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Shouto has no idea what he’s doing, but really that was the whole point of all this. Trying new things in an effort to ‘ruin’ his reputation, as his father would say.
His father is an asshole sitting high on his much too comfortable throne of the ceo world. Shouto was bred to be next in line to his kingdom, not that Shouto has ever had any say in that. He hates the business world. Old gray men in gray suits hungry for money and your soul.
Now that he was 21, his own soul was ripe for sale and the vultures were lurking, ready to suck the life out of him. Metaphorically, of course, but still spot on, Shouto thinks.
Shouto wasn’t a fool, he knew he was sheltered. The business world was beaten into him until he knew nothing else. Well, nothing except one thing; spending his fathers money.
Which led him here, sitting in a room so smoke filled it felt like it had seeped into his skin and soaked the odd patterned carpet under his feet. It was Saturday night and the casino was live with slot machine music clanging together with the dull roar of coins hitting metal.
In his expensive black turtleneck and designer shoes, he definitely stuck out; a sea of gossipy eyes had followed him when he got here as he made his way through the crowd of middle aged people all dressed in casual attire. He had only spotted a couple people his age, noting though that they all seemed to be drunk.
The only alcohol Shouto has ever consumed had been at business ‘parties’. Party being a loose term, of course. They consisted of an evening of rude and crass business partners of his father. He had been forced to attend every one. A learning opportunity, his father said. The only thing he had learned thus far from those nights was that men were disgusting and liked pretty women and white lines. So naturally, he spent his time at these ‘parties’ in a lonely corner, nursing on a glass of whiskey to dull his headache.
The atmosphere here in- what was the name of this place again? Oh well, Shouto hadn’t looked, just entered the first casino he had come across -was like night and day from those business parties. In place of angry whispers and expensive whiskey were colorful drinks and loud exclamations from winners and losers at whatever machine they were at.
Back to Shouto’s previous point though; he has no idea what he is doing. He’s sitting at one of the many card tables placed deep in the casino, a rather grumpy dealer in front of him and a drunk man to his left.
Shouto has never played this game before, he had picked a table at random.
“You lose again,” the dealer’s voice is rough and deep, and it does things to Shouto. His eyes are a piercing red and Shouto thinks if he stares into them long enough he would catch fire. A blushing virgin he may be, but Shouto knew when someone was attractive.
Shouto could tell the dealer- Bakugou, Shouto learns from the nametag placed neatly on his shirt, and no Shouto was not staring at his chest or the way the dark fabric clings to it -thinks he’s an idiot. Which, if Shouto were trying to win, he would agree.
Instead, Shouto smiles- or what he assumes is a smile, he’s been told he’s rather blank faced most of the time -and bets again, a higher amount this time.
Bakugou scoffs, shaking his head. “Alright,”.
Once again, Shouto loses, and he feels lighter. His father hates gambling, something Shouto has had to hear him ranting about quite a few times thanks to failed business partners who gambled away shared money. He would much rather Shouto spend money on material things instead of wasting it like this.
Which is exactly why Shouto is where he is at, losing round after round.
This dance continues; Shouto places a bet, Bakugou continues to think he’s an idiot, Shouto loses said bet, and then places a new one.
“Alright, I gotta ask,” Bakugou fans out cards with a strong hand. Diamonds, hearts and spades peaking through rough fingers. “Normally I see people crying by the time they’ve lost half the amount you have, why the fuck do you look so goddamn happy?”
Shouto knows little to nothing about running a casino but he is sure that the dealers should not be speaking like Bakugou does. However, there’s something about the crass language that Bakugou uses that makes Shouto lean into the table.
“It’s my father’s money, not mine,”.
“Ah, so you’re a spoiled rich kid,” The way Bakugou says this makes it clear he thinks he has Shouto all figured out now. Which irritates Shouto. Bakugou may be arguably one of the most gorgeous men Shouto has ever seen, but being assumed just another spoiled rich kid has him feeling aggravated.
Not that Bakugou was necessarily wrong. Shouto was rich and spoiled. It was the implications that came with that statement; that Shouto was a brat and expected things to be handed to him, had no value in money or other people. All untrue.
“Do not assume things about me,” Shouto straightens his back and narrows his eyes.
“Oh, touched a nerve there did I?” Bakugou smirks.
“Please do your job and deal the cards,”.
The temptation to spill his life story and explain why Bakugou is wrong about him is right there on the edge of his tongue, but he bites it back, shoving it down his throat. Past experience has told him that being so loose lipped makes most people rather uncomfortable.
Bakugou eyes him, his smirk widening to reveal teeth and Shouto refuses to admit that it does things to him.
He plays a few more rounds before deciding that he’s lost enough of his fathers money to be satisfied for the night.
As he leaves, Bakugou calls out, “Nice playin’ with you, Rich Boy,”.
Shouto gives another glare before walking away, ignoring the blush that spreads across his cheeks.
