaminari shook his head dramatically. “Dude, no way, that’s impossible.”
And that was how Bakugo found them.
He had gone to the gym to blow off steam, work out his frustrations but it really didn’t help when the source of his frustrations was AT the gym as well. Despite the fact that Sero and Kaminari frequently drove him up the wall, for once, Kirishima was the sole focus of his irritation.
Not that Kirishima hadn’t been irritating before, oh god no, he bothered Bakugo near constantly, but last week his irritation had actually started becoming a problem. Namely, one singular problem; Bakugo had just now realized how attractive Kirishima was.
Not that Bakugo hadn’t noticed before, of course he had. It was near impossible for someone to not think Kirishima was attractive. He was the human embodiment of a warm hug after a long day while also being a person who GAVE good hugs after a long day. Not that Bakugo needed them of course. But it suddenly hit him one day that he WANTED them, and especially from Kirishima because god damn those arms.
It had first hit him like a truck in the middle of a rescue mission around 12:30 pm on a perfectly normal Wednesday.
A villain had struck at a nearby bank, structurally weakening the building next door in the same move. They had nearly gotten everyone out before the building started to crumble, but one of the pillars holding the building aloft cracked and tumbled towards the ground before they had finished. The woman below it didn’t see it until it was too late, all she could do was scream as it bore down on her. But Kirishima was there in an instant, body hunched over the woman, hardened in sharp spikes that seemed to slice through the cement as it slammed on top of him.
Bakugo wasn’t worried, his partner had taken much harder hits before, even to the front where his hardening crossed over his chest in smaller fragments. What he was not prepared for was the sudden boner that nearly knocked his knees together as Kirishima stood from the rubble. It didn’t make any sense, he had seen the same sight nearly every day, it’s not like he wasn’t used to seeing him take such a hit. But something about this, right here and right now, Kirishima bending up from the ground, a large slab of concrete falling to the side as he lifted the woman with one thick arm-- the broad expanse of his back rippled with the seeming no effort the motion took.
The only coherent thought Bakugo had for the next solid minute was, “ God I wish that were me. ”
For the next week, at any point in their patrol or even at their own apartment, Bakugo was hit by sudden waves of arousal at inopportune times.
He needed a bag of flour he couldn’t reach from the top shelf? Kirishima snagged it for him easily with his long arms. Snapping at him, Bakugo snatched the flour from him roughly, accidentally covering his torso and free arm, and he used that as an excuse to go take a very cold shower. It was worth it even though the sound of Kirishima’s laugh echoed around him while he did it.
The next day when Kirishima lifted a park bench to help free a trapped dog underneath, Bakugo had to go adjust himself behind a wall so no one would notice his dick pressing through his pants. He was grateful that his hero costume had dark pants because after an embarrassingly short time, his pants were spotted with precum from just watching Kirishima walk .
It took two more days before it happens again but Bakugo turned the corner in the locker rooms after a patrol to see Kirishima’s arms behind his head straining to pull the skin-tight sleeves off of his arms. Kirishima didn’t notice him, but Bakugo was captivated by the swell of his pec’s being pushed together, swelling right in front of him. He wasn’t sure what he said when he stormed off but Kirishima seemed to accept it as normal behavior and didn't comment on it.
It kept going.
Kirishima reaching for an orange at the supermarket, Kirishima adjusting his belt on patrol, Kirishima leaning forward while playing video games-- even Kirishima sneezing for fuck’s sake. Every damn time Bakugo was hit by arousal so strong he was running out of ways to excuse himself before Kirishima noticed or Bakugo climbed all over him with no fucking control. But he wasn’t that far gone yet . He had some impulse control.
After a solid week of Pavlovian responses to seeing Kirishima doing normal fucking things , Bakugo decided he needed an outlet. He had to get out of the apartment more and work out some of this aggression and seemingly extra hormones that were hell bent on torturing him for no reason . He didn’t know what he was eating to cause this shit, but it had officially gone on too long .
And hence, the gym.
Apparently he was just destined to suffer because sitting in his usual spot at the very station Bakugo was looking forward to, was a sweaty, shirtless Kirishima. The only possible reason he didn’t get hard at the sight, was probably because Kaminari and Sero were clustered around him arguing, their base annoyance factor high enough to even deflect his arousal from the slightly panting Kirishima. They hadn’t notice him yet, and he was content to keep it that way. They were having some sort inane argument that he wanted nothing to do with he was pretty damn sure. But his feet took him in the direction anyway.
They still didn’t notice.
Kirishima laughed at some sort of comment and they all looked at his arms, Bakugo unconsciously doing so as well. Kirishima flexed, and the muscle popped into action, rippling under his tanned skin.
He must have made an audible sound because the three turned to look at him. Kirishima brightened instantly but the real surprise was the other two looking excited as well. “Bakugo!” Sero cried. “Perfect, please tell this idiot he’s wrong.”
“You’re wrong,” he said without hesitation.
Sero cackled while Kirishima pouted. “You don’t even know what we’re talking about,” he whined.
Bakugo took a good long look at Kirishima, hair slicked back, chest sweaty, his lower lip out, plump and gleaming. This literally was unfair, why wasn’t he just walking away from this? Someone should give him a damn award right now for even tolerating these fools. “Did I even need to?”
“Um, yeah! This is something super easy but they won’t believe me!” Kirishima exclaimed, slamming his hands to his knees. Bakugo drew his eyes away from the sight with effort, the sound ringing in his ears.
“Easy he says, hah!” Kaminari echoed. “Bakugo, my dear friend, please tell this idiot he can’t bench press an entire person.”
Bakugo’s mind went on temporary shutdown at the mere thought of that action. What he wouldn’t do to see that despite the fact he knew that Kirishima could easily do that. However, he really didn’t want to have to leave without his workout just because of his the irrational jealousy of watching Kirishima bench press one of these idiots instead of getting his hands on him .
All three were still staring at him after he beat his traitorous thoughts back, so he glared back. “Well, why couldn’t he?”
Pumping his fist in the air, Kirishima crowed with excitement. Kaminari looked him skeptically while Sero laughed. “Dude, really?”
“Yeah really.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “But an entire person?”
Snorting, Bakugo took a seat on a nearby station and made extra care to put his sweat rag over his lap. You know, just in case. “Have you seen him in action? He can lift a car up, why couldn’t he lift a person?”
“That’s different!” Kaminari protested. “Even I can jack up a corner of a car.” All three of them gave him skeptical looks and he spluttered. “Okay, so I can’t but most people can!”
Sero looked pensive. “I’ve tried, it’s hard but possible….”
“But?” Kirishima pressed.
He smirked. “But that still doesn’t prove anything.”
Kirishima dramatically fell back against the bench, splayed out and groaning-- and there it was, Bakugo’s #1 problem, the source of his anguish.
