Bakugou Katsuki is NOT a fuckboy (and Midoriya Izuku will die on this hill)

by lemonlimeade

Summary:

Midoriya Izuku's roommate has a lot of sex. Does that make him a fuckboy? Debatable (according to Midoriya).

But when Midoriya comes to the conclusion that it's impossible for himself to feel good during sex, it's up to his roommate to show him what a "good time" actually looks like. And maybe a few other things fall into place along the way.

Notes:

I have a much bigger project in the works but god, these smaller fics are like a breath of fresh air sometimes.

Midoriya Izuku has a roommate. His roommate just so happens to be his best friend from childhood. He also happens to be the biggest fuckboy on campus. Not Midoriya’s words, just everyone else’s.

 

Midoriya wouldn’t say that Bakugou is a “fuckboy.” Fuckboy implied a certain personality type that most people found unbearable. Though, then again, most people did seem to find Bakugou unbearable… And yeah, sure, Bakugou had a LOT of sex. Trust Midoriya, he knew better than anyone just how much sex Bakugou had. Their cheap, campus apartment had thin walls.

 

But he wasn’t like… Like that. He was smart, and so talented. He was brave, not just for his own sake, but for the sake of others. He was so… So cool. He may be crass, and blunt, and obnoxious at times, and perhaps he seemed allergic to actual, committed relationships (Midoriya swore he’s never seen the same guy leaving the morning after twice) but Bakugou could also be sweet. He cared very deeply, he just showed it in strange ways.

 

“Oi, Deku, take your pancakes already.”

 

Midoriya looked up to see a plate of steaming cakes set before him, dripping with syrup and melting butter. His stomach growled.

 

“Oh, thank you Kacchan!” He took the fork and knife that had been passed to him and he dug in. On the other side of the island, Bakugou leaned on his elbows and ate his own pancakes.

 

Bakugou’s cooking was the best, and Midoriya let him know every time. Not with his words, but with his practically incredulous moans.

 

“How do you make it so fluffy?” He asked, almost as if he was upset about it. Bakugou merely grinned at him as he stabbed another piece for himself.

 

“Shit ain’t hard. They’re just pancakes.”

 

Midoriya hummed happily as he ate another bite, delighted with the sweet taste. Pancakes were so filling, but when they were Kacchan’s, he just couldn’t get enough.

 

“Uh… Good morning?”

 

Midoriya whipped around at the sudden, unfamiliar voice, his eyes wide as he saw a stranger standing in the doorway to Bakugou’s room. When his heart stopped racing, he realized that he recognized the guy. Didn’t know his name, but he did know that voice. He’d heard it screaming through the walls, begging for more the night before.

 

“Good morning,” Midoriya said calmly as he sipped from the orange juice that had been pushed to him along with his breakfast. While the strange man was rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Midoriya studied him, getting to see him well for the first time. Ever since Midoriya had walked out onto Bakugou making out and getting handsy with someone on their couch sophomore year, his roommate had taken to whisking his partners into his room immediately upon returning with them, so Midoriya hardly ever saw them. But now he could see that he was handsome – of course he was. Kacchan had that pull. The man looked like he frequented the grungier pubs that Midoriya shied away from (but he’d go if Bakugou dragged him with.) His hair was dark and shaggy, and it draped in his face. His clothing was tattered and patched up (aesthetically, of course).

 

“Hey, that smells good,” the man said, his freshly woken voice starting to warm up, like the morning sun.

 

“Beat it,” Bakugou said, his voice flat. Midoriya turned back to see a deadpan look on his face as he hovered protectively over his own plate. Looking behind Bakugou, Midoriya saw all the batter had been used up. He hid his own last piece of stacked pancakes in his mouth.

 

“Oh,” the man said. There was a second of awkward silence before he shuffled back into the bedroom, presumably to grab the rest of his things.

 

Midoriya set his utensils on his plate just as the man returned, now with his jacket and bag, looking kind of hesitant by the front door.

 

“That was...great, by the way. You were...great.” Bakugou simply stared at him while he chewed casually, reminding Midoriya of an unimpressed cow (though he’d never say that to Bakugou out loud.) Whatever went on in that bedroom opposite his at night, it left their guests docile and smitten the morning after, practically begging to be domesticated by his roommate.

 

Bakugou finally swallowed his last piece of pancake and said, “Yeah, I know.” The man stood there for a second, seemingly slow to catch on.

 

“I’m kinda hungry…”

 

“There’s a diner down the street. The fuck do you want from me?”

 

The man finally stepped into his shoes and passed through the door with a last glance over his shoulder.

 

“See ya.” Bakugou simply grunted in response to that, and then the door closed shut. And again, silence.

 

After a second, Midoriya lifted up his empty plate, as if to take it to the sink. “Um…” he broke into the thick silence, hesitantly. “Thank you again, for the pancakes.

 

Bakugou just scoffed and rolled his eyes before grabbing the plate from him and stacking it atop his own. “Yeah. Somebody’s gotta feed your nerd ass.” Then he went over to the sink and started to clean up after himself.

 

Midoriya wanted to help, he really did. But when Bakugou had his back turned to face the sink, and he scrubbed the dishes with the sponge, that was the perfect time for Midoriya to study him. And he liked to study him.

 

Midoriya would continue to argue that Bakugou wasn’t a fuckboy. But he kind of did dress like one. His sweat pants draped from his hips. And his tank top hung low on him, the arms loose and revealing. And well, when it came to what it revealed… Even Midoriya couldn’t deny that Bakugou had the body of a fuckboy. He worked out, every morning before class, and then again at rugby practice. His arms were all muscly, and his waist tapered. The bagginess of those sweats couldn’t hide his ass. And his shoulders… My god. They were broad from that angle, and when he scrubbed the pan like that? Wow. I mean… Could you really blame all the guys that wanted to come home with him? Even with that nasty attitude? No, especially with that nasty attitude. Midoriya wondered if his bite was as bad as his bark.

 

Bakugou looked over his shoulder at him. Before Midoriya could even consider the fact that he’d been staring for too long, Bakugou said, “Don’t you got class in half an hour?”

 

“Eep!” When the words sank in, Midoriya jumped from the stool and raced to his room to prepare, hearing Bakugou cackling behind him. Of course his roommate had been smart to pick classes that started later in the day. Midoriya had thought nothing about it until he had to race out by 7:40 every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning for his World Empires class, while Bakugou was still in his pajama pants, passed out on the couch with a car magazine splayed across his pecs.

 

The door to his room burst open as he came back out, nearly fully dressed and jumping across the living room to the front entrance as he tugged on his socks. His notebooks and pens were tumbling from his unzipped backpack with the movements. He stopped to pick it all up while Bakugou leaned back against the counter and grinned at him like he couldn’t get enough of this.

 

“Bye Kacchan!” Midoriya called out, breathless and red from embarrassment as he rushed through the door. He was just able to hear Bakugou’s reply before it closed behind him.

 

“See ya, nerd.”

 

………………………………………….

 

There was this little cafe by the library that Midoriya and his friends liked to meet up at when they didn’t feel like studying. Lucky for them that day, it was nice out, and they sat outside to feel the sun warming their faces and the breeze ruffling their hair.

 

“God, is it just me, or is the coffee especially good today?” Uraraka was smiling with her eyes closed, a relaxed look to her at that moment.

 

“I think it might be Himiko, actually.” Tsu’s comment made her smile drop away instantly, her face burning red.

 

“Oh god, you couldn’t- You couldn’t hear, could you?” Uraraka smacked a hand over her mouth as she looked at her own roommate, mortified.

 

“Don’t worry, I have noise canceling headphones,” Tsu told her nonchalantly, as if that wasn’t even more embarrassing.

 

“Ugh.” Uraraka’s forehead slammed onto the table, rattling their cups.

 

“You guys really hit it off, huh?” Midoriya mused. Himiko Toga was supposedly Uraraka’s chem lab partner. He still recalled the beginning of the semester when Uraraka would complain to them about how freaky she was. As the weeks went by, the complaining really started to get a little bit...obsessive. Though he’d never admit that to Uraraka. It all came to a head when they finally had sex two weeks ago. And now, apparently, the other woman practically lived there. Midoriya had met her once himself. Uraraka was lucky to have the ever accommodating Tsu as her roommate.

 

“Yeah,” Uraraka murmured against her own arm, that smile returning to her face.

 

“I hope you’re being careful, Uraraka,” Iida said as he carefully tore apart his croissant and ate it in bites. “She seemed quite dangerous, from what I recall of her.”

 

“They’re being very careful, Iida, trust me,” Tsu told him. It only made Uraraka blush again.

 

“Gah! You’re making me sound like Bakugou!” Uraraka said with a laugh. The others around the table chuckled, including Midoriya (though his came with heated cheeks as well.)

 

“Are you still having trouble sleeping at night?” Tsu asked Midoriya, tilting her head. She always sounded so polite, but he saw that less than innocent glint in her eyes.

 

“I’m fine, really,” Midoriya tried to say. I mean, sure. Whenever Bakugou brought someone home, it was often late. And he could hear them for a long, long time. Sometimes he’d fall asleep and wake back up to it, like they’d never gone to sleep in the first place. But Midoriya had gotten used to it by then. Really, he had.

 

“Maybe you should bring someone home yourself. Show him what it’s like,” Uraraka said with a snicker.

 

“Please, I don’t want to get back at him, or anything like that. He’s my friend.” His very, very horny friend. Seriously, where did Kacchan even find the time?

 

“You know,” Iida said, oblivious to the flaky crumbs on his lips. “If you want a partner, the man working the register asked me for your number. I had declined as I thought that it would be an invasion of your privacy. But if you want, I can go back inside and-”

 

“No, Iida! That’s fine,” Midoriya rushed to say, waving his hands while Tsu and Uraraka giggled behind their palms. “I think I’m giving up on the dating scene.”

 

“What? Why?” Uraraka asked, suddenly concerned.

 

“Eh,” he started off, noncommittal as he looked off into the street. “It’s just never really gone right for me, you know?”

 

“It wasn’t too bad when we dated, right?” Midoriya gave Uraraka a sheepish look.

 

“It was only for a week.”

 

“It’s not like you’re the reason I turned out to be a lesbian!” She said, both in reassurance, and in defense.

 

Midoriya just laughed it off. “Yeah, well, I just don’t think I’m really cut out for that kind of thing. That’s all.”

 

“Not even if it was with Bakugou?” Midoriya looked then at Tsu’s searching eyes, and he felt the blush creep back ten fold.

 

“I- That’s not- Kacchan’s not really into that kind of thing…”

 

“I think he’s REALLY into that kind of thing.” At Uraraka’s statement, Iida nodded along.

 

“That’s not what I meant,” Midoriya muttered. He sighed, and leaned forward, feeling their attention focus in on himself. “He’s, he’s nice, right?” The two women scoffed, and Iida looked at him sternly from over his glasses. “He’s nice to me,” Midoriya corrected, to which everyone leaned back in silent agreement. “I don’t want him to stop being nice to me.”

 

“You’re scared he’ll start treating you like one of his fuckboy pulls,” Uraraka summarized, nodding sagely at his logic.

 

“He’s not a fuckboy,” Midoriya complained.

 

“Oh yeah?” Uraraka said, gearing up. They’d had this conversation multiple times. “You really want to get into this one?”

 

“You guys are mean,” Midoriya said with a pout.

 

“Deku. He goes to bars all the time! And he sleeps with people for like, one night, and then forgets their name! If he ever knew it in the first place”

 

“Just cause he has a healthy sex life doesn’t mean he’s a fuckboy-” Midoriya could barely finish his sentence before Tsu picked up where Uraraka left off.

 

“He works out every day at the gym and drinks protein powder.”

 

“What, is that a crime?”

 

“It is when you’re mean.”

 

“Mm.” Midoriya frowned at his friend, his eyes catching on the cute little froggy clip in her hair. “But he means well, most of the time.”

 

“He also plays rugby,” Iida added in, matter-of-factly.

 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Midoriya felt like he was crazy, but Uraraka and Tsu nodded along to Iida’s statement.

 

“Most fuckboys are into sports,” Tsu said, as if it was a well known fact.

 

“Face it Deku,” Uraraka finally said, giving him a solemn look. “You’re in love with a fuckboy.” There were two parts to that statement, and Midoriya could only deny one.

 

“He’s not a fuckboy,” he whined.

 

“Then why are you so scared of having sex with him?”

 

He looked around the table, seeing stares both hard and curious. His hands clenched and unclenched, anxiously.

 

He couldn’t tell them. Tell them the truth. Him and sex weren’t best friends. Sure, he craved it, but it had always been better in theory than reality for him. From the dry hand jobs, to the awkward, stilted, grunting-humping combo, Midoriya always ended up more ashamed and disappointed afterwards than anything else. It was embarrassing to admit to anyone, but he was starting to think that he just wasn’t meant to have sex. With anyone, let alone Bakugou Katsuki.

 

“I should get going,” Iida said, standing up and saving the day. “I need to go to my next class. Please have a good day you all.”

 

The little group waved and said their goodbyes as a chorus. Shortly after that, the rest of them broke off too, heading this way or that. Uraraka lagged behind one second to pat Midoriya’s shoulder reassuringly before she ran off to her date at the movies. Midoriya stopped just as he turned around to walk down the sidewalk, and he sneezed, before shivering. God, he hoped he wasn’t coming down with a cold.

 

…………………………………………..

 

When Bakugou returned home with the next stranger a day later, Midoriya was laying on the couch wrapped up in a blanket, and there were used tissues scattered about the coffee table.

 

“Yeah? Guess we could work on that- Oi, what the fuck is this?”

 

Just moments before, Bakugou had been smirking as he’d walked through the door. He’d had that self-assured look on his face, his body lax with confidence. Even before Midoriya saw the man he could hear chuckling behind him, he watched that face drop, that golden brow turn down the second he laid eyes on his roommate.

 

“Deku, what the hell?” His shoes flew off by the front door and suddenly he was crouching before a feeble Midoriya and feeling his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand.

 

“Hi, Kacchan,” Midoriya said, his voice hoarse from his scratchy throat. This up close, Midoriya could tell that Bakugou was coming home from rugby practice. He was freshly washed, and smelled like the two-in-one shampoo and conditioner that he kept in his gym bag. The bag that had been dropped beside their shoe rack and sat in a clumsy manner next to their now awkward guest.

 

“Uh, hi,” the man said, to the sick roommate of the man he went home with.

 

“Sorry,” Midoriya moaned, making to rise up off of the couch. His head throbbed. “I should’ve just gone to my room.” And he had planned to, really. But he’d just needed to sit on the couch for a second, because getting to his room meant walking all the way across the living room and then down the hall, and he really didn’t know if he had the strength for that. So he sat down for a small rest, and it turned out that their apartment had actually been furnished with a couch that drains your strength from you and turns the temperature in the room down about twenty degrees. Funny how he’d never noticed that before.

 

“Shut up, Deku,” Bakugou murmured as he gently held Midoriya down, his voice low and soothing. “You drinking fluids?”

 

Midoriya’s tired eyes watched the other man rise up and stride over to the kitchen and go through the fridge, as if he already knew the answer to his own question.

 

“No,” Midoriya answered, knowing that he was sluggish in his response. Bakugou brought him a water bottle and opened the cap for him, which was perfect, because he didn’t have the finger strength to twist those tiny things open normally, let alone right then.

 

“Shoulda fucking called me,” Bakugou said, standing over him with his arms crossed.

 

“You had practice,” Midoriya murmured after drinking, holding the water bottle close to him beneath the blanket. It was unfortunately cold, but it was nice having something in his arms.

 

“Who gives a fuck?” Bakugou said, storming back to the kitchen. “We still got that chicken stock? Where the hell is it...”

 

Midoriya could hear him muttering to himself as he opened and closed their cabinets. He heard the clanking of pots and pans, and dishes moving around. Then his vision refocused on the man, still standing by the front door.

 

“Uh… Do you want, like, help?”

 

Without even missing a beat, Bakugou simply said, “Fuck off.” The sounds of the stove clicking to life told Midoriya that he wasn’t even looking at him when he said it.

 

“Oh.”

 

Midoriya felt bad for the guy. He was wearing their school’s rugby team jacket, so he must be Bakugou’s teammate. He’d come in with an easy smile on his face, like he knew he was about to get his world rocked. And now, he hadn’t even moved from the entrance mat.

 

“Should I like…go?”

 

Bakugou returned into view with a warm towel folded up neatly in his hand. “The hell do you think?” He sent a glare to the other man as he carefully placed the warm gift on Midoriya’s forehead. He couldn’t help but let out a sigh at the new comfort.

 

“Well I-” the man seemed slightly startled at his sudden change in demeanor. “I just, I thought that-”

 

“Well- well- well-” Bakugou mocked, a little harsh in Midoriya’s opinion. “Go think somewhere else. Can’t you see that I’m busy?”

 

Stunned, the man, who hadn’t even gotten a chance to take his shoes off, simply walked out the still open door, and closed it behind himself. Bakugou huffed out a sigh, then got back up and started picking up Midoriya’s snotty tissues.

 

“Sorry Kacchan,” Midoriya said, feeling a new weight pressing on his chest.

 

“Bout what?” Bakugou grumbled at him as he went to grab the trashcan from his own room and leave it by Deku. He picked up the Kleenex box and inspected it’s level of tissues closely. “Not fucking texting me?”

 

“No, I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

 

“The hell are you talking about? I didn’t have any plans tonight.” Midoriya felt the heat pulsing in his body speed up a little. Bakugou replaced his tissue box with a fresh one and handed him some cold medicine. “Take.”

 

Midoriya obeyed. Bakugou was constantly going back and forth from the kitchen to watch his soup to the living room to check on his sick roommate. He changed out his towel when it got too cold and he swapped his sweat soaked blanket for two clean ones. Midoriya was downright cozy. He almost didn’t want to eat the soup that Bakugou finally presented him, because it would mean sitting up.

 

Thankfully, Bakugou helped him, keeping the blankets over his shoulders. He took a quick sip with the spoon to test it, then handed it back to him, seemingly satisfied.

 

“Thank you, Kacchan,” Midoriya said, as happily as he could in that condition.

 

When he took his first bite, his eyes bulged, and he almost retched. He coughed, practically panting as he breathed through his mouth. It was spicy. Really spicy. He swallowed it down hard, feeling the warmth pooling in his stomach.

 

“Hot?” Bakugou asked him, easily slurping from his own bowl.

 

“Mhm,” Midoriya answered weakly. “Very.”

 

“Good,” Bakugou said gruffly, ruffling his sweaty mop of hair. “It’ll clear you up. Gonna make you feel better.” Midoriya doubted that last part, but he ate it anyway – carefully, taking small spoonfuls and waiting a minute before continuing.

 

His taste buds were numb by the time he finished, and Bakugou whisked both of their bowls away. He’d turned the TV on while they were eating, the volume lowered and the lights off to help with Midoriya’s headache. Midoriya could hear him washing the dishes in the kitchen, and for some reason, it was a comforting sound. His eyelids drooped, and he found it difficult to keep sitting up like this on his own.

 

His eyes blinked open when he felt Bakugou sitting down next to him.

 

“You fallin’ asleep?” Midoriya shook his head. Bakugou scoffed like he didn’t believe him, but he scooted closer to him anyway to give him something to lean on, and he grabbed the remote.

 

Now that he felt steady, and warm, and his head was muddled, Midoriya’s thoughts came a little more freely.

 

“You’d make a really good wife,” he mused aloud.

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Bakugou told him as he searched through their streaming library. Midoriya smiled a little.

 

“You even have your mother’s temperament.”

 

“I’m going to dump the rest of that soup in your lap.”

 

“Thank you,” he murmured, a touch nonsensical.

 

Midoriya didn’t like going to bed early, especially not after eating. So that night, they watched movies on the couch, until Midoriya simply couldn’t keep his head off Bakugou’s shoulder any longer.

 

…………………………………………………….

 

Kacchan hadn’t always been so nice to him. When they were kids, the other boy pushed him down. A lot. He laughed at Midoriya, and he called him names, like Deku. Middle school was the worst, when Bakugou learned just how hurtful words could be, and he threw them around like they were toys.

 

Maybe that was why he felt so lucky to be sitting there beside Bakugou and their friends that Friday night, laughing and drinking while the tavern played some songs he couldn’t make out over the din.

 

Bakugou was sitting to his left, and the pendant light above cast a glow about him that Midoriya found striking. To his right and across from him, there was Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero, all laughing at something that Bakugou had said. Midoriya’s own lips were stretching wide. But really, he just liked to look at Kacchan, and see him smirking back. His roommate leaned back in his chair with his arms draped over the back, and he just looked so, so self-assured. And that might be the most attractive part about him. The easy grin that he wore, the confidence he exuded. Though, he’d always exuded confidence, even well before he exuded sex.

 

Yes, Midoriya was lucky indeed. Very lucky. He didn’t remember when it was that they first started to fall back into place together, but he knew that by the time they were graduating high school, it wasn’t even a question who either of them wanted to dorm with.

 

“And, here you go!” The waitress that had taken their orders brought a friend with her to deliver the steaming entrees. “Two cheeseburgers, one with extra pickles, one without. A rack and a half of pork ribs, fish and chips, a foot long beef, and jalapeño poppers for everyone.”

 

They all drooled over their food, looking ready to dig in right away.

 

“Anything else?” Their waitress asked. She had a smile on her face, but she looked anxious to get back to her other, just as rowdy tables.

 

They were all about to say, “No, ma’am, thank you very much, ma’am,” when suddenly a gruff voice spoke up beside Midoriya.

 

“Yeah, the hell is this? He asked for no relish.” Bakugou had picked up the tray Midoriya’s hot dog had come in on and held it up for all to see. Immediately Midoriya’s mouth twisted up in reaction to the condiment. He hadn’t even noticed.

 

The waitress’s face immediately morphed into one of remorse. “I’m so sorry about that.”

 

“It’s okay,” Midoriya tried to reassure. Really, it wasn’t that big of a deal. He could scrape most of it off. He’d survive.

 

“I’ll have them make you a fresh one,” the waitress said as Bakugou shoved the tray into her hands anyway.

 

“That’s not necessary-” he started to say, at the same time Bakugou responded, more firm than Midoriya, “Bring it out right.” She hurried off, all the while the others were looking with interest at their own plates, and definitely not at Bakugou, or Midoriya.

 

“Little harsh there, dude,” Sero said as he munched on a fry.

 

“Yeah, give her a break. It looks kinda busy right now,” Kaminari agreed. Yet Bakugou scoffed.

 

“It’s their job to get it right, assholes. Bastard wouldn’t have even known that shit was there until the first bite.” All the faces at the table turned to Midoriya to confirm Bakugou’s theory, and saw it proven true in his sheepish smile.

 

“Probably…”

 

“Then he’d feel too bad for taking a bite, and he wouldn’t say anything. Just eat the damn thing.” He was right, again. But really, Midoriya didn’t care about one hot dog having some relish. He’d just like to eat with his friends.

 

“Let’s see what’s going on with these poppers,” Kirishima said, lightening the mood as he reached for some. They all had a few, and soon the good vibes had returned, with everyone chatting and laughing. By the time his foot long was set down in front of him again (this time without the relish) Midoriya realized that they’d all focused on their sides, waiting for his meal to be brought out. He felt warm, though that was probably partly from the drinks he’d already had.

 

“Thank you,” he said kindly to the waitress after she apologized again. And then when she’d gone, he looked at Bakugou, and said it again. “Thank you.” Bakugou nodded, gnawing on the inside of his own cheek.

 

They stayed for more drinks after their meals. He felt the buzzing in the air (or maybe it was just in his ears). They were all well past the point of no return, slumped over in their seats and giggling like idiots, save for Sero, who was their designated driver. Midoriya was feeling good; he both wanted to go home, and didn’t at the same time. All of his attention was taken up by Bakugou’s full body laugh at Kaminari crashing into someone and spilling their drinks everywhere. That was probably why he didn’t notice the man walking by until he bumped right into Bakugou’s chair.

 

“Oi! Watch where you’re going!” Bakugou said instantly, turning on the source of the disruption. Midoriya recognized the guy from his finance class – Monoma, was his name? He was a blonde man with a cool composure, and he looked none too intimidated by the glare sent his way.

 

“Why don’t you watch where you’re sitting?” He asked with just as much venom. Bakugou’s eyes narrowed on him.

 

“Watch your damn mouth before I shut it for you.”

 

“Oh?” Monoma said, raising an eyebrow. “And how are you going to do that?”

 

Bakugou’s eyes widened, and he leaned back a little in his chair. “Think I don’t got ways?”

 

“Hm.” It was all Monoma said in return before continuing on his path. Sero and Kirishima had been busy trying to help Kaminari clean up, but even they had noticed the interaction. Bakugou turned to face them all with a huff and a grumpy pout.

 

“Fuck that guy.” And Midoriya believed him. For the rest of their time at that table, Midoriya caught him looking over his shoulder in the way the blonde man had gone. They could see him easily at the bar, throwing back shots with a friend, and occasionally looking over his own shoulder as well. Midoriya sipped on his beer, knowing that that night, it was going to be loud. And rough.

 

They finished off the rest of the beer. By the time they were standing up to leave, all of them were wobbling – even their driver, though for a different reason than the rest.

 

“Man, I can’t carry all of you,” Sero complained with both Kaminari and Kirishima clinging to his shoulders.

 

“Hold on-” Bakugou slurred, downing the little bit of whiskey left in his glass before disappearing into the crowd.

 

“Ugh,” Sero groaned, while the two men attached to him giggled. “Let’s wait for him by the front. I’m gonna get the car.”

 

Midoriya was really no better off than the other two, but Sero still put him in charge before leaving to pull the car up. It was hard to focus, the room was spinning, and he couldn’t tell how much time was passing. Suddenly, Bakugou appeared, with a Monoma on his shoulder that had as composed a smile on his face as he could have when he tilted like the leaning tower of Pisa.

 

“I- I decided I forgive you,” Monoma said, his face flushed from his alcohol intake. Well, at least they might pass out right in the middle of it, Midoriya thought.

 

“Fuck off,” Bakugou grumbled with a half cocked grin on his face. “I ain’t done nothin’ to apologize for. Yet.” Monoma seemed intrigued by this threat.

 

Midoriya didn’t know how they were all going to fit into the car. The back seat had room for three, and there was the passenger seat up front. He hated to take it when he knew the others liked to call dibs on it, but tonight, the thought of Monoma sitting in Kacchan’s lap all the way home had him willing to bend some personal morals.

 

“All right team,” Kaminari said, propped up on Kirishima’s shoulder. He pointed toward the glass front door, where they could see Sero’s car pulling up. “March!”

 

They stumbled their way through the people dancing by the front. The dance floor was off to the left, but perhaps some of them wanted some more space to themselves.

 

When Midoriya bumped into a very solid arm, he nearly fell over.

 

“I-I’m sorry!” He stuttered, still trying to figure out what was up and what was down.

 

“Ah- hey, you’re cute.” And the drunk Midoriya blinked. He was?

 

“Thank you!” He sent the kind stranger a brilliant smile – or, at least, he thought it was brilliant. It was probably dopey and lopsided.

 

“Yeah?” Suddenly, he felt something grab his wrist. Midoriya hadn’t really gotten a good look at the guy’s face – he was kind of tall, and a little built. That was all he could tell. And then he was being tugged until the man was at his back – like, right at his back – and he certainly wasn’t going to get a better glimpse of him like this. “Dance with me, cutie.”

 

Midoriya could feel the man begin to gyrate behind him, and his eyes went wide.

 

“Woah- I… I’m sorry!” Midoriya struggled out of that grip. He turned around, but the man kept a strong grip on his arm. He could see the stranger now. He looked amused by Midoriya’s embarrassment.

 

“Calm down, sweetheart. Don’t you wanna have fun?”

 

Before Midoriya could say or do anything else, there was an elbow wedging it’s way between him and this stranger. Midoriya didn’t stumble too much from the force of Bakugou shoving his way in front of him, but the other man was pushed back so hard he fell into the people dancing behind him, creating a dent in the periphery of the crowd.

 

“Call him ‘sweetheart’ again and I’ll rip your tongue out.” Bakugou’s voice was a growl, and his shoulders were hunched threateningly, like a cat with it’s fur rising.

 

The stranger was pushed back onto his feet, mostly out of indignation from those who bore the brunt of his weight. He scrunched up his nose in distaste.

 

“Chill, dude. Maybe tell your boyfriend not to flirt back.” Midoriya held his own cheeks, feeling them burn against his palms. Bakugou looked seconds from chasing after and pile driving the guy as he walked back into the crowd. He stared until the man was gone, then he turned, and his eyes immediately found Midoriya.

 

“You ‘kay?” Bakugou asked gruffly, getting closer so he could inspect him for himself. Maybe he hadn’t even heard what that guy had called him.

 

“I’m fine,” Midoriya told him, his blush dissipating. He really could’ve handled it himself, he just wasn’t as willing to create a scene as Bakugou was. Even then, some of the other dancers were staring at them warily.

 

When Bakugou was satisfied with his inspection, he wrapped his arm around Midoriya’s shoulders and pulled him toward the door.

 

“What a weirdo,” Kaminari said when they all stumbled outside.

 

“Yeah… Not manly at all,” Kirishima slurred out. Bakugou, meanwhile, was quiet beside Midoriya. He could feel the heat radiating off of him, as he still held Midoriya close. Midoriya looked over and saw that he was seething.

 

“So.” Midoriya almost jumped at the sound of Monoma’s voice. He’d nearly forgotten about him after that. He stood beside them before the car, acting like he wasn’t gently swaying on his feet. “How are we all going to fit in here?”

 

He sent a smirk to Bakugou, who glared back.

 

“What d’ya mean ‘we?’” Monoma blinked at that.

 

“I beg your pardon?” Yet rather than pardoning him, Bakugou opened the back door and led Midoriya with a hand on his back into the car. Bakugou followed him in immediately after. Kirishima filled the last seat in the back and Kaminari somehow found his way to the passenger seat without getting crushed by passing traffic.

 

“Everyone good?” Sero said, looking back at them all.

 

“Hey.” Monoma stooped in the still open door, his hand on the roof of the car as he glared at them – at Bakugou. “Where am I supposed to sit?” Bakugou, who had pressed himself up against Midoriya’s side and was practically pinning him to the other door, glared back.

 

“Yer not. Go fuck yerself.”

 

Kirishima gave the surprised man an apologetic smile as he closed the car door, and then they rolled off, leaving him behind with that stunned look on his face.

 

“So…” Sero started off, speaking to them while looking out his windshield. “What happened this time?”

 

Bakugou ranted the entire drive home, complaining about the freaky pervert with a bad attitude. Kaminari and Kirishima would chime in occasionally with snickering quips, and their combined breaths made the whole car reek of alcohol.

 

“Can’t fuckin’ stand fuckers like that,” Bakugou said, clinging to Midoriya’s arm. He looked back over at Midoriya, who’s heart did little tap dancing steps. When Bakugou was angry like this while drunk, his lower lip jutted out in a pout. “Ya sure ya don’ wanna turn back aroun’ and beat him up?” The edge of Midoriya’s mouth twitched up.

 

“Tha’s okay, Kacchan,” Midoriya said. And for the other’s sake, he leaned back against him, too. Bakugou huffed, his breath ruffling his hair.

 

Shortly after, they were dropped off outside of their apartment building, and they used each other to stumble to their unit. When Midoriya flicked on the light, Bakugou groaned, so he turned it back off. Somehow, they made it out of their shoes and Bakugou filled them both a glass of water. Bakugou emptied his in seconds and set it down, while Midoriya drank half and held the cup in his hands.

 

“Sorry for ruining your night,” Midoriya said, miserably, finishing with a hiccup. Bakugou looked at him with a steely glare.

 

“Hah? The hell’uh you mean? You didn’t ruin jack shit. That fucker did.”

 

“No, Kacchan,” Midoriya said, feeling his face starting to warm up again. “You were gonna… Gonna take that guy home, and, and have sex…”

 

Bakugou stared at him for half a second, like he was trying to figure out what the hell he was talking about, before he rolled his eyes and scoffed. “What, that guy? He’s a pretentious motherfucker. No way in hell I’d ever stick my dick in someone like that.”

 

And despite the blatant lie, or maybe because of it, Midoriya giggled, before hiccuping again. Apparently Bakugou was also amused, because he smiled too. Then, he grabbed Midoriya’s elbow.

 

“Come on,” he said with a light tug. “Night’s still young.”

 

The clock on the microwave told him that it was nearing midnight. The night was technically on it’s death bed. But he didn’t point that out as Bakugou pulled him toward the hallway and they stumbled into his room. He broke out his laptop and sat them both on his bed before searching for a show for them to watch. Something mindless that involved explosions and people getting beat up, just the kind of thing they liked to watch when they were drunk. Well, it was what Bakugou liked. Midoriya just liked hearing him laugh.

 

“Kacchan…” Midoriya started off when they were between episodes. In the low glow of the laptop screen, Bakugou looked kind of soft, leaning back against the headboard. Maybe it was his still hazy vision, but Bakugou’s eyes, his cheeks, his lips, curving up, they were so soft… Midoriya cleared his throat. “Thank you. Forgot to say that earlier.”

 

Bakugou’s eyebrow arched. “Don’t mention it.” Midoriya shook his head.

 

“So… So nice to me…” His cheeks felt wet, but he only realized that tears were flowing when Bakugou smoothed them away with his knuckle. Was it bad that he liked it when Bakugou was drunk? If they were sober, he probably would’ve just found Midoriya a tissue box.

 

“Damn sap,” he muttered. “What kinda best frien’ you take me for, huh?” Midoriya gave him a wet smile. He knew he’d drunk too much when he started crying so easily like this.

 

With a sigh, Midoriya rested his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes against the encroaching headache. “Can’t believe people think you’re a fuckboy.”

 

There was a snort next to his ear. “Cause I am.” Midoriya’s eyes opened.

 

“What?” Midoriya looked up, confusion on his face as he saw Bakugou’s exasperated expression. “No you’re not.”

 

“The hell do ya mean? Course I am. I fuck around.”

 

“Y-Yes…” Midoriya agreed hesitantly. “But that doesn’t make you a fuckboy.” Bakugou was looking at him incredulously.

 

“Then why the hell are they called that?”

 

“I, uh, I don’t know,” Midoriya admitted bashfully. “But they’re supposed to be jerks!”

 

“I am a jerk.”

 

“Well, but not like that,” Midoriya mumbled.

 

“Not like what?”

 

“You know, like a fuckboy.”

 

Bakugou just stared at him for a second, baffled. “You’re so fucking drunk.”

 

Midoriya simply shrugged. He couldn’t really explain it any further. “You’re just different, Kacchan.”

 

For a wordless second, Bakugou’s gaze wouldn’t let him go. Then, he realized that the show was playing, the sounds of explosions and people screaming and cursing punctuating the moment. He looked back at the screen, taking a deep breath when he realized he hadn’t breathed in a while. He felt Bakugou’s gaze tearing away from him as well.

 

For some reason the air felt a little tense then. It made Midoriya squirm uncomfortably. He felt the need to fill the silence between them.

 

“Wonder if Monoma found someone else to go home with.” Midoriya could see Bakugou scrunch up his nose in the screen during a dark scene.

 

“Who the hell is that?”

 

“The guy you were flirting with,” Midoriya told him. “Know him from finance.”

 

“Tch,” Bakugou scoffed. “Sucks to be that guy. Blondie looked bad at head.”

 

Midoriya choked a little. “You can...just tell?” Glancing to the side, he could make out Bakugou’s little smirk.

 

“Yeah. You can tell a lot 'bout someone.”

 

“How they… How they are in bed?”

 

“Pretty much,” Bakugou said. He had a full on grin now. “Just point ‘em out to me and I’ll tell ya if they’re worth it or not.” Midoriya tried to chuckle at that.

 

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” he said, waving Bakugou’s gaze away.

 

“What do ya mean?” When he looked back, his roommate had an inquiring quirk to his eyebrow.

 

“Oh… I don’t think I wanna date anymore.” Those brows furrowed down then, and that pout was back.

 

“Why not? Somethin’ happen or somethin’?”

 

Midoriya shook his head, feeling his curls bounce with the movement. “No, I just don’t think I should.” At that, Bakugou looked incredulous. Again.

 

“Stop being so fucking cryptic, nerd. Out with it already. What’s the problem?”

 

Kacchan was so good at getting straight to the point. Normally Midoriya kept these things to himself, but it was that, and the dregs of alcohol still in his system, that had the words flowing from his lips.

 

“It just never really feels good…”

 

With the way that Bakugou stared at him, for a surprisingly long amount of time, Midoriya felt smothered by his gaze.

 

“What doesn’t feel good?”

 

“Well, you know…” He averted his gaze, feeling Bakugou arriving at the answer himself.

 

“The sex?” When Midoriya nodded (embarrassed) Bakugou let out a startlingly loud scoff that bordered on offended. “What, none a those fuckers ever make you come before?”

 

Oh, such a personal question, Midoriya instinctively felt on the defense. But Bakugou’s glare was sharp, and boiling (why was he so pissed?) that Midoriya felt the truth spilling out, again.

 

“Uh, well, most of the time it happens, yeah. But, you know… It’s okay.”

 

He simmered beneath that stare for several moments that felt like eternity, before Bakugou crossed his arms and looked forward again, a twitching scowl on his face.

 

“You’re fucking the wrong people, nerd,” Bakugou stated, the words grinding between his teeth. “They’re amateurs. Probably don’t even know ‘bout lube. You need someone that’ll treat ya right.” When Midoriya didn’t say anything in response, Bakugou looked back at him again. “What?”

 

Midoriya averted his eyes. “I don’t know.”

 

“What?” Bakugou insisted.

 

Midoriya gulped, and said, in a small voice, “I think the problem might be me.”

 

Yet Bakugou seemed to think it was a joke. “What?” He said, laughing as if it was ridiculous. “Like ya just can’t feel pleasure or somethin'?” But then he turned his mirthful eyes onto Midoriya, who still wasn’t saying anything, and his face fell. “No fucking way.”

 

“Kacchan-”

 

“You gotta be kidding me.”

 

“Kacchan, please, let’s just drop it-”

 

“Deku, do you get horny?”

 

“Hm?” His face heated up, and his eyebrows skyrocketed. Bakugou held his gaze steady on him and repeated the question.

 

“Do you get horny?” After a second, Midoriya nodded. “Do you want to feel good?” It took him another second, but he nodded again. That seemed to be enough for Bakugou. “Then it ain’t you.” Midoriya felt his eyes wander around the room.

 

“You… You wouldn’t get it…”

 

“How many people you been with?”

 

“Like… Like ten.”

 

“That ain’t bad. I’ve had bad sex with more people than that.”

 

“Well, you’ve had a lot more sex than me. The ratio of good to bad sex is probably much higher for you than me-”

 

“Can it nerd. You saying I don’t know what I’m talking about?”

 

“No, you just don’t have all the facts.”

 

Maybe Midoriya went a little too far with that one. Bakugou’s mouth twitched, and his fingers clenched on his arms. Midoriya saw the glint of challenge in those eyes flash.

 

“Bet I could prove you wrong.”

 

Hm?

 

“What do you mean?” Midoriya asked, because he wasn’t sure he wanted to assume this one. Those trimmed fingers were digging into Bakugou’s biceps, making dents into the flesh that had Midoriya a little too distracted for this conversation.

 

“I could make you feel good.”

 

Midoriya knew that he blushed a lot, maybe a little too much, but right then, he felt it was warranted just how hot he got.

 

“Oh, you don’t have to, if you don’t want to Kacchan, that’s fine.” Midoriya immediately started waving his hands in appeasement, his eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere other than his roommate.

 

Bakugou didn’t seem deterred. He rose up on his knees and pushed the laptop away before setting himself down in front of the legs that Midoriya had scrunched up. He rested his hands on Midoriya’s knees and stole Midoriya’s breath with that same glint in his eyes.

 

“What, you scared that I’m right, and you’re wrong?”

 

Midoriya almost gasped, looking up at him. That look on his face was downright devilish, and completely unfair. He smirked in a way that showed off some of his teeth and Midoriya had to clench his own jaw to prevent himself from bringing up the memory of Kacchan biting him on the playground.

 

“No,” he said, when he finally had control of himself. That smirk crept up his face even further, and he leaned forward, over Midoriya’s legs.

 

“I can make it feel good, Deku. Real good.”

 

Midoriya wasn’t as drunk as he was before, he knew this. They’d been sobering up slowly in the time that they’d been home. But he was pretty sure his brain wouldn’t stop feeling this fuzzy until he went to sleep and reset the whole thing. No way he would have reacted like that if he was fully sober.

 

“Can you?” He asked, after swallowing. His own legs parted a little.

 

“You really doubtin’ me?”

 

Midoriya shook his head. “Maybe you can...show me?”

 

Bakugou stared at him for a second, like he was the one that couldn’t believe this was happening. Then Midoriya felt his legs starting to fall to the side, as Bakugou pulled them apart.

 

“Yeah? Yeah. I could help you.” And then his face split into a massive grin. “What are friends for, eh?”

 

Midoriya smiled lightly, his cheeks still feeling warm. Kacchan was so cute. And he was fitting himself between Midoriya’s legs, and he was, he was crawling over him, his arms on either side of Midoriya’s ribs. And his face was… It was pretty close. Oh god, they were really going to do this.

 

“Uh-” And Midoriya coughed lightly, as if to clear his throat. “Can we… Can we turn off the show?” Bakugou looked over his shoulder to see the laptop, still bright and echoing with the muted sounds of screams and blasts. He didn’t move away, didn’t even need to look, he just reached with his foot and closed it. Midoriya was baffled as to why he found that so hot.

 

“Hey Deku…” Midoriya returned his gaze to the man before him, which probably wasn’t a good idea, because his heart leapt into his throat and choked him. Bakugou was right before him, with an eager gleam in his eyes, and this deadly, yet delicate smirk on his face. He could taste the alcohol still on his breath when he said, “What gets you hard?”

 

Midoriya might have panicked a little bit. God, how was he supposed to answer that? Your smile? Your muscles? Your voice? Whenever you walk around shirtless – which was all the time? The sounds I hear you make through the walls whenever you bring someone home? No, none of that was safe to just blurt out to the other.

 

He was taking too long to think of something non-Kacchan related to say. Thankfully, Bakugou looked his face up and down, and said, “Don’t know? Whatever.” And then he dragged his hand down Midoriya’s chest, his stomach, and left it on his lower abdomen, right above his… Oh god. “I’ll figure it out.”

 

Midoriya gulped.

 

Bakugou’s eyes lowered to his neck, and he got closer. “Tell me Deku. What’d they do wrong?” His nose imperceptibly brushed over the thin skin under his jaw. “Didn’t they kiss ya?”

 

Midoriya felt his lips ghosting over his neck. It made him shiver. Bakugou pressed his lips to his throat, there, then there, then there, then there, until Midoriya’s breath hitched. Then he stopped, and he sucked.

 

“Ah-” Midoriya was surprised. He felt tingly, and warm. It wasn’t just the pressure on his neck; it was in his arms, his legs, and the pit of his stomach. Right there? No, maybe nobody had ever kissed him right there. Certainly not like that.

 

When Bakugou pulled away, his neck was wet. Kacchan didn’t go too far – Midoriya could still feel him smirking against his skin.

 

“Didn’t they warm ya up?”

 

Suddenly, Midoriya felt something creeping up his shirt. He almost jumped before realizing that it was a hand – Bakugou’s hand. It was warm and flat against his abdomen. It slid up until it was holding his pec. When he gasped lightly at Bakugou’s squeeze, he felt that smile widen. He thumbed over Midoriya’s nipple, making him bite his lower lip. Oh, Bakugou teased and pinched, but Midoriya didn’t mind. In fact, his legs wanted to squeeze tight – around something, preferably.

 

Bakugou pulled back, bringing Midoriya’s shirt up with him. Midoriya let him take it off of him, and when his head popped free from the collar, he looked up into his grin, crackling with electricity like some kind of a live wire.

 

“Didn’t they worship you?” He pulled Midoriya forward by the hips so that he was on his back, eliciting a yelp that was only quelled when Bakugou dove down to litter his body with kisses. He licked all the way from his navel to his sternum and sucked perfect little bruises onto his chest, his collarbones. The sounds he made were so wet, so obscene. Midoriya’s toes tingled.

 

When Bakugou dug his teeth into the meaty flesh of his pec, Midoriya couldn’t help it – his thighs actually did clamp around Bakugou. His hands went for Bakugou’s shoulders and clenched the collar of his shirt. Bakugou looked up at him, his eyes somehow still so red in the dark. He rose up and gripped the back of his shirt with one hand and pulled it off, over his head, just to toss it aside, uncaring where it went.

 

“Didn’t they let ya touch?” He grabbed Midoriya’s hand and held it to his own abs – and yes, he was drooling, okay? How could he not when they were so hard, and they rippled, god, it was so unfair. And when he says unfair, he really means more than fair, because Bakugou dragged his hand up his washboard abs and settled it on his pec. Eep! It was puffy, and firm. Oh god, he had to cup his hand around it...

 

Maybe Kacchan was onto something. His body was warm. