Chapter Text
Kirishima's apartment is a disaster. He tried to keep up with the cleaning, but there was a lot to do, and he was busy with school, judo practice, and work. He needed help. Kirishima didn't have a lot of money for a maid service, so he went where any sensible person with limited funds finds help: Craigslist. The ad listed was fairly cheap and the person seemed to have quite a bit of experience. Kirishima emailed the person, surprised to find out it was a guy. They arranged to meet later in the week at his apartment and Kirishima tried his hardest to tidy up.
When a knock on the door came, Kirishima stumbled over his feet in a rush to answer it. It was embarrassing to ask for help cleaning his apartment. He wasn't some busy rich person with a lavish pad. When he opened the door, he sucked in a breath. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn't the hot blond guy in glasses.
"Kirishima?" he asked. Kirishima blinked.
"What? Oh, yeah... Yeah that's me. Come in." He stepped out of the way, holding an arm out to direct the man into his small apartment. "You must be Bakugou?" he asked, leading the way towards the kitchen.
Bakugou grunted in reply. He was wearing a pale-yellow cardigan with black skinny jeans that seemed to hug his body perfectly. Why would someone this hot want to clean houses for a living?
"You can have a seat here," he pointed to a reclining chair adjacent to the sofa.
Bakugou eyed it, picking up a rogue sock from the seat with his two fingers like it was made of acid. He tossed it onto the floor. "Here's my reference list." He handed the sheet to Kirishima.
Kirishima looked it over, eyes widening. "This is really long. You've had these many clients?"
"Mostly referrals," said Bakugou. "Some of their comments are on the back, along with phone numbers if you want to give anyone a call."
Kirishima pursed his lips, brows furrowed. "If you're this popular, I don't understand why you're not charging more. I'm appreciative, don't get me wrong, but I'm sure you could ask for double what I'd be paying you."
"I'm not really doing it for the money," replied Bakugou. He carded his hand through his hair, taking another look around the room. "I like cleaning and I like watching people enjoy themselves."
Kirishima smiled at that. "I do enjoy a clean apartment."
"Right..."
Kirishima jumped to his feet, clapping his hands together. "Let me give you the tour. I'm thinking twice a week will be good for now. How many hours do you think it'll take you to clean?"
Bakugou ran his finger along the entertainment center, the digit coming up coated in dust. "The first visit, I'd say probably 5 hours to deep clean. Once that's done, I should be able to maintain the place in two hours."
Kirishima beamed at him, grabbing Bakugou's shoulders enthusiastically. "That's perfect! Thank you. Let me get you a spare key." He made his way towards the kitchen.
Bakugou followed him, brows knit together in confusion. "What do I need a key for?"
Kirishima glanced over his shoulder. "To let yourself in, of course."
"You're not gonna be here?"
"No. I'll either be at school or work depending on the time. Is that a problem?"
Bakugou shook his head. "I guess not. Most people just like to watch."
"I couldn't possibly watch you!" Kirishima waved his hands and set the key in the palm of Bakugou's hand.
It would be way too embarrassing watching someone else clean my place. I’d feel like I need to help them.
"You can just let yourself in and lock up when you're done. I'll leave the money on the table for you."
Bakugou shrugged. "If you say so..."
Kirishima was leery of having someone else clean his home, not that he did a good job himself, but his fears were quickly dissuaded. He was in awe of how spacious his apartment was when it wasn't filled with clutter and trash. Bakugou did wonders on that initial cleaning to whip the place into shape. And he was right, once the place was clean, it was a lot easier to maintain. Kirishima had felt bad about how messy it had become, so he tried his best to keep it in order on days Bakugou wasn't there.
The days that Bakugou did show up, he would leave for school, setting an envelope of cash on the kitchen table, and come home to a spotless apartment. As much as he wanted to have faith in humanity, Kirishima fully expected Bakugou to show up, take his money, and leave that first day.
His schedule left him busy most days: school, practice, work, repeat. On the days Bakugou cleaned, he would get a text letting him know he had arrived, and then another that he had left. The only other communication between them was if Kirishima needed to buy more supplies. Did other people go through cleaning supplies that quickly? Until Bakugou showed up, he hadn't bought laundry detergent in six months. He never seemed to run out of the stuff.
His phone chimed, a message from Bakugou letting Kirishima know he was at his apartment. He shut the gym locker, pocketing his phone. Practice was done early, and he didn't have work, so he might as well head home. Coming home to someone else in his house was strange, but also, oddly comforting. Kirishima smiled as he made his way to the train station, brandishing his pass to board. Bakugou should be close to finishing up by the time he arrives.
Two stations later, he was exiting the train, whistling as he made the fast approach to his apartment building. His apartment was on the third floor, and he took the steps two at a time. From outside the apartment door, Kirishima could hear some sort of whirring sound. "Vacuum cleaner?" He didn't even remember owning one. Kirishima opened the door, walking into his apartment and confirming that the sound he heard was in fact the vacuum cleaner. He kicked off his shoes at the entrance and tossed his bag onto the floor. He would deal with it later.
Kirishima followed the sound of the vacuum to the living room, where his jaw dropped at the sight before him. His cheeks flamed and he stumbled back, grabbing the wall for support. "What are you doing?" he shouted, shocked.
Across the room, his housekeeper Bakugou was on his hands and knees, the vacuum hose positioned under the couch, collecting whatever debris was beneath it, but what had completely startled him was the fact that Bakugou was bare ass naked.
Literally.
His fat, plump ass was facing Kirishima, whole exposed, and a peek of sack sticking out from between the back of his thighs.
Bakugou turned his head, brows knit as he took in Kirishima's surprised face. He reached over, shutting off the vacuum. "What's your problem?"
"Why are you naked?" Kirishima hissed between clenched teeth.
"I'm always naked?" Bakugou responded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Why are you naked in my apartment while you clean?"
Bakugou blinked twice, scarlet eyes piercing through Kirishima. "Because that's what you hired me to do?"
"WHAT?!"
Kirishima stumbled backwards, grabbing the back of his dining chair for support. "What... What are you talking about? I didn't do that!"
Bakugou stood up fully, dusting himself off and – oh, HOLY SHIT! Kirishima gulped. Even soft, the blond's dick had to be at least 9 inches.
What the fuck?!
Where was he supposed to look? Kirishima's eyes darted around the room, looking anywhere but at his housekeeper. "I-I don't remember agreeing to anything like that." Was it hot in here? Did Bakugou turn up the thermostat? He tugged at his collar. Out of the corner of his eye, Kirishima caught Bakugou folding his arms across his ample chest. Jesus! Do other guys naturally have tits that large?
"What did you think BARE-LY Cleaning Service meant?"
Kirishima blinked. "That you're really bad at your job?" It's why he was so surprised by the number of referrals Bakugou had listed.
Bakugou's eyebrow twitched. "Why would you hire someone that's blatantly bad at their job?"
Kirishima looked at him, then immediately snapped his neck in the other direction. "Can you, um... can you p-put some clothes on? I still don't understand why you're naked in my apartment."
Bakugou huffed, pulling Kirishima's attention back to him. He focused his gaze on the blond's forehead, afraid to look anywhere else. "Nude cleaning," said Bakugou, as if that answered everything.
"What?"
"When someone cleans your house naked?"
"THAT'S A THING?" Kirishima's eyes widened, making the mistake of taking in the full view of the man before him. He squirmed in place, feeling warmth pool in the pit of his stomach. Bakugou was lean and muscular, his body perfectly toned- muscles sculpted like the Statue of David. They dipped and weaved in all the right places, drawing his gaze lower until it drifted to the perfect V of his pelvis. Fuck. He was looking again.
"It is a thing. Did you seriously not know that?"
"No." His voice squeaked.
"I guess that explains a lot."
"What do you mean?" asked Kirishima, darting his gaze back up the length of Bakugou's body and to those piercing scarlet eyes.
"Typically, people that hire this kind of service are doing it to watch. They don't actually care how clean their place is. They just wanna get off on seeing someone parade around the place naked or in lingerie. Then they go jerk it."
"Why would you want to do this?"
"Because I like seeing the reactions of horny idiots," teased Bakugou. "And I'm good at cleaning."
He added as an afterthought. He 𝘸𝘢𝘴 good at cleaning. There was no denying that fact. "So, you've just been... cleaning my apartment naked? This whole time?"
Bakugou nodded. "Do you need to take care of that?"
"What?" Kirishima arched a brow.
Bakugou pointed to Kirishima's dick, and he followed his gaze. "O-oh!" His hands shot down to cover his crotch. When did he get so painfully hard? The denim looked ready to split from the tension of his erection. "I-I um... I..." he stammered.
"It's fine." Bakugou assured him, his voice lowering an octave. "This isn't actually part of my regular duties, but for you, I'd be willing to make an exception." He stepped forward, resting his hand over Kirishima's, fingers dipping lower.
Bakugou's fingers brushed against Kirishima's sack from the outside of his pants, and it was like a bolt of lightning shot through his body. He was suddenly very tense, and he cupped his dick tighter, trying to hide how hard he was. "I can help with that." Bakugou's breath tickled his ear and one of Kirishima's hands shot up to brush against it.
Oh god. Was this really happening? It wasn't just something that happened in porn? People did this in real life? All his years of discipline in Judo could not prepare Kirishima for what was about to happen as Bakugou rubbed slow circles against his taint with his thumb.
"Y-you don't..." he trailed off, gulping. Kirishima's heart hammered wildly in his chest and Bakugou's free hand brushed his lower lip.
"Hm?" Bakugou purred, and - OH SHIT!
Kirishima bit his lip, almost taking Bakugou's fingertip clean off. Holy Fuck! Everything went white. His vision was spotty, and his body trembled. He reached for the chair again, almost missing the backrest and falling over. Kirishima crossed and uncrossed his legs, and he was suddenly very out of breath.
Bakugou took a step back, brows knit together in surprise. "Did you just..."
"Oh my god!" Kirishima swallowed, catching his breath. As his vision cleared, he met the blond's gaze and panic set in. "Oh my god!" His face flushed red.
"Actually! The place looks great! You can go!" His voice cracked as he started to run off in the direction of his bedroom. "Don't forget your clothes!" He called over his shoulder before slamming the bedroom door shut.
There was some shuffling around in the living room for a minute before he heard the front door open and close. Kirishima exhaled in relief, then looked down at his pants. The front was soaked, and he winced as he peeled off the layer of denim and cotton. The inside of his boxer-briefs was a mess. "Did that seriously just happen?"
Kirishima stared at his phone in the middle of class, unsure of what he should do regarding the new housekeeper.
Bakugou: Do you still want me to work?
Me: Will you do it with clothes on?
Bakugou: That’ll cost you double.
Me: What? Why?
Bakugou: Double the clothing. Double the charge.
Me: That’s insane!
Bakugou: That’s business
He locked his phone, setting it on the table in front of him, cheeks flushed red with annoyance and embarrassment. Kirishima huffed, flipping angrily through the pages of his textbook, having missed the entire lecture thus far.
He really didn't want to fire Bakugou. His apartment had never been cleaner, and he wouldn't find anyone else to do it as cheaply. He had already looked, but Kirishima couldn't have some stranger parading around his apartment naked while he wasn't home.
Most people watch…
His cheeks burned. He wasn't some creep. What happened a few days ago was already mortifying enough. Kirishima stuck out his tongue in contemplation, pulling his phone back out.
Me: What about chemical burns? It can’t be safe to clean naked.
Bakugou: I wear an apron and gloves.
Kirishima slammed his phone down too hard at the thought of Bakugou with nothing but an apron on. He squirmed in his seat, biting his lip.
"You good man?" asked his classmate, Kaminari. The blond was eyeing him skeptically.
"Mhm," Kirishima squeaked, the intrusive thought running circles in his mind, making his pants too tight. His phone buzzed and he picked it up to look at again.
Bakugou: Were you picturing it?
Me: No!
Yes...
Bakugou: 😉
Oh god. Was he seriously going to commit to this?
Me: Fine.
Bakugou: Fine, what?
Me: Fine. You can keep cleaning my apartment the way you have.
Bakugou: I’ll see you Wednesday.
No, no, no, no, no! He could not be there to watch. Kirishima Eijirou wasn't some gross old man!
Kirishima rushed home from practice on Wednesday. Bakugou was already there, and just as he said, he was wearing an apron. It was made of plastic, easy to wipe clean, and he was bent over Kirishima's tub, scrubbing the ceramic walls.
Once again, Kirishima walked into a room with that perfect ass on display. He gulped, biting his bottom lip, and knocked on the doorframe to let Bakugou know he was standing behind him.
"Oh, hey. Welcome home." He greeted, turning to look back at Kirishima from over his shoulder.
"H-hey." Kirishima choked. Was it warm in here? Did Bakugou turn the heat up? He tugged at his collar, eyes wandering.
"I'm almost done in here."
"T-take your time." Oh god, this was a nightmare. Kirishima had never been to a strip club, but he imagined the feeling was similar. To have someone teasing you with their body, unable to touch - not that he wanted to touch! Nope. He wasn't thinking about those massive muscles, that plump chest, that huge FUCKING COCK! Nope. None of it.
Kirishima could see Bakugou's dick hanging limp from between his legs. From this angle, it almost touched his knee. How big was that thing when it was hard?
"You're staring."
Kirishima blinked, snapping his attention to the blond that was eyeing him coyly. "Wh-what?"
"You're staring. Not that it's a problem. Just thought I should let you know."
"O-oh. Sorry." He swallowed again.
Bakugou rose to his feet, turning around for Kirishima to see him fully. The apron covered most of him, but that chest was poking out in all directions - cleavage, side boob, nipple imprints. Shit. Kirishima felt weak in the knees.
"Do you... uh... Do you... do you usually touch your clients?" He hadn't meant to ask that, but his thoughts kept wandering back to the last time they saw one another.
Bakugou smirked a wicked grin, the corner of his mouth turning up and his eyes narrowing. "Only the special ones."
What does that mean?!
Bakugou untied the apron and Kirishima stumbled back into the hallway.
Oh god! Oh shit! This was a mistake. I shouldn’t be here!
He was not prepared to actually see Bakugou naked again. Kirishima gripped the doorframe to not lose his balance completely. His dick twitched in his pants expectantly. This was a bad idea. He should have fired him after all.
"You okay?" Bakugou leaned in close, tilting Kirishima's chin up with one finger, while wrapping an arm around his waist to secure him. Kirishima gulped, looking up at those vibrant, scarlet eyes. Oh man, he was done for. His tongue felt thick in his throat, and it was hard to breathe. "Peachy," he squeaked out.
"You know, for someone that was so against this arrangement, you seem just as enthused as anyone else." Bakugou spoke lowly into his ear.
Kirishima's hand shot up to cover it, his skin burning as his heart hammered in his chest. "I-I-I'm not... I don't-"
"It's okay," purred Bakugou.
"It's cute how much you react." Cute! Kirishima Eijirou was manly, not cute! "Are you gonna let me help with that this time?" Bakugou tapped the front of Kirishima's pants. "Or just keep pretending it's not there?"
"You don't - I don't... Um..." Kirishima's head was spinning as all his blood ran south.
"You know, with how much you're reacting, it's almost as if you're a virgin."
"How could you tell?!"
Bakugou's eyebrows looked ready to shoot off his head they raised so high. "You're not..."
"I-I mean, um, n-no! Of course not," stammered Kirishima in a poor attempt to cover up what he had just blurted out.
"My bad." Bakugou released him and Kirishima collapsed into a pile on the floor. "I don't mess with virgins. I guess that explains why you didn't understand the ad." He turned back around, grabbing his apron and gloves.
Kirishima felt panicked, some strange mixture of disappointment and blatant horniness. "N-no! Don't go!" He jumped to his feet, grabbing Bakugou's hand. "Please don't go," he begged. Kirishima knew he would hate himself, but he wanted to know where this was headed.
With furrowed brows and narrowed eyes, Bakugou stared at their connected hands. Kirishima's palm was sweating, but he didn't dare let go. "Um, I'm sorry," Kirishima apologized. "I don't know how this usually works, but please don't go."
"And if I stay?"
Kirishima gulped, swallowing down his nerves. "I really appreciate all the work you've done to clean my apartment. I don't know how I managed before you started. The place was a disaster."
"True." Bakugou pressed his lips together into a thin line. He tried to jerk his hand free, but Kirishima held strong.
"This is embarrassing." Kirishima rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand. He was thankful Bakugou still had the apron on. It was one less distraction to muddle his thoughts. "I would like you to keep working."
"Is that it?" asks Bakugou.
It should be it. Kirishima knows that should be it, but Bakugou had practically thrown himself at him, right? He always thought he would wait until the right person came along - never something as wild as this. "Um..."
"Yes?" Bakugou raised one of those perfect blond brows.
"What do you usually do with your other clients?"
The corner of his mouth tugged into a smirk. "They usually watch me clean, jerk off and make a bigger mess."
"Is that it?" Kirishima asked, slightly disappointed.
"I'm not a prostitute."
Kirishima's eyes widened at the realization of what he asked, and he dropped Bakugou's hand in a panic. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to incinerate that you were - oh my god."
"Insinuate."
"What?"
"You said incinerate."
Kirishima blinked, confused. "Come again?"
"Never mind." Bakugou shook his head. "Look kid-"
"I'm 23." Kirishima corrected.
"Right, okay. Anyway, I don't usually sleep with customers if that's what you're asking. Though for you, I'd be willing to make some exceptions."
Okay. This was happening. Kirishima could already feel all the blood rushing south, his head spinning from a lack of oxygen. His pupils dilated and his eyes widened, as Bakugou pulled him out of the bathroom and into the hallway.
"You're not gonna cum as quick as last time, right?"
Kirishima buried his face in his hands, his cheeks flushed red. "Can you please forget that ever happened? I swear I'm not normally like that."
"Hm? What are you like then, Red?"
Oh god. Fuck, he liked the sound of the pet name coming out of Bakugou's mouth, even if it wasn't something generically endearing. "I'm not sure," he admitted, hands still covering his face. "I'm just not like that."
"Well, I just made your bed. Should we go find out?"
Kirishima's head snapped up. "I don't wanna ruin all your hard work!"
Bakugou's lip quivered, then he was laughing. "Oh my god, you're fucking adorable. I can't! It's fine. I'll just remake the bed when we're done."
Kirishima Eijirou was not going to cry about being called adorable, no matter how much his eyes stung. "Okay."
Bakugou grabbed him by the wrist and began to lead Kirishima down the hall toward his bedroom. The blond's backside was on full display once more and he couldn't help his gaze narrowing on the toned ass that swayed with every step. Was he really about to have sex for the first time, and with someone this perfect looking?
Please don’t let me embarrass myself a second time, he pleaded to any god that would listen.
Bakugou opened the bedroom door. The window was open, and a draft wafted through the room, the curtains swaying in the breeze. He was about to have sex with his super-hot housekeeper in the middle of the afternoon.
I have definitely used up all my karmic life-points.
Kirishima shut the door behind them and Bakugou turned to face him, taking the apron off as he did. Kirishima lifted his head, staring at the ceiling. It was all he could do not to embarrass himself a 2nd time, because the moment he saw the blond fully exposed, he was in trouble.
"Why are you looking at the ceiling?"
"Because it's impolite to stare."
Bakugou shook his head, catching Kirishima's chin with his thumb and forefinger. "We're here for you to stare, idiot. You're gonna be seeing a hell of a lot more. We both are."
Kirishima gulped. "Right, right. Yeah." His gaze drifted south, his eyes following every crevice of toned muscle on Bakugou's body - collarbones, pecs, abs, waist, pelvis...
Bakugou was still flaccid, and he was already so big. "Are you - or should I - how should we?" Kirishima stuttered.
"Are you asking who's gonna fuck who?"
Kirishima nodded eagerly.
"Given the fact that you look like you're already gonna blow your load, I don't think you'd last long enough to properly top, at least not yet."
Kirishima licked his lip, eyes locked on the cock in front of him. "So that -" he pointed his finger at Bakugou's dick, "is gonna go inside me? Can it even fit?"
"Trust me," Bakugou smirked, "I'll make it fit."
A whimper slipped between trembling lips at the thought of something as massive as Bakugou's dick going inside of him. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever come up with a situation like this. Pale hands grabbed him by the hips, pulling Kirishima in closer. They were chest to chest, hips grinding against one another as Bakugou slipped his hands under Kirishima's shirt, working it up and over his head.
"Lean down for a second," said Bakugou as the shirt was discarded.
"Like this?" asked Kirishima, angling his torso so that his face was closer.
"Perfect." Bakugou captured Kirishima's face between his hands, pressing their lips together. There was a trill of excitement that bubbled up Kirishima's chest as he stared, wide eyed. Bakugou cracked a lid, noticing Kirishima staring. "Shut your eyes, idiot, and open your mouth." He said, their lips still touching.
Kirishima squeezed his eyes shut and parted his lips, then something warm, and wet, and soft purveyed his mouth - tongue, someone else's tongue was in his mouth. Bakugou licked his teeth, sending a shiver down Kirishima's spine. His tongue brushed against the roof of Kirishima's mouth, then he was kissing back, leaning into the touch of hands on his cheeks and lips moving in time with one another.
Bakugou sucked on Kirishima's bottom lip, then dropped one of his hands from Kirishima's cheek, trailing his fingers south. He kneaded at nipples, pinching, and tugging until the buds hardened.
Kirishima felt weak in the knees. Then he was being pushed back onto the bed. He sat at the edge of the bed, staring up at Bakugou, now eye-level with the tip of that massive pink cock. If Kirishima just leaned forward an inch or two, it would be touching him.
Bakugou must have noticed him staring because he asked: "Do you want to touch it?"
Kirishima lifted his gaze. "Can I?" he asked, a little too enthusiastically.
Bakugou nodded his head slowly and Kirishima reached out, wrapping his hand around the dick presented to him. It was soft and warm, smooth save for the dorsal vein on the underside, with pale brown pubes decorating the base. He ran his thumb over the tip and Bakugou let out a low moan, head thrown back. Bakugou grabbed Kirishima's shoulder for support as he began to slowly pump, beads of precum dribbling out and wetting his fingertips.
Kirishima watched as the man that had been parading around his apartment naked slowly came undone in the palm of his hand. Bakugou's grip on his shoulder tightened, fingernails digging half-moons into his skin. He began to quicken the pace, pumping faster. The very act was no different than what he was used to doing to himself, but everything about it felt different to Kirishima. Those weren't his ragged breaths and heady moans, they were Bakugou's, and it was intoxicating.
"Is it good?" asked Kirishima.
"So fucking good," Bakugou replied. "You're doing such a good job."
Kirishima whimpered, feeling his own dick twitch at the praise.
"We're supposed to be doing you though." Bakugou fisted his free hand in Kirishima's hair, giving a slight tug and a scratch at the scalp.
"I wanna finish - I want 𝘺𝘰𝘶 to finish." Kirishima corrected, looking up at him eagerly.
There was a hunger in Bakugou's scarlet eyes when he looked down at him and he licked his lips. "If you put it like that, how can I say no? Gotta do what the master orders, after all."
It took every ounce of willpower for Kirishima not to jizz in his pants at once.
Bakugou started fucking into Kirishima's fist, hips moving faster as he clung even harder to Kirishima's shoulder and hair. "Can I - ngh - can I come on your face?"
Kirishima's eyes widened and he nodded his head enthusiastically.
"Good. Such a good boy. I'm gonna paint your face so pretty. You're gonna look so good for me. Ngh."
The thrusting grew faster, harsher, more sporadic as Bakugou grew closer to release. Kirishima shut his eyes in anticipation for what was to come, waiting expectantly for Bakugou to finish. "Please," he whined, desperate for this man to destroy him. "Please hurry."
"Don't - ngh - worry baby. I'll give you exactly what you want in just a minute."
Fuck. Kirishima couldn't wait. It was killing him, but Bakugou responded to his needs before he could start whining again. The rapid thrusting came to a grinding halt as he stilled, muscles tensing. Bakugou's cock throbbed in Kirishima's hand and then wet, warmth hit his face in one, two, three spurts.
Kirishima could feel it dripping down his cheek, past his chin, and onto his chest. His eyelids were wet, preventing him from opening them, but he 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 the ragged moan that was Bakugou's orgasm and it sounded so good. He wished he could have seen it.
"Look at you, covered in my cum, so pretty." Bakugou cooed and Kirishima preened at the praise. "It's a shame to have to clean you up. Wish I could take a picture."
"D-don't!" Kirishima panicked, some of the cum falling into his mouth when he opened it. It was warm, salty, and bitter, but not horrible. He licked his lips, swallowing the spunk.
"Fuck that's hot." Bakugou released him, pulling back, his dick sliding through Kirishima's now loosened grip. "Just a sec." There were footsteps padding away from the bedroom. Then he was back a minute later. A warm wet towel wiped away the mess on Kirishima's face. "You can open your eyes now," said Bakugou.
Kirishima blinked, then saw how flushed Bakugou's cheeks were. His pink face was even prettier than his pink dick.
"Lay back," commanded Bakugou.
Kirishima obliged, back falling flat on the mattress. Bakugou leaned over him, hands going for the button of his pants and shimmying them down his legs. His boxer briefs were straining to keep his dick contained, at least, until Bakugou freed it.
"Shit," he breathed, "and I thought I was big."
"What? No. That's not - what?" Kirishima stammered. "I'm not..." he trailed off.
"You are." Bakugou bit his lip, practically drooling. "And uncut? Fuck, you look so good."
"It's not gross?"
Bakugou choked out an offended laugh. "Ha? After I teach you how to fuck, I can't wait to ride that fucking beast."
Oh. Heat rose in his face as Kirishima blushed. The fact that they were going to do this more than once had his heart racing. "Do you have lube?"
"For what?"
Bakugou narrowed his eyes at Kirishima and shook his head. "Shit. I know you said you were a virgin, but... fuck. There's no way we can have sex today. It'll hurt you too much and I don't want to make you bleed."
"Oh..." Kirishima's lip quivered and he moved to sit up. "Okay. I understand. Sorry." He reached over the edge of the bed to grab his shirt and Bakugou took him by the arm.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting dressed?" replied Kirishima, confused. "You said we can't have sex."
"That doesn't mean we’re done, idiot."