——— • ♧ • • ♧ • ———
A long grueling week with his father and other people he hates has Shouto strolling back into the casino again the following weekend.
He had a particularly long argument with his father that morning and now he felt like getting some silent revenge once again.
He says silent because his father doesn’t know about his rebellious activities. Shouto hears his father rage about enough things without adding onto it. Plus he would likely cut Shouto off if he knew. So, for now, it’s enough for Shouto alone to know that he’s rebelling.
The card tables come into view and Shouto instantly sees blonde hair and red eyes and finds himself making his way to Bakugou’s table. He can’t explain why exactly, since he left last week completely irritated at the man's assumptions about Shouto as a person. Still, he’s pulled to the table.
“Well well well, look who’s back,” There’s that deep voice again. “Come to lose more money, Rich Boy?”
Shouto says nothing as he sits down, already regretting his table choice.
His unresponsive entrance into the game seems to annoy Bakugou since his face screws up and he lets out a “Tch,” before dealing out the cards.
Opponents come and go, delighted by their winnings since, once again, Shouto is losing nearly every round. Once in a while he does get lucky- unlucky? -and accidentally wins. The pout on his face as he’s declared winner has Bakugou rolling his eyes.
“You’re the only goddamn person I’ve seen pouting that they won,” Bakugou shakes his head.
“It’s my-”
“Daddy’s money, yeah I got it,”.
Shouto frowns angrily. Once again, Bakugou continuing to think of him as a spoiled rich brat fills him with the need to explain himself. He takes a breath. “He hates gambling. I hate him. So I am losing his money,”.
Bakugou’s eyebrows raise and that smirk is back. “Ah, so this is about sticking it to your old man,”.
“Yes,” Shouto says in affirmation.
“Now I see,”. Bakugou looks smug, and Shouto doesn’t know if he’s annoyed about that or not.
Shouto has never felt so conflicted about a person before. Bakugou is clearly arrogant, smug, rude, think’s he’s always right, and Shouto absolutely does not like him. And yet.. there’s something about him. The man is so handsome it hurts. Shouto has never been vain, people’s looks never mattered to him before so he can’t fathom why Bakugou being attractive made such a difference.
Normally, Shouto would have gotten up and found a different table by now. Bakugou was far from the last dealer here. Hell, just in his peripheral he can spot four others splayed about around him.
So, why can’t he leave?
——— • ♧ • • ♧ • ———
Shouto returns to the casino the next four weekends, though by his sixth time it’s with less enthusiasm. Sure, he’s lost a lot of his father’s money, but this routine he’s settling into is becoming dull. Turns out gambling isn’t fun. At least not for Shouto.
Old cigarette smoke welcomes him as he weaves through slow machines too noisy and bright. When he comes to the tables he moves towards his usual one, and then pauses.
Bakugou isn’t there today.
The infuriatingly attractive man has also become part of Shouto’s new Saturday routine. He always plays at Bakugou’s table and now Shouto doesn’t know what to do since the blonde is nowhere in sight.
After standing in place feeling lost for another couple minutes, Shouto hesitantly moves towards one of the open tables.
Unfortunately, Shouto finds that without Bakugou there to annoy him, the game is even less enthralling. And yes, he sees the irony in missing the guy he, maybe, can’t stand.
He’s three losing rounds in, head resting in the palm of his hand, back slightly slumped, when he starts thinking about calling it a night and going home. The more he mulls the idea over though the more Shouto’s face pulls into a frown. He’s not a quitter, and hasn’t spited his father nearly enough.
He really is lousy at being a rebel child. Touya made it look so easy. Tapping his fingers on his cards, he wondered what his big brother would do if he were here instead of Shouto.
‘You’re way too straight laced, baby brother,’ He can hear Touya drawl out drunkenly.
Touya had told him many times just how to ‘stick it to their old man’ and Shouto had always brushed him off, too comfortable in his ways.
He straightens his back, folds out of the current round, and heads to find the bar. He’s never seen it, has no idea where it is, but he’s seen people with drinks and they had to come from somewhere.
After a few minutes of wandering and following drunk people he finds the bar. A wooden archway leads to a room painted in golden light from low lit lamps. The cigarette smoke is softened by the smell of liquor and the bar-
Shouto blinks. Oh, Bakugou is here.
He hesitates a moment, confidence faltering. The idea of drinking in a public space was less intimidating when he didn’t have to worry about his inhibitions being lowered around the handsome dealer.
Taking a breath, he pushes forward. It’s fine, he can still do this. He has a mission and refuses to let a silly, barely there attraction get in his way.
He takes a seat at the end of the busy bar, the stool cushioned by maroon leather. The surface of the bar is a reflective dark wood, and when Shouto lays his hands down in front of him, he’s pleasantly surprised to find it’s smooth and not at all sticky.
Glancing over, he sees Bakugou making a drink for someone on the far end of the bar. His usual long sleeved attire is replaced by a plain black v-neck shirt, and Shouto can’t help but notice how thick his arms are. It also shows off a few tattoos he didn’t know Bakugou had. He tries to look away but his eyes betray him, tracking strong hands as they work.
Bakugou finishes the drink, grabs the towel that’s slung over his shoulder and wipes down the area the patreon had just been, a look of frustration on his face. He makes his way over towards Shouto, not having spotted him yet, cleaning as he goes.
Oh, that explains how nice the bar is. The closer he gets the more clearly Shouto can hear Bakugou grumbling about ‘ fuckin’ messy drunk extras ’, stopping every so often to grab a beer for someone.
Shouto watches him the whole way, which is how he spots the exact moment that Bakugou sees Shouto. A grin he can only describe as dangerous instantly spreads across his face. Bakugou wipes his hands, throws the towel back over his shoulder and walks the last few steps over to Shouto.
“You must really like me, huh rich boy?” He crosses his arms across his chest and leans back against the counter behind him. The glass shelves are illuminated with a golden glow, and Shouto curses how good it makes Bakugou look.
“I did not know you would be over here,”.
“Right. You’re a regular drinker,” Bakugou rolls his eyes and even Shouto can tell he’s being sarcastic.
“I usually only drink at my father's business parties,”.
“Right, dear ol’ dad.” Bakugou pushes off the counter and places his hands on the bar directly in front of Shouto, leaning forward. Shouto wishes he would stop standing in ways that defined his arms. “So, you get tired of losing his money?”
“I’m trying to be more creative with how I- how did you put it, stick it to him,”.
“And alcohol was your first thought?”
“My brother always says I am too ‘straight laced’,”
Bakugou hums, giving Shouto a look he can’t quite decipher.
“May I order now, or is there more conversation required first?”
“Yeah yeah, what d’ya want?” Bakugou rolls his eyes.
“Anything but whiskey,”.
“That doesn’t narrow it down, Rich boy,”.
“I wish you would stop calling me that,”.
“What do you want?”
“I don’t know, I have only ever tried whiskey,”.
Bakugou sighs, cursing under his breath. “Okay let's try this, d’you like sweet or sour shit?”
“Sweet. I like strawberry-flavored things,”.
“Alright,” Bakugou gets to work preparing a drink for him.
Once it’s finished, he places the tall glass in front of Shouto. It’s bright pink with a cute little strawberry on top.
“Try that,”.
Shouto nods once before taking the drink in his hand. The glass is cold, ice clinking against the sides, and he has to be careful not to spill it since the liquid goes all the way to the top. He’s tempted to eat the strawberry first, but Bakugou is looking at him, waiting for feedback, so he takes the straw in between his lips and-
Holy shit.
Shouto’s eyes go wide. “Bakugou. That is delicious,”.
Bakugou looks more smug than Shouto has ever seen him. “Ha, damn right it is,”.
He takes another long drink. He can’t taste the alcohol at all. Why doesn’t all alcohol taste like this?
“Hey take it easy, that ain’t juice ya know,”.
Oh yes, he should probably take his time. He sets the drink down on a coaster before grabbing the strawberry on top and plopping it in his mouth.
“So, what now?”
Shouto tilts his head in confusion, still chewing.
“You have your drink, what’s next on the list to piss off your old man?” Bakugou exchanges the towel on his shoulder for a fresh one and starts drying off some glasses.
Shouto swallows the sweet strawberry. “Oh. To be honest I don’t know.”
Bakugou huffs a laugh. “You’re not very good at the whole rebel thing are you?”
“No, I am not,”. Shouto feels frustrated for being called out, but he has to concede that Bakugou is right. He has no idea what he is doing. Which was fine when all he had to do was gamble but now that he wants to do more, he has no idea where to start.
His frustration must show, since Bakugou chuckles, sets down his glass and leans on his elbows in front of Shouto.
“You open to suggestions?”
Wow, his face feels very hot all of a sudden. It must be the alcohol.
“Do you have experience in rebeling?”
“Jesus, don’t make it sound like a damn job interview.” Bakugou shakes his head. “But yeah, you could say that,”.
“Okay, what would you do differently?”
“Well gambling his money away was a good start, but I’m guessing he’s too rich to really notice or care about that.”
Shouto frowns and nods. Bakugou is right, his father has not noticed the loss in funds yet. In reality, compared to his wealth, Shouto really hasn’t lost that much of his fathers money. Sober Shouto was okay with that, not wanting the argument that would follow. Buzzed, on his way to drunk Shouto, however, is annoyed.
“There’s the basics, getting a tattoo or piercing, starting a fight and getting arrested, vandalism-”
“You’ve been arrested?” Shouto gasps.
“Yes, don’t fuckin’ interupt. As I was sayin’, you can do the basics but you can also go more personal. Think about what really makes him tick, what does he do that really pisses you off?”
Shouto chews on the end of his straw, thinking. The list of things his father does that quote, ‘pisses him off’ is a long one.
He tries to focus on narrowing it down and not the fact that Bakugou had mentioned getting a piercing and now Shouto is very curious if Bakugou has one and where it is.