At Kirishima’s motion, Bakugo’s dick hardened rapidly and a ringing filled his ears as blood rapidly went south. This was a mistake to engage with this group instead of walking away to go punch the sandbag in the corned until the blood was rushing to his head, not his dick. To his growing disappointment in his decision making process, Bakugo did not get up to leave nor did he look even remotely surprised when Kirishima leaned back up and looked over at him.
“Hey, can I borrow you for a minute? To prove them wrong?”
At this point, Bakugo was accepting his death at the hands of his dick, or more important, his dick at the hands of Kirishima. “No,” he said anyway.
“Please?”
“Will you leave me alone to work out if I do?”
Kirishima grinned, full and gleaming. His eyes looked sharp but his teeth were even sharper. This was not helping at all. “I promise,” he said.
“I don’t,” echoed Sero and Kaminari elbowed him in the side sharply.
“Yes he does,” Kaminari said. When Sero glared at him he shrugged. “I want to see this too.”
With a sigh, Bakugo stood, carefully tucking the end of his towel into the front of his pants enough to cover his boner, hoping he was being subtle, casually moving like he always did. No one mentioned it so he crossed his arms and glared at Kirishima. “Now what?” he asked.
With that same cheery grin, Kirishima reached out and wiggled his fingers towards him like a child in a candy store. Bakugo sighed and stepped closer but stopped when Kirishima held out a hand suddenly, palm to him. “Wait… let me see….” he trailed over, looking over Bakugo’s body carefully. And he kept looking, slow, steady, and if it seemed like he stopped on Bakugo’s crotch longer than normal, it must have been his imagination.
“Okay, come stand over me,” he said eventually.
Bakugo heard Kaminari smother laughter into a cough and Bakugo glared wholeheartedly at Kirishima. Immune to the look by now, Kirishima looked at him like the picture of innocence. “You want me to what?” Bakugo hissed.
Kirishima was not phased. “Hop on, I need to be able to lift you from closer to me.”
“I will murder you,” Bakugo said, stepping closer until he was at the bench, every inch of his body screaming protests despite his blank face. Hop on? Oh, he wanted to take a ride alright, but that was not something he could do and especially not here. Why did he walk closer and not out the door? Fucking hell. He faced away from the eager look shining at him and ignored Kaminari’s dumb laughing face. “Just do it from here.”
“Okay fine, now cross your ankles,” he said. Bakugo followed his instruction, making sure that the towel went between his legs as well, arms still crossed over his chest. Kirishima chuckled. “That’s perfect. Stay just like that.”
“Don’t fucking drop me,” Bakugo threatened.
“I won’t,” Kirishima promised, and laid down, reaching out with one hand to grab at Bakugo’s thigh. The unexpectedly hot touch had Bakugo flinching. Kirishima chuckled again and Bakugo just knew he had that dumb fucking smile on his face still. The hand moved over his leg soothingly as Kirishima said. “Dude, relax.”
Relax? Bakugo couldn’t relax while that hand was stroking such personal and previously untouched expanses of his goddamn skin. It was hard enough feeling it when the hand grasped at his entire thigh that first time, but this? He knew damn well how those hands felt normally but it was much different in the more sensitive skin of his thighs. The tips of Kirishima’s fingers dug into his inner thigh as he then began to lift.
Holy shit.
Kirishima lifted Bakugo with one hand-- albeit briefly-- before leaning Bakugo back mid air to press another hand to his back. It settled there, spreading between his shoulder blades and Bakugo felt all the air in his lungs leave him in a rush.
Holy shit.
He could hear Kaminari make a choked gasp sound as he rose up. Sero on the other hand groaned in disappointment. “Okay, you’d better actually bench press him now because otherwise this is going to be a disappointment for all of us.”
Not for Bakugo it wasn’t.
Kirishima laughed-- he outright let out a full laugh-- not even winded as he replied easily, “I will, just hold on a sec okay.”
Meanwhile, as the actual thing Kirishima was holding up in the air, Bakugo could feel his entire body as if Kaminari had shot him full of lightning and then just let him suffer. He stared blankly at the ceiling in shock. If he wasn’t hard before, he certainly was now. This was a complete and utter mistake-- to get Kirishima’s hands on him while he was already aroused? A good plan in theory, but in execution, now he felt like he was on fire. Being this aroused in front of his friends and an entire gym was a bad, bad idea.
Bakugo was dipped. His whole body lowered, the hem of his shorts fluttering with the descent, then he was lifted back up easily as it if was a piece of cake. He knew Kirishima was strong, he wasn’t kidding when he had said he has seen him lift a car, he really did. But knowing and being the lifted object were two completely different things. Bakugo wasn’t the heaviest person in the world, but he was solid, the most reasonable choice for Kirishima to demonstrate on compared to the lanky Sero and the smaller Kaminari. And yet, Bakugo felt like he weighed nothing to the absolute fucking unit his best friend was.
The realization had arousal burning deep in his gut.
Bakugo went down again, his ringing ears drowning out any comments he might have heard from the other two watching. The hand on his back was steady, warm, and supporting his weight easily. He was lowered lower this time, down enough that Kirishima’s exhale as he pushed back up, fanned over the exposed skin from his shirt going loose around him. It left his skin prickling and he had to draw in a sharp gasp to combat the sudden rush. Unfair .
This by far was the worst Kirishima induced boner yet.
He was a touchy guy! This was something he’d known for years and he definitely got away with it more than any other off Bakugo’s friends. From legs touching when they sat on the subway or on a couch, to patting him on the back and arms slung over shoulders, a chin on his shoulder while he cooked-- he was used to how casually affectionate Kirishima was. Bakugo had tolerated it for years but ever since his dick started jumping every time Kirishima as much as breathed, it obviously made Bakugo more aware of it.
But this? This was another level.
Kirishima noticed immediately, how could he not, his hand was pressed up against his lungs after all. “You okay?” he asked.
“Peachy,” Bakugo managed to say. He cursed the fact that he was the one gasping for breath and not Kirishima, the one doing the actual heavy lifting.
“You sure?” As he asked, his hand tightened around Bakugo’s thigh.
The sudden pressure had his mind spinning. Even though they were in the middle of the gym, in a very public place, Bakugo wished that his hand was higher. He wished that those fingers were sliding deeper into his shorts instead of staying clamped around his leg. He wanted those thick calloused fingers to press into the apex of his thighs, spreading him, touching him. He wanted--
Bakugo had his epiphany approximately five feet in the air. He wanted Kirishima to fucking maul him. He wanted Kirishima to lift him with those arms of steel and never fucking let him go until he couldn’t breathe and his dick was finally dry, balls empty. He wanted far too much that was within decent human boundaries, especially from his best friend.
The realization hit him like a freight truck and Bakugo realized he needed to leave now . The reality of the situation hit him harder than he ever expected, and it was not helping the uncomfortable feeling he had in his very loose pants. He really hoped his dick wouldn’t drip anywhere because that would be about where he drew the line on whether or not he would have to murder everyone in the vicinity.
Kirishima benched him again but as he drew down, Bakugo sat up quickly and scrambled to his feet. To his great shame, he had not been quick enough to avoid the feeling of his ass coming into contact with Kirishima’s unsuspecting nose, or the trailing of fingers leaving his sweaty skin. His grunt of surprise Kirishima made at his sudden movement had his knees weak. “Okay I’m done,” Bakugo spat hurriedly, and stalked off.
That was way too close. The new movement had his dick chafing in his pants and Bakugo needed to get home now .
He didn’t look back as he stormed out but he heard Kaminari say in the dumbest, swarmiest voice ever, “ Wrow. ”
Bakugo resisted the urge to turn back and murder him.
He didn’t even think of just riding it out in the shower of the gym until he was on the train on the way home already. He did not think this entire day through, his entire brain was mush. Bakugo felt like he was melting, his skin on fire after being touched like that. So firm and warm, he forgot just how large Kirishima’s hands were until they were up close and personal and all over him. Well, not all over him, that was just for him to wish because goddamn he was pretty sure he would bust a nut if Kirishima came up and touched him now, let alone ghosting over the places he needed him most.
The memory of the clenching fingers on his thighs had him clenching his legs together as if the pressure would erase the feeling.
Spoiler alert, it did not, it only had him aching for more.
Oh boy did he want it. Even here, on his train, in public where everyone could see, Bakugo wanted this hands all over him. If he had less decency and Kirishima full attention, he wasn’t sure what he’d do in order to get off. The very idea of Kirishima standing in from of him, eyes dark and breath hot on the side of his neck from when he would arch closer and hand himself over for attention. The very thought of it made him mortified.
And yet….
The spot on his back where Kirishima’s had had been felt like it was burned into his skin’s memory. There had been so much pressure there, it felt like his hand had reached into Bakugo’s chest and just manhandled his heart. His whole body ached for attention and the rattling of the train along the tracks, subtle as it was, just added another layer of itch to Bakugo’s arousal.
This was bullshit . So he was turned on by the sight of Kirishima throwing his strength around like he was some sort of god but I mean, that’s normal right? Kirishima did have a ridiculous amount of strength and Bakugo was no weakling himself. It used to irk him how much better he was at it, stronger than he could catch up to. He had learned to accept it, he was much better at many other things, he could let Kirishima have brute strength but now seeing the sweet grinning Kirishima barely phased while he lifted someone up after a hard battle with ease, had Bakugo weak.
He’d wanted Kirishima to lift him and now he had. It was more arousing than he had expected. How was he going to face him after this one? If he had been found out, Kaminari would never let him live this down. With any hope they’d chalk his storming out to “normal Bakugo behavior” that they loved to tease him about when instead he was thinking about getting split in half by Kirishima’s dick.
Bakugo own dick gave a weak twitch and his pants got even more uncomfortably moist.
Great, what a fucking traitor.
Five more stops left Bakugo riled up, his brain on a repeating loop of “ hands hands hands dick hands touch my cock hands teeth hands bite crush me ” and other such mortifying things that he tried hard not to think about before the doors opened with a whoosh, and Bakugo near sprinted from the station. The air rushing past him made him aware of what a fucking mess he was, his inner thighs sticking together uncomfortably in his shorts. Fucking ridiculous, his dick needed to CHILL THE FUCK OUT .
He stormed up the stairs, unlocked the door of their apartment and slammed it shut. He leaned on the wall, panting, his hand diving into his pants with a groan. His pants drenched were with the extra precum his body for some reason was so fond of producing. It made masturbating easier but it sure as hell made his laundry loads a lot more frequent and even now it made him very glad to be out of the public eye.
But now that didn’t matter, it was already far too late to worry about his fucking laundry. His hand slicked across his cock, the glide feeling euphoric after so long of waiting. With his other hand, he shoved his pants to the floor, stepping out of them all the while fisting himself.
This fucking sucked, and not in the good way. Bakugo glared the head of his red, angry looking dick peeking out from inside his hand. “This is your fucking fault,” he accused. It, of course, did not respond. He let it go with a growl, and stormed off to his room, throwing his shirt off against the wall. As he passed Kirishima’s closed door, he kicked it angrily. “This is your fault!”
He continued down the hallway, kicking his door to close behind him and sitting on the bed. As he took off his shoes, Bakugo looked up and right in his line of view was a water bottle he had borrowed earlier, Red Riot in costume stretched across it. He threw his shoe at it. “Fucking Kirishima, fucking being big n’ shit,” he grumbled, reaching down to grab his cock again. The bottle rolled on the floor, turning in just the right direction that Red Riot was looking straight at Bakugo, fists together and a wide, sharp grin stretched across his face. It was taunting him.
Bakugo closed his eyes to get away from it. “ Fucking Kirishima...” he whispered. The gaze of the enameled sticker was making him stupidly hot. It wasn’t the same, but with just enough imagination, it was like Kirishima himself was watching him.
In Bakugo’s imagination, he would stare, a blush bright red across his face before that stupid fucking grin that Bakugo may or may not love would stretch across his face. He’d make some sort of joke, and maybe he’d bite his lip with his teeth, looking at Bakugo in shock before his peppy attitude would surface, eager at the show Bakugo was putting on. He groaned, stroking himself faster. Lube, should he get lube? Did it even matter, he was already so wet already.
Kirishima would like that, he thought. He’d be intrigued by Bakugo’s slick leaking, making a joke about wet he was and Bakugo would get his hands on him to maybe strange him. Possibly. Depending on if Kirishima put that mouth of his to good use instead of making the dumb jokes Bakugo had come to accept was part of the package. But he would, he would be so good, licking up all of his fluids to clean him up good and marking up Bakugo, marking him up with his fucking hands, grabbing him and pushing him down hard enough to leave bruises he could find into the next week. They would be satisfying as hell.
The very thought had his skin prickling, heat spreading, his hand speeding up. He jerked harder, imagining Kirishima’s hand, rough around him, the other pushing him down, flat onto the bed. Falling, Bakugo lost himself in his imagination, imaging the heavy warm weight of Kirishima pinning him to the bed as he jerked him off. He wouldn’t be able to move, he’d be helpless at his hands, at his mercy. Too fucking strong . Strong and big and looking at him with such soft puppy-dog eyes that would see right through him to make him--
A wave of pure electric arousal shot through him and he gasped, eyes flying open. He was close now, he could feel it. The heavy weight was coiling inside of him, his lungs gasping for air.
Red flashed in the corner of his eye and the color had him pushing up into his own fist he moaned out the name of his tormentor.
“ Kirishima.”
His hallucination knocked over something at his words and Bakugo snapped his gaze over, suddenly alert. The red, hot coil in his gut was burning, aching, but as Bakugo made eye contact with a very red and gaping Kirishima, it snapped. Bakugo let his head fall back against the bed as he shook, moaning loudly, hand moving furiously as he covered himself in his own release. His mind swirled, his orgasm milking him dry of any real sensible thoughts.
His vision of Kirishima wasn’t actually the real thing, but it had done the job good enough, that was one of the best orgasms he had had all week, all month. The very idea of Kirishima watching him jack off to his name was the best fantasy he could have conjured. Scratch that, no it wasn’t, but it was still a good fucking idea. Why hadn’t he used it before?
Blissed out, Bakugo released himself and sighed. Was this the way he wanted his afternoon to go? No. Was he going to go back to the gym and have to face Kirishima like this? Hell no. But he should at least pick up his nasty ass clothes from the hallway before Kirishima came back and saw them.
He didn’t know when that gym rat would be coming home, especially if he was with idiot #1 and idiot #2. There was no real good way to explain his absolute mess if they did though. Once he at least picked that up, then he could nap through his afterglow and everything would be fine, he’d be more relaxed and collected by Kirishima’s return to hopefully avoid popping a boner for the rest of the afternoon.
With a last stretch, Bakugo hauled himself to a sitting position and made eye contact with Kirishima.
Wait what?
Bakugo blinked, but the apparition didn’t disappear. Huh, that was new. Just like he imagined, this version of Kirishima just stood there, red everywhere, mouth hanging open as he stared him. But unlike how he had imagined, his eyes were hungry, looking like for every intent and purpose, ready to devour him. It was a very good look and Bakugo mentally patted himself on the back for such an idea, he’ll use that one for sure next time.
Then he looked down past the bulge in Kirishima’s sweatpants and noticed Bakugo’s discarded shorts were clenched in his fist. Why would his brain have imaged that? That shit’s nasty, don’t pick that up, no.
“Bakugo,” Kirishima said softly, his voice hinging on rasping. He could feel the post-orgasm sensitivity setting in and it felt delightful, the hairs of his arms raising up on end. The vision took a step forward, haltingly, and then another. Bakugo did nothing but yawn as he watched him approach.
“What do you want shitstain? Go disappear I need to sleep,” he grumbled. Great, now he was talking to it, he supposed it was that kind of day now wasn’t it...
He rubbed his eye with the hand was wasn’t covered in his own cum and when he opened them, the Kirishima double was standing right in front of him. He craned his head to look up at it from his spot on the bed then sighed, looking back down at the knocked over water bottle again. “What the fuck,” Kirishima whispered. “I didn’t know it worked this well…”
“You aren’t making sense, scram. Gotta clean this bullshit up before the ‘actual you’ comes back from the fucking gym.”
A hand grabbed his face roughly, forcing him to look back up. Okay what? The fuck? Since when did his imagination feel this real ? Maybe he fell asleep and this whole day was a dream? Bakugo thought back to his intense orgasm and was pretty sure there was no way he imagined all of that and was still asleep. He fought against the movement sluggishly, but no matter what he couldn’t yank his head away. His palm crackled in anger but the hand around his face hardened, scraping his skin, the sensation sending shot pure arousal down his system again.
Okay, so maybe this wasn’t a dream.
But that would mean…..
The realization had Bakugo turning bright red as he stiffened in mortification. It was his turn to gape this time, mouth dropping open as he stared with increasing horror at the very real Kirishima standing in front of him.
While he was naked.
After he just orgasmed with Kirishima’s name on his lips.
While Kirishima watched.
Fury lit his palms ablaze but Kirishima just chuckled. He slid a thumb into Bakugo mouth, pressing down on his tongue and hardening it when Bakugo bit down angrily. “Do you always look so good every time you cum or was that part of the show?” Bakugo growled, his reply muffled by the thumb in his mouth. Kirishima only pressed harder, unconsciously opening Bakugo’s mouth even wider. “That’s unfair, you should have been screamed my name weeks ago.”
What the fuck.
Seeing the fury in his eyes, Kirishima let Bakugo’s mouth free for a moment. “What the fuck does that mean? Huh?” Bakugo shouted, his arms were shaking in anger, but his legs were still putty from his orgasm. Kicking a rock hard leg seemed like a bad fucking idea but he fumbled into it to no effect. Kirishima still hadn’t let go of him and Bakugo hated that the sensitivity in his body still craved his touch of the rough quirk. “Just get out and stop making fun of me.”
“Making fun of you?” Kirishima’s cool demeanor cracked for a second, and the worrying side came through. “I wouldn’t make fun of you dude.”
“Then let me go and let me have some dignity.”
“Dignity?” The dark look was back, his mouth curving into a smile but this time there was no teeth. He looked intimidating like this, towering over Bakugo with his already superior height but the radiating confidence was new. It was really fucking hot. Also really fucking frustrating. “You just stormed off after getting hot and bothered by me touching you in public, and barely made it in the door. You threw your clothes off and barely made it a few minutes before you came imagining me there with you. How could I leave you after something like this?”
A shudder went through him and Bakugo knew that Kirishima felt it.
“I’m not stupid Bakugo, I know. I know about your little ‘secret’.” Bakugo’s veins were trying to become Todoroki and be half fire and half ice at the same time. It was beginning to hurt in a not pleasant way. Fuck fuck fuck fuck F U C K. “I can’t believe I held back this long.” A thumb stroked Bakugo’s lips softly, the feeling tingling. “I didn’t want to be too obvious, but like, I’ve been trying to wind you up for months.
He what?
Kirishima looked borderline concerned but the edge of his mouth were curving higher and higher as he spoke. “You aren’t subtle you know. It took me longer than I’d like to admit to catch on, but the past month of watching you get so horny around me has been a delight.”
Bakugo glared at him furiously. “It’s only been a week!” he snapped, then felt shame smack him across the face. Don’t admit your weakness like that, let him think better of you not some desperate horn dog who…. was arousing him on purpose the.. whole time…
“It looks like it worked better than I could have ever dreamed.”
This grin had teeth, and Bakugo was overwhelmed with the desire to both punch his teeth out and run his tongue along them at the same time. “Are you going to do something about it then?” he snapped back in retaliation. The hand on his face tightened at that and he had to bite back a gasp.
“Only if you want me too.”
What a fucking gentleman Bakugo thought bitterly. Too nice even while he’s kinkshaming, no wonder Bakugo never got any action, Mr. Nice Guy over here was too afraid to take a risk involving any sort of confrontation. He batted the hand away from his face and it surprisingly went without any trouble. Getting to his feet, Bakugo glared up at Kirishima. Neither of them moved but Bakugo could feel the heat radiating off of Kirishima, could see the sweat glistening on his collarbone, could smell his own cum from where it was attempting to dry on him.
If he wanted to, Bakugo knew he could walk away now and take a shower, clean up, and Kirishima would pretend nothing happened as they chatted over dinner that night. But on the other hand, from what he could tell, Kirishima was way more on board with this than he had thought. He knew? All this time? And he was what, just egging him on? The realization made him pissed off and turned on in a violent whiplash.
“Fuck this,” Bakugo growled, and yanked Kirishima’s head down to him, biting angrily at his lips.
Once that point of contact had been made, Kirishima finally touched him. This was enough of an answer for him apparently because Kirishima grabbed him like his life depended on it, his hands grappling with the sweaty muscles. One hand wrapped solid around his waist, the palm on his side nearly wrapping his fingers around to his back. It felt amazing and Bakugo groaned into their kiss. It only spurred Kirishima on more, dropping Bakugo’s soiled shorts to the ground to reach around to Bakugo’s ass and haul him closer.
Bakugo felt like he was drowning in lava, Kirishima’s heat burning his skin wherever he touched. Kirishima’s hand kneaded his ass in one hand and Bakugo parted his legs for him, cock stirring back to life against his leg. He forced his other leg between Kirishima’s and it was like sticking his leg into an oven, tight and warm all around him. He clutched harder, nails digging into Kirishima’s shoulders when the fingers he’d been eyeing all week dug into the inner cleft of his ass. He moaned at that, mouth going limp against Kirishima’s as the feeling shot through him. Oh fuck yeah, that felt so good.
Those thick roughened fingers pulled harder, rutting Bakugo against Kirishima’s own straining cock, hand diving to rub at Bakugo’s entrance. As the tip of his finger prodded into it slightly, Bakugo chased it, startled by how good it felt. The finger slid away at the movement and Kirishima chuckled. “Patience Bakugo.”
“I’m done waiting,” he growled, pushing closer. He pulled at Kirishima’s shirt. “Off. Now.”
“ Patience ,” Kirishima said again, and his hand returned to press down harder. Bakugo prided himself in the glare he was maintaining in such a situation.
“ Off now ,” he repeated, before diving back in to smash his mouth to Kirishima’s. It swallowed whatever protest Kirishima might have tried to give, the words dying before they even made it to the air. He kissed like he was devouring him, and to be fair, Bakugo wanted to. He’d been dreaming of this for a whole week, being tormented by the impossibility. Now that it was happening, Bakugo wanted to make sure Kirishima knew just who was in charge here. That’s just how all things went with him and they both knew it.
Kirishima pushed him backwards and off of him, his mouth red from Bakugo’s frantic kisses. He pulled off his shirt in one go, his blown out eyes never leaving Bakugo before drawing him back in roughly. He didn’t hold back, his hands were determined to explore every inch of Bakugo’s exposed skin. The only thing Bakugo could think was “ fucking finally ”, before he was back to exploring on his own.
Under his hands, Kirishima’s muscles didn’t seem any different his arms were thick and strong, swollen under his wandering hands from his recent workout. His back was broad, like it always fucking was but Bakugo dug his fingernails along his shoulder blades all the same. The expanse of his back, however, felt even larger, Bakugo couldn’t even reach all of it, desperately feeling around blindly as he forced his tongue past his teeth to lap at the top of Kirishima mouth. It was smooth, and tasted like the blue raspberry workout of drink Bakugo hated. He didn’t mind it now.
By the time Bakugo had remembered to leave his back and his hands make it down to Kirishima’s pants, Kirishima had done the same.
At the slightest lift, Bakugo’s feet left the ground as Kirishima’s hand dug deeper and Bakugo was surprised by the broken sound that escaped his mouth. Wasting no time, Kirishima’s hands got themself comfortable on Bakugo’s hips, one constantly moving in between them, and Bakugo found himself straddling Kirishima’s thigh.
“ Oh my god, ” Kirishima groaned above him, his hand going even harder, pressing down on Bakugo’s taint, gathering the moisture left behind. “How do you even make those sounds?” Kirishima’s fingers pressed up, making wet noises against him. It sounded just like it did normally but it wasn’t his hand, it was Kirishima’s, and the mere concept of it all, Bakugo couldn’t reply with anything but a whine.
He gathered his thought enough to make his demands. “Get the lube,” Bakugo said hoarsely and choked back another garbled noise as Kirishima’s finger slid back, significantly wetter, and popped the tip into his waiting asshole.
“I think we’re good,” Kirishima said breathily. It shivered its way down Bakugo’s neck and ear and he felt his skin catch on fire. This new side of Kirishima was way hotter than normal Kirishima and that fool already was too much for Bakugo to handle.
Torn between the pleasure of pressing back onto the finger rubbing at the ring of his asshole, and pulling away from the sheer what the fuck of having a finger in his asshole, Bakugo instead reached behind him to grab Kirishima’s hand. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, stopping the fingers from moving.
“Prepping you,” Kirishima said smoothly. “You’re going to need it.” At Bakugo’s alarmed expression, concern flicked across his face. He removed the tip and settled his hand back on Bakugo’s hip with the other, holding his body steady on his leg. “You didn’t mind a second ago,” he pointed out.
“I was surprised.”
“Surprised by how good it felt?”
“No, surprised a finger was going up my ass you ass!”
Kishima shifted looking rather uncomfortable. “I’ve been dying to fuck you for ages, but if you aren’t okay with it, I guess we can try something else?” To emphasize his statement, he moved Bakugo to grind him down on his thigh.
It felt heavenly, exactly what his worn nerves craved and Bakugo knew he could get off like that easily. But something Kirishima had said irked him. “Wait, you’ve wanted to fuck me for ages and you’re just now trying?”
“I mean, you’re so prickly, I wasn’t sure. So that’s why I did the muscle thing you know, to see if it worked? I thought it was and when I walked in I was pretty sure, but then seeing you spread out and moaning my name had me almost completely positive. But now you don’t even seem like you want it, so I’ll figure we can work something else out? Did you want to fuck me instead?”
Bakugo was pretty sure he was going to lose his shit if Kirishima didn’t keep going. Penetration was one specific thing Bakugo had never explored with in his rather active sexual fantasies. There was no point, no one was going to stick anything up his ass if he had anything to say about it. He would be the one on top, he would be the “fucker” not the “fuckee”. Or however people talked about it, hell if he knew.
But now he was re considering that in a very violent flash of frustration. He’d always been the one to top but if Kirishima was going to back down just because he was inexperienced, he had another thing coming. “Man up!” he said smacking Kirishima’s chest with a bare palm. “Are you kidding? You’re letting something like this stop you?”
“You mean wanting consent and comfort for my partner? Then yeah, that’s what I let stop me.”
Bakugo slapped him again. “If I let anyone in my ass it’s going to be you!” he said firmly without really thinking about his words. They caught up to him a moment later of course, and it only served as more reason that Bakugo didn’t have time or thought to shove his foot in his mouth when Kirishima should be shoving his cock into something. He paused, horrified before stammering, “I--I mean I jus--”
“You want me in your ass?” Kirishima said slowly. His face was scrunched up in a mixture of disbelief and something Bakugo couldn’t find a name for.
His voice had dropped again Bakugo realized as his skin prickled in pleasure. He liked that. “I mean, yeah. Fucking thought about it all day. If you’d just hurry up and--”
He was cut off by Kirishima spinning around, and slamming him against the wall, the power behind the movement shaking the the frame next to them with a boom. Holy fuck that was way better than he could have ever imagined. Determinedly pushing back into him, Bakugo arched his back as Kirishima’s hand reached back down and straight to his hole. His fingers teased the entrance, and it fluttered erratically at the touch. “Are you sure?” Kirishima asked.
In response, Bakugo bucked back into the fingers and grabbed Kirishima’s neck to pull him down to his waiting mouth. Taking that as a yes, Kirishima slowly worked a finger into Bakugo. It felt fucking weird , nothing should be up his ass at all, nothing should have that kind of power. He must have said something because Kirishima immediately switched to grind Bakugo back up against him. The texture of Kirishima’s pants against his re hardening cock just amplified the prickling pleasure he was feeling. It engulfed his nerves in a blanket of satisfied sparks that the finger up his ass didn’t bother him as much anymore. Somehow.
After a few minutes, a second finger came pressing down and that one burned. He hissed against Kirishima’s mouth and the other man hummed, slowing down his pace inside Bakugo. “Okay, we we may need that lube after all.”
“No shit, what did you think we were going to use? Spit?”
Kirishima nosed his way up to Bakugo’s ear. He nipped at it lightly as he pressed Bakugo further into the wall. “I was going to fuck you on your own cum.”
Bakugo managed a garbled, “What the fuck,” before Kirishima continued, his hands never stilling as they continued to move.
“You were so relaxed and waiting for me I wanted to take you right them and there. I didn’t know your cock could could produce that amount of cum, damn Bakugo. You just looked so good. So good .” His hand slid out of his ass to reach further forward. With a huff, Bakugo was hoisted higher up, no longer on Kirishima’s thigh and instead around his waist. “Was going to tease you, finger fuck you until you couldn’t breathe, sloppy around my fingers. Wanted to make you scream.” With this new angle, Kirishima lifted Bakugo’s leg to his waist, and reached around, taking Bakugo in his hand. He missed at first, but even the brushing of his knuckles against his slick cock was enough to make Bakugo buck up into Kirishima. “Fuck, hold still.”
“Work harder,” growled Bakugo in return.
Kirishima gave his neck a nip, just a taste of his sharp teeth. “ Hold still ,” he demanded and Bakugo continued to ignore him.
“Make me,” he said, and the hand literally holding him up squeezed, hard, while the other fisted his cock properly. Bakugo stilled in his arms with a gasp, the pleasure too sudden, too sharp.
Kirishima pumped him with a firm grip, Bakugo leaking enough to dribble over his knuckles. “ Good boy ,” he whispered into Bakugo’s neck and Bakugo bit back a snappy response in favor of a low moan. This was what he fucking wanted anyway, he didn’t need to push Kirishima anymore than he already was. Although it had lead to him finally touching him bu--
Kirishima’s hand moved, and two wet fingers were back in his ass, easing in. Bakugo tightened up immediately, this was not a good feeling. This is exactly why things were not mean to go into assholes, things came out , not in, what the fuck.
“Lube?” Kirishima asked again between bites over Bakugo’s jaw. The scraping of teeth over his skin and the fingers in his ass fried Bakugo’s brain enough to make things a little hard to follow. What had he even asked? Why did-- oh right.
He unclenched his right hand from the bicep he was grabbing for dear life and pointed to the other side of the room. “Second drawer. Lemme ge--” He tried to get down but lurched as Kirishima pulled back from the wall, bringing Bakugo with him. The leg that had been trying to maintain contact with the ground was firmly taken out of reach as Kirishima carried Bakugo across the room.
It wasn’t a far distance but with every step he took, Kirishima’s fingers bounced deeper inside of him. It was fucking rough, but the glide from his own fluids made it tolerable. Well shit, Kirishima might be onto something, anal was hot as hell so far. It was entirely possible it was just proximity to Kirishima himself making him burn to the core like this, knowing it was him inside of him.
Using one foot to hook on the the underside of the drawer, Kirishima pulled it open. Then he bent, grabbing the tube of lube. The motion had his fingers curling inside of Bakugo and he choked on a gasp, this newer feeling of actually liking the pressure taking him by surprise. " Shit ,” he gasped, and chased the feeling, pushing down his hand deeper. “Do that again.”
Kirishima obliged him as he stood, pulling his fingers out and slowly pushing them back, curling them and spreading the narrow passage. That elicited a keening response from Bakugo so he kept going, propping his knee up on the bed for Bakugo to straddle while he flipped open the lid of the lube. Bakugo didn’t wait that long, grinding himself down on Kirishima thigh. He wished it was skin on skin but would take what he could get. The fabric of Kirishima’s pants grew darker under his shaky gaze-- shit he was still so wet.
He didn’t have long to wait before there was lube drizzled down the fingers, and a third joined them. It stung a bit, and it felt a little like taking a really good shit. That was disgusting but the only real comparison Bakugo could think to make with his limited experience. He gritted his teeth at the thought angrily but it too loosened as the sharp feeling of pleasure came back and he had to pant against Kirishima. Kirishima leaned forward, hooking his chin over Bakugo’s shoulder to watch his fingers move, forcing Bakugo to crane his back to fit between his arms.
He hissed, “Watch it!” but Kirishima ignored him, pumping his fingers methodically. The new angle had him pushing his fingers deeper, and deeper, and Bakugo found himself choking over his breaths as he clawed at Kirishima’s arms. “Hey.” The pressure inside of him was coiling up again and his nails dug into the arms around him. “H-hey…”
Kirishima hummed as he slid a hand up his side, Bakugo curving into the touch with a whine. “Yes?”
“Hurry the fuck up,” Bakugo said. At this point, he was fit to burst, and so soon after he had just had his brain blown out. His rebound rate was impressive if he did say so himself.
“Hurry what up?”
“Fuck you,” Bakugo snarled. His hand crawled up to grab at Kirishima’s hair and yanked him into his own view. He glared and Kirishima’s smile didn’t move, eyes intent on his own.
They stared right at him, far from innocent as this lil bitch was pretending to be. “I’m sorry, fuck who?” he asked, voice teasing as he scissored his fingers together and Bakugo jolted, feeling tears sear his waterline. “Who’s getting fucked?”
“Fuck you,” Bakugo repeated, hating the whining tone his voice had taken on.
Blinking with wide eyes, Kirishima had the nerve to pout. “I’m sorry, what?”
This time as he teased, Bakugo felt his air leave in an exhale, vision blurring. “Fu-- Oh, just fuck me you dumb rock!”
Kirishima’s smile turned toothy and the creases around his eyes deepened. He leaned forward, nuzzling Bakugo’s neck, removing his hand to pull down his own pants. The fell to the floor without a sound and Bakugo was lifted higher without hesitation. He was looking down at Kirishima now, above his eyeline and smirked, ignoring the tear that fell from his eye to mix with his sweat.
From this height he realized how far he was from the floor now, and just how much of him wasn’t even touching it. He was completely off the ground, and judging by the hand in his ass, and the fact he could see Kirishima lubing up his own dick, Kirishima was holding his entire body aloft with one arm.
Holy shit.
He clenched tighter, yanking a fist of Kirishima’s hair that the onslaught of sheer pleasure that hit him like a truck at that thought. With one hand, Kirishima was carrying him. ONE HAND .
“You sound good like this,” Kirishima murmured and Bakugo bit his ear. “So needy.”
“Shut up.”
“It was a compliment,” Kirishima said, removing his fingers. “Just--” he lined his dick up, “--take it,” and pushed inside.
This time, Bakugo screamed.
There was no way he was prepared for the sheer thickness of Kirishima. It didn’t hurt like what he expected, it felt good . It burned in a way he was familiar with, the white hot pleasure that came with fighting with his quirk. That was a good feeling yeah, but he had never associated it with the extreme pleasure he was feeling now. It was all he could do not to come right then and there, and he could feel Kirishima’s dick throbbing inside of his ass.
He clutched back hungrily, and it was Kirishima’s time to groan. It rumbled through his chest and Bakugo chased it, his hand clenched around one pec, the other directing Kirishima's mouth back to his own. The heat was familiar, the heat was something he craved. He ground back on Kirishima’s cock eagerly, chasing that heat. His fingers shook, overwhelmed, desperate as he fought to keep himself together.
And then Kirishima moved and Bakugo saw stars.
He didn’t bother with stopping the debauched moan that came out of his mouth because hot damn that was amazing, do it again . And Kirishima did, repeatedly, bringing Bakugo higher and higher. He used one arm to pull Bakugo nearly off his cock, only to slam him back down.
Holy fuck.
“Holy fuck,” echoed Kirishima aloud in his ear. His voice for the first time all day was out of breath, like this was actually some sort of challenge for him instead of the careless effort it looked like. “You feel so amazing, so tight.”
Bakugo wanted to respond, but his mouth couldn’t form the words, only making a litany of sounds. Kirishima seemed to understand, and just kept going, murmurs of praise falling from his lips easily, the words coming faster and faster the longer they were blurred together. Bakugo’s mind was a haze of pleasure, the burning coil inside of him impossibly tight. Bakugo reached down to his own cock but Kirishima stopped him. “No, not yet,” he said.
Growling, Bakugo fought against the hands but there really no use, Kirishima was ridiculously stronger than him. His arm was wrenched back, held out behind him so he reached with his other hand to grab at it. “Stop that,” he grunted.
Kirishima did not stop. “Don’t touch yourself and I will.” He pulled back just enough to look into Bakugo’s eyes and see the simmering refusal there. He sighed, like Bakugo had greatly inconvenienced him, and let go.
Bakugo reached back down mollified, but was surprised when Kirishima propped his leg up on the mattress quickly so he could use both hands to grab Bakugo’s own, and force them behind his back. “Just let me finish you fucking statue.”
“Oh? Now I’m a statue?” Kirishima asked amused, his fingers an iron grip on Bakugo’s wrists, holding them together with one hand. Bakugo’s lower back burned from the new position, but as Kirishima resumed his fucking at a slower pace, he ignored it. “Am I a pretty one?”
“Yeah,” he ground out. He realized dizzily that the leg was gone, Kirishima was one handedly fucking him again. The pounding of his ass against Kirishima’s own skin was the only thing echoing in the air. “A fucking Adonis that needs to -- aah-- fucking touch my cock.”
“Maybe later,” Kirishima replied. His voice was getting breathier, more air passing out from between his lips as he moved. He grunted with the next thrust, burying himself even deeper. The sudden urge to violently wring an orgasm out of Kirishima filled Bakugo, that bastard would go first if he had anything to say about it even as he himself shook with pleasure.
He wrapped his legs around Kirishima’s waist where they had been loosely hanging, and tightened his grip, locking his ankles together. It sent Kirishima down to the base and he grunted. Excellent. Kirishima’s hand that supported his waist doubled down, and Bakugo found his arms yanked, curving backwards, Kirishima fucking him impossibly harder, deeper. The tears blurred his vision, spilling down his face freely as Kirishima hit his prostate. “More, Kirishi mmmmm-aaa! Fuck. Oh m- g-godddd. Faster!”
That spurred Kirishima on, a guttural growl wrenching through him as he guided his cock out with a pop to slap into Bakugo’s own. Bakugo made a pitiful whining sound, his ass felt so empty now, clenching around nothing and that was utterly unacceptable. Kirishima grabbed them both with one hand, freeing Bakugo’s arms. Not like Bakugo could do much with them, it was all he could do to reach up and cling to Kirishima’s biceps as he shook like a leaf.
“ Kirishima please!” Bakugo sobbed, frantically humping into Kirishima’s hand. Their cocks squelched together in Kirishima’s fist.
It didn’t take long after that for Kirishima to come, slicking their bodies with his release. Bakugo’s mind was blank, chasing the white hot pleasure that was choking the air out of his lungs. Soon, soon, he thought, he was going to die if he didn’t come soon.
He was only vaguely aware of the words spilling out of his mouth, he couldn’t even hear anything, all he could was the drumming of his heart and the ringing of his ears. Somewhere in the frantic motions of his hips, the hand encompassed him only, wrapping around him, sucking him up. It was so hot, so good, the thick liquid of Kirishima’s own cum covering him completely. Kirishima’s cum, his own fucking release, all of him, because of him.
Bakugo came with a garbled shout.
The hand didn’t leave, slowly pumping him as his nerves combusted. The slide of so much liquid over his abdomen and overstimulated cock felt so good it was painful. And the abruptly, it was too painful. He whined, clawing at Kirishima’s shoulders, resorting to small explosions to get across the words his mouth was too numb to form. Kirishima understood, he’d always been good at that, and slowed, releasing his cock to flop against his own to palm upwards, spreading come across his chest. That felt way too fucking good.
Leaning heavily into his neck, Bakugo relished in Kirishima’s shoulders shaking under his palms. He watched them dazedly, feeling the tremors through every inch of his oversensitized body. And here he was thinking his earlier orgasm was the best he had, this one blew that out of the water. It was almost as if Kirishima was some sort of orgasm related catalyst, but Bakugo had figured that out already, it was pretty obvious at this point. How had he gotten so fucking good at that?
Kirishima stood still once he’d finished his slick massage, breathing heavily over Bakugo’s own shoulder until he slowly lowered Bakugo to the ground, his legs shakily touching the ground. Without even raising his head, Kirishima toppled them both over, landing with a thump to sprawl on the bed.
The surprise and weight of Kirishima on top of him knocked the air out of Bakugo’s lungs. “Hey!” he wheezed, pulling at Kirishima’s hair lightly. It did nothing but encourage Kirishima to snuggle closer. He hummed contented against Bakugo’s skin. “You’re heavy get off,” he tried again.
“Don’t wanna.”
Sighing, Bakugo tried to push him off by the shoulders. “You’re gross, get off,” he said, his efforts waylaid by the way he could tell his heart was thumping in his chest. He’d never had someone want to be this close to him before and he was well aware that after sex you did not have to cuddle. Of course Kirishima would want to though and Bakugo was warming up the the concept.
“I just did,” Kirishima said smugly. Bakugo smacked him and he tightened his arms harder in a squeeze and Bakugo felt his back crack with a faint sound. “Oops…”
“You’re too strong to do that, haven’t you done enough to my back today you asshole?” he snapped.
That got Kirishima’s attention, and he slowly let go, only rolling far enough away to not be on top of Bakugo anymore. His face was pressed into the cool sheets of the bed only inches from Bakugo’s face and he sighed. Then Kirishima turned to face him and Bakugo felt like he had been body slammed again. After the dominating and rough version of Kirishima that had just slammed his ass to kingdom come, he snapped right back into the goofy idiot he’s always know.
Bakugo couldn’t breathe in the face of the pure, unfiltered affection that was beaming straight to him. Hooded eyes that no longer wanted to devour him, but instead looked at him reverently, a small smile hooking the edge of his swollen lips. It was painfully beautiful. He was beautiful. Kirishima noticed his vacant expression, and his smile grew larger, but soft, content. “Hey,” he said quietly.
Bakugo couldn’t find the words to respond, his mouth felt useless, his chest drowning. “Hey,” he said after a moment, and immediately felt stupid. Hey? How many times had they just exchanged “hey” during this whole thing? What they fuck were they doing, greeting each other at the mailbox like neighbors who didn’t want to actually have a conversation?
Kirishima didn’t look bothered at all. He just stared at Bakugo as if none of this was weird and unusual. “How you feeling?”
Bakugo looked blankly at him, he didn’t trust himself to speak well. “Like I just had a dick in my ass.” Ah yes, that’s why.
Kirishima laughed. “Well, I guess that’s to be expected.” He paused and looked worriedly at him. “Did it hurt? Did I not prep you enough?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? This shit again?” Bakugo rolled to his side and grabbed Kirishima’s face in his hands to force him to look directly at him. “Stop that thought right there, it didn’t hurt despite your giant fucking dick. You did great.”
The look of concern didn’t go away. “I don’t want to have accidentally hurt you, I care too much about you.” Despite the fact his face was squished like a chipmunk between Bakugo’s hands, Kirishima looked earnestly at him. “You know that right?”
“Of course I do you idiot,” Bakugo growled, squishing his face harder. Kirishima winced at that, and Bakugo let his hands loosen, one falling to the bed, one hand still loosely cupping Kirishima’s face. He felt it under his thumb, the skin was so soft, softer than he thought it would have been.
“Do you really? Because I like you Bakugo, I like you a lot, I have for years,” Kirishima said solemnly.
The weight of his gaze pinned Bakugo in place, pushing the pressure out his his lungs in an long exhale. He could feel his lip wobbling and bit the inside of his cheek. “I like you too...” he muttered.
Kirishima’s whole expression lit up like the sky, stars gleaming in his eyes. The burning spot in Bakugo’s chest flared up at the sight and he felt them connect, allowing a smile in return. What a weird fucking constellation they made. And all it took was spontaneous boners over his biceps to get here.
“I've liked you for so long,” Kirishima echoed, his hand mirroring Bakugos to touch his face gently. His hand were warm, and a bit sticky, but Bakugo didn't say a thing.
He just watched.
He watched as Kirishima’s eyes drifted down to his lips, biting his own between the points of his teeth.
He watched as Kirishima came even closer, his nose brushing his as he whispered more sweet things that buried down into his over sensitive skin like seeds he was sowing with care.
He watched as Kirishima’s eyes slid shut, getting closer, breathing over his face.
He didn’t watch as their mouths met, his eyes fluttering shut before that could happen.
It was nothing like their kissing before, fast and rough, Bakugo was pretty sure the inside of his mouth had a cut or two from the sharp points of Kirishima’s teeth. But this, this was different. Moving hesitantly to press their lips against each other. Bakugo could feel the way Kirishima’s jaw moved until his hand as they kissed and it send waves echoing down his arms, shaking from the intimacy of it all.
Kirishima pulled away first, eyes soft, and Bakugo chased him, pressing harder, moving slower, an edge of desperation. He wasn't used to this, the complete overhaul of his body turning to mush, only wanting to be closer to another person. Sex was one thing but this, this was different.
This was only theirs.
After a while, Kirishima pulled away, and Bakugo prided himself on how blown out his face was. He assumed he didn’t look much better, but he knew that Kirishima looked more wrecked. Kirishima laughed lowly and Bakugo refocused his eyes to look at him properly. “What?” he growled.
“Only you could be so grumpy so fast after sex,” Kirishima said.
Bakugo scowled. “Fuck you,” was his immediate response.
Kirishima wiggled his eyebrows at him. “Maybe if you’re lucky.”
Bakugo’s face scrunched even more and Kirishima laughed even harder. Stupid Kirishima didn’t know a joke when he saw one. He was a joke. Think that was funny? “One day I’ll wreck your ass, that’s a promise.”
“Oh good,” he replied, his grin stretched big and Bakugo couldn’t help but he swept up by a wave of embarrassment. He was… excited for that?
Before he could dwell too long, Kirishima sat up. Bakugo watched him go, enjoying the view as he stood up. This was the first time Bakugo had the chance to really look at Kirishima’s naked ass without the context of locker room etiquette in play. It wasn’t as plump as he had assumed, more lean, muscled, and the urge to grab it slipped into his mind. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t now, they had a thing going now right?
He looked up to Kirishima’s face to see he was already staring back at him, lip in his mouth. “What now?” Bakugo asked exasperated.
Flushing at being caught, Kirishima looked him in the eyes, then down his body on the bed. “I just….” He seemed at a loss for words. “You…”
Bakugo smirked, rolling over to stretch, his hips shifting in a way he knew was distracting. It worked as Kirishima swallowed loudly. “You what?” Teasingly, he separated his legs, the sound of his thighs unsticking audible.
“I…. don’t want to get up,” Kirishima admitted, eyes trained on Bakugo.
“So don’t.” His arms lowered to rest on his stomach.
“What about dinner? And a shower?”
“Both can wait.” His fingertips played with the trail of hair on his pelvis.
“Bakugo…”
“Just get down here you idiot.”
“But I’m your idiot right?”
Bakugo resisted the urge to lash back out and instead settled for wrapping his arms around Kirishima’s neck from where he’d perched back on the bed to bring him closer down and over him.
“Damn right you are.”