"We're not?"
"No."
Oh. He dropped his shirt. "Then what-"
Bakugou shook his before capturing Kirishima's lips again, tangling his fingers in red hair. He tilted Kirishima's chin up, chewed at his bottom lip, before beginning to pepper kisses down his jaw and throat. Kirishima gasped as teeth nibbled at his collarbone, then a choked moan escaped him. Teeth and lips and tongue, trailed their way down his chest, stopping to suck at each nipple until they were firm once more, then lower, down his abs, leaving bite marks, and hickies just above his hips. The sucking tickled, the tingling sensation making his cock ache as it bounced on his stomach.
Kirishima moaned, calling out Bakugou's name in a stuttered, broken sob as one hand seized his dick. Bakugou pressed the tip of his thumb into the slit at the cockhead and pushed down on the foreskin, pumping achingly slow. His mouth nipped and licked at Kirishima's inner thigh, only pausing to suck on his own fingers.
"Wh-what are you d-doing?" asked Kirishima.
"You'll see," was all Bakugou said in lieu of an answer. He continued to pump, precum leaking onto his hand. After what seemed like far too long, Bakugou finally pulled his fingers out of his mouth and pressed his index finger against the entrance of Kirishima's hole.
"I thought - I thought you said we couldn't."
"Yeah, but we still gotta practice stretching you open. It'll make it easier next time. Plus, you're still gonna enjoy it when I do this." Bakugou pushed the first finger in, 2 knuckles deep, and Kirishima arched his hips with a gasp. He was inside, finger moving torturously slowly.
"Ah!" Kirishima moaned, cumming immediately. His vision was spotty for a moment, breathing labored, as he dropped from his high.
"Coming from only half a finger? We're gonna have to work on your stamina, aren't we?"
Kirishima whimpered.
Bakugou pushed his finger in deeper, exploring the cushiony walls within. The hand on Kirishima's cock began to pump again, working the now-wet shaft at a slower pace.
"Pl-please," Kirishima whined, overstimulated.
"It's okay, baby." Bakugou assured him. "Have you never cum twice in a row before?"
Kirishima shook his head, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.
"You're gonna like this then." Bakugou worked another finger in, rubbing them up and down the wet heat of Kirishima's insides. "That's right. Just relax. Good boy."
Kirishima threw an arm over his eyes, toes curling into the bedsheets. It truly was better than anything he could ever imagine. "Please," he whined again. He couldn't see it, but he could feel the smug grin on Bakugou's lips.
"Almost there."
The tips of Bakugou's fingers pressed against something inside of Kirishima and he cried, choking on a broken moan. "Wh-what?"
"Found the sweet spot." Bakugou continued to tease at Kirishima's prostate as he leaned forward, taking the head of Kirishima's wanton cock into his mouth.
That sweet warmth was too much. Bakugou flattened his tongue, suckling first on the tip, before going deeper. Kirishima could feel the head knocking against the roof of Bakugou's mouth, sliding down until lips pressed against the base. "O-oh shit!" Bakugou bobbed his head up and down in time with his fingers wriggling inside Kirishima's ass. A third entered, stretching the opening wider, tugging at the prostate.
Kirishima grabbed the sheets, fisting his hands into the mattress. "F-fuck," he cried. "B-Bakugou..." He couldn't. It was too much. Kirishima clenched his legs, wrapping his strong, muscular thighs around Bakugou's neck as he arched his back, heat pooling in the pit of his stomach. "C-c-cumming. B-Bakugou I'm cu-"
There was a garbled choking sound as Bakugou went limp between Kirishima's thighs. Kirishima tensed, his body stuttering as he came harder than he ever had before, straight down the blond's throat. When it was over, his back fell limp against the mattress and he looked down to see Bakugou's mouth slide off his dick, slightly agape, as he gasped for air.
"O-oh my god! Are you okay?!"
Bakugou pulled his fingers free of Kirishima's ass and grabbed at his chest, wheezing. "Y-yeah... Just... Just a sec." His eyes blinked tears away and his whole body was flush. "Sorry, I'm seeing spots. Give me a minute."
"What?"
"I didn't-" his voice rasped, sounding scratchy, "I knew you were strong, I mean, it's obvious by all the muscle you have, but I didn't think you were that strong."
"I do Judo," confessed Kirishima.
"That-" he gasped for air, "that explains it."
"What happened?"
"You choked me out just before you came. Everything went black for a second."
"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" Kirishima crawled onto his knees, grabbing Bakugou by the shoulder and inspecting him.
"Fine... fine." Bakugou took another long slow breath. "Never thought I'd be into choking, but I think I liked it." Kirishima sat there in disbelief as the blond started to laugh to himself, shaking his head. "Fuck. Yeah... I must have. I came again when you choked me out."
What?
"All right," Bakugou nodded his head and carded his hand through his hair. "I should probably get going. Make sure you pick up some lube and condoms for next time. I'll be back in two days to clean your place again."
"You're just... you're just going?"
Bakugou blinked, looking stunned. "Yeah? I've been here longer than I normally would. I have to get back to my other job before someone gets mad."
Kirishima watched in disbelief as Bakugou left. What was this other job? Who was this someone? Had he somehow walked himself into a mistress type situation?
Am I the other woman?
He was naked, alone, and panicking.
Gah! This was a terrible idea. I knew it was a terrible idea. Why did I have to be so stupid?
He just had to let his hormones get the better of him. Kirishima scrambled to get dressed, throwing on his clothes, and curling up on his bed. His small apartment suddenly felt too large.
It only made sense that someone as hot and mature as Bakugou would already be seeing someone. He would have to tell him they can't do this again. A very small (large) part of him was disappointed at the thought of never getting to feel that massive dick inside him, but it was the right thing to do - the responsible thing. He couldn't let his emotions sway him.
I’ll talk to Bakugou when he comes over again.
Okay, so, here's the thing, Kirishima really did mean to talk to him about it. He truly did, but once you let yourself start thinking with your dick, it's hard to stop. He did as he was told, picking up the condoms and lube - not because he was planning to have sex with Bakugou! - because it was the responsible thing to do. Should he ever find himself in a comparable situation in the future, he needed to be prepared.
Responsible.
So, when one Kirishima Eijirou walked into his apartment after school two days later, with a pharmacy shopping bag in tow, he fully intended to put an end to whatever this little entanglement was before it got any worse.
However, it's hard to say no when the other party in question is naked in your living room dusting the high corners of the ceiling, body stretched taut, and dick swaying between two perfectly toned thighs under that glorious round ass.
Kirishima gulped. He was fucked - figuratively, and also, probably, hopefully, literally. "Ahem," he cleared his throat.
Bakugou turned around smiling. He held the feather duster in one hand and rested the other on his hip. Kirishima tried to keep his gaze from wondering, but seriously, how big was that guy's fucking dick?
He said my dick is big too! Whose dick is bigger?
Not important!
"Welcome home," Bakugou greeted him.
Kirishima's cheeks flushed red. He could feel the warmth begin to pool in the pit of his stomach. He needed to think pure thoughts. "I'm home," he replied.
"Whatcha got in the bag?" asked Bakugou, a knowing smirk on his face.
"Oh, um... just stuff. Personal stuff." Kirishima added quickly.
Bakugou sauntered over to him, running a finger down Kirishima's chest. "What kind of personal stuff?"
"You know, the um... personal kind?" He looked up at the ceiling, trying not to make eye contact.
"Why are you looking away?" Bakugou caught Kirishima's face between his thumb and forefinger, tilting his chin down so that their eyes met.
"No reason."
"There must be some sort of reason, or you wouldn't be doing it."
"I can't look at you!" Kirishima admitted, embarrassed.
Bakugou's brow twitched upwards and that smirk on his face widened. "Ah, I see." He dropped the feather duster, his free hand moving to the front of Kirishima's pants. "Having a hard time, are we?"
"N-no, um, I just-"
"It's okay. It's what we agreed on, isn't it?"
"We don't have to." Bakugou frowned. "Is something wrong? You were begging me last time."
"N-no, I just, um..."
“Kirishima,” Bakugou’s voice was stern. "I thought we were past this?"
"We are!" Kirishima's voice rose an octave. "It's just..." He hesitated.
Bakugou shook his head, letting go of Kirishima's chin. "Look, if you don't want to have sex with me, then we won't fuck. I'm not gonna force you. I can go to other people."
Panic set in. Blood was pounding in Kirishima's ears, and he lunged forward, clinging to Bakugou's arm. "No, I do! I wanna have sex with you so bad, but I don't wanna be the other woman!" He cried, burying his face into the blond's chest.
"I'm sorry, what?" Bakugou lifted his chin again to a teary-eyed, bleary Kirishima with a quivering lip.
"I don't want to be somebody's mistress!"
Bakugou stared down at him, brows knit together in confusion. "You're a guy," he said finally after a long pause. "By definition, you can't be a mistress."
"I don't-" Kirishima sniffled, "I don't wanna have sex if you're seeing someone else."
"Who said I was seeing anyone else?"
What? Kirishima blinked some tears away. "But you said you had to leave the other day before someone found out how long you were gone."
Realization dawned on Bakugou, and he shook his head with a sigh. "I knew I shouldn't have gotten involved with a virgin." He pushed Kiri off him, holding him at arm's length. "I was talking about my job. I didn't want to listen to the earful I'd get from my pain in the ass secretary."
"So, there's no one else?" Kirishima sniffled again. "I already told you before that I'm not just some whore. I'm not having sex with you for money, and if I did have a partner, I damn well wouldn't cheat on them. I like sex, but I'm not an asshole."
That was a relief. "I'm sorry," Kirishima apologized.
Bakugou shook his head again, then wiped away the tears with his thumb. "Are you good?"
"Yeah." Kirishima nodded. "I'm okay."
"Good. Now that that's settled..." He trailed off, capturing Kirishima's face between both hands.
Bakugou pressed their lips together, pulling Kirishima in for a kiss. Kirishima whimpered as their mouths slotted together, and Bakugou's tongue worked its way into his mouth. The kiss was even better than the last time. He leaned into it, wrapping his fingers in soft blond hair. Their bodies were pressed flush against one another and something thick was poking at his leg. Before Kirishima could even begin to think about what it meant, there were a pair of hands on his ass, gripping firmly, and then his feet were off the ground.
The shopping bag hung from the crook of his elbow as he was hoisted into the air and being carried in the direction of his bedroom. It was so hot how easily Bakugou could pick him up given Kirishima's portly size.
His back knocked against the door as Bakugou reached for the handle, carrying Kirishima into the room. As they kissed, Bakugou tasted like honey and cinnamon and was so very sweet. It was intoxicating. Kirishima was let down onto the bed, staring up at Bakugou breathless. He never knew kissing could leave you so thoroughly winded. No one in the past had ever kissed him like his housekeeper did. Kirishima licked his lips, heart pounding wildly in his chest as his eyes feasted upon the meal standing naked before him. Bakugou's dick was already half-erect, too heavy to stand at full mast on its own.
Kirishima bit his bottom lip, eyeing it. "Can I... can I blow you again?" he asked, embarrassed.
Bakugou chuckled softly, ruffling Kirishima's hair. "I love your eagerness, but I have something else in mind. Next time though..."
Next time! The thought of there being yet another next time thrilled Kirishima to no end.
Bakugou leaned forward and pulled the shopping bag off of Kirishima's arm, then slipped his hands under the t-shirt he had on. Strong fingers trailed up Kirishima's body, feeling every plane and curve until they found their way to his nipples. Bakugou pinched, soliciting a moan from Kirishima, and the blond licked at his throat, causing Kirishima to shudder at the touch.
"Does that feel good?"
"Ngh," Kirishima whimpered, arousal pooling in the pit of his stomach. His pants felt tight, too tight, and he threw his head back as Bakugou began to nibble at his throat.
"That's a good boy," Bakugou praised him. Kirishima whined again.
Bakugou lifted Kirishima's shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. He trailed warm, wet kisses from his throat, down his collarbone, and stopped at his nipples. His tongue flicked in and out as he teased at the hardening bud. Kirishima leaned onto the mattress, back arching as he moaned from teeth grazing his skin. As Bakugou sucked and bit at his right nipple, he continued to tug and flick at the left. His free hand moved further south, unbuttoning Kirishima's jeans, and palming at the outside of his boxer briefs.
Kirishima felt the light friction of Bakugou's hand slowly beginning to stroke the length of his shaft from outside the fabric. He bucked his hips up, rutting against the hand on his cock, underwear dampening with beads of pre-cum. He gasped as Bakugou's thumb began to rub slow circles against the head of his cock, teasing at the slit. His hand pumped achingly slowly, building Kirishima to a false sense of release.
"Pl-please," he whined, balling his fists into the sheets.
Bakugou lifted his head and ceased the teasing on Kirishima’s dick, leaving him empty and wanting for more. "Are you already asking to cum?" asked Bakugou, sounding breathy as he spoke.
"Please," Kirishima whined again, rubbing his clothed erection against Bakugou's bare one.
"Aw," Bakugou teased, "but I was hoping we could really take our time today and enjoy it. You want to be able to hold out longer, don't you?"
Kirishima whimpered, nodding his head in reply.
"Are you going to be a good boy, and do exactly as I say?"
He nodded again.
"I'm going to need to hear you say it." Bakugou's grin was terrifyingly sexy.
"Yes."
"That's better." Bakugou slipped his hand under the waistband of Kirishima’s underwear, cupping his balls. Bakugou's hand was warm as he lightly tugged on Kirishima’s sack.
Kirishima moaned.
"I have something special I want to do to help keep you from coming too quickly, but you have to promise you'll listen carefully."
"O-okay," replied Kirishima, already feeling his climax building once more.
"If at any point it starts to get to be too much, I need you to say: cloud."
"Cloud?" Kirishima echoed in confusion.
"Yeah. It's gonna be our safe word. Can you do that for me?"
"D-do we n-need - ah! - a safe word?" Kirishima asked between moans as Bakugou continued to lightly tug.
Bakugou halted his fondling and looked down at Kirishima with a serious expression on his face. "Safe words are always important. Understand?"
Kirishima nodded. "Okay."
"So, you're gonna say cloud if it's too much?"
"Yes."
"Good boy."
Bakugou proceeded to shimmy Kirishima’s pants and underwear off his body, tossing them onto the floor and reaching into the shopping bag from the pharmacy. He pulled out the lube and condoms, then got up from the bed.
"Where are you going?" Kirishima asked, flustered.
"I'm just gonna grab something I brought too. It'll help you last longer, and it'll feel amazing when you finally cum."
He couldn't say no to that. "Okay."
Bakugou walked out of the room, then came back a minute later with a long, skinny needle-looking rod with a hoop on the end.
"What is that?" Bakugou smiled, pleased with the question. "A sounding rod. It'll keep you from cumming until I pull it out."
His eyes widened. "Pull it out of where?"
"Your urethra. It's going in your dick, but only if you want it to. You do want to last longer, don't you?"
Kirishima gulped, terrified at the prospects of the rod being shoved into his dick (it was so long!), but even more terrified of disappointing Bakugou. He didn't want to cum embarrassingly quick again. "Yes," he replied after a momentary pause.
"Good."
Bakugou began to pump Kirishima’s cock once more, bringing him just to the tipping point before slowly starting to slide the cool metal into the slit of his cockhead. It stung going in, but it wasn't painful. "Ngh," he winced, adjusting to the sensation.
"God, you look so beautiful like that."
Kirishima was naked, flushed, and in desperate need of release, feeling the sounding rod move when he moves. Lashes wet with unshed tears; Kirishima whined from the pressure building inside of him. He wanted to cum badly, but the rod prevented it. He reached for his dick, but Bakugou captured his hands.
"Ah, ah, ah," Bakugou teased. "No touching, lest we have to tie you up too."
Kirishima gulped, then gasped as a cool wet finger slipped inside his hole. "Wh-wha...?"
"How does that feel?" Bakugou asked as he curved his finger upwards, feeling the swell of Kirishima's wall clenching around him as he stroked the insides.
"G-good." Kirishima cried, hips trembling as a second finger was inserted. There was a light pinching and tugging sensation as Bakugou worked at his prostate, pushing Kirishima to the edge, and then pulling him right back again whenever he began to teeter over. It was simultaneously the best and worst feeling he had ever experienced, and his dick throbbed in acknowledgement against his stomach. He bucked his hips again, chasing the dragon that was his failed release. "Pl-please," cried Kirishima, fat tears trailing down the sides of his face.
"Soon, baby." Bakugou purred, adding a third finger, and furthering the stretch of his asshole. He let go of Kirishima's wrists and moved his other hand to join the first. While the three fingers on his left hand worked Kirishima from the inside, the forefinger on his right pulled the entrance open wider. "God what a pretty hole you have. I could eat it right up. And these thick balls, so full and ready to spread their love around."
Kirishima opened his eyes to see Bakugou licking his lips, ready to devour him. "N-need, please."
"Well, if you're going to beg," Bakugou chuckled, eyeing Kirishima before pulling his fingers free. "This should be good. Remember what I said?"
Kirishima nodded, ass clenching around air, desperately searching to be filled. "Cl-cloud," he whimpered. "Please Bakugou?"
The blond smiled wide, then grabbed one of the condoms out of the package and proceeded to slide it onto his massive cock. There was a split second where Kirishima wondered if the size was even big enough to house something that large, but it was quickly forgotten when he felt the soft thickness of Bakugou's cockhead knock against the entrance to his hole.
"Take a deep breath," Bakugou encouraged, wrapping his hands around Kirishima's thighs.
Kirishima did as he was told, inhaling, then feeling the pressure of that thick dick begin to push into him. He gasped, feeling winded.
"Are you okay?" asked Bakugou as he moved slowly to let Kirishima adjust. "This is just the tip."
Just the tip! Holy shit! What would it feel like when the rest was inside?
"God you're so tight. You're taking me so well. You know that? So good."
Kirishima moaned as Bakugou began to thrust deeper, pushing his shaft in until he finally bottomed out. It felt like the blond was knocking into one of his lungs; he was so big.
"You see that?" Bakugou pressed a hand against the flat of Kirishima's stomach, pushing against the cock inside. "You like the way I fill you up? You're taking me so well I can see myself inside of you."
There was another whimper as Kirishima choked out a sob. Bakugou hadn't even begun to move yet, and his insides were a mess. The constant pressure on his prostate and the rod in his cock were unbearable. "B-Bakugou," he choked out, looking up at the blond through bleary eyes.
"Shh, shh, shh." Bakugou shushed him, resecuring his hand around Kirishima's thigh and pulling back slightly. Some of the pressure was alleviated as Bakugou pulled out to the tip. "I'm gonna move now." He said, as he thrusted back in more quickly this time.
It felt like Kirishima had been punched in the gut - his insides rearranging themselves to accommodate the size of Bakugou's cock. "G-good," he cried, toes curling in the sheets. He was so close. So awfully close! He wanted to cum so badly. "Pl-please! B-Bakugou, please. Cum. I-I wanna..."
"It's okay." Bakugou cooed, pressing a kiss to Kirishima's inner thigh with another thrust. "Just a little longer sweetheart. It's gonna be worth it."
Kirishima wasn't sure he could last "a little bit longer," but he wanted to believe him. His nails were digging into the dirt of the cliff, barely hanging on, waves crashing around below him, waiting to swallow him whole. He wanted to let go and fall into the abyss below - to succumb to the sweet, sweet release of the high he was on.
Kirishima's rectal muscles clenched around Bakugou's cock, and he suddenly felt very panicked. His eyes widened and he reached for Bakugou's hands, and the blond raised a brow. "Something - please - I..."
There was a knowing smirk on Bakugou's face as he jerked his hips forward, slamming into the deepest parts of Kirishima who gasped for air. "It's okay. You're okay," he reassured him. Bakugou wrapped an arm around Kirishima's back, scooping him up to sit him on his lap.
They were face to face and now somehow Bakugou felt like he was penetrating even deeper. Kirishima leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Bakugou's back, clinging to him for dear life. He dug half-moons into the blond's skin, trying to hold on. He couldn't think straight.
Kirishima could barely form words, but when Bakugou pressed a kiss to his cheek and said, "it's time," pulling the pin from the proverbial grenade, Kirishima came harder than he ever had. His vision went white and his body limp, as he spilled his seed between the two of them, ropes of white painting each of their stomachs.
Kirishima buried his face in Bakugou's neck as the blond continued to fuck up into him, punching breathes out of him with every thrust. His breathing was labored, when Bakugou finally gripped Kirishima's hips tightly, slamming him down one last time onto his lap before he came too.
Everything was quiet, save for the rasping breaths, as they both came down from their high. "You..." Bakugou gasped. "You did so good." He pressed another kiss to Kirishima's head before laying him back down on the bed.
He pulled out, condom threatening to spill as it was filled to the brim. Bakugou pinched it off, disposing of it in the wastebasket, then moved back to the bed, running his long fingers through red hair, brushing Kirishima's bangs out of his eyes. "Are you okay?"
Kirishima was still seeing stars as he nodded his head, gazing into those soft scarlet eyes staring back at him. "Y-yeah. I'm okay." He took a breath, trying to steady his rapid heartbeat. "That was... 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦."
Bakugou chuckled. "You rest. I'll get you some water."
He moved to get off the bed, but Kirishima reached out for him, capturing Bakugou's wrist. "Can you just stay for a while?"
There was uncertainty in the blond's face, but he nodded, moving back to his spot on the mattress and wrapping his arms around Kirishima. "Sure. Just for a bit."
Chapter 2
Notes:
Tags have been updated
UPDATE: 8/8/2023 There is now art of Bakugou's date outfit thanks to the wonderful Helix. I am a mess. Please go give them some love. ♥
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
For better or for worse, Kirishima was in deep. Figuratively. Bakugou was the one that was literally in deep every time he buried himself inside of Kirishima, and it happened often. They had developed a routine. Bakugou would show up to clean, Kirishima would rush home after practice, Bakugou would finish cleaning, and then he would take Kirishima on the ride of his life.
If one could get drunk on sex, then Kirishima was an alcoholic. Twice a week he would get fucked out of his mind, and then be left waiting until the next time. He didn't know what to make of the relationship if you could even call it that. Sometimes Bakugou would briefly stick around after, other times he would rush out the door glaring at his phone. And true to his word, never did he charge extra for the sex.
Kirishima was in this weird state of bliss, while also waiting for the other shoe to drop, and people were starting to take notice. Which is how he found himself under the heated gaze of his coworker Sero. He was ringing up a customer when he felt the dark eyes narrowed in on him. As soon as the customer walked out of the convenience store, Kirishima turned to look at Sero. "Is something wrong?"
"You are covered in hickies."
"What?" he gasped.
His hand shot to his throat in a feeble attempt to hide the marks on his skin. A blush crept across Kirishima's face, extending to his ears. "Are they that bad?"
"Dude, have you seen your back in a mirror? When you were changing into your uniform earlier it looked like someone was playing connect-the-dots." Sero smirked, shaking his head. "Must be some great sex."
"The best!" replied Kirishima, a little too quickly.
Sero snickered. "So," whistled Sero, "when do we meet'em?"
"What do you mean?" asked Kirishima, confused.
"The person you're dating," huffed Sero. "I've known you for two years and you've never dated anyone. I'm sure everyone else'll be looking forward to meeting the lucky person too."
"Oh," Kirishima chewed at his lip, "we're uh... we're not dating."
"Damn."
"It really must be some good sex." Sero licked his lips and carded his hand through his jet-black hair, giving Kirishima a onceover. "We're all planning to go out next weekend. You should come.”
"Yeah," Kirishima agreed. "That sounds great."
"The more the merrier if you want to bring your sex buddy with too."
"We're not sex buddies!" he protested.
"What else would you call it?"
"Um..." That was a good question. What would they call it? Bakugou had kept his word. He never charged for the sex, only the housekeeping. And the only time they talked on the phone was about work-related things. Kirishima had tried to strike up a conversation a few times, but it was always ignored. Sex acquaintances? That didn't feel right either.
"So, fuck buddies." Sero reconfirmed.
"Shut up!" Kirishima picked up a roll of paper towels off the counter and tossed it at Sero's head. "It's your turn to clean the bathroom."
"Dude, I clean it every time."
Kirishima frowned, then sighed. "I'll talk to him."
"What?"
"I'll see if he wants to come with to hang out."
Brows raised in eager anticipation, Sero smirked. "Oh?"
"He probably won't, though, so don't get too excited."
"Sure, sure," Sero teased, walking off in the direction of the bathrooms.
Kirishima looked up from his spot on the bed, sweat dripping off the brow of the man above him onto his face. He moved to wipe it away, digging his nails into Bakugou's broad back as the blond thrust into him. The head of his cock slammed full force into Kirishima's prostate, causing him to choke on a moan that was ripped from his lungs. He whimpered as his hips trembled, dick bouncing against his waist. "B-Bakugou," Kirishima cried.
Bakugou ran his fingers through red hair, sliding his hand to the small of Kirishima's back, lifting the redhead's hips. He leaned forward, nibbling lightly on his earlobe. "Just a little more," he whispered, sending a shiver down Kirishima's spine.
Kirishima dug his heels into Bakugou's back, clinging to the blond as he continued to thrust into him. Bakugou held firmly to Kirishima's hips, holding him in place as he assaulted his ass until his thrusts halted, body trembling as he came. When he regained some feeling in his limbs and his shallow breaths evened out, he pulled out, lying beside Kirishima with his head propped up on his elbow.
His free hand moved to Kirishima's dripping cock, pumping the shaft quickly. Kirishima whimpered, feeling the firm hand around his dick. When he finally came, his body was sufficiently spent. Cum covered his chest, cooling rapidly against his skin. He took a shuddering breath and turned his head to Bakugou beside him. "H-how...?"
"Hm?" replied Bakugou lazily, scarlet eyes hazy.
Kirishima pressed his hand to his heart, feeling it beat rapidly in his chest. "You're just—you're so good at sex."
"I have a good partner," said Bakugou.
A flush ran down Kirishima's entire body, cheeks flaming. He draped an arm over his face, trying to hide his embarrassment. He felt the weight of the bed shift as Bakugou climbed off it. The bathroom door opened and shut, then he felt a damp cloth wipe down his chest. "Thanks," he muttered.
"No problem."
Kirishima peeked out from under his arm, chancing a glance at Bakugou. He was radiating that afterglow look, thoroughly satisfied with the dicking down he just gave Kirishima. It was unfair how pretty he was. "Beautiful," Kirishima muttered.
"Ha." Bakugou laughed. "You're one to talk."
"What?" "Have you seen the way you look getting fucked?"
"No?"
Bakugou smirked. "Maybe we should do it in front of a mirror next time." Kirishima's eyes widened.
"People do that?"
Bakugou chuckled harder. "Wow. There's still so much to teach you."
Kirishima felt his heart leap. He chewed at the inside of his cheek, wondering if now would be a good time to broach the subject of hanging out together outside of the bedroom. As much as Kirishima didn't want to admit it, they really were nothing more than sex partners and he'd like to maybe, possibly, change that to something a little more personal. He licked his lips, watching as the blond got dressed.
"So, um..."
"Hm?" Bakugou raised a brow.
"I, uh—I was wondering if you were busy... this weekend?"
Bakugou had one leg in his pants and froze, turning his full attention to Kirishima. "Hungry for more already? It's gonna take me a few minutes."
"Ha? No." Kirishima chuckled nervously. "It's not about the sex.”
Bakugou furrowed his brows. "Are you having company over or something and need an extra cleaning?"
Kirishima shook his head, red bangs falling in his eyes. "No, no. Nothing like that."
"Then what?"
Fuck. Why was this so hard? "I thought maybe we could hang out. Ya' know, without the sex or cleaning?"
"No sex?"
"No."
"So? A date?"
Kirishima shot up; cheeks set aflame. "N-no. Not a date. Just... hanging. Some of my friends are getting together and—"
"You want me to hang out with you and your friends in a not-date capacity?"
Shit. This was bad. He shouldn't have opened his mouth. This was all Sero's fault—him and his big mouth.
Kirishima had made it weird. Now Bakugou probably wouldn't want anything to do with him whatsoever. "Never mind!" he rushed to say. "Sorry, just forget I said anything. It was a dumb—"
Kirishima was cut off by the sound of Bakugou suddenly on his phone. "Hey nerd," he barked, "what am I doing this weekend?" There was a pause. "Well fucking cancel it. What do you mean why?" Another pause. "Because I fucking said so. They can wait until business hours for all I care for. No. I swear to God, Deku!"
Kirishima watched in confusion as Bakugou stood there arguing on the phone with whomever he had called. His pants had been pulled up to his waist, but they hung loose, unbuttoned.
"Well tell Cheeks to go fuck herself too. No. She can do it fine without me. Yeah, yeah. I'll see you tomorrow." Bakugou hung up the phone.
"Um...?" Kirishima blinked. "Is everything okay?"
"Fine. What time?"
"What?"
"I said, what time?”
Kirishima blinked again, more confused. "What time for what?"
"Hanging out with your dumb friends. What time?" Bakugou explained.
"Oh. Um, seven?"
"Is that a question?" Kirishima shook his head. "No. It's at seven."
"Okay." Bakugou pulled his shirt on.
"I'll meet you here and pick you up at six-thirty."
Kirishima scrambled to his feet in excitement. "You'll really come with?" His eyes sparkled with anticipation and Bakugou winced.
"Don't make me regret saying yes."
"You didn't."
"What?" This time it was Bakugou's turn to be confused.
"You didn't technically say yes."
Bakugou slapped his palm to his face, shaking his head. "Yes, idiot. I'll go."
Kirishima threw his arms around Bakugou's waist, hoisting him into the air in a bear hug. "Awesome!"
"Put me down, moron."
Kirishima obliged, though his grin didn't leave his face. "So, um, who was that on the phone?"
"What? Oh, my assistant," said Bakugou, as if it was the most casual thing in the world.
"You have an assistant?"
"Yeah."
What on earth did he do when he wasn't cleaning houses in the nude?
"Are you gonna stand there naked forever?" Bakugou was staring at him, a glint in his eyes.
"Says the nudist," quipped Kirishima.
"Not a nudist," corrected Bakugou. "I wear clothes the rest of the time.”
Kirishima got dressed, pulling on a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Bakugou watched him the whole time, which oddly made him feel self-conscious, even though it should be way less embarrassing to get dressed than it is to be naked. And yet, it wasn't. He wasn't sure what to do with himself once they were both fully clothed. "Do you want some food or something?"
Bakugou shook his head. "Nah. I should get going."
"Oh." Disappointment. "Okay."
Even though he had to reach up now that they were both on their feet, Bakugou ruffled Kirishima's disheveled hair, smirking. "Don't look so sad. I'll see you in a couple of days. Your friends better not be lame."
"They aren't! I swear!"
The blond looked skeptical.
“They aren’t!” whined Kirishima.
"If you say so."
"I do!"
Bakugou still didn't look convinced, but he shrugged and patted Kirishima on the cheek. "All right then. I'll see you Saturday."
Kirishima smiled back at him. "Saturday," he repeated.
Kirishima dressed and undressed himself more than a dozen times on Saturday. The minute hand on the clock ticked closer and closer to 6:30 and he still hadn't decided on what to wear. It wasn't a date, not technically, but if it went well, maybe it could lead to something. He wanted it to lead to something. Bakugou was hot and mysterious—not to mention great in bed. Not that that was a deciding factor or anything. Part of him had been infatuated with the blond the moment he walked in for an interview. Kirishima hadn't seen him with glasses since, but the way they rested on that delicate nose of his was too perfect.
He was getting distracted again.
He settled on a plain white V-neck and faded blue jeans. The shirt clung to his muscles nicely, accentuating his features. He slipped a belt through the loops of his jeans, though it was not needed. They hung snuggly on his hips. A large CR belt buckle pressed against his waist. His friends always said it was gaudy, but he really liked it.
Kirishima was in the process of meticulously spiking his hair when a knock sounded at the front door. Shit. He checked the time on his phone, seeing that there was a message from Bakugou stating he was here.
"Come in!" he shouted from the bathroom. He heard the door open and close, and stepped out into the hallway. Bakugou was just walking into the living room as he did. Kirishima's breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of the blond.
Somehow, he was even more beautiful when fully clothed. Bakugou was wearing those black-rimmed glasses again. His blond bangs brushed across the top of them, fanning over his forehead. He had on a long-sleeved black button-down, with the top two buttons undone. It was tucked neatly into a pair of black jeans with rips on the thighs. There was a gold chain bracelet on his wrist and a skull ring on his pointer finger. Bakugou had red studs in his ears and what looked like eyeliner fanning out to make his long, beautiful lashes even prettier.
(Source: Helix)
"Wow," breathed Kirishima, dropping the bottle of hair gel.
Bakugou chuckled, cocking a brow as he gave Kirishima onceover. "Good to see you too," he laughed.
Kirishima scrambled to pick up the bottle, cheeks dusted red. "I—um..."
"Are you ready to go?"
Kirishima bit the inside of his cheek and nodded. "Y-yeah. Just gotta put this away." He ran to the bathroom, putting back the tube of hair gel and checking himself in the mirror. He tugged at the spikes at the front of his hair, making sure they were properly in place.
When he was done, Kirishima walked back out into the living room to find Bakugou sitting on the couch. He got to his feet, folding his arms across that ample chest, and cocked his head to the side. "Ready?"
"Yeah." Kirishima nodded eagerly.
Bakugou waved his hand toward the door and Kirishima followed after him. He pressed his hand to the small of Kirishima's back, ushering him forward and a shiver ran up his spine. How was he such a gentleman on top of everything else?
"Where to?"
"What?" Kirishima blinked.
Bakugou shook his head. "Where are we going? I need to know in order to drive."
Kirishima's eyes widened. He hadn't realized Bakugou was literally picking him up. His cheeks burned. "The karaoke bar on xx street."
"Okay." Bakugou slipped on a nice pair of black boots and Kirishima paused. He probably shouldn't wear crocs...
He stepped into his red high-top sneakers and walked out the door of the apartment towards Bakugou's waiting car. His really, really nice car. Seriously, what did he do for a living? Maybe he'd finally get a chance to ask.
Bakugou took his seat behind the wheel and began the short drive to the karaoke bar. Kirishima was still stunned that they were going out together and he fidgeted with his hands in his lap.
"—names."
"What?" He snapped his head up. Bakugou glanced over at him as the light turned red.
"Your friends. What are their names?"
"Oh! Um, well I know my coworker Sero will be there. He's the one that told me about it. He has black hair. My classmate Kaminari, he's blond with a lightning bolt dyed into the side of his hair."
Bakugou cocked a brow. "Seriously?"
Kirishima nodded. "Yeah. Um... and I think Ashido. She has poofy pink curly hair. Oh, and my bro Tetsu—Tetsutetsu. He's on the judo team with me. His hair is silver, and he has bushy brows."
"Hm." Bakugou hummed.
"I think there's some others coming, but I'm not sure who. Tetsu will probably bring his S-O Kendou." Kirishima bit his bottom lip, watching as Bakugou nodded his head.
They pulled into the parking lot and Bakugou shut off the car. Kirishima was quick to undo his buckle, hopping out of the vehicle and running around the car to open the door for Bakugou. He could be chivalrous too. Bakugou chuckled at him, shaking his head as he shut the door. "Thanks," he muttered.
They walked into the building and Sero was standing next to the reception desk, flirting with the person behind the counter. He glanced in their direction when the doors opened, peeling himself away from the counter and waving. "Hey man."
"Hey," greeted Kirishima.
Kirishima glanced at Bakugou who looked stiff beside him. "Um, Bakugou Katsuki, Sero Hanta. Sero Hanta, Bakugou Katsuki." He waved his hand between them to do introductions. Bakugou grunted, taking Sero's outstretched hand.
"It's nice to meet you man." Sero smiled.
"Hey," replied Bakugou.
Noticing the tension, Kirishima cleared his throat. "Where are the others?"
Sero looked at him, frowning. "They're in room three. Everyone's here already. I was just waiting out here for you. Oh, what do you want to drink?”
"I'll just have a beer," said Kirishima.
"Water," replied Bakugou.
"You don't want something else?" asked Kirishima.
"I'm driving, remember?"
"Oh. Right, um... then I'll take a coke instead."
Bakugou rolled his eyes. "You can have a beer, idiot. You're not the one driving."
"Are you sure?"
Bakugou clapped a hand to his shoulder, giving him a shake. "I'm always sure. He'll have a beer."
Sero nodded in approval and the receptionist tapped on the tablet at the desk. "Your drinks will be brought to the room in a few minutes. The food is almost done."
They headed to their private room together and as Kirishima reached for the knob, Sero grabbed him by the arm. Kirishima couldn't help but notice a brief glare from Bakugou directed at Sero. "Hey. I gotta warn you really quick."
"About what?”
"Before you go in there—"
The door swung open, nearly hitting Kirishima in the face. He jumped back, surprised. "Oh, geez. Sorry, Kirishima." Kaminari stood in the doorway looking apologetic.
"It's cool." Kirishima took a step back, out of the way.
"Bathroom." Kaminari hurried down the hall in the direction of the bathroom and Kirishima stepped into the karaoke room where the rest of their group sat. He smiled, seeing his friends gathered, until crimson eyes settled on a familiar, loud blond who was in the middle of singing a song.
"Dude, what the hell?" he hissed, turning his attention to Sero.
"I tried to warn you."
"What's wrong?" asked Bakugou, stepping inside the room.
Kirishima clicked his tongue with a huff, frowning. Tetsutetsu jumped to his feet from his spot on the couch, hurrying over to them.
"Hey bro."
Kirishima narrowed his gaze at the silver-haired man. "Why is Monoma here?"
Tetsutetsu glanced back over his shoulder as Monoma hit the high note on some foreign song, drowning out their voices. "Dude, I'm sorry. He overheard me talking to Kendou and what was I supposed to say?"
"No," snapped Kirishima. Tonight was supposed to be perfect and now it was effectively ruined thanks to the intrusion of one Monoma Neito - the absolute worst person on the planet.
"Kirishima?"
Kirishima turned to look at him, having momentarily forgotten Bakugou's presence. "Sorry," he muttered. Kirishima glanced at Tetsutetsu and sighed. "Bakugou, Tetsu, Tetsu, Bakugou."
"Hey, bro!" Tetsutetsu greeted him cheerfully.
Bakugou gave him a leery glance. "Hey."
"Kirishima."
Kirishima looked up to see a head of purple hair peeking out from behind Tetsutetsu's tall frame. Monoma's patient and otherwise saintly, boyfriend Shinsou approached them to greet him. "Hey, Shinsou."
Shinsou nodded. "Sorry. Neito isn't always the most socially adept."
"It's fine," Kirishima groaned. It wasn't fine, but he wasn't going to complain about someone to their partner.
"Shinsou Hitoshi," he greeted Bakugou.
"Bakugou Katsuki." Bakugou turned to Kirishima. Can we sit?"
"Right. Yeah." Kirishima escorted Bakugou to an open spot on the bench that encircled the table. They slid in next to Kendou and the door to the room slammed open. Kaminari strutted back into the room, taking a seat by Ashido on the opposite side of the table.
The employee followed in after him, carrying a tray of appetizers and the drinks they ordered. She set the can of beer down in front of Kirishima and the glass of water by Bakugou. Sero winked at her, and her face flushed, then she hurried out of the room.
Ashido rolled her eyes.
Monoma finished his song and handed the mic to Ashido, then slid into the booth beside Shinsou. The rest of them finished their introductions and Bakugou lifted the glass of water to his lips.
"This the fuck buddy?" asked Monoma, pointing his thumb at Bakugou.
Bakugou choked.
Shinsou smacked him on the back and Kirishima glared at the blond. "Be nice," he chastised.
Bakugou looked at Kirishima, curiosity clear in his eyes. "You talk about me?"
"I—uh..." he stammered.
Scarlet eyes met gray as Bakugou steeled his gaze on Monoma. "We have sex, yeah." He licked his lips. "Great sex," added Bakugou.
This time, it was Kirishima's turn to choke, and he hadn't even been drinking his beer. His face flushed red, and the others in the room started laughing.
Kaminari slapped the table. "I like him!"
Bakugou snorted.
He’s so cute when he laughs!
The others took turns singing and slowly, Kirishima started to feel the alcohol warm his spirits. He leaned lazily into Bakugou's side and felt a hand slip behind his back, resting in his pocket. His cheeks burned, but he didn't move.
"So, Bakugou," Kendou started, reaching for a chicken leg. "What do you do?"
Finally!
"I'm in finance," said Bakugou plainly.
Sero scrunched his brows. "I thought you were a housekeeper?" He pointed his straw at Kirishima.
"I do that on the side."
"Finance not pay well?" asked Sero, teasingly.
Bakugou parted his lips into a smirk. "It pays well enough. Gives me enough time to do my hobbies.”
Kirishima choked on his beer. He pounded his fist against his chest coughing. Bakugou's hand moved from his pocket to gently pat Kirishima's back. "You good?" he asked.
Kirishima nodded. "Y-yeah. I'm gonna go to the bathroom." He got up, squeezing between the booth and the table to make his way toward the door.
Kirishima splashed some water on his face and ran his hands through his hair. His fingers tangled in the gelled locks, and he sighed. Aside from Monoma being Monoma, the night was going pretty well. Kirishima could only hope Bakugou felt the same way.
The bathroom door opened, and he looked up to see Bakugou walking in. "Hey. You gotta pee too?"
Bakugou smirked. "Not exactly." He walked up to Kirishima, pressing a hand to his chest and pushing him back toward one of the stalls.
"What are you doing?"
Bakugou licked his lips, and his finger hooked the collar of Kirishima's V-neck, tugging it down lower. "Thought we could enjoy some alone time for a few minutes." Kirishima knit his brows together confused.
"What do you mean?"
He was pushed into the stall and Bakugou locked the door behind them. It was cramped with the two of them in it. Bakugou's hands moved to the Crimson Riot belt buckle at the center of Kirishima's waist, giving it a tug.
Kirishima's ears pricked up, suddenly acutely aware of what was going on. "I thought we agreed no sex?"
"Who said anything about sex?" asked Bakugou, pulling down the waistband of Kirishima's jeans and boxers.
He was already semi-erect. Shit. They needed to get back to the group, but the second Bakugou took the length of Kirishima's dick in his hand, all thoughts of his friends were forgotten. He rubbed at the tip between his thumb and forefinger with one hand, the other massaging Kirishima's balls.
He whimpered at the touch, low moans rumbling through his body. Bakugou dropped to his knees and Kirishima's eyes widened. "What are you—it's dirty in here!" he chirped.
Bakugou chuckled, then parted his lips, swallowing the head of Kirishima's cock in his mouth.
"Fuck," Kirishima groaned, burying his fists in blond hair.
Bakugou licked at the underside of his dick, sucking down the shaft until his lips kissed Kirishima's pelvis. He was so deep. Kirishima could feel the head of his cock pressing against the back of Bakugou's throat.
Shit, fuck. It was too good. Bakugou bobbed his head up and down, the tips of his teeth raking lightly over Kirishima's cock. It sent a surge of electricity up his body. He fisted at Bakugou's hair harder, barely keeping himself on his feet. The blond had a way of making him weak in the knees.
"Ngh," he moaned. Bakugou's throat seemed to shape itself to Kirishima's cock. The way the muscles relaxed and contracted as he sucked Kirishima off had his head spinning. "F-fuck. B-Bakugou, I'm gonna..."
Bakugou gave his balls a light squeeze and it was the last bit of encouragement needed to send him over the tipping point. Drool dripped down Bakugou's and suddenly Kirishima was coming down the blond's throat. His eyes widened, surprised by the load, then he was sucking again. He swallowed down every last drop before freeing his mouth of Kirishima's dick.
"That was - shit." Kirishima gasped for air, breathing labored.
Bakugou stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked smug, scarlet eyes sparkling in the fluorescent light. He grabbed Kirishima by the hips, moving him to the side so that he was facing the toilet, then stepped behind him.
"What are you doing?"
"We're not done yet," he said in lieu of an answer. Bakugou unbuttoned his pants and pulled out that pretty dick of his.
Kirishima gulped, taking in the sight of it.
"Lean forward," Bakugou breathed into his ear.
Kirishima complied, leaning forward so that his hands were gripping the back of the toilet. There was a ripping sound and he looked back over his shoulder. "What is that?"
"Travel pack of lube."
"Do you always have lube in your pocket?"
"When I think I'll need it." Bakugou smirked, squeezing the contents of the small packet onto his dick, and lathering it in lube. He grabbed Kirishima by the hips and slid his cock between Kirishima's thighs with ease. Holy shit! Kirishima never realized how good it could feel to have a cock between his legs like this.
Bakugou thrusted, the length of his dick rubbing against Kirishima's taint and balls. Their skin slapped together loudly, and Kirishima had to tighten his grip on the toilet to keep from falling over.
He let out another moan and suddenly there were fingers thrust into his mouth. "You gotta be quieter, babe. I love the sound of you moaning from how good I am, but if you make too much noise, someone will come in here."
Kirishima was gagging on the fingers, but he felt compelled to suck on them.
"That's better," praised Bakugou.
He could feel that tight heat beginning to spread in his abdomen again and his balls clenched. "B-Baku-Bakugou."
"Hang on, baby. Hang on." Bakugou pulled his fingers out of Kirishima's mouth and gave the head of his cock a squeeze, cutting off the impending orgasm. "I'm almost there," he groaned, thrusting faster between Kirishima's thighs.
Kirishima whimpered, wanting so badly to cum again. "Pl-please," he cried.
Bakugou began to pump Kirishima's cock as his thrusts stilled. His body tensed, then there was a stream of cum shooting out from between Kirishima's thighs. Some of it landed on his pants and underwear, soaking Kirishima's clothes. The redhead gasped, then he too came.
They stood in the stall, panting, trying to catch their breath. Bakugou pressed a kiss to the juncture of Kirishima's throat, then reached for the toilet paper to clean up their mess. "Sorry about your pants," he apologized.
"It's cool," said Kirishima, head still spinning from the back-to-back orgasm. They stepped out of the stall and washed their hands. Kirishima bit his lip, looking at Bakugou sheepishly. "Thanks for coming."
"I'll cum for you any time."
Kirishima frowned. "Not like that."
Bakugou chuckled, giving Kirishima a pat on the shoulder. "I'm joking. Your friends aren't the worst."
They walked out of the bathroom to the sound of sniffling. Kirishima looked down to see a slumped Kaminari against the wall. "Kaminari?"
Kaminari lifted his head. "Kirishima?"
"What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.
Kaminari wiped his face, ridding his cheeks of his tears. "S-sorry. I thought you left."
"Had to pee..."
"Sure."
"Gonna tell us what's wrong, Sparky?" asked Bakugou.
Kirishima and Kaminari both looked at him, surprised by the nickname.
Kaminari sniffed. "Everyone was just being super coupley and ya' know... Shinsou.”
"Right," Kirishima nodded in acknowledgement.
"What's the deal with Eye Bags?"
Were terrible nicknames just a thing with Bakugou? Kirishima would have to file that away for later. "Kaminari likes Shinsou, but he started dating Monoma before he could confess."
Bakugou snorted. "What are you, fourteen?"
"Shut up!" Kaminari snapped back. "I take it back; I don't like him after all."
"Suit yourself." Bakugou shrugged.
"Come on, you two," pleaded Kirishima.
Kaminari sniffled again. "I don't wanna go back in there."
Kirishima nodded. "Okay. You wanna come back to my place?"
He nodded. "I'll just text Sero that you were really drunk and we're giving you a ride home."
"Is it really okay? I don't wanna interrupt."
Bakugou frowned and rolled his eyes. "It's fine. I'll give the two of you a ride back and head home. I've had enough fun for one night anyway."
"Thank you." Kirishima hugged him. He pulled out his phone, sending the message to Sero, then helped Kaminari to his feet.
They walked to the car together. On the way out, Bakugou stopped at the front desk and handed a card to the receptionist, then clicked the button on his keys to unlock the car.
Kaminari whistled at the sight of it. "Shit. This's fancy."
"Shut up and get in." When they got back to Kirishima's apartment, Bakugou reached across the seat, resting his hand on the door lock. "I had a good time tonight. See you on Monday?"
"Yeah!" Kirishima nodded eagerly.
Bakugou threaded his fingers through red hair, drawing Kirishima in close. He pressed their lips together for a chaste kiss, then unlocked the door. "Make sure that idiot drinks some water."
Kirishima nodded, hopping out of the car with the widest of grins. "Yeah. Good night."
Notes:
Somehow, I continue have no idea where this story is going or how long it will be. We are at 14k words of mostly smut and now there is a love triangle subplot that was never meant to be a thing. Ha... ??? I hope you're still enjoying it. If you follow the thread on Twitter, next update will have artwork included! I am very excited. If you don't, then you'll see it here eventually when I get to another good stopping point. Also, the mystery of what Bakugou does has been revealed... sort of... I would love to hear your thoughts.
Thanks,
@hyuge_chan ♥
Chapter 3
Notes:
The art in this chapter is brought to you by the lovely Jibu who is one of the sweetest friends I could ask for.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Bakugou: Tell Spark Plug to delete my number.
Me: What?
Bakugou: IDK why the fuck you gave him my number, but I want it gone.
Me: He said he just wanted to say thx.
Bakugou: Cool. Well now I want him to stop talking.
Me: Is it rly that bad?
Bakugou: Either he deletes my number or I’m not cleaning your apartment anymore.
Me: …
Me: but can we still have sex?
Bakugou: Delete my number from the walking battery pack’s phone or I’m inviting him to join for a threesome.
Kirishima looked up from his phone to Kaminari who was sitting beside him in class. The blond was absently doodling something in his notebook, not paying attention to the lecture. Kirishima eyed him for a minute, weighing the ultimatum, before decisively shaking his head. No. He did not want to have a threesome with one of his best friends.
“Gimme your phone,” he whispered, poking Kaminari in the side.
“Why?”
“Because I said so. Just give it.”
Kaminari scrunched up his brows. “No, man.”
“Dude!” whined Kirishima.
“Get your own phone.”
“Is there a problem, gentleman?” asked the stern voice of their professor, Aizawa. He had dark hair, bags under his eyes, and a glare that could make Hell freeze over.
The both of them glanced up, meeting their teacher’s dark gaze.
“No, sir,” said Kirishima, snatching Kaminari’s phone as he scrambled to organize his pages. The blond shot him a look and Kirishima tapped on the phone quickly. He slid it across the table, back to Kaminari, then glanced down at his own phone, typing quickly.
Me: Deleted!
Bakugou: Good. I guess you’ve earned a reward.
Kirishima gulped. His mind wandered at the prospects of what his reward might be. Knowing Bakugou, it was probably something dirty.
Dirty did not begin to cover it. When Kirishima came home to find his housekeeper turned sex acquaintance turned friend(?), he had not anticipated Bakugou being clothed – if you could call what he was wearing “clothed.”
He walked through the front door and slipped his feet out of his shoes, making his way down the hall toward the living room. Normally when he got home from school, Kirishima would find Bakugou just finishing up the cleaning, so he was surprised to see the living room absent. He glanced into the kitchen, and then the bathroom, both of which were vacant. He made his way to the bedroom to see a sliver of light coming through the gap in the door. Kirishima noticed movement and pushed the door open.
Inside his bedroom stood Bakugou, leaning over dresser with a fluffy pink feather-duster. He was wearing lingerie, maid lingerie, and Kirishima was certain his brain had short-circuited. The black and pink outfit left little to the imagination with the way it clung to his sculpted body. The short skirt rode up his ass, cheeks on full display, with the tip of his dick peeking out the front. The little apron on the front of the skirt was utterly useless. It wouldn’t be able to keep a real maid clean. The top was just poofy sleeves and a collar, black with pink trim matching the skirt, and a white bikini that barely covered that massive chest. Pink areolas peeked out from the side-boob as the tiny string of a strap was tied around Bakugou’s back. He wore a matching pink headband in his soft blond hair, and the prettiest of smug grins.
Kirishima couldn’t get over how those huge biceps looked like they were ready to burst out of the sleeves. If life was an Acme cartoon, his jaw would have literally hit the floor.
“You’re drooling,” said Bakugou.
Kirishima dropped to his knees, suddenly feeling weak. His mouth was dry, tongue thick in his throat, and words failed him. He tried to say something, anything, but he was a stuttering mess. Bakugou laughed and brushed the head of the feather-duster under Kirishima’s chin.
“Do you like your reward?” he teased.
Kirishima nodded. He licked his lips, feeling lightheaded. How could any one person look so perfect all the damn time? Those washboard abs would have taken years to develop. They rivaled Kirishima’s own, and he was in the athletics department at school. What did Bakugou do to get a body so ripped?
“Take your clothes off and kneel on the floor.”
Kirishima did as instructed. He undressed quickly and knelt in front of the blond; hands placed on the floor at his sides. Red hair cascaded down to his shoulders and his dick was at full mast just from the sight of Bakugou. He squirmed in place, struggling between wanting to follow directions and wanting to immediately devour the feast before him.
“That’s a good boy,” praised Bakugou. He stood in front of Kirishima, one hand on his hip, the other holding the feather-duster at his side. That perfect, pretty pink cock of his had already begun to rise under the skirt. It lifted up the front to expose the swell of his balls under the fabric, and those hardened nipple buds pressed firmly against the offending fabric of the bikini top. They were begging for attention and Kirishima wanted to oblige.
“C-can I – can I touch you?”
Bakugou cocked a brow and his lips parted into a smug grin. “Not yet. I have something else to show you too.”
Kirishima looked up at him in confusion, wondering what else there could possibly be, as if he hadn’t been rewarded enough. “What else…” he trailed off, crimson eyes drawn to the floor-length mirror that was leaning against the far wall of his bedroom. That wasn’t there before. He certainly didn’t own a mirror of that size. “Why?” asked Kirishima. It had to have come from Bakugou.
Bakugou leaned forward. He dropped to one knee and held the fluffy end of the feather-duster under Kirishima’s chin. “Remember when we talked about fucking in front of a mirror?”
Kirishima’s eyes widened. Bakugou had brought a mirror over specifically for that reason? “You’re – and me – that?” he stammered.
Bakugou nodded slowly and captured Kirishima’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, squishing his cheeks and drawing the redhead in for a light peck on the lips. “I want you to see exactly how pretty you are when I fuck you.”
Kirishima gulped.
Bakugou rose to his feet once more and tossed the feather-duster to the side. He took a step forward, the front of his very, very short skirt but a hair’s breadth away from Kirishima’s face. He smelled like a mix of musk and lemon cleaner. Kirishima inhaled deeply, and then felt a hand tangle in his hair. He looked up through dark lashes and disheveled bangs to see Bakugou licking his lips. “Suck it,” he said.
Kirishima nodded. He lifted the front of the skirt slightly, taking in the full sight of that pretty pink cock that was twitching in place. The tule hem of the skirt brushed against the bridge of Kirishima’s nose, tickling his cheeks, and he parted his lips. He sucked in a breath and took the head of Bakugou’s cock into his mouth. It was warm and tasted of precum. So delicious. He flattened his tongue, licking down the underside along the vein. His teeth scraped lightly against Bakugou’s skin, and he hollowed his cheeks to suck down the length of the cock. He was getting better at it, if he said so himself, and judging by the look on the blond’s face, he had proof.
Bakugou bit down on his bottom lip, canines peeking out, and he suppressed a moan. He kept insisting that Kirishima was the pretty one, but it was hard to believe when looking up at that face. Bakugou looked completely enamored by Kirishima taking him down to the base.
Kirishima’s lashes were wet with unshed tears and the hands in his hair tightened as Bakugou’s cock repeatedly pounded against the back of his throat. It was hard to breathe, and he had to try and relax his throat so that he would not gag. His cheeks were dusted red, and his body fell limp as Bakugou fucked into his mouth. Kirishima’s dick twitched eagerly between his legs, but his mind was too preoccupied with satisfying the blond before him.
Bakugou yanked Kirishima’s head back, freeing his cock from the warmth of Kirishima’s mouth. “Wh-why?”
“It’s okay,” said Bakugou. His dick was dripping with saliva and precum, and that devilish grin was still on his now-flushed face. “I just wanted you to get it wet for me.”
Kirishima blinked away his tears and watched as Bakugou leaned down, wrapping his arms around Kirishima’s chest, and lifting him to his feet. He was pushed to the bed, directly in front of the mirror. He leaned back on his palms, seeing himself fully in the length of the mirror and blushing at the sight of his erect dick reflecting back at him. Bakugou climbed onto the bed behind Kirishima and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. Kirishima shuddered. Large hands snaked around to the front of his body and cupped his chest. Bakugou palmed at Kirishima’s chest, fingers pinching his dark nipples until they were hardened buds.
Kirishima moaned at the touch, and he leaned back against Bakugou’s firm chest, feeling the top of the lingerie brush against his shoulder blades. “B-Bakugou…”
“Mm?” Bakugou hummed, continuing to fondle Kirishima’s chest as he sucked on the redhead’s throat, leaving a trail of dark marks all along the junction of his throat.
“More. Please.”
Bakugou smiled against his throat and slid one hand down the length of Kirishima’s body. “Get up on your knees,” he told Kirishima, hand landing on the redhead’s waiting cock.
Kirishima shuffled on the bed and moved from a seated position to a kneeling one. Bakugou wrapped his fingers around Kirishima’s cock, pumping languidly as his free hand moved to Kirishima’s backside. He sucked in a sharp breath, feeling a cold, wet finger push against the opening of his hole. Kirishima shut his eyes, leaning into Bakugou as he stretched him open.
“Open your eyes,” whispered Bakugou in his ear. “Look at yourself.”
Kirishima obliged. He opened his eyes to look at himself in the mirror, seeing the look of pure bliss on his face as Bakugou thumbed at the slit in his tip. His face was flushed red, breathing labored. Kirishima clenched his ass around Bakugou’s finger, moaning at the touch.
“See.” Bakugou kissed his neck again. “You look amazing, and I haven’t even started fucking you yet.” Another kiss. “Just wait until I’m inside you.” Another kiss.
Kirishima shuddered. “B-Bakugou. Please.”
“Patience,” said Bakugou into Kirishima’s throat. “We gotta open you up more, baby.”
Baby.
Kirishima’s chest rumbled as he moaned, feeling Bakugou insert another finger. He tugged lightly at Kirishima’s rim, pulling it open to accommodate his thick cock. “Fuck. Please.” He whined. Bakugou curved his fingers in deeper, brushing against the prostate and making Kirishima’s legs go weak.
“Don’t collapse yet, big boy.” Bakugou cooed.
He didn’t know what to do with his hands. They hung limply at his side, fingers balled into tight fists, knuckles turning white.
“Relax,” Bakugou reminded him. The skirt ruffled against Kirishima’s ass, and he could feel the length of Bakugou’s cock pressing between his cheeks. A third finger pushed in, and Kirishima was shaking. His balls swelled at the touch, and he bit his lip. “Watch yourself. Watch the look on your face as I enter you.” Bakugou pressed a kiss to Kirishima’s cheek and ran his tongue along his ear.
Fuck. It felt so good. “Ngh,” Kirishima moaned. Bakugou pulled his fingers free, and Kirishima’s muscles clenched on air, desperately seeking to be filled once more. “Hurry,” he begged.
Bakugou chuckled lightly against his skin, blowing cool air on Kirishima’s ear. “Whatever you say, baby.” The head of his cock pressed against Kirishima’s hole, then he was sucking in a breath as pressure built within him. Bakugou pushed in slowly and let go of Kirishima’s dick, grabbing him by the chin and pointing his face at the mirror. “Look,” he breathed.
And Kirishima did. He looked. He watched the changing of his expression as Bakugou inched in deeper. His body stretched around him to welcome Bakugou’s cock. He felt a pressure in his waist and Bakugou took him by the hips, holding Kirishima securely in place as he buried himself to the hilt. Kirishima would never consider himself pretty by any means, but as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, watching as Bakugou snapped his hips back and then forward. From this angle, it felt like he was being punched in the lungs each time Bakugou thrusted. Kirishima’s body would shudder, and his cock would bounce in place, untouched.
The hands gripping his hips dug deeply into his skin and his chest was flushed red. There were purple marks all along his shoulder and throat and tears clung to his lashes. No, Kirishima would not normally consider himself pretty by any means, but in this moment, seeing himself the way Bakugou saw him, he understood. He reached behind his back to wrap his arms around Bakugou’s neck for support. Kirishima bounced up and down, riding Bakugou’s cock and whimpering as each thrust assaulted his prostate, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. “B-Bakugou…” he cried, lip quivering.
Bakugou bit down on Kirishima’s shoulder, sinking his teeth into the flesh. Kirishima cried. There was a mixture of pain and pleasure that washed through him and then he was coming, cords of white spraying onto the bed. His body went limp. The only thing that kept him upright was Bakugou’s hands on his hips. “Did I satisfy the master of the house?” Bakugou teased, continuing his thrusts. He was unrelenting.
Kirishima whimpered in approval.
“Good – ngh.” Bakugou pinched his brows together and bit his bottom lip as his pace became more frantic.
Kirishima watched it all from the mirror, seeing the look on Bakugou’s face from behind his back. He was amazing – breathtaking. Bakugou groaned and squeezed Kirishima’s hips harder. It hurt, but not much. The frantic thrusts stuttered to a halt and then warmth spread within Kirishima. Bakugou’s chest rose and fell in rapid succession from his shallow breaths, and he dropped his forehead to Kirishima’s shoulder. Lips brushed against his skin, then there was an emptiness as the blond pulled out.
Warmth trailed down the inside of his thigh as cum leaked out of his ass. Kirishima dropped into an exhausted heap on the bed, legs drained. He felt tired after kneeling for so long. Bakugou laid down next to him, brushing sweat-soaked bangs out of Kirishima’s face. “What did you think?”
Kirishima exhaled with his eyes shut. “That… mm…” Kirishima hummed lazily. “S’good.”
“Tired?” Bakugou chuckled.
“A little,” admitted Kirishima.
“How about we go wash up, and then you can rest,” offered Bakugou.
Kirishima cocked a brow and opened one eye to look at Bakugou. “You don’t need to leave right away?”
Bakugou shook his head. “Not today.”
Kirishima perked up at that, feeling suddenly awake. “I’d like that.”
Bakugou sat up and poked his tongue out from between his lips in concentration. He tucked one arm behind Kirishima’s knees and the other behind his back, scooping him up into his arms.
“Whoa!” Kirishima clung to Bakugou’s shoulders, holding on tight. Bakugou had already proven he could lift Kirishima, but it was still surprising. He was a big guy who weighed a lot. He did not think anyone was capable of carrying him around, and yet, he did. Bakugou took him to the bathroom, sitting him down in the tub and turning on the tap.
The water was cold at first, then hot as the tub filled. Bakugou peeled off the maid outfit and stepped into the small space, sliding behind Kirishima in the tub. Kirishima leaned back, letting the hot water wash over him, and taking comfort in the firm chest at his back. He could feel Bakugou’s breathing against his skin, and his eyes shut lazily once more. “This is nice. Thank you,” he murmured.
“No problem,” said Bakugou, pressing a kiss into Kirishima’s hair.
Notes:
I wanted to add to the thread more before posting this chapter, but I was getting antsy and really wanted to share it here with everyone else. Hopefully I'll have another update soon.
Thanks,
@hyuge_chan ♥
Chapter Text
"Hey Bakugou—"
The phone rang, cutting off Kirishima's train of thought. He watched as the blond set down the rag he was holding to walk across the room to where his phone sat. After all this time, it was still strange to watch him clean in the buff.
"Tch." Bakugou groaned.
"The fuck do you want?" he answered the phone, in lieu of a greeting.
Kirishima could hear a muffled voice come through the speaker and he guessed it to be a woman. She sounded impatient and Bakugou pinched his brows into a deep frown, his forehead wrinkling as he did so.
"No. Absolutely not. I swear to fucking God Camie, if you sell those stocks, I will terminate our contract. You are 𝘯𝘰𝘵 my goddamn friend. Are you high? No! That doctor husband of yours is my client, not you. You are a pain in the ass."
Kirishima watched with his jaw slack as Bakugou berated the woman on the phone named Camie. He was pacing in circles around the room, his hand wrapped in blond hair, and his dick swinging as he went.
"Not in this economy. Fuck that. Excuse me? What does that even mean?"
"Bakugou?" asked Kirishima, hesitant to interrupt the conversation, but it wasn't polite to speak to a woman like that.
Bakugou glanced back at him, brow cocked. "What? No. It is none of your business. Nobody."
Ouch.
"I'm hanging up the phone. Do not sell those stocks."
Kirishima turned away, shoulders slouched, as Bakugou hung up the phone. He was a "nobody." He should have known – he did know, but Kirishima had also thought they had gotten a lot closer as of late. Bakugou had frankly less Bakugou.
"What's eating you?" asked Bakugou, eyeing him. "Other than not me?"
Kirishima turned back and shrugged. "Nothing."
Those scarlet eyes narrowed at him, unwavering. "Kirishima."
He sighed. "It's dumb."
"Just fucking tell me."
"Because I'm a nobody."
"What?
Kirishima shook his head, red bangs falling into his eyes from his slowly fading hairdo. "It doesn't matter, because I'm nobody."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" barked Bakugou.
"Your phone call just now!"
"Wha - oh. Seriously?" Bakugou shook his head.
He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. Kirishima stepped back, bumping into one of the dining table chairs. They were nose-to-nose when Bakugou stopped his approach. He stretched his arm out, grabbing the back of one of the chairs, locking Kirishima in place.
"What are you doing?" asked Kirishima.
Bakugou glowered at him. "Look, you're not nobody. I just don't like dealing with Camie. She's nosy and will definitely want to meet you if I say something."
"I get it." Kirishima pursed his lips. "You don't want me to meet your friends."
"What?" Bakugou snapped.
"We're only having sex so it would be weird."
The look that crossed Bakugou's face was a mixture of anger and disappointment. "Do you really believe that?"
"Excuse me?"
"Do you really think we're only having sex?"
"Aren't we?"
Bakugou sighed. "Wow. Okay." He moved his other arm to the other side of Kirishima, boxing him in against the chairs. "If we're only having sex, then we might as well get to it."
He pressed a hand to Kirishima's chest, forcing him back onto the table. Kirishima laid there, half on the table, confused as to why Bakugou had seemed so mad. He fumbled for something to grab onto for support as the blond fucked into him angrily. Tears stained his cheeks and he gasped for air as every thrust punched his breath out of his lungs.
Bakugou had him folded over, as his unrelenting pace quickened. Fingernails dug harshly into Kirishima's thighs, and he choked on a whimper. Tears pooled within the shell of his ears, and Kirishima cried as warm semen sprayed across his stomach.
Bakugou stuttered to a halt, his fingers digging deeper into Kirishima's tender skin, and he bit down on the redhead's thigh as he came. When he looked up to meet Kirishima's red-rimmed gaze, he froze, frowning. "What's wrong?" He pulled out, cum spilling onto the linoleum. He ran a thumb gingerly along the underside of Kirishima's eyes, wiping away the tears that clung to his lashes. "These aren't happy, sexy tears."
Kirishima sniffled, and dropped his legs so that they were dangling off the table. "You just-" he hiccupped, "-seemed so mad."
Bakugou sighed, and slipped a hand behind Kirishima's back, helping him into an upright position. Kirishima sniffled again and wiped his face with the back of his hand.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. You didn't say 'cloud.'"
"You're not mad?" asked Kirishima.
He choked back a sob and Bakugou patted him on the cheek. The blond's brows were pulled together with worry, but he parted his lips and said, "no, I'm not mad."
A sigh of relief escaped Kirishima and he leaned into the touch.
Things seemed to change a bit after that. Kirishima hadn't noticed at first. It was subtle, unassuming. Bakugou would come over to clean like usual, but there would be new things in his apartment with each visit.
The chipped plates were replaced, his crappy thrift store cookware was brand new, the mismatched towels in the bathroom were no longer frayed from overuse or stinking of mildew. And the sex, well, that had been particularly soft. Bakugou didn't do anything without Kirishima's explicit consent. There were even days he didn't try to initiate sex at all.
They still talked often enough, but it felt like a rift had formed and he wasn't sure what to do about it.
"Have you tried talking to him?" asked Tetsutetsu as he stuck out his leg and pulled Kirishima toward the mat in a hiza-guruma.
Kirishima landed face first. He stuck out his hands to brace himself for the fall and rolled over so that he could stand up. His Gi was disheveled, and he tightened the belt to prepare for another attack. "And say what?" he asked, breathy.
"I dunno man. Why aren't you dicking me down like before?" Tetsutetsu shrugged. "I don't speak gay."
"Shh! Geez, not so loud." Kirishima glanced over his shoulder to see the rest of his team too busy with their own training to notice or overhear.
Tetsutetsu rolled his eyes. "I don't get your relationship. If it bothers you that much, why don't you just ask him to be your boyfriend."
"I can't do that!" Kirishima protested. "And why not?"
"Well... because..." He didn't really have an answer to it, Kirishima just knew there was no way Bakugou would agree.
Tetsutetsu shook his head. He grabbed Kirishima by his arm and the collar of his Gi, throwing him over his shoulder in a Seoi-nage and back down onto the mat. "You're sloppy today, and that's coming from me. You know we have a competition next week, bro."
"Shut up." Kirishima swatted away the outstretched hand and stood on his own. "I'll be fine like always." He slammed his fists together. "There's no way I'm going to be beaten in an actual match."
"If you say so."
Their training for the day ended with a five-kilometer run on the track field and Kirishima was exhausted by the time he was done. He showered quickly, too tired to bother properly drying his hair, and walked out of the locker room with his bag slung over his shoulder. Tetsutetsu joined him a moment later, and when they walked out of the gym, Kendou was waiting for them both.
"Hey," Kendou greeted, sidling up to Tetsutetsu.
"Hey," Tetsutetsu replied, smiling back.
Kirishima nodded. "Hey Kendou. Done with class?"
"Yeah," they said.
The three of them made the walk across campus toward the main exit. Kirishima had his hands shoved in the front pockets of his sweatpants, and his shoulders were slouched as he tried to figure out what to do with the Bakugou situation.
"Oh-em-gee!" A high-pitched voice trilled.
Kirishima looked up to see a tall, blonde woman with long hair and a perfect standing in front of an expensive sedan. Her heels clicked on the concrete, and she looked as if she had stepped straight off the runaway. Her makeup was perfect, clothes immaculate. Kirishima was quite sure he had never seen a woman that pretty before. Her plump lips parted into a grin, and she slapped at the tinted window on the car. "Izuboo, it's like totes him!"
The window rolled down to reveal a head of curly green hair peeking out from behind the door. She ran up to Kirishima surprisingly quickly for the height of the stilettos she was wearing and wrapped a pair of perfectly manicured hands around his bicep. "Say cheese!"
"What?" asked Kirishima, too stunned to grasp the situation.
The woman snapped a selfie on her phone, then tapped to send a message.
"Do I know you?"
Blonde brows raised in curiosity, and she smirked. "Not yet, but any boytoy of Katsuki-baby's, is a boytoy of mine. Let's go."
"What?" He repeated, stunned.
She clicked her tongue, then glanced back at Tetsutetsu and Kendou. "You can like, come too if you'd like."
"Who are you?"
The corners of her mouth turned up into a wide grin. "Your new bestie, babe. I'm Camie." Camie stuck out her tongue with a wink.
What’s the saying? Never get in a car with a stranger? Despite the fact that Kirishima could fold Camie like a pretzel, and “Izuboo” wasn’t a hell of a lot bigger, he knew it was a dumb idea to do as he was told. But when Camie said she wanted to take him somewhere, curiosity got the better of him. Bakugou had been arguing with her on the phone before, and Kirishima wanted to know about their relationship. Hell, he wanted to know about Bakugou in general. It was still so hard to get him to share anything about who he was outside of Kirishima’s apartment.
Camie had noticed the hesitance and offered for Tetsutetsu and Kendou to come with as well. The pair shared a nervous glance between each other, but followed after Kirishima, not wanting him to go alone. So, there they sat, sandwiched into the backseat of the sleek black sedan, as Camie turned in the passenger seat to speak to them from the front.
“Where are you taking us?” asked Kirishima. He could feel the nervous energy radiating off his friends as they tapped messages to each other on their phones.
Camie pressed her full, pink lips together and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “To my house. There’s going to be a party and I know it’s like the only way Katsuki-baby’ll come.”
“Camie, this is a really bad idea. You know how pissed Kacchan is gonna be.” said Izuboo from the driver’s seat.
She rolled her eyes at him. “Katsuki’s always mad. You should know that better than anyone.”
Kirishima watched as they bickered. It was all so strange. Sitting in the front seat of the car were two people that knew Bakugou in a way that Kirishima might never get to experience. They talked about him with a sense of familiarity. Camie referred to him by his given name. That was incomprehensible to Kirishima. For the most part, they were just employer and employee. He felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach, and he suddenly had the urge to retch in the backseat of the car.
“Who are you? How do you know Bakugou? How did you know who I was?” he asked, putting a halt to their bickering.
Camie licked her lips and sighed through her teeth. “Todoroki Camie.” She held out her well-manicured hand for Kirishima to shake it. Were hands humanly capable of being that soft? “I met Katsuki years ago at university. He likes to pretend we’re not friends. Now he’s my husband’s financial adviser.”
Green eyes locked on Kirishima through the rearview mirror. There was an uneasy expression across the freckled face of the man driving the car. “Midoriya Izuku,” he introduced himself. “I’ve known Kacchan since we were kids. We work together now.”
“Okaaaay,” Kirishima dragged out the word, his eyes darting between the two of them. “Why am I—”
Camie’s phone started to ring in her lap. A wicked grin spread across her lips, and she laughed.
“I never thought this would be how I died,” said Midoriya. The ringing stopped, and the phone dimmed. “You’re just gonna ignore him?”
“Lettin’ him sweat a bit.”
Kirishima’s pocket vibrated and he reached into it to pull out his phone. Bakugou’s name was on the display, and he glanced up at Camie. She just shrugged, so he accepted the call. There was a beat of silence, then, “are you okay?” Bakugou’s voice sounded strained, like he was using every ounce of willpower not to scream.
“I’m fine,” said Kirishima.
There was another pause. “Put the bitch on the phone.” Kirishima had never heard Bakugou sound so angry before. Afraid to disobey, he held the phone out to Camie.
“He wants to talk to you.”
She sighed, then took it and held it to her ear. “Hey babe.”
The call wasn’t on speakerphone, but it might as well have been. In the small confines of the car, they could all hear every word clearly. “Do. Not. Fucking. ‘Hey babe,’ me. Camie, what the absolute fuck?”
Camie clicked her tongue. “I had to get your attention somehow. You know this party’s important, and you kept hiding Eijiboo from us.”
“Kirishima has nothing to do with this! You can’t just kidnap a person.”
Camie turned her eyes on Kirishima and the others. “Eijiboo, were you forced against your will to get in this car?”
“Um, no…”
“See? Plus, his friends are here.”
“What friends?”
“The extra hot, muscley, silver-haired one and a pretty brunette. They’re gonna come to the party too.”
They all shared a look of uncertainty as Bakugou’s voice reverberated through the speaker. “Take them home. I will go to your stupid fucking party but leave Kirishima and his friends out of it.”
“No-can-do’sville baby doll. We’re already pulling up to the house.” House was an understatement. A gate opened, letting the car onto the grounds of a mansion. Did they have castles in Tokyo? The house looked big enough to be one.
“Deku! Why the fuck did you let Camie rope you into this bullshit?”
Midoriya glowered at the phone. “Kacchan, she literally twisted my arm.”
“Be a fucking man for once. FUCK!” There was another moment of silence, then a soft, “put Kirishima back on the phone.”
Camie smirked, obviously satisfied with the outcome. “Here babe.” She handed Kirishima his phone back.
Hesitantly, he lifted it back up to his ear. “Hello?”
“You shouldn’t have gone with them.” Bakugou spoke in a low volume, only loud enough for Kirishima to hear through the phone.
“I’m sorry.”
There was a sigh. “Don’t listen to whatever nonsense they say. I’ll be there soon, and then I’ll take you and your friends home. And if any of the pretentious assholes at the party bother you, just tell them that their portfolio is weak and walk away.”
“Um, okay?”
“I’ll see you soon.” Bakugou hung up the phone as Midoriya pulled the car into a large garage, just off the main house. He got out of the front seat and opened the door for Camie, then moved to the rear door to let Kirishima, Tetsutetsu, and Kendou out as well.
“I’m gonna go make myself scarce.”
“Izuku, babe. Katsuki’s all bluster.”
Midoriya looked unconvinced. “He won’t hit you. He will hit me. I only agreed to this hairbrained scheme of yours because I know how important it is for him to be here.”
“Whatevs.” Camie waved her finger. “You three, follow me. I’ll have to get you changed before the party starts. Can’t have you dressed like that.”
Kirishima glanced down at the clothes he had on. His and Tetsutetsu’s gym bags were retrieved from the trunk by Midoriya, who handed them their bags before scurrying off. “I don’t have anything else to wear.” At least not anything suitable for a party in a mansion.
“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “You both look about my husband’s size.” Her gaze shifted to Kendou, giving them a onceover. “Sorry, what was your name?”
“Kendou Itsuka.”
“Right. You have a great figure, Itsuka.”
“Thanks?”
“Anytime, babe. I’m sure Fuyumi has something you can wear.” Camie looked thoughtful for a moment as she led them all to the front door of the estate. She pushed the door open to reveal a massive foyer that was buzzing with people. There were caterers and waitstaff setting up food, while decorators hung lights and tulle.
Kirishima’s eyes lit up, watching everyone move around quickly. “What kind of party is this?”
Camie turned to face them, smiling. “A birthday party, duh.”
“Wait, all that fighting was about some birthday party?” asked Tetsutetsu.
There was a murmur in the room, and Kirishima looked around to see the staff stop what they were doing to eavesdrop. Camie frowned. “It’s not just some birthday. It’s for my father-in-law, Todoroki Enji, Katsuki’s boss. And there’s always like, tons of important clients at these things. It’s more about networking than anything. It’s like, the most important party each year for his career. Even my husband makes an appearance, despite the fact that he has issues with his father.”
Wait,” Kendou held her hand up, “Bakugou works for Todoroki Financial?”
“Duh.”
Kendou looked at Kirishima, confused. “Bakugou works for the biggest financial advisory in the country, and also cleans your apartment basically for free?”
Kirishima’s blood ran cold. Bakugou was an enigma wrapped inside an enigma. Every time he thought he was learning something new about the blond that cleaned his home, he was left with more questions than answers. Just who was Bakugou Katsuki?
“Anyway, we need to get you presentable. Come along.” Camie gestured for them to follow her, and she led them up a grand staircase to a long hallway. The doors were decorated ornately, and her heels clicked with every step. “Stick close. It’s easy to get lost in here if you wander off.” She warned.
Kirishima’s mind was spinning. It felt like he had entered into a new world by getting into the backseat of that sedan. Jealousy led him here. He was worried about the woman on the phone that Bakugou referred to by name, and said woman was apparently a married friend from university. If Bakugou was as mad as he was on the phone, what would he be like when he finally arrived? Would that anger be directed at Kirishima as well?
He should be doing homework. Instead, he was burdening his friends by getting them roped into whatever this was. Chaos came in the form of a golden apple. Kirishima just wasn’t sure if that apple was Bakugou Katsuki or Todoroki Camie.
Notes:
Whoops, it's been awhile since I last updated this on AO3, but I didn't want the chapter to only be like 1k words. So here we are. (I also edited the last couple chapters because this fic is unbeta'd and it shows. Ha...) Anyway, somehow this PWP ended up being 20k and is still ongoing and has a plot now, despite me not knowing what it is. I am just as in the dark as the rest of you. Thank you for all the wonderful and hilarious comments on the previous chapters. I hope you enjoyed this new one as well. This fic updates in little spurts on Twitter first, so if you're impatient, you can read the thread here.
@hyuge_chan ♥
Chapter Text
The three of them had been ushered into a large bedroom bigger than Kirishima’s entire apartment. Camie motioned for them to take a seat while she went browsing through a massive walk-in closet. She disappeared among the rows of outfits, leaving Kirishima alone with his friends. Tetsutetsu leaned over from the chair he was seated in, eyes wide in disbelief.
“Dude, what are we doing here?”
Kirishima shook his head. He really didn’t know. Bakugou was pissed that he was here, and he didn’t want to make the blond mad. Things were already weird between them, now it was sure to be worse. “I don’t know. I’m sorry I dragged you guys into this.”
“We—”
“They’re Armani!” Camie trilled as she came walking back into the room with two suits draped over her arm. One was a sleek black, while the other navy. “Black for Eiji and navy for… I’m sorry, what was your name?” She raised a brow, looking at Tetsutetsu as she handed him the navy suit.
“Tetsutetsu.”
“Okay, Tetsu babe, navy for you. It’ll compliment your hair and eyes. Speaking of…” Camie shifted her gaze to Eijirou, frowning at his disheveled, spiked locks. “Eiji, babe, we gotta do something about that hair.”
“What’s wrong with my hair?” he whined.
Camie shook her head with a soft chuckle. “You can’t go to a party like this with hair like that. Get changed, then I’ll fix it.”
Kirishima grumbled in protest.
“Itsuka, dear, dress or pants?” Camie leaned against Kirishima to get a better look at Kendou who was sitting in the chair with their arms folded across their chest.
Kendou pursed their lips, then said, “pants, please.”
Camie hummed to herself, then practically floated over to Kendou to drag them away. “We’ll be back in a few minutes. Fuyumi should have something more accommodating to Itsuka’s proportions. You boys better be dressed by the time we get back!”
Kirishima watched as Camie and Kendou disappeared from the room. His gaze wandered to the expensive black suit laid out on the bed before him and gulped. It would take him years to afford something like this. What if he ruined it. “Dude, I’m gonna shit my pants.”
Tetsutetsu frowned. “What about me? At least your boyfriend apparently makes bank.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Kirishima corrected, feeling that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach again.
“Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”
“He’s not!” Kirishima squeaked.
Tetsutetsu rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Just get dressed before Malibu Barbie comes back. She smiles way too much. I don’t want to find out if these are the type of rich people that hunt the poor for sport.”
Kirishima looked aghast, all the color in his face drained. “People don’t actually do that.”
Tetsutetsu cocked a brow. “Can you prove it?”
Technically, Kirishima could not, which left him feeling even more unsettled. He shook his head and picked up the suit, running his fingers over the sleek black fabric. Tetsutetsu was already down to his boxers when Kirishima started to pull his own shirt off. He prayed to whatever gods were listening that no harm would befall the Armani suit.
Several minutes later, Camie and Kendou came walking back into the room after a brief knock on the door. Kirishima was in the process of buttoning the vest on his borrowed suit when they walked in. Kendou was wearing this matching navy pant suit that complimented Tetsutetsu’s suit well. It had long flowy sleeves and some weird lapel tie thing that Kirishima couldn’t quite wrap his head around the purpose of, but he couldn’t deny that they looked good.
“Beautiful,” Tetsutetsu breathed.
Kendou rolled their eyes, with a light blush spreading across their face. “Whatever. You look pretty good yourself.”
“Hair time!” Camie chirped, walking over to Kirishima with a come in hand. Reluctantly, he took a seat while she brushed through his red locks. “Wow your hair is like, super healthy. I spend hundreds at the salon, and it’s still fried.” Kirishima smiled as she pulled his hair back into a low bun at the base of his skull. “There. Better.” She patted his shoulder then turned to the three of them with her hands on her hips. “Okay, the three of you can just, like, chill and eat food and stuff. There’ll be live music too. Katsuki should be here soon.”
Kirishima glanced down at the very expensive suit he was wearing. “The clothes?”
Camie waved her hand, completely unfazed. “Just keep it. My beau hardly wears them anyway, and we have tons.”
Kirishima was pretty sure his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets. “K-keep it? Why…?”
“We don’t have time to debate. I’ll send all your clothes to be dry cleaned after the party. Enjoy the clothes. We have to head down to the ballroom now. I have to help my sister-in-law greet guests.” Camie ushered them out of the bedroom and down the long corridor once more. They walked back down the grand staircase and she pointed to a set of large double doors to the right. “Party is in there. Do not leave the room. If you have to use the bathroom, there are guest restrooms on the north side of the hall.”
Kirishima pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth in concentration, trying to figure out what direction north was in the mansion. Camie shooed them away as she went to stand beside a woman with white and red hair by the front door. They walked into the massive ballroom as instructed and Kirishima was blown away to see so many upscale people in one place.
“Is that the Prime Minister?” Kendou choked.
Kirishima and Tetsutetsu followed her gaze to see the Prime Minister speaking to a gentleman with long blond hair waving his arms expressively. “Shit.”
“Holy fuck.”
This party was worlds out of their league. Kirishima gulped. His eyes darted around the room taking in all the familiar faces he had only ever seen on television, and then let his gaze settle on the buffet table a few meters away. “I’m, uh… I’m gonna get some food. You guys want anything?”
“Bar,” said Kendou, who took quick strides in the direction of the small popup bar.
“I’ll go with Itsuka.”
Kirishima nodded and made his way over to the buffet table alone. He picked at the assortment of appetizers with tongs and placed them on his plate. There were so many foods he’d never seen before. Some of the options he was unsure if they were meant to be food or decoration and had to watch other guests to be sure they were safe to eat.
“Having fun?” asked Midoriya as he sidled up next to Kirishima at the buffet table.
Kirishima forced a smile. “It’s okay.”
“You don’t have to lie,” said Midoriya with a chuckle. “Kacchan hates these stuffy parties too. It’s why Camie went to rather unorthodox measures to ensure he showed up.”
One of the waitstaff walked by with a tray of champagne and offered Kirishima a glass. He took it with a small thank you. “Does he always talk to his friends like that?”
Midoriya gave Kirishima a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “He is truly insufferable, but he acts that way because he knows we’re all unfazed by it. You should see the reaction he has to Shouto.”
“Who?” Kirishima raised a brow.
Midoriya gestured to the mansion. “Todoroki Shouto, he’s Camie’s—”
“Dekuuu.” A low growl came from the other side of the table and Kirishima turned to see a feral looking Bakugou standing behind them with his hands balled into fists at his side.
Midoriya took a step back. “Kacchan, please. I had nothing to do with it. You know you can’t cause a scene here.”
“Nothing to do with it my ass. How else would conniving bitch have gotten Kirishima’s information?” Busted. Midoriya backed away briskly, all but sprinting away from them. Bakugou let out an exasperated sigh and narrowed his angry scarlet eyes at Kirishima. “And you.”
“Me?” asked Kirishima dumbly.
Bakugou stepped around the table until they were chest-to-chest. “What grown ass man gets in a car with complete strangers?”
“But they said they knew you!”
“They could have been murders!”
Kirishima frowned. “I have a blackbelt and Camie is like the size of my arm.”
“Not. The. Point.” Bakugou ground out.
“Oh, please, Katsuki. You’re so dramatic.” The distinct clicking of Camie’s heels drew Kirishima’s attention toward the woman who was now clinging to a tall man with white and red hair. Her hands were wrapped neatly around his bicep and he toward over her small stature. She parted her plump, red lips and shifted her attention to Kirishima, ignoring the obscenities Bakugou was slinging in her direction. “Eiji babe, this is my husband Natsuo.”
Now, if Kirishima Eijirou didn’t already know he was a raging homosexual, one look at Todoroki Natsuo would confirm that questioning. Bakugou was big and plump in all the right places, but Natsuo was something else. Camie smirked, shooting him a knowing glance. “Yeah, he’s an eleven, unlike Katsuki,” she whispered close to his ear. Eijirou gulped, his mouth suddenly dry.
Bakugou shot daggers at her with his eyes.
“Hey man, it’s nice to meet you.” Natsuo held his hand out for Kirishima to take. He nodded absently as he took the outstretched hand and shook it.
“Y-yeah. Hi. I’m Kirishima Eijirou. I’m, ah… I’m a friend of Bakugou’s.”
Natsuo gave Bakugou a look who pointedly ignored it with a pout. “It’s nice to meet you. Sorry it was under such unsavory circumstances. Camie gets a little carried away at times.”
“A little,” spat Bakugou sarcastically.
“Anyway, I hope you and your friends enjoy the party regardless.”
“Is it really okay for us to be here?” asked Kirishima.
Natsuo glanced around the room. “Any excuse to spend my bastard father’s money is good to me. The more the merrier.” Kirishima looked at him puzzled, but Natsuo just waved it off. “The suit looks good on you too, by the way.”
Shit. Kirishima was not ready for a blow like that. He quickly found himself swooning for his sex-friend’s friend’s husband, and it made his brain hurt. He wet his lips and nodded sheepishly. “Thanks.” Kirishima downed the rest of the glass of champagne and set it on a tray of empties, then forced a small at the other three. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna head to the bathroom.”
“Carry on.”
He walked away as he heard Bakugou make a snarky remark to Camie about how he would tell her all of his feelings regarding what happened after the party. Kirishima let out a shaky breath and weaved through rows of tables and crowds of gathered guests to head in the direction of the bathrooms.
Which way was north?
Kirishima had managed to find the bathroom, but when he walked back into the hallway, he was a bit turned around. He glanced up and down the long hall trying to remember which direction he had come from. Everything was so unfamiliar and big. The ceilings were high, the halls were wide, and there were doors everywhere. Even in the expensive suit, Kirishima still felt incredibly out of place, like a small child playing dress-up and getting into mommy’s makeup. He furrowed his brows and opened a door, but it did not lead back toward the party. Kirishima opened another, and another, each time feeling a sense of dread wash over him as he slowly realized he was lost.
He could call Bakugou, but how would he even explain where he was at? Not to mention, this party was supposed to be really important for him, so would it be fair to pull Bakugou away from the other guests? Kirishima stood alone in the hall, bouncing in place as he pulled out his phone and stared at the screen. He tapped on the screen, going to Bakugou’s name in his contacts list, then hesitated. Kirishima’s gaze lingered on the gray, generic icon, before locking his screen and sticking his phone back in his breast pocket. He sighed and carded his hand through his hair until the tips of his fingers connected with the hair tie holding his red locks in place. “I should really go home,” he said to himself.
Kirishima turned to check another one of the doors when he suddenly felt a hand around his wrist. He was being tugged backwards into one of the other rooms, and then the door was shutting before he could process what was going on. He spun around, surprised to find Bakugou there with him. “What are you doing here?”
Bakugou narrowed his gaze and his hand slid from Kirishima’s wrist to his hand, holding it lightly. “You didn’t come back.”
“I got a little turned around.”
Bakugou pursed his lips. “I figured as much. This place is a hellhole. Why didn’t you call me?”
Kirishima stared down at their joined hands and frowned. His heart pounded heavily in his chest. “I didn’t want to bother you. You have important clients and stuff to talk to.”
Bakugou huffed. His free hand wrapped around Kirishima’s chin, lifting his face to meet Bakugou’s gaze. “You’re never a bother, idiot. Those old farts can get fucked. They’re a pain in the ass to deal with when I’m working. I especially don’t want to talk to them outside of work.”
“I don’t get it,” sighed Kirishima.
“Get what?”
He waved his hand around, exasperated. “Why you do the housekeeping thing basically for free when you have a well-paying job.”
Bakugou wet his lips, looking Kirishima dead in the eyes. “I told you, I do it because I want to. It’s like a hobby of sorts. Not everything has to be about money.”
“What about me?” This wasn’t the conversation Kirishima wanted to have, not here, not now, but it had been playing in his mind over and over again. Bakugou was so private about his personal life, and yet he knew so much about Kirishima, so it was hard to understand how he fit into it all.
“Of all the places to have this conversation…”
“What do you—” Kirishima stopped in his tracks, eyes widening as he took in the surroundings past Bakugou’s face. His cheeks turned ruby red in the blink of an eye, and blood pounded in his ears. “What is this?” he shrieked.
Bakugou clicked his tongue, annoyed. “I thought she was fucking with me.”
“What?”
He let go of Kirishima’s face and took a step back. Kirishima looked around the room in disbelief, horror, and a bit of curiosity. “All those times Camie joked about there being a secret sex room in the Todoroki estate—so fucking gross.”
Kirishima was at a loss for words. There were so many strange devices he had never seen before, some kind of swing, lots of ropes, hooks hanging from the ceiling, and four large armoires. A bed was up against the wall on the lefthand side, and some weird, giant X leaned against the wall next to it. Kirishima stammered incoherently, trying to express something he couldn’t place his finger on.
“I can’t believe they have so many guests here and they didn’t lock the fucking door,” muttered Bakugou.
“Did I die?” Kirishima finally managed.
Bakugou let out a choked laugh. “Hah. No. This family is fucking weird. I wouldn’t be surprised if Touya was the one that had it installed.”
“Who?”
“The eldest Todoroki sibling. He’s kind of a black sheep, though they’re all weird in their own right. I’d say Natsuo is the most normal, but he’s married to Camie, so that invalidates that.”
“I don’t belong here,” Kirishima admitted suddenly. It came out so unexpectedly, he was surprised by himself.
“No one belongs in here. They’re all fucking creepy, but if you see something you like, I could pick it up for us to try later.”
“No.”
“What?” Bakugou raised a brow and turned back to Kirishima, his eyes widening.
Kirishima glanced around the room once more, then looked at Bakugou, shaking his head. “I don’t understand why your friends thought bringing me here was a good idea. I shouldn’t be at some big, fancy, rich person party. I don’t belong here. Why go to this much trouble for someone that is just a glorified fuckbuddy?” He was stung by his own words, but it was the truth. It was all they were, so why? Their relationship was weird to begin with.
Not for the first time, Bakugou looked mad. However, unlike last time when he became strangely docile, this time he looked ready to blow a fuse. He took two careful steps forward, stopping just shy of bumping into Kirishima, his red eyes fixed on him in an angry scowl. His lips moved, but no words came out. Finally, “Kirishima, do you really think so little of me?”
What? It felt like iced water had been flushed through his veins. The expression on Bakugou’s face made Kirishima’s breath catch in his throat. “N-no. You’re amazing. You have a high paying job, you’re amazing at cleaning, all my friends love you except for Monoma but he’s not really my friend, and you’re… you’re really good at sex.”
“Is that it?”
There was an edge of venom in his words and no denying the fact that Bakugou was mad. Kirishima had no idea what he did wrong, but he knew he needed to apologize. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? You were just being honest. Despite the fact that I told you you were the only one I was seeing, despite the fact that you asked me on a date, despite the fact that I haven’t taken your housekeeping money in a couple of weeks—it’s all gone towards things you needed in your apartment, things your part-time convenience store salary cannot afford, so I have chipped in my own money to pay the difference—you see us as nothing more than fuckbuddies.”
Kirishima felt numb from the top of his head down to the tip of his toes. He had noticed the new items in his apartment, but he never once stopped to think about how much they had cost, or more importantly, why Bakugou had been replacing all of his belongings. He just knew that after that day he had gotten overwhelmed and cried, Bakugou had been different. Kirishima sucked in a shaky breath, trying not to get his hopes up. “Are you—are you saying it’s more than that?”
Bakugou closed the distance between them, standing chest to chest. He grabbed Kirishima by the chin once more, tugging his face to look down. “I’m saying it’s been more than that from the very beginning. I told you, I don’t fuck virgins, but I made an exception for you. I’ve made tons of exceptions for you. It’s never just been about sex but if you don’t want more, you need to tell me now.”
Kirishima gulped. With each breath, his chest would bump against Bakugou’s, and he’d feel the faint pitter patter of a second heartbeat pounding in time with his own. “You really mean it?”
Bakugou huffed. “I don’t say shit I don’t mean.”
Okay, okay, okay, okay. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. That was a confession. It had to be. Even Kirishima wasn’t that dense. Bakugou was saying he liked him in his roundabout way of saying things. Kirishima started nodding his head absently, trying to process the information. His mouth felt dry as he tried to swallow down a lump in his throat. “C-can I kiss you?”
Bakugou cocked a brow. “I dunno. Can you? You haven’t told me how you feel, idiot.”
“I want more! Definitely. Absolutely. One hundred percent want more. I would very much like for this thing between us to be more than just sex.”
A smile. Bakugou smiled! “Good. Then yes, dummy, you can kiss me.”
Kirishima did not need to be told twice. He placed both hands on either side of Bakugou’s face and pulled him in the last little bit to close the distance. The kiss was chaste at first, but it had Kirishima’s heart doing summersaults in his chest. Their lips parted to make room for their tongues to intertwine with one another and deepen the kiss. Kirishima breathed Bakugou in. They had kissed countless times before, and yet it was somehow so much better now than it ever had been before.
When they pulled apart, Kirishima was breathless. He looked down into Bakugou’s eyes which were glossy, and the pupils blown wide. “Amazing,” he breathed.
Bakugou laughed. “Yeah. It was pretty great. Let’s go get your friends and get out of here.”
“You don’t have to go back to the other guests?” asked Kirishima, a little worried.
“Fuck those guys. I would rather take you back to my place than deal with all those old farts. Unless you don’t want to…?”
“No! No, I do!” Bakugou was going to take him back to his apartment! Kirishima had never been to Bakugou’s apartment. They always went to Kirishima’s place.
“Why don’t you text your friends to let them know we’ll be leaving. Then we’ll head back to the ballroom to get them.”
Kirishima nodded and pulled his phone out of the breast pocket of his suit. He turned toward the door and sent a quick text to Tetsutetsu to let him know they were headed back that way and that Bakugou would be giving them all a ride home, then slipped his phone back into his pocket.
“Ready?”
Kirishima nodded again.
It was a lot easier to find the ballroom when Bakugou was leading the way. They were able to get back to where everyone else was in a matter of minutes and locate Tetsutetsu and Kendou sitting at one of the tables. They were talking to a woman with long black hair in a red ballgown and a man with short dark hair, thick-rimmed glasses, and a gray suit. Bakugou grunted at them in greeting.
“Bakugou,” they greeted in unison.
“Tch. You two, let’s go.” Bakugou placed one hand on Tetsutetsu’s shoulder and the other on Kendou’s. Kendou looked up at them through half-lidded eyes, clearly drunk from their time apart.
Kirishima moved to help Kendou to their feet, then passed them off to Tetsutetsu to carry his partner.
“Itsuka, dear, we should get lunch!” The black-haired woman declared.
Kendou nodded. “Sure thing, Yo-yo-ro-zu. I’ll text you.” They giggled and Bakugou rolled his eyes.
“Okay you drunkards, let’s go.”
“We wouldn’t have been left to drink so much if Kirishima hadn’t abandoned us,” whined Tetsutetsu.
“Sorry dude. I got lost going pee.”
“S’that so?” He narrowed steely gray eyes at Kirishima, who gulped in response.
“Quit dicking around.” Bakugou smacked the both of them on the back of the head and led the trio toward the front door. By the way he was glancing over his shoulder, Kirishima suspected Bakugou wanted to slip out before Camie or any of the others could notice he was gone.
They got Kendou situated in the backseat, Tetsutetsu sliding in after her, then Kirishima took a seat up front next to Bakugou. As he steered the car down the long driveway and toward the main gates, Bakugou held his hand out on the armrest between the two front seats. Kirishima glanced down at the awaiting hand, then nervously, took it in his own, entwining their fingers as Bakugou drove.
Tetsutetsu whistled from the backseat. “Something must have gone right.”
“Can it, meathead.” Bakugou barked from the driver’s seat, but without his usual bite.
“Awe, they’re in love.” Kendou sang from beside Tetsutetsu, clinging to his arm against the seat.
Kirishima blushed at the comment but couldn’t help but notice Kendou’s out of character behavior. “How much did they drink?”
“I lost track,” said Tetsutetsu, “Malibu Barbie made them do shots.”
Bakugou chuckled. “Malibu Barbie,” he muttered to himself. “Never do shots with Camie.”
“Lesson learned.”
“Camie will impair your judgment faster than any amount of alcohol.”
“Then why are you friends with her?” asked Kirishima, curiosity piqued.
Bakugou cocked a brow and glanced to his left to look at Kirishima. “I told you; she impairs your judgment. Despite the fact that I would rather not be friends with her, she makes me dumb enough to let her stick around.”
“That’s some superpower,” said Tetsutetsu.
“It’s something.” Bakugou agreed. “Where am I taking you two?”
Tetsutetsu was quiet for a second, then said, “Campus. Itsuka lives in the dorms. I can get myself home after I drop them off.”
“Got it.”
They rode the rest of the way back to campus in subdued silence, the only being the hum of the car’s engine, and Kendou sleepily humming in the backseat. At some point, they had fallen into Tetsutetsu’s lap, he was stroking brown hair out of Kendou’s face. Kirishima gave Bakugou’s hand a small squeeze, enjoying the comfort of their linked hands.
When they pulled into the parking lot for the dorms, Tetsutetsu got out of the car first, then lifted a sleeping Kendou on his back. He leaned against the passenger door and spoke to Kirishima in a low voice. “Don’t wear yourself out too much. You know we have that tournament coming up.”
Kirishima gasped, taken aback. How could he say something like in front of Bakugou? He turned his head to look at the blond, who was just staring at him with a cocked brow. Kirishima looked back at the window and frowned at his friend. “I would never!”
“Sure man. Have fun.” Tetsutetsu knocked on the roof of the car, then headed off in the direction of Kendou’s building.
Bakugou pulled the car into a large underground parking garage and veered into a parking space with the number 307 painted on the ground in yellow. He turned the engine off and pocketed his car keys, then pressed the trunk button. Kirishima opened the car door and stepped out into the chill of the parking garage as Bakugou grabbed his suit jacket out of the trunk. It slammed shut with a thud, and Bakugou held his hand out for Kirishima to take.
He skipped over to him, taking ahold of his hand and following beside the blond as they made their way to the elevator that would take them up to the third floor. The doors slid open, then closed, and Bakugou pressed the “3” button. Once they were alone in the small box with nothing but the hum of the gears to fill the quiet, Bakugou gave Kirishima’s hand a small tug, pulling him into the blond. He wrapped his free hand in red hair, drawing him in for a heated kiss. Kirishima sucked in a breath as he enjoyed the feeling of lips crashing against lips. Bakugou sucked on his bottom lip, eliciting a moan to slip out of Kirishima’s throat.
The third floor came too soon, the elevator chiming to let them know they had reached their destination, then the doors slid open. They broke apart and Bakugou led Kirishima down a lengthy, sleek-looking hallway until they reached the dark door marked 307 in white number plates. Anticipation had Kirishima’s heart hammering in his chest as he watched Bakugou unlock the door in haste. He muttered a few curses as he fumbled with his keys, then flung the door open in haste.
The genkan had glossy dark tiles and light gray walls. Kirishima kicked off his white sneakers that he was just now realizing how out of place they looked with his expensive black suit. It was too late to do anything about it now, but part of him wondered how many people had been silently judging him for it. Bakugou flipped on a light switch and stepped out of his expensive-looking loafers.
Before Kirishima could get a good look at Bakugou’s apartment, he was being pressed against the wall, lips crashing into his again. He shut his eyes, feeling the bump and grind of Bakugou’s body flush against his own. His suit jacket was pushed off his shoulders, left in a heaping pile on the entryway floor. They stumbled toward what Kirishima assumed was the living room, but he only opened his eyes briefly. His field of vision was filled with red; scarlet eyes were fixed on him, and soft blond hair brushed against his forehead.
Two firm hands cupped his ass cheeks, and then he was being hoisted into the air. Despite Bakugou’s smaller, leaner stature, he was incredibly strong. It never ceased to amaze Kirishima how easily the blond could lift him off his feet. He was carried to the bedroom, and the door was kicked shut behind them. He sucked on Bakugou’s bottom lip, feeling the flesh swell from abuse. They pulled apart just long enough for Bakugou to drop him to the bed, and Kirishima glanced around the dark room.
He felt dwarfed on the king-sized mattress as Bakugou turned on a lamp beside the bed. The low lighting filled the room, and he took advantage of the opportunity to see the way his (now) boyfriend lived. The sheets were black, as was the dresser below a large flatscreen tv, there was a sliding glass door that led to a balcony attached to the bedroom, the drapes black, the nightstand, the desk in the corner. Kirishima chuckled to himself.
“What’s so funny?”
“There’s a lot of black,” he noted.
Bakugou frowned. “Black is functional. It goes with everything.”
“It’s cute,” said Kirishima.
Bakugou puffed up his cheeks and huffed. “Do you want to laugh at me, or do you want me to suck your dick?”
“Dick, please!” Kirishima nodded enthusiastically. He slid to the edge of the bed and rested his feet on the floor.
Bakugou stood between his legs, eyeing Kirishima up and down. “You look really good in that fucker’s suit. It’s annoying.”
Kirishima quirked a brow, a smug grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Best to take it off then, eh?”
Bakugou leaned forward, pressed a chaste kiss to Kirishima’s lips, then knelt in front of him. He undid the button on the suit pants, slowly pulled down the zipper, and hooked his finger on the waistband of Kirishima’s boxer briefs. His cock spilled out, already hard and desperate for release. Bakugou licked his lips before taking the base of it in his hand brushing his lips against the head. Kirishima moaned at the contact. Then a warm, wet tongue was teasing against the folds of his foreskin, flicking in and out, and circling the tip.
“Fuck,” he groaned. Bakugou hummed in response. His tongue licked slow stripes against the slit, and he lightly raked his teeth on the edges of that sensitive skin, that was barely concealing Kirishima’s cock. “Shit,” he moaned. Kirishima tossed his head back and wrapped his fingers in soft blond hair for support. He bucked his hips upward, feeling the length of his shaft slide against Bakugou’s palm.
Bakugou pumped lazily as he took the bulk of Kirishima’s erection into his mouth. His tongue flattened along the underside of Kirishima’s cock, tracing the dorsal vein with every bob of his head. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard, eliciting beads of precum, and lapping them up as he continued to work his way up and down.
The stress of the day had finally gotten the better of him, and it didn’t take long for Kirishima to fully come undone. After a few minutes, he was gripping Bakugou’s hair hard enough that his knuckles had turned white, and he was desperately chasing that release. “C-cumming,” he whined, and started thrusting his hips faster, fucking into the blond’s mouth with little remorse.
Bakugou stilled in anticipation. When Kirishima fell over the edge of the cliff, his release crashing into him like waves against rocks, Bakugou had taken it with a smile. He swallowed down every last drop and didn’t pull away until Kirishima was fully spent. He stood, looking please with himself, as Kirishima fell back on the bed, fully dressed with his limp cock out.
“Someone was awfully excited.”
“Shut up,” said Kirishima, embarrassed by how quick he came. He had personally thought he was starting to do better—last longer—but this had brought him back to the beginning. Maybe it was different? They weren’t just fucking anymore. They were making love. That was embarrassing to even think about, let alone say out loud, but it also made Kirishima incredibly happy. It was about more than just sex. It was a positive way to express their feelings for one another, and it made him feel overwhelmed. He sniffled and wiped at the tears that threatened to spill with the back of his hand.
“Fuck, you’re crying again.” Bakugou stood there frozen, and Kirishima lifted his head to see the panicked look in his eyes. “Goddammit.”
“Huh?”
“Fuck.” Bakugou started pacing small circles in the bedroom, anxiously carding his hands through his hair. “Shit. What did I do this time? Why the fuck—”
“What?” asked Kirishima, interrupting Bakugou’s mutterings. “Wait, why are you mad?”
Bakugou stopped his pacing and turned to look at Kirishima. “I’m not mad, not at you, at least. I just don’t understand what I keep doing to make you cry. I thought you were happy, but now you’re crying. And last time you didn’t use the safe word, and you started crying and—”
Kirishima furrowed his brows as the gears slowly clicked into place in his head. “I think you’re misunderstanding,” he said. Bakugou looked at him, clearly waiting for him to explain. “I just… I was a little overwhelmed by how happy I am. It’s embarrassing. I really like you, Bakugou, so they were tears of joy. And last time—well, I was sad because I like you so much. I wasn’t crying because I was hurt or anything, just upset by the fact that I didn’t think you would want something more than what we already had, when did. I wanted more but was too afraid to tell you, so I started crying.”
Bakugou scrubbed his face with his palm and exhaled. “From now on, you tell me everything. I don’t care how insignificant it might seem. I thought I hurt you before and I was afraid to touch you.”
“Is-is that why everything has been so soft?”
Bakugou let out a strangled sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh of relief. “Yeah. I guess so. Was soft not satisfying?” He quirked a brow and his voice dropped an octave. There was something dangerous in the way he asked the question that had all the blood flowing back to Kirishima’s softening dick.
“I-it was good, but…”
“Hm.” Bakugou hummed in response and moved to pick up his suit jacket. “Well, I wouldn’t want to bore you with vanilla sex, and I did pick something up when we were in the sex dungeon.”
“Dungeon would imply we were in the basement.” Bakugou rolled his eyes and pulled out a long, silky red rope. “What’s that for?” asked Kirishima.
“Bondage, of course. If you want?” He sounded hesitant, but Kirishima nodded eagerly.
“Y-yeah. Sure!”
“I don’t think that’s quite enough though. You really put me through the ringer today.”
“What do you mean?”
Bakugou wrapped his free hand around the knot in his tie and pulled it loose. Fuck, taking off a tie shouldn’t be so hot, but somehow the blond made it burn with the fire of a thousand suns. “Do you trust me?” he asked, sounding unsure.
Kirishima nodded again. “Yeah.”
“Okay.” Bakugou pressed his knee onto the edge of the mattress and set the rope down on the bed. Then, he leaned forward, wrapping the tie around Kirishima’s eyes so that everything went dark. He pulled it tight around the back of Kirishima’s head, then ran a thumb down the apple of his cheek, brushing it lightly against his skin. “Is that comfortable?”
“Yeah,” he gulped. It was weird not being able to see despite his eyes being wide open. He felt hands run down his chest, the buttons on the vest popped open, then the shirt. Then, those rough, callused hands were brushing against his chest, thumbs rubbing lightly on Kirishima’s nipples, before the shirt and vest were stripped from his body.
Teeth teased at his throat, hot breath against his skin. There was a flick and a pinch to his hardening buds, and he moaned as his nipples were lightly abused. Bakugou slid one hand to the center of Kirishima’s chest, forcing his back flat against the mattress. He sat on his lap, grinding his ass against Kirishima’s still exposed cock, and leaned forward, his chest brushing against the redhead’s face. Those warm hands snaked their way down the length of his biceps, to his forearms, then his wrists. Kirishima felt the soft fabric of the rope wrap around his wrists; the binding pulled taut.
“What’s the safe word?” Bakugou asked into his ear.
“Cloud,” Kirishima choked out, his mouth feeling dry. His heart was pounding in his chest. The restraints held his wrists firmly together above his head, and then he felt his arms being folded back, the soft rope wrapping around his biceps. “How-how do you know how to do this?” He asked, unsure if he actually wanted the answer.
“I’ve seen videos,” said Bakugou. He kissed Kirishima when his work was done, punching his tongue down the redhead’s throat, and licking at his palette. Bakugou sucked on Kirishima’s bottom lip, then slid forward so that his knees were bracketing Kirishima’s chest. “Suck,” he commanded, and the salty taste of precum was smattered against his lips.
He did as he was told, opening his mouth wide to take in the blond’s massive cock. Bakugou wrapped his hands in Kirishima’s hair, pulling the ponytail loose that had been holding his red locks together since the party. He fucked into his mouth, forcing Kirishima to take the full length. His eyes watered as his nose hit pubes, the fine hairs tickling his nostrils. After a minute of the abuse, Bakugou let him go. His head fell back onto the mattress with his arms tied above him, and then the blond climbed off him. He felt his pants being shimmied off his legs, and then he was naked on the bed, unable to see or move his arms. “Bakugou?” His throat was already hoarse from the assault.
There was a shuffling sound, and then hands were sliding his legs up so that his knees were in the air. A slicked-up finger teased at his rim, before pushing inside. Kirishima bucked his hips in response, rutting against the air, desperate for friction. Teeth raked against his inner thigh and that one finger quickly became two as he felt Bakugou slip another in, working the ring of muscle to stretch him open. “That’s good, baby,” he cooed, praising Kirishima.
Precum pooled against his stomach as his cock bounced uselessly. What he would give to be able to stroke himself, but instead, he was left blubbering and moaning as Bakugou brushed his fingertips against Kirishima’s prostate. A surge of electricity shot through his body. “Pl-please,” he whined.
“Soon,” said Bakugou into his thigh, kissing and sucking at the tender skin. It stung as he entered a third finger, but the stretch was all the more welcoming.
Kirishima wanted to hold Bakugou. He wished to wrap his arms around the blond’s neck, cling to him, and bury his face in his throat, but he couldn’t do any of that. He couldn’t see Bakugou, he couldn’t wrap his arms around him. Instead, he lay there. His back arched as he lifted his hips off the bed. A hand wrapped around his cock, a thumb lightly working circles against his slit. Kirishima whimpered at the touch from being worked in the front and the back simultaneously. “B-Bakugou,” he cried.
Bakugou shushed him, his finger pushed down on Kirishima’s foreskin, and his other hand continued to massage his prostate. “Just another minute, baby. Then I’ll give you exactly what you want. You do want it, don’t you?”
“Y-yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“I want it,” cried Kirishima.
“What do you want?”
“Y-your dick.”
“Where do you want it?”
“I-in—” Kirishima moaned, “—in my ass.”
Bakugou hummed. “And that’s exactly where I want to be. Inside you is my favorite place.” He let go of Kirishima’s aching cock and pulled his fingers free. Kirishima whined at the emptiness but was immediately met with the velvety softness of Bakugou’s cockhead brushing against his taint. “Hang on, baby. Just give me a second.” Cool liquid spilled down his crack, and Kirishima shivered from the lube. Then, slowly, he felt the pressure of his hole being stretched wide and gasped as Bakugou pushed into him. “That’s it. Breathe.”
Kirishima inhaled, then exhaled slowly. He felt fingernails dig into his thighs as Bakugou used his legs to leverage himself into position. Bakugou lifted his legs higher until they were over his shoulders, and then with one swift movement, he pushed all the way in until his hips were flush with Kirishima’s ass. Knees pressed into his chest and slow thrusts were made—in and out, in and out. With each thrust, his cock would bounce against his stomach, begging to be touched.
“B-Bakugou…”
“Ngh,” Bakugou groaned. “Yeah, what do you need?”
He wished he could see Bakugou, to know what kind of look he had on his face as he pounded Kirishima’s ass. He felt a drop of sweat land on his forehead. It slid down, mixing with the tears that had dampened the (surely expensive) tie. “Pl-please. I-I want to-to see you.”
A hand left his right thigh, and then the tie was pushed up. Low lighting filled his eyes, and there before him was the most beautiful view he had ever seen. Bakugou’s brows were scrunched together, his nose ticked up in concentration, sweat clung to the ends of his bangs, threatening to fall with every thrust. He quickened his pace, his cockhead slamming into Kirishima’s prostate. He choked on a moan as Bakugou continued his assault, rhythmically hitting his sweet spot. His arms rubbed against the bindings. Even with the silky texture of the rope, they dug into his skin uncomfortably. Oh, how he wished he could dig his nails into that perfect pale back, to mark it up the same way his arms would surely be marked from the rope.
“D-don’t—ngh—don’t struggle. It’ll hurt if you do.” Bakugou ground his teeth together as he fought against his release. He was getting close. Kirishima could see it. His pace was growing erratic and the grip on Kirishima’s thighs tightened.
“B-Bakugou,” whined Kirishima, and then there was a hand on his cock once more. Bakugou was pumping him in time with his thrusts, quick up and down movements had him cumming before he could even process it. His muscles clenched around the length of Bakugou’s cock, twitching from his orgasm. He saw spots in the darkness of the ceiling, and then Bakugou was letting out one last groan before his own release had caught up to him. The thrusts stuttered to a halt, and then the blond collapsed on top of him, ignoring the spunk that now covered both of their stomachs.
His chest rose and fell in rapid succession as Kirishima tried to catch his breath. Bakugou pulled out, wincing as he did so, then rolled onto the bed beside him. He turned his head so that they were face to face, placed a chaste kiss on Kirishima’s lips, then sighed contentedly. “You look amazing all tied up like that. I’m half-tempted to leave you that way.”
“Please untie me,” Kirishima begged, “my arms are tired.”
Bakugou laughed, then slid up into a seated position. He made quick work of the rope, unwrapping it from Kirishima’s arms and then his wrists. He tossed it to the floor and watched as Kirishima stretched his arms out. “Maybe I should turn the spare bedroom into a sex room,” he mused to himself.
Kirishima blanched. “It looked like a torture room.”
“There’s a fine line between sex and torture.” Bakugou told him, laughing once more. His gaze slid to the alarm clock on the nightstand and sighed. “Do you have school tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” Kirishima was suddenly reminded that not only did he no longer have his clothes, but his gym bag with all of his schoolwork was also left behind. “Shit. All of my stuff is at that Todoroki house.”
Bakugou got up from the bed and fished through his discarded clothes until he found his phone. He tapped on it for a minute, then lifted it to his ear. “Nerd—yes, I know what time it is. Shut up. Kirishima’s schoolbag is at Todoroki’s. What do you mean, ‘how do I know you’re still there?’ I’m not stupid. Did you honestly think I didn’t know you were sleeping with my boss’s son? Fuck you. No. Deku. You better be here at five a.m. with all of Kirishima’s shit or I’m sending you to that meeting with Grabby Hands by yourself. I don’t care how goddamn early it is! It’s partially your fault that his stuff is there to begin with. Yes. Tell Shouto he can fuck right off. Good night.” He hung up the phone.
Kirishima stared in disbelief. He would probably never get used to the way Bakugou talked to his “friends.” He cleared his throat. “I-uh, I don’t have class until nine.”
Bakugou turned back to him and raised a brow. “I have work at seven.”
“Is your work far?”
“Hm? No. I just wanted to torment Deku. It’s the least he deserves for helping Camie use you as bait.” He set his phone on the dresser, then held out his hand for Kirishima to take. “Let’s get cleaned up, and then we can head to bed.”
Kirishima’s eyes widened. “I-I can stay the night?” Bakugou had never spent the night. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that he might stay over.
“Of course, idiot. We’re dating, aren’t we?”
Tears pooled against the rim of Kirishima’s eyes and then he was crying. He threw himself at Bakugou, ignoring his outstretched hand and choosing to wrap himself around the blond’s chest. “Yeah. Yeah, we are.” He felt a hand caress the back of his head as he continued to cry into that strong chest, and then his head was being lifted so that his gaze met Bakugou’s.
“Then you’re obviously spending the night. Now let’s go shower.” Bakugou kissed him, then helped Kirishima to his feet to lead him to the bathroom.
Notes:
For those of you that don't follow me on twitter, know I planned to have finished this chapter like a week ago, but my body decided it hates me and I had a 3-day long migraine, followed by chest pains and dizziness and all sorts of fun stuff. My brain was mush. It was very frustrating. BUT, now the boys have finally talked, we've seen a bit about Bakugou's mysterious life, they are officially a couple, and we're back to some kinky sexy times.
Lots of new characters were introduced in this chapter. If you're curious about the outfits Kirishima, Tetsutetsu, and Kendou were wearing, you can see them here and here. I also had to obviously throw in Natsumie as a side ship because they have me in a chokehold. It will probably not be the last we see of Camie. lol
Anyway, sorry for rambling. It'll probably be a bit before I have another chapter posted. I have a couple other long WIPs in the works that I really need to focus on. IYKYK. Thank you for reading as always.
@hyuge_chan ♥
Chapter Text
Kirishima didn’t get to see much of Bakugou’s apartment that night. He passed out shortly after their shower and the next morning he had to be up so early that he was in a groggy haze as they made their way out of the apartment. Bakugou had given Kirishima a ride home before work, where he went back to sleep for another two hours before school.
Tetsutetsu had chewed him out for ditching them at the party, to which Kirishima earnestly apologized. Kendou looked rough from their hangover and complained that they were too loud. Despite his friends’ moderate annoyance with him, Kirishima was in way too good a mood to care. He and Bakugou were officially dating. They were boyfriend and boyfriend and every time he remembered that fact, he would start smiling uncontrollably. Tetsutetsu knocked him on the shoulder a few times for his dumb grin.
Kirishima proceeded to annihilate everyone during training that afternoon. Unlike the day before when he had been stressed, today, he was in top shape. Their upcoming tournament would be a breeze with how easily he put all of his teammates on the mat. Maybe he could invite Bakugou to come watch!
He was whistling when he opened his apartment door to find his boyfriend sitting on the couch (fully clothed). It was the first time he had come home to find Bakugou in his apartment with clothes on. Kirishima was a little disappointed. He would have to process that information later.
“Hey,” he greeted with a smile.
Bakugou muted whatever was playing on the tv and stood up. He walked over to Kirishima and wound his arms around his waist, pulling him in for a kiss. “Welcome home.”
Wow, did he like the way that sounded!
“How was work?”
“Mm,” Bakugou hummed and pulled back to get a better look at Kirishima. “Would be better without all those assholes annoying me all the time.”
They moved to the couch and Kirishima curled into Bakugou’s side, bathing in the warmth of having a lover to call his own. Bakugou draped his arm over Kirishima’s shoulders, hugging him close as he rested his head on his boyfriend’s chest. They sat there quietly for a little bit while the tv continued to play whatever Bakugou had been watching.
“Hey, Bakugou.” Kirishima looked up at him, red eyes meeting red.
Bakugou cocked a brow. “Yeah?”
Kirishima chewed on his bottom lip before speaking. “You remember last night when Tetsu mentioned a tournament coming up?”
“What about it?”
“Well… It’s this weekend. I was wondering if maybe you would want to come?” He bit the inside of his cheek, nervous to hear Bakugou’s response.
Bakugou’s brows furrowed, a crease forming on his forehead. “You want me to come to your judo tournament?”
“You don’t have to!” Kirishima was quick to correct. “Just like… If you’re not busy or something I thought maybe you would want to—”
“I’d love to.” Bakugou cut him off with a kiss.
“C-cool. It starts at nine on Saturday. It’ll be at a dojo downtown. I can text you the address later.”
“You better kick ass.” Bakugou smirked, then squeezed Kirishima tighter into his side.
Kirishima chuckled lightly. “I always do. I’ve been training since I was a kid.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
“What do you mean?”
“Judo. I don’t actually know what you’re going to college for.”
Kirishima lifted his brows in surprise. Bakugou had never asked him about his future plans before. “I want to be a gym teacher.”
Bakugou raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Do you have the grades to be a teacher?”
Clutching his chest in mock offense, Kirishima removed himself from Bakugou’s side. “I’ll have you know I have incredibly average grades.”
“I wouldn’t brag about that if I were you.”
They both laughed and shoved each other lightly until Bakugou was draping his body over Kirishima’s, caging him in on the couch. He leaned in and pressed a heated kiss to Kirishima’s lips. Suddenly, their playful shoves and banter were replaced with wandering hands and open-mouthed kisses. Bakugou nipped at the juncture of Kirishima’s throat, licking along his pulse point. It sent a shiver down Kirishima’s body, and he rutted against his boyfriend, chasing the needed friction to stimulate his arousal.
“Bakugou,” his voice cracked, laced with desire.
“Mm?” Bakugou continued to kiss and lick his way down, as he slid his hands under Kirishima’s shirt, hoisting the fabric up.
“We need to eat dinner.”
“I’d rather eat you.” He lifted his head, looking Kirishima in the eye. Bakugou’s scarlet eyes were almost completely black. “That reminds me.”
Kirishima wet his lips. “What?”
“I want you to sit on my face.”
“What?” His brows knit together in shock. “I’ll crush you!”
“Good,” said Bakugou, looking smug. He hopped to his feet, dragging Kirishima to the bedroom by the hand. “Take your pants off,” he commanded as he went to lay down on the bed. Kirishima stared at him in disbelief, unsure if this was seriously happening. Bakugou snapped his fingers. “Come on.”
Kirishima sucked in a breath, then undid the button on his jeans. He kicked them off to the side of the room, then discarded his shirt. The bed dipped under his weight as he crawled on top of Bakugou. “Are you sure about this?”
“Completely. Get up here and then turn around.”
He did as he was told. Kirishima scooted forward until his ass was hovering over Bakugou’s face, and then he turned around as if seated for a reverse cowgirl. He lowered himself slowly, supporting his weight on his knees. Bakugou grabbed him by the cheeks, spreading them fully apart and giving the meaty tissue a squeeze. Kirishima felt his dick spring to life in response to the touch. He whined from his spot above Bakugou’s head, and then he was feeling that hot, wet tongue plunging deep inside of him.
Bakugou kneaded Kirishima’s ass as he buried his face between cheeks. His nose pressed into Kirishima’s tailbone as he flicked his tongue in and out, working the rim to stretch it wide. Kirishima dug his nails into his thighs, turning the tanned skin white from his grip. He moaned as Bakugou’s tongue slid deeper inside of him.
He screwed his eyes shut, bathing in the sensation. Bakugou removed one of his hands from Kirishima’s ass, and wrapped his arm around Kirishima’s waist until his hand met the needy cock that pulsed in time with every tongue flick. Kirishima moaned as those long, slender fingers encircled his dick. Bakugou pumped the length languidly. He worked his thumb over the tip, rubbing slow circles against the slit. Kirishima squirmed at the touch and arced his hips forward, fucking into Bakugou’s hand.
“Fuck. Fuck. Bakugou.” Kirishima could feel Bakugou smile against his cheeks as he continued to pump his cock at an excruciatingly slow pace. “Faster. Please. Please go faster.” If Bakugou didn’t have his tongue buried within Kirishima’s ass, he would probably make some sort of comment about how good he had gotten at begging. Just thinking about it sent a surge of electricity coursing through his body.
He became a real pervert over the last few months, and it was entirely Bakugou Katsuki’s fault. A finger breached his rim as Bakugou worked to stretch Kirishima even wider. It earned a hearty moan from Kirishima in response. Bakugou picked up his pace, pumping more furiously. So, when he came, there was a sticky wet mess pooled on the center of Bakugou’s shirt.
“Shit!” Kirishima cursed as he came down from his high. He slid off Bakugou’s face and collapsed on the bed beside him. “I’ll get you a different shirt.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’re not done here anyway.” Bakugou sat up and peeled his shirt off, tossing it onto the floor. He flipped over so that he was slotted between Kirishima’s legs, then leaned in to kiss along his throat once more.
Kirishima shook out his hands in an attempt to quell the nerves coursing through his veins. He had been to hundreds of judo tournaments in his twenty-three years of life. Today was no different, except he had never participated in a tournament with his boyfriend watching him before.
He bounced back and forth from heel to heel and shook out the rest of his limbs. Tetsutetsu glared at him, complaining that his nerves were infectious. “You’re gonna make the rest of the team worried, man.”
“Sorry,” said Kirishima. He glanced around the training hall as spectators filed into the room. There were rows of chairs set up along the walls and each person made their way into one of the empty seats. He watched as their friends began to shuffle in and occupied the front row nearest to them. Kirishima waved at Kaminari as he sat down next to Sero and Ashido.
The three of them waved back, but Kirishima couldn’t help but notice some sort of weird tension going on between them. He would have to file that away for later. Right now, he needed to focus on warmups. He tried not to think about the fact that Bakugou wasn’t there yet. He said he was going to come, and that was all that mattered. He had even sent a message reconfirming the address for where the tournament would be held the night before.
Kirishima sat on the mat and leaned forward to do a toe-touch. He exhaled a long breath, then glanced at the chairs once more. Kendou had taken a seat on the other side of Kaminari and was waving at Tetsutetsu. His silver-haired friend jogged over to the chairs to chat briefly, and Kirishima nodded his head in their direction.
A few minutes later, a whistle blew, and the tournament staff began the opening ceremonies. The members of his school’s dojo were all lined up next to each other and the order for each of the matches was posted on a large corkboard. Kirishima was starting to get antsy again, seeing that Bakugou still hadn’t arrived. There was an open seat next to Kendou, but most of the other chairs were filled.
Kirishima’s name was called, and it was time for his first match. He needed to focus on the task at hand. His opponent was taller than him, with broad shoulders and a lean frame. Kirishima had fought him before and was confident he could win despite their size difference. He had trained hard for this day. He gave one last cursory glance to the audience seats, then bowed in greeting to his opponent.
The match was more of a challenge than Kirishima had anticipated. He had to really put all of his focus on what he was doing to ensure victory over his opponent. Kirishima was knocked to the ground, but he was able to finish the match with a Yoko-wakare and earned the necessary points to win.
There was some light clapping in response and a few whistles. Kirishima dusted himself off and when he stood up, he heard shouting coming from the audience. He turned his head to see a head of blond hair and flushed cheeks standing in the front row with a large bouquet of flowers and a sign. Kirishima bit back a laugh as he smiled. His friends looked appalled by the overzealous display, and he turned away to bow at his opponent, as a thank you for the match.
Kirishima’s gaze slid to the right as he took his place beside the rest of his teammates. He locked eyes with Bakugou who was getting elbowed in the side by Kendou and Kaminari. They had apparently switched seats at some point, and he was now boxed in by them. His face was beet red, and he was trying to hide behind the flowers he brought with him. Kirishima felt the urge to cry at the sight of his boyfriend with a big sign reading “that’s my boyfriend,” but he kept it inside. No one would let him live it down if he burst into tears at the tournament for no reason.
He gave Bakugou a small wave who nodded back in reply. Tetsutetsu gave him a nudge as he whispered, “I would die of embarrassment if Itsuka showed up with a sign like that.”
“It’s pretty manly.” Kirishima swooned.
With Bakugou now watching from the sidelines, Kirishima was more determined than ever to do his best. He tried not to focus too much of his attention on the audience present. He could hear the occasional sounds of his friends cheering—Bakugou always the loudest—as he fought each of his matches. Kirishima had so much energy. He couldn’t remember a time when a judo tournament was so much fun. The day passed by quickly and by the end of it, he had come in second.
He stood in the lineup for closing ceremonies and accepted the trophy that was handed to him. Kirishima was tired and stunk of sweat, but he had never felt so happy about the outcome of a tournament, even if he didn’t win. When they were dismissed, he walked over to the audience where his friends had sat and was greeted with smiles and cheers. Tetsutetsu slung an arm over his shoulder. Kendou gave their boyfriend a hug, and Bakugou got to his feet, looking sheepish. He held the large bouquet in one hand and tucked the sign under his arm.
Bakugou glanced around, not meeting Kirishima’s gaze. He chewed on his bottom lip, embarrassment clear on his face. “Um, congrats, on second place.”
A smile stretched across Kirishima’s face, and he pulled Bakugou into his arms. “Thanks, man!” He buried his face in blond hair and received a grunt in reply.
“You stink,” said Bakugou but he didn’t push away.
“Sorry,” Kirishima chuckled. “Gonna hit the showers real quick and get changed. You coming?” He turned to Tetsutetsu.
“Yeah. Meet you guys at the restaurant?”
“Restaurant?” Bakugou cocked a brow, staring up at Kirishima.
“Yeah, um… Usually after a tournament we all go out to eat, but if you don’t want to…” he trailed off.
Bakugou shook his head. “No, it’s fine. If that’s what you normally do, today is about you.”
Kirishima smiled at him. “Thanks. I’ll be quick.”
Kirishima was thankful for the fact that the dojo had private showers. If they didn’t, the situation he had found himself in would be a lot worse. He had intended to shower quickly, scrub his pits and balls with soap and be done with it, but as he was in the process of shutting the stall door, a hand stopped him. He jumped, surprised to see a sliver of Bakugou on the other side. His boyfriend pushed his way inside of the stall and reached for the shower faucet.
Hot water sprayed down on them, and he stood there with his eyes wide. “What are you doing?” he whispered over the sound of the running water. Bakugou smirked. He cocked a brow and leaned in close to Kirishima.
“I didn’t want to wait to reward you for coming in second.” Bakugou nipped at his ear and Kirishima felt his knees grow weak. “Turn around.”
Kirishima did as he was told. His hands feebly gripped at the wet tile of the shower wall. He felt Bakugou drop to his knees behind him, and then a pair of hands gripped his ass cheeks. Bakugou hooked his thumbs into the rim of Kirishima’s hole, stretching it wide. He pressed his face into Kirishima’s ass, and then the wet heat of his tongue breached the rim. Kirishima was thankful for the running water. It drowned out the sound of his moan as he pushed his backwards into Bakugou’s face. That tongue plunged deeper into him, lapping up his insides with vigor. Kirishima’s knees quaked, and he bit his fist to try and suppress the sounds of his moans.
Fuck. He’s never done something like this. Bakugou always coerced him into trying new things and Kirishima couldn’t say no. He didn’t want to say no. He enjoyed being devoured by his boyfriend, treated like a snack at all hours of the day. No one had ever wanted him as much as Bakugou Katsuki, and it was exhilarating. Water dripped into his eyes, making it hard to see, but he could feel every squeeze of his ass, the way Bakugou’s fingers tugged his hole open wider, how his tongue flicked in and out of Kirishima’s hole. He could barely breathe from how intense it all felt.
There was a knock on the shower stall and Kirishima froze.
“Hey man, are you coming?” Tetsutetsu’s voice rang out from the other side of the door.
Yes.
Kirishima cleared his throat as one of Bakugou’s hands moved from his ass to grip his cock. “Y-yeah, um, go without me. B-Bakugou said he’d give me a ride to the restaurant. I’ll—ngh—meet you guys there.”
Bakugou stroked him slowly, and Kirishima whimpered. There was a moment of silence where the only sound that could be heard was the running water from the showerhead. And then finally, “All right. I’ll see you guys there then.”
Footsteps echoed from the other side of the stall, and then the shower room door opened and shut. Kirishima breathed a sigh of relief, then yelped when teeth bit down on his ass. Bakugou quickened the pace of his hand that stroked the length of Kirishima’s cock until he was gasping for air. His muscles tensed as that familiar heat pooled in the pit of his stomach, and then the cord snapped. All the tension from the day was released into a splattering of cum on the shower wall. Kirishima slid to his knees, exhausted. Water rained down on his head and splashed under his legs as he let the high of his climax wash over him.
He looked up in time to see Bakugou standing above him, cock pointed at his face. Before he could register what exactly was happening, a smattering of cum was painted across his cheeks. He screwed his eyes shut as more sprayed onto him, and then he felt his head being dipped back into the flow of the water, rinsing it away.
Kirishima was still shocked by what they had just done. Bakugou held out a hand to help him to his feet, and together, they scrubbed down. “Enjoy your prize?” asked Bakugou, his arms linked behind Kirishima’s back in a wet hug.
“Y-yeah. That was amazing. We should probably hurry though. Everyone is gonna be waiting on us to eat.”
“Mm,” Bakugou hummed in response, then sighed. “I guess so.”
They got out of the shower and Bakugou changed back into the clothes he was originally wearing. Kirishima pulled a clean outfit out of his gym back and stuffed his dirty Gi inside of it. As they headed towards the exit, Bakugou stopped at a trash can.
“What are you doing?”
Bakugou held up his sign from earlier. “Throwing this thing out. I don’t exactly need it anymore.”
“No!” exclaimed Kirishima. He snatched the sign out of Bakugou’s hand and held it closely to his chest. “You can’t get rid of it.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because,” he started, “I wanna keep it. No one has ever done something like this for me before. I want to put it with the trophy from today.”
“I can make more signs, idiot.” Bakugou tried to wrestle the sign out of Kirishima’s arms but failed.
“Nuh-uh. This one holds a special memory. You went out of your way to make this for me. I don’t want to get rid of it. I love it,” he said fondly. His heart fluttered in his chest as he looked at Bakugou’s scowling face. Finally, his boyfriend sighed and resigned himself to defeat.
“Fine. If you want it that bad, then keep it.”
Kirishima pressed a kiss to Bakugou’s cheek, then skipped the rest of the way to the parking lot. They set the sign, flowers, trophy, and gym bag on the backseat, then pulled out of the lot to head in the direction of the restaurant.
When they arrived at the restaurant, Kirishima spotted all his friends gathered together at one large table. He bounded over to them with Bakugou’s hand in his, smiling as he came to a stop behind Kaminari’s seat. “Hey guys!”
They went quiet.
“Is something wrong?”
Five pairs of eyes narrowed at them before finally Mina broke the silence. “Did you have a nice shower?” she asked.
Kirishima rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand. “I mean, yeah… Sure? Why?”
“Dude,” came Sero, “Tetsu told us how he heard you two getting in on the shower.”
“What?” Kirishima’s cheeks flooded red as embarrassment bloomed across his face. He was at a loss for words, stammering excuses as to how they were wrong.
Beside him, Bakugou gave his hand a squeeze, then took a seat on one of the open chairs, looking smug. “What’s your fucking point?” He shot a glare at Tetsutetsu and Kirishima gulped. “You jealous you didn’t get your ass eaten out in the shower too?”
Kendou snorted, and Kirishima wished the floor would open up and swallow him into the depths of the unknown.
Notes:
How did this PWP get to 30k and counting?? Apparently I am shadow banned, so you lovely folks here on AO3 got to read the smutty shower sex before the twitter thread readers did. Congrats. Who knows when I'll end up updating it there. I have a lot of stuff going on right now, so it'll probably be awhile again before I update. I have some ideas for the next chapter, but overall, I still have no clue where this fic is going. haha....
Comments and kudos are always appreciated. If you want to stay up to date on my other projects, consider giving me a follow on Twitter (or Tumblr or Pillow Fort.....) or come join my 18+ Discord server where I chat a lot and post WIPs and stuff.
Thanks,
@hyuge_chan ♥
Chapter 7
Notes:
Let me just creeeeeeep in here with an update after four months.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Having Bakugou join his friend group had gone better than Kirishima could have imagined. Despite his brusque personality, he got on well with Kirishima’s friends. Sometimes, too well. He had no problem teasing Kirishima in front of the others, but it was all in good nature, so he didn’t really mind. He honestly couldn’t believe how well things were going between them. And now that Kirishima had been invited over to Bakugou’s apartment, they usually ended up spending all their time there.
Bakugou would still clean Kirishima’s small apartment for him, though he no longer accepted money for it, and since Kirishima was always at Bakugou’s apartment, little work actually needed to get done. He hadn’t slept in his own bed in five days. He would finish with work, school, or judo and Bakugou would be waiting for him with his car to bring him back home. It was sweet. If this was what it was like to have a boyfriend, Kirishima never wanted it to end.
The problem, however, arose one Thursday night in the form of a phone call from another blonde bombshell. Kirishima was on his knees with Bakugou’s dick in his mouth as his boyfriend sat on the sofa when his phone started to ring. Bakugou groaned, shot a look at his phone, then silenced it as Kirishima continued to suck him off. Their silence, however, was short-lived. It rang again, and again, until Bakugou had no choice but to answer the call. Kirishima stared up at him, wondering if he should continue but Bakugou waved his hand for him to stop.
“What?!” snapped Bakugou to the person on the other end. A distinct, high-pitched voice chimed in a sing-song tone through the receiver. “No. We’re not going to your fucking house. Quit calling!” Bakugou hung up the phone.
“Everything okay?” asked Kirishima. Before Bakugou could answer, there was a buzzing in Kirishima’s back pocket. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and was surprised to see a number he didn’t recognize on the screen. Unknown caller?
“Don’t fucking answer that—”
“Hello?” Kirishima greeted.
“Eiji-baby how are you?” sang Camie’s distinct voice.
“Um, good,” he answered. “How did you get my number?”
“Please. As if I wouldn’t have my bestie’s boo’s digits. You’re fam now.”
“Thanks?” Kirishima cocked a brow and looked up at Bakugou to see an incredible annoyed expression on his face. He sunk into the back of the couch and buttoned his pants. “Did you need something? We were kind of busy…”
“Bet. So, I’m thinking of like a lowkey fam fest—”
“A what?”
“A party, boo, but like… chill, ya’know?”
“I guess.”
“What does she want?” asked Bakugou.
“I think she wants to invite us to a party?” Kirishima put the phone on speaker and went to sit beside Bakugou on the couch.
“We ain’t goin’ to no fucking party.”
“Katsuki, bestie, buddy ol’ pal, it’s chill. Just like dinner and some drinks. Super cas.’ Eiji-boo, you can invite anyone you want. Fairly sure Momo already sent the deets to Itsuka. They’ve like become totes inseparable, got lunch after the party. I think they might be soulmates.”
“I’m hanging up,” groaned Bakugou, reaching for Kirishima’s phone.
“I mean, it sounds like it could be fun,” said Kirishima. “As long as it’s not some big fancy shindig like that last party.”
“It’s not! Just friends having a fun time. No formal drip. Bring your friends. We can like play games and stuff.”
Kirishima could tell Bakugou wanted to say no in a slew of expletives. “Sure. Sounds like fun.”
“Dope. You can always come without Katsuki too. Wet blankets need to be aired out to dry.”
“Fuck you. Kirishima ain’t going anywhere near you without me around.”
Kirishima chuckled. It was cute to see Bakugou get so worked up. This meant they were both going to the party, and while he wouldn’t want to go without Bakugou, Kirishima did want to get to know his friends better.
“I’ll text you the deets. Ciao.” Camie hung up without a reply.
Kirishima put his phone back in his pocket and turned to see Bakugou scowling at him. “What?”
“Are you trying to drive me to an early grave?”
“I want to get to know your friends, like you’ve been getting to know mine.”
“It’s different,” Bakugou huffed. “My friends are annoying as hell and if any of them heard me call them my friends, they would never let it go.”
“You should really be nicer to your friends.”
“Fuck that. They all have massive egos. If I were nice to them, they would start to think I like them.”
And that’s a bad thing? thought Kirishima.
“Can’t believe I got blue balls for this,” muttered Bakugou.
Kirishima fought back a snort. He turned to Bakugou, lips trembling from the suppressed laughter. “Is that you’re so grumpy? Because I didn’t finish you off?”
“Fuck you. I told you not to answer the phone.”
Kirishima smirked and shifted his spot on the couch until he was seated in Bakugou’s lap facing him. He ground down on his lap and kissed along his throat, lingering on his pulse point to suck and nip the tender area. “Nothing’s stopping you from fucking me,” he said in a low breath.
Bakugou clenched his jaw and nodded. His arms wrapped around Kirishima’s ass, and he hoisted him into the air to head toward the bedroom. “See. I like this better than some stupid ass party.”
“I still want to go to the party,” Kirishima corrected.
Bakugou huffed and kicked his door shut. The time for talking was over. Kirishima was tossed down onto the bed and he watched as Bakugou undid his pants, kicking them gracelessly across the room before slotting himself between Kirishima’s thighs. “You’re not going to remember that party by the time I’m done with you.”
“We’ll see about that,” laughed Kirishima as he threw his head back onto the pillows. Hot breath and a wet tongue dragged across the length of his stomach and oh was it good, but not so mind-numbingly shattering that won’t be reminded of the text from Camie later that evening with a time and date for the party in it.
It’s pretty damn good sex though.
Much to Bakugou’s dismay, Kirishima invited his friends to Camie’s party as requested. It was strange inviting them to someone else’s house but since Kendou was in fact already going thanks to that Yaoyorozu person, the others were quick to agree. Tetsutetsu didn’t seem too thrilled, still wholly convinced that they might try to murder them as part of some ritualistic game, but he wouldn’t let his significant other go unprotected.
Bakugou sat on Kirishima’s couch scrolling through his phone looking bored as Kirishima finished getting ready. Kirishima pulled a hoodie on and smiled as he grabbed his wallet and keys. “I’m ready,” he declared.
Bakugou looked up from his phone and grunted. “Which of the idiots are we picking up for this stupid party?”
Kirishima held a hand out to help Bakugou to his feet and he took it without a word. “Sero, Ashido, and Kaminari. Tetsutetsu and Kendou are driving separately.”
Bakugou wet his lips. “Is that purple-haired loser coming?”
“You have to learn their names eventually,” whined Kirishima, “and I’m not sure. I told Shinsou about it, but he said he had to see what he was doing. He wasn’t sure if Monoma had any date plans in mind for this weekend.”
“Well let’s go. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave.”
Kirishima glowered at him, but Bakugou just rolled his eyes. They slipped their shoes on, and Kirishima locked the door on their way out. When he turned around, Bakugou had his hand held out for Kirishima to hold it. Cute, he thought, taking the proffered hand, and walking down the hall towards the apartment building exit. The parking lot was empty when they got outside, headed towards Bakugou’s car. Its slick interior never ceased to amaze Kirishima.
“Maybe I should get a car,” he muttered absently.
Bakugou scoffed. “Do you even know how to drive?” He put the keys in the ignition and shifted the car into drive.
“You could teach me,” said Kirishima, hopeful.
Bakugou quirked a brow. “That sounds like a terrible idea but sure. If you really wanna learn.” Kirishima smiled at him, and they linked hands once more, resting their wrists on the center console. “Which way to Dunce Face’s apartment again?”
“Turn right at the next block.”
They picked up Kaminari, then Ashido, and lastly Sero. Ashido was stuck in the middle in the backseat, pink hair perfectly fluffed. They all chatted amongst themselves, and as Bakugou turned the car down the street that the massive Todoroki estate was located on, he pulled off to the side of the road, putting the vehicle in park.
“Why are we stopping?” asked Kirishima.
Bakugou turned in his seat so that he could face all four of them. “Ground rules—”
“Okay, grandpa,” snarked Kaminari.
“I’m serious.” His voice was stern, and he lowered his expression into a glower. “If Camie offers you shots, you do not take them. We leave when I want to leave—” that one was aimed at Kirishima “—and if any of you fuck faces start your petty drama, you can call a cab to take you home.”
“Why would there be drama?” Sero looked genuinely confused.
“When isn’t there drama with you lot?” Bakugou pointed to Kaminari first. “If purple-haired eyebags is here, you better not whine the whole time.” He switched from one pointed finger to two, fixing his middle finger and index finger on Sero and Ashido. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on with the two of you, but I’m sick of your will-they-won’t-they vibes. And you—” it was Kirishima’s turn again “—stay out of the goddamn sex room.”
“Sex room?” A chorus of voices rang out in the backseat and Kirishima’s face turned beet red.
Kirishima buried his face in his hands as Bakugou put the car back in drive to pull into the estate. His friends had plenty of questions about the sex room but there was no way Kirishima was telling them about it. He just muttered at them to leave him alone. Bakugou had done that on purpose. He knew they would want answers and Kirishima was not going to give them.
Bakugou veered the car past the main entrance and around the side of the estate.
“Where are we going?” asked Kirishima.
“If Camie is ‘keeping it cas’ as she says, then we’ll be in the annex. Todoroki and his siblings always spend time together in this area of the mansion as far away from their father as possible.”
“If they don’t like their dad, why do they still live at home?” asked Kaminari.
Bakugou shot him a look in the rearview mirror. Kirishima watched as he scrunched up his brows. “Because rich people are nothing without their money. As much as they complain, they still tolerate him if it means they aren’t cut off.”
“Aren’t you rich?” asked Sero, curiously.
Bakugou huffed. “I earned my money. My parents have an architecture firm that they started from the ground up. I may have been sent to a boogie high school, but I got into university based on my academics and then earned my job through the connections I developed, not because my parents paid for me to have it.”
Kirishima was surprised to hear Bakugou unload like that. He was still aloof when it came to details about himself. Kirishima has tried not to pry too much, wanting to give Bakugou the opportunity to open up to him organically, but like having to go to a party against his wishes to get to know his friends, Kirishima figured he would have to pull teeth to get Bakugou to tell him about his home life. Hearing him talk about his parents, albeit the small amount that he did, was comforting. He leaned over the center console to press a kiss to Bakugou’s cheek.
“Sap,” he muttered.
“Only for you,” said Kirishima.
“I highly doubt that. You cry during cooking competitions on tv.”
“They just work so hard!” Kirishima snapped back.
“So gay,” said Kaminari in the backseat.
“Takes one to know one,” quipped Bakugou.
“Really? Are we five? I’ll have you know; I am a lover of all people.”
Bakugou looked at Kirishima to translate and he mouthed “pansexual” back at him. He nodded his head in acknowledgement and put the car in park. They were in a small lot near the back of the mansion. Kirishima could hear loud music coming from somewhere within the house and silhouettes danced across the curtains covering the windows. “All right. Let’s get this shit over with.”
There were a lot of people present for a “chill” party. Bakugou had warned him, but Kirishima still didn’t know what to expect. Camie’s version of dressing casual was a V-neck jersey gown in a metallic gold. Fortunately, everyone else was dressed in relatively normal clothes except for her friend Yaoyorozu who was dressed equally as extravagantly. Rich ladies. Kirishima shook his head.
They were in some sort of annex off the main house, but it was just as ornately designed as the rest of the mansion from Kirishima had seen. There were three large sofas situated in a U-shape for conversation. A large coffee table stretched out between them. Across from the sofas was a massive fireplace with a seventy-inch television mounted to the wall above the mantel. French doors led to a patio area where a fire was dancing in the pit. There were twinkle lights strung up along the patio to see and a bubbling fountain in the garden.
On the opposite wall was a small kitchenette. A cart was parked next to the counter with a variety of liquors in fancy bottles that Kirishima had never seen before. A variety of hors d'oeuvre covered the expanse of the counter and the refrigerator was stocked full of fruits and beverages. Kirishima’s eyes lit up at the trays of cocktail weenies and meatballs. He made himself a plate right away, then settled into the sofa to eat. Bakugou sat next to him with his arm stretched over Kirishima’s shoulders as he leaned back into the cushions, sipping his whiskey. Kirishima smiled at the warmth of Bakugou’s body pressed into his side.
Kaminari sat on the other side of Bakugou talking to his friend Midoriya who radiated nervous energy. Green eyes kept darting in their direction and Kirishima couldn’t help but wonder if Bakugou had said something to him before they arrived. Their dynamic only served to further perplex him. People stood and sat all over the room. Ashido and Sero were talking to Camie’s friend Yaoyorozu on the opposite sofa, next to her sat her fiancé, Jirou. Her dark, purple hair was lightly curled to frame her face. Despite being engaged to Yaoyorozu, her clothes looked less expensive. They certainly weren’t as extravagant. Jirou was in a conversation with Kendou. Tetsutetsu sat by the fire with some big guy Bakugou begrudgingly introduced as Yoarashi. He was loud enough that Kirishima could hear him clearly even with the patio doors shut. Camie’s husband Natsuo sat outside with them. He seemed unfazed by Yoarashi’s volume. Shouto was in the corner talking to his sister Fuyumi, and—
“I still can’t believe the Bakugou Katsuki has a boyfriend.” A bubbly brunette with round, pink cheeks and a bob draped herself over Kirishima’s shoulders. Her eyes were glossy, and she sloshed her drink in her glass as her arms fell to rest against his chest.
Bakugou glowered at her and gave her a shove. “Get off him, Cheeks.”
“Boo,” the one called ‘Cheeks’ huffed in reply.
Camie crept up behind Bakugou and grabbed him by the chin with her thumb and forefinger, turning his head to face her. “Always a drag, never a Queen.”
Bakugou scowled. “The fuck does that even mean?”
“She s’ed you’re boring,” ‘Cheeks’ slurred. She pressed her warm cheek against Kirishima’s, smiling. “I’m Uraraka Ochako. I’m sure this dullard hasn’t mentioned me.” She hiccupped.
Kirishima shook his head but to be fair, he hadn’t mentioned most of his friends.
“Figures.” She exhaled a puff of air, making her bangs fluff up.
Bakugou ripped his chin free of Camie’s grip and pushed Uraraka off Kirishima. “You’re drunk.”
Camie caught her with ease. “I’m having fun,” Uraraka protested, clinging to Camie’s arm.
Uraraka’s appearance was very plain when compared to Camie next to her, but she wasn’t any less pretty. She had on a simple T-shirt and a pair of well-worn jeans. Camie smoothed Uraraka’s bangs out of her face in a gesture that looked too intimate for simple friends.
Camie whispered something in Uraraka’s ear, and she nodded before they walked away in the direction of the kitchenette. Kirishima snapped his mouth shut, then looked at Bakugou with obvious confusion in his eyes. “What—”
Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Don’t get me started on them.”
There was a barely audible knock on the door, and then Shinsou was walking in with Monoma under his arm. “Sorry we’re late,” Shinsou apologized.
He waved at everyone in the room. Tetsutetsu must have noticed them from his spot by the fire because he came walking in and dragged them back outside. Kirishima turned to look at Kaminari whose face had gone pale.
“You good?” asked Bakugou.
Kaminari looked at them. “Fine.” His voice was clipped. “I don’t have any claim over who he does and doesn’t date.”
Bakugou clicked his tongue. Kirishima could see from the twitch of his brow that his interest was piqued. “Why do you like that loser anyway? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him show you the time of day.”
Kaminari was quiet for a minute and Kirishima didn’t think he was going to answer him. “He’s kind of like you.”
“Hah?”
“Shinsou’s a little rough around the edges and kind of a loner, but he cares about his friends a lot. Monoma’s rude and loud, but if Shinsou’s dating him, then there’s gotta be something there we don’t see.” Kaminari’s eyes turned red like he was fighting back tears. He sniffled and stood up.
“Kaminari?” asked Kirishima.
He waved Kirishima off. “Excuse me.”
Kaminari walked in the direction of the bathroom, leaving Kirishima and Bakugou alone on the sofa together. Bakugou sighed. “I said no drama.” He got up to follow Kaminari with a look of guilt etched on his face.
Kirishima was left alone and unsure of what to do. Should he follow after Bakugou and Kaminari? He pressed his lips together into a hard line as he sat there thinking. Maybe some one-on-one time would be good for Kaminari. He decided to refill his glass and go join the others by the fire. The cool night air was refreshing on his skin as he shut the patio door. Tetsutetsu, Monoma, and Yoarashi were conversing loudly and standing too close to the fire for comfort. Kirishima moved to stand by Shinsou and Natsuo.
He heard a soft moan and noticed under the flickering fire light Camie sitting in one of the patio chairs with Uraraka in her lap. They were kissing and touching in a way most indecent for a public setting. Kirishima’s eyes bugged out and he looked at Natsuo with concern. “Um… The—is that…?”
Natsuo cocked a brow, unfazed, then glanced at his wife. “Oh. Yeah, no. Don’t worry about it.” He waved it off with a chuckle. “Just means I’m in for a good time tonight.”
“O-oh.” Kirishima’s eyes widened. The closest he had ever come to even imagining a threesome was the joke—at least he thought it was a joke—Bakugou made via text that one time. He couldn’t imagine being involved with multiple people at the same time. Kirishima looked at Shinsou. His face was blank as he watched the fire lick the sky. Red and orange flames danced in his dark eyes. “Would you ever do something like that?”
Shinsou turned his head to meet Kirishima’s gaze. “A threesome?”
Kirishima shrugged.
Shinsou shook his head. “I don’t think I could do something so casual, but I don’t think I would be opposed to multiple partners if it were something serious. Though, that only works if everyone gets along.” His gaze drifted to Monoma. “I wouldn’t want any of my partners to feel like I was cheating on them even if the relationship was established properly.”
“You’re surprisingly deep.”
Shinsou chuckled. “I guess I’ve just had a lot to think about these days.”
Kirishima swore he caught Shinsou glance inside the house, but it was over so quickly he couldn’t say for sure. They were interrupted by a small gasp. All heads turned to see Camie’s hand slide up the front of Uraraka’s T-shirt.
“All right, you two.” Natsuo walked over to Camie and Uraraka. Camie’s eyes lit up.
“Babe!”
Natsuo lifted them both in the air, hoisting a woman over each shoulder. Camie giggled and the skirt of her dress rode up her legs. Kirishima covered his face, seeing a sliver of skin that was not meant for prying eyes.
Shinsou cleared his throat. “Maybe it’s time to go.”
Kirishima nodded. “Y-yeah...”
Notes:
I am very nostalgic for the time before I started doing 10 billion fandom events and only wrote one fic at a time and updated weekly. Who is that person and how do I get her back? I hope you didn't wait too long and that you enjoyed this most recent update. I have been posting smaller updates on Twitter, but with the way the site continues to go downhill I'm thinking more and more about giving up on the thread updates and only posting whole chapter updates here. Nobody seems to be reading it on Twitter anymore and idk if that's because they don't see it or if they've lost interest. IDK. If you're here from Twitter and you have thoughts, I would love to hear it.
As always, I have literally no idea where I am going with this. I have decided that if this thing is still going on well into next year, I am going to end it by Maid Day (May 10th) no matter what the hell is going on with it at that point. So there's an end in sight at least, sort of. I'm hoping it'll be wrapped up before then though because I have a fantasy au that i'm waiting to start posting until either this is done or Say Something is done.
Thank you for reading. ~
@hyuge_chan ♥
Chapter 8
Notes:
Long time no see, Bare-ly Clean readers. I'm currently running a poll on Twitter and everyone is voting to keep the fic as fluff & smut, drama free, so congrats, no KRBK breakup/makeup for you. With that, there is only one chapter left.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Rise and shine, assholes!”
Kirishima woke to the sound of literal pots and pans banging in the living room. He let out a groggy groan as she stumbled about Bakugou’s bedroom in search of his sweatpants. They weren’t on the floor where he had left them, instead, Bakugou had made room for him in one of his dresser drawers. Kirishima opened the drawer to find neatly folded sweatpants and t-shirts, along with a couple pairs of underwear he had left behind in the apartment. It made his heart sing to see his boyfriend carving out room for him in his relatively empty apartment.
Though it wasn’t empty at the moment. Kirishima shuffled to the living room in gray sweats, sans shirt. He ran his hand through red hair and watched as his friends groaned loudly, not pleased with the abrupt awakening.
“You could be a little nicer,” Kaminari whined, clutching his head. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and winced at the morning light.
“I already let you three crash at my place when I didn’t want you to. Now it’s time to get the fuck out and go home.” Bakugou started banging the pots and pans again. Kirishima covered his ears with his hands.
“We don’t even get breakfast first?” asked Ashido. She crawled into an upright position on the sofa and draped her body dramatically over the armrest.
“You can have breakfast when you leave. Look at the mess you made.” Bakugou pointed to the empty bags of chips and cans of beer scattered around the coffee table. His otherwise pristine apartment was now a pig stye that could rival the way Kirishima’s once looked before he originally hired Bakugou to clean it.
Sero hissed as he dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Man, can you quit with the banging? My head is killing me.”
“I told you not to take shots from Camie. Not my fault you fuckers don’t listen.”
Kirishima decided that was his cue to try and placate his irritated, older boyfriend. He slipped his arms around Bakugou’s waist and pressed his cheek against the curve of his neck.
Bakugou clucked his tongue.
“Man,” whined Sero, “it took so long to fall asleep. You guys were so damn loud.”
Kirishima blushed.
Bakugou barreled on. “My fucking apartment; I can be as loud as I want.”
“If I never hear Kirishima moan like that again, it’ll still be too soon.” Said Kaminari.
Kirishima shifted his head so that he was resting his chin on Bakugou’s shoulder. “Come on guys, we weren’t that loud.”
“Oh Bakugou—Bakugou! Ah, ah. Ngh. S-so good. C-cumming. O-oh god! Ah!” Ashido gave her best Kirishima impression and he felt like he was going to die of embarrassment.
“Honestly dude, I don’t think I’ve ever had sex that sounded like that,” said Kaminari. He clutched the table as he pulled himself to his feet.
“Same,” agreed Ashido and Sero.
“Means you’re fucking doing it wrong.” Bakugou barked.
“Aspirin?” asked Sero.
Bakugou sighed heavily.
Kirishima smiled at him sympathetically. “It’s in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.”
“Thanks dude.” Sero headed off to the bathroom.
Kirishima released his hold on Bakugou’s waist and reached up to take the pots and pans from his hands. He grunted disapprovingly, but let it happen. Kirishima carried them back to the kitchen and returned them to the cabinet they belonged in. He could hear the others still arguing in the living room, but by the time he had returned, his friends were gathering their belongings to leave.
Sero and Ashido left first while Kaminari lingered in the doorway of the apartment. He held onto the handle, the door ajar, and chewed nervously on his bottom lip. Kirishima was about to ask if something was wrong when he finally spoke up. “Hey, uh, Bakugou?”
“Yeah?” he grouched.
Kaminari parted his lips with a shrug. “About last night… Just… thanks.” He spoke.
Bakugou rolled his eyes. “It’s whatever. Find someone that likes you and is single.”
“Thanks, Kacchan.” Kaminari blew a kiss at Bakugou, and his brow twitched.
“Do not call me that!” Bakugou slammed the door shut after him.
When they were finally alone in the apartment, Bakugou turned to Kirishima and sighed. “Are you hungry?”
Kirishima nodded, following after him to the kitchen. He took a seat on one of the barstools next to the breakfast bar and spun in place as Bakugou went about preparing their breakfast. The party had been interesting, and Kirishima was glad to have spent more time getting to know Bakugou’s friends, but he was thankful for this little moment of peace they had now. Between school, work, and judo, it was hard at times for them to find time together.
Bakugou turned on the burner for the stove as he whipped batter in a mixing bowl. Maybe it was coincidence, maybe they were in harmony, but he turned to Kirishima and asked, “you gotta work today?”
Kirishima shook his head. “Nope. I’m off until tomorrow night.”
“Good,” said Bakugou. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he turned back around to face the stove.
Kirishima smiled fondly as he watched him cook. He really had the best boyfriend in the entire world. Bakugou was the whole package—handsome, smart, rich, an amazing cook, excellent cleaner, and a skilled lover (not that he had past experience to compare him to). It made the inklings of self-doubt creep in whenever he thought about it, but Bakugou chose him. He went as far as to be offended by the fact that Kirishima had thought of them as anything else.
When Bakugou set a plate stacked with pancakes down in front of him, he cocked a brow, studying him. “What’s with the dopey grin?”
Kirishima smiled up at him brightly and reached for the bottle of syrup that was slid across the counter. “Nothin.’ Just thinking about how incredible you are.”
“Tch.” Color bloomed on Bakugou’s cheeks, and he drew his shoulders back with a scowl. “M’not that special. Now eat.”
Kirishima laughed around a mouthful of pancakes. “It’s funny how you can’t take a compliment even though your ego is so large.”
“S’not the only thing that’s large, and don’t talk with your damn mouth full.”
“See,” said Kirishima, as he swallowed down the food in his mouth, “big ego.”
“Whatever.”
A lazy day off together was just what the doctor ordered. Kirishima was an extrovert, but even he needed to recharge his social battery every once in a while. He and Bakugou lazed around the apartment watching tv for most of the day. They stayed snuggled up on the sofa together once the living room was picked up. Kirishima would need to go home in the morning. He had homework to do and had to change into his work clothes. Part of him wished he didn’t have to return to his little apartment. It was okay for what it was (cheap and affordable). He didn’t hate the place by any means, but Bakugou’s apartment was more luxurious. He felt spoiled being there as much as he was. Even if he weren’t still a college student, Kirishima didn’t think he’d ever be able to afford a place like this.
He curled into Bakugou’s side as they watched an action movie and Bakugou wrapped his arm around him. It was so comfortingly domestic that Kirishima hadn’t even realized he was starting to doze. He woke up a while later when Bakugou was grumbling about how he couldn’t feel his arm and shuffled out from underneath him.
“Sorry,” slurred Kirishima, still half-asleep.
“It’s fine. You can go back to sleep if you want. I’m gonna start dinner soon anyway.”
Kirishima rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Nah. I’d rather spend time with you.”
Bakugou hummed. “I have a suggestion on how we can spend time together.”
“Oh yeah?” That had Kirishima perking right up. He sat on his knees, staring up at Bakugou expectantly.
Bakugou let out a haughty laugh and held out his hand. “Come on, idiot.” Kirishima readily took it, following Bakugou into the bedroom. He pushed the door shut and spun Kirishima around so that they were facing one another. Bakugou drew Kirishima into him, pressing their chests flush with one another and tipping his chin for their lips to meet.
Kirishima let go of Bakugou’s hand, opting to twine his fingers into ashen blond locks at the back of Bakugou’s head. Bakugou responded in kind as he wrapped one arm behind Kirishima’s back, his hand cupping Kirishima’s ass, and the other firmly placed on the back of his neck. Kissing alone was always so electrifying. That, coupled with everything else they did, made Kirishima’s body vibrate with anticipation every time they were together. He let Bakugou guide him back to the bed as their tongues danced together, exploring each other’s mouths.
The back of his legs hit the mattress and he was laid out on the bed. Bakugou hovered over him as he broke the kiss, moving his way down, lips grazing Kirishima’s most sensitive skin as he went. Bakugou sucked on his pulse point and a shiver ran down Kirishima’s spine. He arched his back and warm hands slipped under his shirt, pushing it up and over his head. Bakugou tossed it to the floor, leaving Kirishima’s chest exposed. He continued sucking and nipping on exposed flesh and Kirishima moaned as those strong, firm hands cupped his pecs.
Kirishima’s hands found purchase in Bakugou’s hair once more as Bakugou swiped his tongue over one of Kirishima’s nipples. He bucked his hips, chasing friction as their clothed erections ground against each other.
“Someone’s in a hurry,” Bakugou teased.
“You’re the one—” Kirishima groaned “—that couldn’t get enough last night.” Bakugou was the whole reason his friends were teasing him earlier in the morning.
A smirk danced along Bakugou’s lips, and he released the hold on Kirishima’s chest to reach for the bottle of lube that was sitting out from the night before. Bakugou leaned back as she shucked Kirishima’s pants off his legs, tossing them onto the pile on the floor. He lathered his fingers and pressed the first one in with little protest. Kirishima was still soft and pliant. One finger quickly became two. He crooked his fingers, running them along the walls. Kirishima moaned, feeling a faint tease as the tip of Bakugou’s middle finger brushed lightly against his prostate.
Bakugou took him in his mouth as he worked in a third. Kirishima gasped, feeling the sweet heat of Bakugou’s mouth as he worked his way down Kirishima’s shaft. His tongue laved over the underside, flicking back and forth against the vein. All Kirishima could hear was the squelching sound of Bakugou’s fingers inside him and slurping spittle that threatened to leak from his mouth. He moaned louder, hips lifting off the bed as he chased the heat building in his abdomen. He was close.
Bakugou pulled free, wrenching his fingers out of Kirishima, and lifting his head from Kirishima’s cock. He fell to the bed, his orgasm ripped away from as he was about to step over the edge. Kirishima looked down the length of his body, a scowl on his face. Bakugou smirked, pleased with himself that he didn’t let Kirishima finish.
“Jerk,” Kirishima hissed, slamming the back of his head on the pillows.
A low chuckle escaped Bakugou’s perfect lips, and he shed the rest of his clothes. Kirishima watched as he worked his hand up and down the length of his cock, coating it in lube. It wasn’t fair how he could look so hot stroking himself. Everything he did, he did with perfection. Kirishima groaned.
“What?” asked Bakugou, that teasing grin on his lips.
“Nothing.” Kirishima draped his arms over his eyes, refusing to watch any longer. He felt the weight of the bed shift and Bakugou’s knee pressed firmly against the curve of his ass. Warm breath ghosted over his ear and then his arms were being moved out of his face.
“Are you jealous over me touching myself?”
Kirishima pursed his lips, heart fluttering in his chest. “No,” he pouted. “You’re just so perfect,” he muttered.
Bakugou’s laugh was melodious, infectious even. Again, it wasn’t fair. He wrapped his hands around Kirishima’s thighs, spreading his legs apart, and slotted the head of his cock against Kirishima’s ass. His hole puckered, squeezing air, waiting to be filled. Bakugou kissed him as he took his hips into his hands, lifting Kirishima up enough to slide in with ease.
Kirishima exhaled contentedly, pleased to finally be filled. He ground his hips down on Bakugou’s cock as he pushed himself all the way in. A grunt came from above him, and Kirishima looked up to see blond brows knit together. He looked ready to blow despite it having been less than twelve hours since they last had sex. Kirishima reached up. He ran his thumb over Bakugou’s brow, smoothing the creases on his forehead. Bakugou caught his hand and kissed him on the palm, then the wrist, then his forearm, making his way down. Kirishima shuddered.
“If anyone’s perfect, it’s you,” Bakugou breathed against Kirishima’s skin. He pressed another kiss on the inside of Kirishima’s arm and thrust to punctuate his point. “You make me not hate being around other people which is a pretty big deal.”
Kirishima pressed his lips together and wrapped his other arm around Bakugou’s back. “You’re smart and handsome and good at cooking and cleaning.” He moaned as Bakugou hit his prostate. A wave of pleasure surged through him, making his muscles stiffen.
Bakugou seemed to take it as a challenge to shower Kirishima with equal amounts of praise. “You’re ripped, you feel amazing on my dick, and your positive attitude is infectious.”
Kirishima blushed. His body burned with embarrassment from Bakugou’s words and the feeling of his hands roving over chiseled flesh.
“I’d be a mess without you,” said Bakugou, more to himself than Kirishima.
“What—ah!” Kirishima curled his hands in the bedsheets and moaned. He felt the way Bakugou’s cock throbbed inside him. Each thrust brought him closer to the precipice once more. “B-Bakugou,” he gasped.
Bakugou cooed above him. He stroked his thumb gently along the curve of Kirishima’s jawline, then moved his hand down between them. He wrapped his hand around Kirishima’s cock, pumping in time with his thrusts.
Kirishima spilled between them, his stomach warm with spunk. He tried to catch his breath, but every thrust punched another gasp out of his lungs, leaving him winded. Kirishima pressed his hand to his stomach, mindful of the cum on his body, and felt where Bakugou’s cock was inside him. He pressed down and Bakugou’s eyes grew wide, pupils blown. Bakugou quickened his pace, slamming into him at a brutal rate.
When he finally came, Bakugou collapsed on the bed beside Kirishima, spread-eagle. His chest and cheeks were flushed red and sweat beaded down his brow. Kirishima nuzzled into his side, feeling tired.
“Don’t fall asleep on me yet,” Bakugou chuckled. “We still need dinner.” He moved to get them cleaned up, then headed for the kitchen.
Three weeks later, Kirishima was sitting in the breakroom at work, going through emails on his phone. There was one from the rental agency that owned his apartment building. He tapped on it. His lease would be ending soon, and he knew they would be sending over a new lease agreement. Kirishima had full intentions of renewing the contract. He didn’t spend much time at home anymore, but the rent was cheap. Odds were high that he wouldn’t be able to afford anything else right now with only working part time. He was thankful his landlords were nice.
The email loaded on his screen, and he frowned.
Dear Mr. Kirishima Eijirou,
Attached you will find the new lease agreement for the coming year. The complex is about to begin heavy renovations and rent will be increasing to reflect the upgrades to the building and the apartments. Should you wish to continue your occupancy, please review the lease agreement with the updated pricing, sign and return it to the leasing office by X date. If you do not wish to renew your lease, you have until the end of the lease agreement to vacate the property.
Sincerely,
Fushikawa Property Management
Kirishima read the email three times, looked at the pricing on the contract, then collapsed in his chair with a sigh. “Shit.” Now what was he going to do?
Notes:
Thank you for reading. Comments and kudos are always appreciated. This chapter was very very soft, and it's probably pretty easy to tell where things are headed next. Thanks for sticking around this long. Can't believe this fic will be 40k by the time it ends.
Thanks,
@hyuge_chan ♥
Chapter 9
Notes:
Well my lovelies, here we are. Final chapter of this very interesting ride. Can't believe we're here 40,000 words later. 🙃
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Sero walked into the breakroom to grab his water bottle out of his locker. He took a drink, then turned his attention to Kirishima. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Hm?” Kirishima lifted his head to see Sero staring at him. “Oh.” He sighed. “Email from my landlord. They’re raising the rent on the building. I’m gonna have to move out. I can’t afford the new price.”
Sero hummed to himself then took a seat at the table by Kirishima. “How long you got?”
“Six weeks.”
Kirishima sighed again and slipped his phone back into his pocket. “I dunno where I’m gonna go. That place was super cheap, and I can’t really afford to pick up more hours here.”
“What about the dorms?”
“I’d have to wait until next semester to apply for student housing and that’d still leave me without a place for two months.” Kirishima stood. His break was almost over, and he hadn’t eaten anything yet. Food always helped take his mind off things, though he would have to be frugal for a while until he found a new place.
“What about Bakugou?”
Kirishima spun on his heel. “What about him?”
“Couldn’t you just stay with him?”
Could he? They’d only been together a few months and Bakugou valued his privacy and personal space. “No,” he said. “It’s too soon for something like that.” If he didn’t find a new apartment in time, maybe he could crash on Kaminari’s couch or something. He wasn’t sure what he would do with his furniture though.
“Well,” Sero shrugged, “if you need a high paying job that you only have to work a few hours at a time for, there’s always the red-light district.”
Kirishima choked on his saliva. “Dude!”
“I’m joking.” Sero laughed.
Kirishima had five weeks left and the apartment search wasn’t going well. He texted Bakugou that they weren’t going to be able to see each other for some time. He had to pick up extra shifts at the convenience store, he had no choice. It wasn’t a long-term solution, but he needed to save up for that security deposit. Kirishima was exhausted between classes, judo practice, and the late-night shifts at the store. He didn’t have time to finish his homework most days, and his grades were already starting to reflect it. He had started to nod off in class when Kaminari tapped him on the back.
“Dude, are you gonna live?”
Kirishima snapped his head up, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. “Huh? Y-yeah. Just tired.”
“Kacchan giving it to you that good, huh?”
“Shut up.” Kirishima hissed in a whisper. He flipped to a blank page in his notebook and started to quickly jot down the notes their professor had on the board. Kirishima was thankful Kaminari pestered him so that he didn’t miss anything important, but he was still irritable from lack of sleep.
The apartment search was proving to be a fruitless endeavor. Even if he managed to save enough money, it wouldn’t do any good without an apartment lined up to move into. He sighed. Kirishima would have to go through the listings again after class though he doubted there were any changes. Everything was too expensive, and no one was looking for a roommate.
The idea made his skin crawl, but Kirishima halfheartedly debated taking Sero’s advice. If he sought out work at a host club, he could easily afford a better apartment. It might even be nice enough that he wouldn’t feel embarrassed having Bakugou over. Wouldn’t that be nice? Kirishima daydreamed through the rest of the class, imagining an upscale apartment that wasn’t constantly falling apart. He had gotten quite good at fixing things in his building. It was good that his landlords were going to renovate, but why did it have to come at the expense of him moving out?
It had only been a week and he already missed seeing Bakugou. Kirishima wasn’t sure how he was going to get through the rest of the time without his scowling face to cheer him up. When class ended Kaminari nudged him in the side with his elbow.
“You good?”
Kirishima shrugged. “I have to move out and can’t find anywhere in my price range. Any chance you need a roommate?”
Kaminari shook his head as he slung his bag over his shoulder. “Sorry man. We already have one too many people in our apartment as is.”
He figured that was the case. “It’s fine. I’ll figure something out.”
Kirishima was running out of time. He was down to three and a half weeks left before he had to be out of his apartment. He started packing up his belongings despite not having anywhere to go. He had to be prepared for when the time came, no matter the outcome. Work dragged on late into the night and by the time he got him, he had nearly collapsed at the front door. His body slumped against the frame as he rifled through his pockets to find his keys. Kirishima stumbled into his apartment, surprised to find the lights on and a pair of shoes at the door. He raised a brow.
“Bakugou?”
“Living room.”
Kirishima dropped his bag at the door and walked into the living room. Bakugou was sitting on the sofa, arms folded across his chest, with his usual dour expression set firmly in place. Man, did he miss that frown. All the built-up fatigue washed away the moment he set his eyes on Bakugou. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
Bakugou huffed. “You kept talking about how busy you were, so I came over to clean. Figured if you were spending this much time at home, then your apartment was probably a shitshow again. Why is all your shit in boxes?”
Kirishima grabbed the back of his neck and rubbed nervously. “My lease is ending soon and they’re raising the rent so I can’t afford to stay here anymore. That’s why I’ve been so busy. I had to take extra shifts to try and cover move-in fees, but I haven’t been able to find anything in my price range.”
Bakugou was quiet as he glanced around the room. Kirishima was starting to wonder if he had done something wrong. Should he have told Bakugou sooner? He didn’t want to bother him with it. It was a personal problem.
“How long?”
“Huh?” Kirishima blinked.
“How long do ya’ got left on your lease?” Bakugou asked, annoyed.
“Oh, um, about three and a half weeks. I’m probably gonna be pretty busy until I can figure this out. I’m sorry. I know we haven’t seen each other lately.” For some reason, Kirishima felt like he was in trouble. He couldn’t bring himself to approach the sofa where Bakugou sat. Instead, he stood awkwardly a few feet away, rocking back and forth on his heels.
“Tch.” Bakugou waved his hand for Kirishima to approach. He did so hesitantly. “I’m not gonna fucking bite ya.’ Get over here. It’s your damn apartment.”
“Right.”
Kirishima moved to the sofa and took a seat on the cushion next to Bakugou. He placed his hands in his lap and chewed on the inside of his cheek. He was a ball of nervous energy, and he wasn’t sure what to do with it all.
“Stop that.”
“Sorry.”
Bakugou set his hand on Kirishima’s hands, forcing him to settle down. “Why didn’t you tell me you were struggling to find a new place to live?” He sounded hurt?
Kirishima lifted his gaze to meet Bakugou’s. There was a mixture of hurt and confusion in his eyes. “I didn’t want to bother you. It’s my problem to deal with.”
“Do I seem that unreliable?”
“What? No!” Kirishima clasped Bakugou’s hand between his and squeezed. “We just haven’t been together that long, and I didn’t want you to feel like I was asking for money or something. You always pay for everything, and I don’t wanna impose.”
“I pay for shit because I can, and I want too.” Bakugou was quiet again and Kirishima wasn’t sure what to say. “Move in with me.”
“What?” He jumped to his feet.
“Do you not want to?” asked Bakugou, wounded.
“N-no, it’s just… I do!” Kirishima said quickly. “We’ve only been together a few months. I have nothing to offer. There’s no way I can afford to split the rent with you. Plus, I assumed you would want your space. Spending the night is one thing…”
“Kirishima.” Bakugou stood up and shook his head. He captured Kirishima’s hands in his own and forced him to meet his eyes. “I’m asking you to move in with me because I want you too. You don’t need to split my rent. I can pay my own damn rent. Your lease is ending, and you need a place to live. I have a place with plenty of room for two people. You can save your money for school stuff or other shit that you want. You don’t have to stress yourself out with all these extra shifts. You look exhausted.” He added before Kirishima could rebuttal. “I like privacy and having my own personal space, but I also like you, and I’ve come to prefer waking up with you in my bed versus waking up alone. The last couple of weeks have been hell.”
Kirishima sniffled. “You mean it?”
“Of course I fucking mean it!” Bakugou took a deep breath. “Kirishima, move in with me.”
“Okay.”
Bakugou wiped away a stray tear that dared try to drip down Kirishima’s cheek. “Promise to stop overthinking shit from now on?”
“Okay.”
Bakugou nodded resolutely. “Let’s go to bed. You look exhausted. We can make a plan in the morning before I leave for work to get all your stuff moved into my apartment over the next couple of weeks.”
“Okay.”
“Is that the only word you know?” Bakugou sounded annoyed, but there was a smirk on his lips. Kirishima leaned forward and kissed him, then shook his head.
“No. Thank you. You’re the best.”
“I know.”
The last of the boxes had been dropped off at Bakugou’s—their (Kirishima still wasn’t used to calling it “their apartment”)—apartment a few days ago. All that was left was to clean the place. There were still three days left before he officially had to be out of the apartment and turn in his keys. Kirishima took the evening off work and agreed to meet Bakugou at the apartment when he finished with judo. Unsurprisingly, Bakugou was already there. Kirishima noticed his car in the parking lot before he entered the building.
The apartment door was unlocked, and he opened it to the sound of the vacuum. Kirishima had told him he didn’t need to get started before he arrived, but Bakugou was ever the diligent one. He felt bad. It was his apartment after all. Bakugou had taken care of so much for him. Kirishima wanted to at least make sure they split the work when it came to the cleaning but evidently, that was not the case.
He stepped out of his shoes in the genkan and walked into the living room. Kirishima didn’t see Bakugou, so he must have been vacuuming in the bedroom. He wanted to let his boyfriend know he had arrived and find out what was left on the list of things to do. From what he could see, the apartment was already spotless. How long had Bakugou been there? Kirishima stopped at his bedroom door. He had intended to call out to Bakugou but stopped in his tracks at the sight of him. There he was in the middle of Kirishima’s bedroom, vacuuming naked. It was just like the first time Kirishima had seen him cleaning his apartment. Only this time, Bakugou wasn’t bent over on his hands and knees reaching under the sofa. However, he was still a remarkable sight.
So much had happened in the last few months that sometimes it didn’t feel real. Kirishima had gone from being a broke, virgin, college student to a still broke college student that now lived in a luxury apartment with his hot, rich boyfriend that fucked him damn near on the daily.
He knocked loudly on the doorframe. Bakugou turned around to see him and shut off the vacuum. “Welcome home.”
“Why are you naked?” he asked, laughing.
Bakugou smirked. “Figured I would get undressed in your apartment one last time. Enjoying the view?”
“Always.” Kirishima walked into his bedroom to kiss Bakugou. He glanced up and down, drinking in his boyfriend’s naked form. “How much is left to do?”
“Just one more thing.”
“What?”
Bakugou wrapped his arm around Kirishima’s middle, resting his hand on the small of his back. Their chests pressed together, and they bumped noses. Kirishima gazed into burning scarlet eyes, as a light dusting of a blush spread across Bakugou’s cheeks. “You.”
Notes:
Thank you for reading. Comments and Kudos are always appreciated. ~ I feel like my himbofication of Kirishima wore off somewhere in the middle of the fic. Oh well. This was supposed to be a dumb little thread about naked cleaning services. What the hell happened? Anyway, I appreciate you sticking around until the end. Now that this is done, I can go back to focusing on Say Something and also maybe start posting my new fantasy series soon. We shall see. If you wanna chat, feel free to join my discord server.
Until next time,
@hyuge_chan ♥
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