That train of thought he avoids going down leads him to realizing that Bakugou is exactly the type of person his father would never let him interact with.
“He would not let me hang out with you,”.
“The fuck, he controls who you hang out with?” Bakugou’s face pinches in confused anger.
“Yes. People have said I am very sheltered.”
“No kidding,” Bakugou says in a way that suggests he absolutely believes that.
Shouto sets his halfway empty glass down. “It is very frustrating,”.
“Well there’s your fuckin’ answer. Hang out with assholes like me,”.
Someone calls out for Bakugou, demanding service, and Shouto has never been more irritated at a stranger before.
“Yeah yeah, I’m fuckin’ coming,” Bakgou walks away, leaving Shouto alone with his thoughts.
Hang out with assholes like Bakugou. Where does he find assholes like Bakugou?
It’s getting harder to think of a proper answer to that the more he feels the alcohol take effect. His limbs feel heavier and his chest is warm.
He has no idea how long he sits there contemplating Bakugou’s advice; he estimates it to be longer than 10 minutes but less than an hour.
He’s idly twisting his glass in his hands, staring at the way the liquid spins, the pink now pale due to melted ice. The outer edge is wet from condensation which drips down his fingers.
“You good, Rich boy?”
Shouto blinks up and sees Bakugou staring at him with a confused raised brow, now back to cleaning glasses.
“Oh. Yes,” Shouto assures before taking another long sip from his drink. It’s watery now, the taste of strawberries diluted. He can now taste the alcohol which has settled at the bottom.
After setting it down, he pushes the glass away. “Why am I so bad at this?”
“What? Drinking? Seein’ as you damn near finished that glass I’d say you’re doin’ just fine,”.
“No. Rebelling,” Shouto slumps against the bar.
Bakugou sighs, putting the last glass away on the shelf. “Fuck, alright,” Bakgou rest his forearms on the bar, leaning forward. “Me and some extras are going to a club tomorrow. Why don’t you come,”. It’s phrased as more of a statement than a question, and honestly the demanding nature with which Bakugou carries himself should repel Shouto. It should, but instead he finds himself genuinely considering this.
Shouto has never been to a club before. He never had the nerve to go alone and his father kept him from the type of crowd who he could go with. And now here’s someone offering to take him.
“Which club?” Shouto asks, like it really matters. He knows the names of exactly zero clubs.
“Diamonds and Spades, or some shit, you wanna come or not?”
Shouto nods quickly. “Yes I would like to come,”.
“Alright, give me your phone,” Bakugou says, pulling his own phone out of his back pocket.
Shouto does as he’s told, unlocking it and handing it over. Bakugou hands him his phone and it’s open to a blank contact page. He types in his name and number, listing himself as just ‘Shouto’.
“I’ll text you the address and time,”. Bakugou hands his phone back and Shouto glances at the name. He’s surprised to see his full name, first and last. Katsuki Bakugou. Katsuki.
“Katsuki,” He says out loud, deciding he likes the way the name feels on his tongue.
“Shouto, huh, no last name?”.
Shouto can’t tell if this is Bakugou genuinely asking or if this is sarcasm.
“I have a last name,”.
Bakugou rolls his eyes, “You’re fuckin’ hopeless,”.
——— • ♧ • • ♧ • ———
Shouto ends up standing outside of a booming club, the purple neon sign ‘Diamonds and Spades’ framed by two large playing cards, at exactly 8pm per Bakugou’s text message earlier that day.
There’s a rather large bouncer standing intimidatingly at the entrance and Shouto is wondering if the man always looks so angry, or if it’s simply a front he puts on to intimidate people from causing trouble, when he hears Bakugou call out for him.
A rough, loud, “Rich boy!” echoes over the noise spilling out the propped open club doors.
Shouto sighs, turning towards where the call came from. “How many times must I ask you to not call me that? My name is Shouto,”.
“Don’t care, Rich boy ,”.
Shouto is about to retort when he finds the words lost at the sight of Bakugou. He looks good. So much different from his casino attire. Leather jacket, black ripped jeans, black band tee that fits just so that Shouto can tell Bakugou most definitely works out. What really catches his eye though are the piercings. One on his left eyebrow and two on his bottom lip.
“Ah, don’t mind him, Bakugou’s nicknames just mean he likes ya,” A man with red hair throws an arm around Bakugou, giving Shouto a bright smile.
“Shut the fuck up, Shitty hair,” Bakugou angrily shrugs off the arm.
Shitty hair ? Shouto just glances between the two, now seeing one more standing behind them.
“Heyy, you must be Shouto!” A vibrant man prances in front of him, hair a brighter, more in your face yellow compared to Bakugou’s pale ashy color.
“Yes,”. Shouto feels what little social skills he has fly right out the window. He seems to exude energy, all eagerness and confidence.
“Back the fuck off him,” Bakugou shouts.
“It’s nice to finally meet you!” The redhead says.
“Finally?” Shouto blinks.
“Yeah, we’ve heard alot about-” The energized blonde starts saying before Bakugou cuts him off with a hand to the face, shoving him away.
“I’m Kirishima, this is Kaminari” The redhead says, gesturing to the other blonde who just got shoved away.
“It’s nice to meet you both,”.
“Alright, can we go the fuck inside now?” Bakugou doesn’t wait for a response, instead walking away towards the entrance.
Shouto hurries to catch up, falling into step with Bakugou.
He expects to be interrogated by the bouncer, who is alarmingly larger close-up, but he takes one look at Bakugou, nods his head and steps aside for them.
Shouto wants to ask if he knows the man, but then they’re stepping into the club and his senses are overloaded.
Where the casino was all old cigarettes soaked into carpets and slot machines, the club is loud electronic music and neon lights against black walls. There’s smoke in the air but it doesn’t smell of cigarettes. Instead it’s an odd mix of fruit and- is that skunk?
He thinks Bakuoug says something to his friends but he can’t hear what it was. Shouto flexes his hands at his sides, unsure of what to do. He’s so far out of his element and he feels it .
He tries to follow them through the dense crowd, wanting to stick close to Bakugou, but struggles. He doesn’t want to accidentally shove someone. He feels panic bubble its way into his stomach when a calloused hand grabs his.
Bakugou doesn’t look back, just squeezes his hand as he continues towards the bar and Shouto’s cheeks are absolutely on fire.
They finally make it to the bar and Shouto crinkles his nose. The difference between Bakugou’s bar and the one in front of him is night and day. The counter clearly has spills left neglected and long gone sticky and the bartender is rushing through orders being shouted at him.
It takes a minute but finally, Bakugou is able to order. Shouto is expecting the same order from yesterday but instead he’s handed a very tiny glass with clear liquid in it.
He pouts at it a moment, but looking up he sees that everyone else has the same thing he does.
“It’s a shot!” Bakugou tells him, leaning into his space so Shouto will hear.
Shouto nods, even though he doesn’t know what that is.
He copies everyone as they bring their glasses together for a cheers he barely hears. Then they all knock their heads back and down the shot in one go. Oh, shot. He gets the name now. He’s meant to drink it all at once.
He does and immediately feels his throat burn, a coughing fit starting that only makes the burn worse.
Bakugou laughs as he slaps Shouto’s back.
“I did not like that,” Shouto says once the coughing subsides.
“No shit, Vodka is terrible,” Bakugou has a maniacal grin on his face, hand still resting on Shouto’s back.
After that, they make their way to the dance floor. Kaminari glues himself to Kirishima, smiles on both their faces as they sway into the sea of bodies.
His hand is once again grasped by Bakugou, and Shouto is happy to be led. Bass thrums against his skin, sweaty bodies pressing against him. He still hates the feeling but the alcohol warming his gut makes him care a little less.
He’s not sure what it is, the small bit of alcohol, the smoke in the air he’s undoubtedly inhaled, or simply Bakugou’s presence but all at once Shouto allows himself to let go.
Allows himself to be manhandled when they're deep enough in the crowd. Allows Bakugou to press himself against his back and grab his hips. Allows the heat to consume him.
He smells the leather from Bakugou’s jacket; feels his warm breath on his neck.
Shouto’s hips are guided back and forth to the music, his shirt sliding with the motion until he feels careful fingers caress his skin.
“That’s it, just let go,” Bakugou whispers lowly in his ear, and Shouto shudders.
Shouto has never felt like this. Never allowed himself to feel like this. His whole life had been planned and organized from before his birth.
For the first time in his life, Shouto feels free.
Songs pass, at one point he sees Kirishima and Kaminari a few feet away in a similar position, heads turned towards each other, eyes half lidded.
“So how do you feel, Rich boy?” Bakugou’s voice is lower, laced with something Shouto can’t place. “Feeling like a rebel now?”
Shouto gulps, managing a faint, “yes,” he’s not sure if Bakugou hears. He tilts his head to the side, face inches from Bakugou’s. Hands trail further up his sides, Bakugou’s hips guiding them now.
Goosebumps spread on his skin, and his head falls back against Bakugou’s shoulder. Bakugou takes the chance to nose at Shouto’s neck.
“Tell me now if you don’t want this,”.
Shouto’s eyes flutter shut.
“Say the word, and I’ll let go and this’ll be as far as we go tonight,”
An anxious part of him considers it.
This whole thing started as a way to defy his father, and while he feels he has accomplished that- his father might literally explode when he finds out how Shouto spent his night -he can’t help but feel this is deeper than just rebelling.
Shouto is innocent. He won’t deny that. But he knows what this is. Can feel the press of Bakugou’s hardening dick against him. And as Bakugou breathes in and open mouth exhales against his skin, all he wants to do is- well whatever Bakugou tells him to.
Shouto presses back against Bakugou. “I don’t want to stop,”.
“You sure? This is more than just rebelling you know,”
Shouto shifts and looks straight into red eyes.
“I know,”.
And then they’re kissing. If Shouto felt heated before, he’s absolutely on fire now. Shouto has only ever kissed one person, and it was barely a kiss. This too, though, Bakugou guides him through.
Soft lips move against his, slow and delicately. They’ve stopped swaying, Bakugou bringing one hand up to cradle Shouto’s face.
Somehow Shouto ends up turning until they’re pressed front to front with Shouto’s arms looped around Bakugou’s neck.
They break away, panting into eachothers mouths.
“Come home with me,”.
Shouto nods.
——— • ♧ • • ♧ • ———
Shouto’s back hits the wall, Bakugou grabbing his hands and pinning them above his head.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Bakugou growls, mouthing at Shouto’s neck.
They barely managed to make it to Bakugou’s apartment, the cab ride filled with heated looks and a hand never leaving Shouto’s thigh.
“H-how long?” Shouto stutters out breathily.
“Weeks,” A bite to his neck. “Comin’ to my table every time, lookin’ all out of place and pretty,”.
He thinks I’m pretty? Shouto wants to ask but all concept of words disappear when Bakugou begins biting and sucking on one spot.
Fuck. Bakugou has barely done anything to him and he’s already a writhing mess in his arms. His hands are let go in favor of grabbing Shouto’s hips and then Bakugou ruts against him slowly.
Shouto sets his hands on Bakugou’s shoulders, slipping underneath his leather jacket and pushing it down. If sex is more intense than this Shouto isn’t sure he will survive.
All too soon, Bakugou is pulling away, looking satisfied with the state Shouto is in. Bakugou says nothing as he walks backwards, dropping his jacket unceremoniously onto the floor and then pulling his shirt over his head.
Shouto swallows down a whimper at the sight. Fuck, he was right when he said Bakugou looked fit. Beyond right, actually.
They don’t bother flipping lights on as Bakugou leads them down a dark hallway.
“It’s not too late to back out,”. Bakugou’s tone is as sincere as Shouto has ever heard it and if he wasn’t sure before, he is now. Shouto can see Bakugou is fully aroused, but Shouto knows Bakugou would let him walk away at any point and go home if he wanted to.
Shouto presses his lips to Bakugou’s again. “I want this. I promise,”.
They fall onto cool sheets in a tangled mess. Kisses more feverish and desperate now. At some point, Shouto loses his shirt and they both lose their pants.
Shouto looks up at Bakugou hovering over him, both their eyes half-lidded, and doesn’t know how he ever denied his attraction to this man. How he ever denied that he likes this man. He’s crude and vulgar, a bit of a know it all, but he’s also confident, sure of himself, and he, for some reason, makes Shouto feel safe.
Bakugou trails kisses and bites down his chest and stomach until he reaches the edge of his boxers, pausing once to glance up at Shouto for permission, which Shouto gives.
He lifts his hips as Bakugou guides them down and then throws them to the side. Another kiss is pressed just next to the base of his cock, close enough for Shouto to let out a gasp but still far enough to be teasing.
“Bakugou,” Shouto whines when he kisses again, a hair closer.
“Katsuki. Call me Katsuki,”.
“Kats-” Shouto breaks off into a moan when Katsuki takes the head of his cock into his mouth.
Katsuki has definitely done this before. Clutching ruffled sheets in his fists, Shouto chants Katsuki’s name like a mantra.
He brings Shouto just to the edge, his orgasm building low in his gut when Katsuki releases him with a pop.
Shouto whimpers loudly, too far gone to be embarrassed.
“Shh, don’t worry baby, we’re not done yet,” Katsuki kneads Shouto’s thigh once before moving to reach over him and grab something from the side table drawer.
A cap pops open and Shouto watches as Katsuki coats his fingers in a clear thick liquid; lube, Shouto thinks it’s called.
“Just relax for me Baby, okay?”
Shouto nods, wiggling slightly in anticipation.
Shouto searched up porn once. Two weeks ago actually. He didn’t masturbate often but that night going at it with just his imagination wasn’t enough. So he found a site that seemed safe enough and pulled up a video of a man opening another smaller man up before thrusting roughly into him. Shouto had barely made it halfway through the video before cumming.
All this to say that he’s now thankful he did it, since he isn’t completely clueless to what Katsuki is doing when he lowers his hand and presses a finger against his rim.
Katsuki takes Shouto into his mouth again, bobbing slowly. Shouto feels all tension drain from his body, fully sinking into the bed. Then the finger pushes in.
It’s.. not quite painful, thanks to the pleasure he’s feeling from Katsuki mouthing at his cock. It feels different though. Katsuki slides the finger in and out a few times, letting Shouto get used to the sensation.
Eventually, a second finger is added and it’s a bit of a stretch but Shouto wills himself to breath through it and relax like Katsuki told him to. The fingers thrust a few times before scissoring open.
“You’re doing so well, Baby,” Katsuki says, and Shouto keens at the praise.
At some point, a third finger is added. The stretch is starting to feel good. Or at least he thought it did, until Katsuki’s fingers graze something inside him that has Shouto’s back arching in a high pitched cry.
“There it is,” Katsuki smirks. He massages the spot over and over until Shouto is a moaning mess.
“Ahh.. Katsuu~” Shouto’s voice has a mind of its own, calling out without him even thinking about it. Shouto isn’t sure he’s capable of thought anymore. “Please,”.
Katsuki pulls out his fingers, pressing a final kiss to the head of his cock. “I got you, Baby, don’t worry, I know what you want,”.
Shouto watches, unable to look away as Bakugou shucks off his own boxers. Shouto isn’t exactly small but one look at Katsuki’s very hard very large cock has Shouto almost nervous.
Katsuki wastes no time rolling on a condom, slicking up his cock with more of the lube. He lines it up with Shouto’s rim, locking eyes with Shouto as he slowly presses in.
They both moan out together. Katsuki pauses a moment to let Shouto adjust. It does burn a little, but there’s pleasure too. A fullness that Shouto has never felt before.
Inch by inch, Katsuki pushes further and further into Shouto until they’re pressed hip to hip. Katsuki leans down to press a kiss to the corner of Shouto’s open panting mouth.
They sit like that for a moment, breathing into each other. Shouto’s legs move to wrap around Katsuki’s waist, ankles locked together and heels pressed into Katsuki.
“I’m gonna move now, okay?” Katsuki whispers.
“Please,” Shouto urges, wrapping his arms around Katsuki’s neck.
So gently, Katsuki eases out, and then back in. Every nerve on his body feels like it’s been ignited. All his senses are focused on the man thrusting slowly into him. Can only feel Katsuki’s touch. Can only see Katsuki’s skin glowing blue from the lights of the city streaming in through the sheer curtains. Can only smell Katsuki, all spiced cologne and sex.
A few slow thrusts is all he makes before Shouto finds himself impatient. He digs his heels in, moving his hips to meet Katsuki’s.
Katsuki takes the hint, his thrusts gaining in speed and power. And then, finally, that back arching pleasure returns.
Shouto unashamedly moans out. “ Ha , ha, Katsuki~”.
Katsuki growls . “Fuck, Shouto,”. And fuck if Shouto doesn’t feel that down to his very core.
Suddenly, Katsuki pulls out, flips Shouto onto his stomach, raises his hips up until his ass is in the air and head is resting on his arms sprawled out in front of him. Then he’s thrusting back in all at once.
“
Ahh~!
” Shouto absolutely wails.
Katsuki is pounding into him and this new angle has Shouto seeing stars.
The room is filled with the sounds of slapping skin and heavy breathing. Shouto is convinced it’s the best sound he’s ever heard, a heat is pooling in his gut once more.
“So close, Katsuki~!”
“ Fuucckk .” Katsuki’s thrusts become animalistic. “Cum for me. Cum for me, Baby,”.
And he does. His vision is blinded and he cums harder than he ever has in his life .
He vaguely feels Katsuki thrusting into him still, chasing his own orgasm, which comes shortly after Shouto’s.
Katsuki fucks them both through their high, hips stuttering.
Shouto, sensitive as all hell still, winces a bit when Katsuki pulls out. He collapses onto the sheets, panting into a pillow he’s clutched in his arms.
The mattress dips a bit as Katsuki gets up. Shouto doesn’t bother looking to see what he’s doing or where he’s going though, too lost to even open his eyes.
He drifts in and out of a headspace he doesn’t quite know the name of. It’s nice though. He feels as relaxed as he could possibly get. Falling into sleep right now would be all too easy.
He’s only alone for a few moments before he feels the mattress dip again, signaling Katsuki’s return. A warm wet washcloth is dragged over his skin, and Shouto practically purrs as Katsuki takes his time cleaning Shouto of any fluids, moving his legs as needed, which Shouto lets him do.
For some reason, being handled by Katsuki like this, gently and with care, is the most comforting thing Shouto has ever experienced.
Shouto barely registers it when Katsuki slides up next to him, encasing Shouto in his arms before pulling the blanket over them. Shouto burrows his face into Katsuki’s chest, sighing deeply.
How long they lay like that, Shouto honestly isn’t sure. It’s quiet, only the sounds of muffled nightlife echoing from the streets down below. Eventually, Shouto slips out of his peaceful headspace.
He blinks tired eyes, seeing nothing but Katsuki.
“You with me, Rich boy?” Katuki’s voice is low and gentle but still has that teasing nature about it.
“Hmm, yes,”. Shouto doesn’t quite know what to say now. Doesn’t know what this means. He’s not naive enough to think this means they’re a couple now. He knows what one night stands are, and he would hardly say he and Katsuki are acquainted enough to not call this a one time thing.
God, he hopes it’s not a one time thing.
“You’re thinking too hard, stop it,”.
“How do you think too hard?” Shouto’s brow pinches in confusion.
Katsuki just lets out a short breathy laugh. “Fucking hell, you’re really something, ya know that?”
“I am?” Shouto is still so confused about what Katsuki means but he looks up and sees the soft way Katsuki is looking at him.
“No more thinking, just sleep,”. Katsuki presses a kiss to Shouto’s temple.
“Okay,” Shouto whispers, allowing himself to settle in Katsuki’s arms. Thinking can come tomorrow. For now, he lets himself be lulled to sleep by Katsuki’s heartbeat.
——— • ♧ • • ♧ • ———
Shouto wakes slowly, eyes shut, listening to the sounds of morning city life. It takes him a moment to realize he’s not in his own bed. His first clue comes from the feel of the sheets. Silky smooth compared to his cotton ones. The smell is what alerts him to blink his eyes open. Someone’s cooking .
A salty aroma wafts into the room, along with the strong scent of coffee. If Shouto listens hard enough he can hear the sizzling of a pan.
Oh. That’s right.
Barely awake, Shouto searches around the room for his clothes and manages to find his boxers in one corner. Too lazy to find wherever his shirt ended up, he grabs a large tshirt from Katsuki’s closet that nearly engulfs him, coming down to his thighs, and pads out into the hallway.
Now that he’s not distracted, or in the dark, he’s able to get a good look at Katsuki’s apartment. It’s as clean as Shouto thought it would be. Minimalist decor. There’s a few pictures framed on his hallway wall that Shouto pauses and smiles at.
One frame holds a shot of Katsuki, Kirishima, and Kaminari. Katuski looks grumpy while the other two beam smiles at him.
Shouto suddenly wonders how the night went for them, since he can’t recall saying goodbye to them before they left.
Shouto shrugs, continuing down the hall. The kitchen comes into view and Shouto sees Katsuki with his back to him, working steadily at the stove. He’s in a pair of black sweatpants and nothing else.
How does he make everything look attractive?
It’s then, staring at Katsuki's defined back, that he remembers his questions from the night before. He has no idea what the social protocol is here and doesn’t want to mess this up. Cause, fuck , he wants this. Wants the rush he gets from being with Katsuki. Wants to keep feeling free .
Taking a deep breath, he pads the rest of the way into the kitchen.
“Good morning,” Shouto says, voice raspy.
“Morning,” Katsuki looks over his shoulder, face blank until he sees Shouto in his shirt. Katuki then sets down his cooking spoon and walks the few steps to him, wrapping his arms around Shouto’s waist.
Shouto drapes his arms around Katsuki’s shoulders, because it feels right to do so.
“Holy shit, you look good in my shirt,” Katsuki smirks.
“I couldn’t find mine,” Shouto says, because it’s the truth. Nevermind the fact that he wants to wear nothing but Katsuki’s clothes from now on.
“Hmm, good,” Katuski kisses him, and Shouto melts into it. “What are you doing today?”
It’s then that Shouto remembers what day it is. Monday. He’s supposed to be at work at- what time is it?
He glances at a clock on the wall, seeing it’s about 15 minutes before 9. Now. He’s supposed to be at work now.
“I have work. I’m already late,”. Shouto says, disappointment overtaking him. His father is going to be furious with him. Shouto has never been late.
“Damn. What time do you get off?”
“Six, if my father doesn’t keep me for overtime,”.
Katsuki makes a face at the mention of his father. “Fuck your dad. Let me take you out tonight,”.
Shouto’s eyes go wide and he can’t help but flush. “Out?”
“Yeah, out. A proper date, you and me, nice restaurant, then we come back to my place or yours, I don’t mind,” Katsuki looks determined and a little suggestive when he mentions coming back to one of their places, and happy .
“Okay,”. Shouto smiles faintly, a rush of butterflies filling his stomach.
They eat the food Katsuki has prepared and then Shouto is rushing out the door, not wanting to be later than he already is.
He’ll undoubtedly get an earful about his tardiness, along with his disheveled state. He straightened up his hair but he doesn’t have time to go home and change and there’s really nothing he can do about the blatant hickey on his neck. Katsuki looked particularly proud of that.
‘You gave me a hickey,’ Shouto exclaims, flingers brushing against the sensitive blemish.
‘Damn right I did,’ Katsuki beams, smiling smugly.
And yet, Shouto can’t find it in himself to care. Because he has a date tonight. With someone he really likes. And they like him.
He’s finally doing something for himself for a change.
Katsuki kisses him deeply at the door, taking his face into his hands like he’s holding something precious.
“Knock ‘em dead, Baby,” Katsuki grins.
Shouto leaves feeling like he’s on cloud nine. He may not know what he’s doing as far as relationships goes, or how to deal with the storm his father will create once he learns of this new development. But Shouto trusts that Katsuki will be there to guide him through it all. And really, not knowing what you’re doing is half the fun of life.
——— • ♧ • • ♧ • ———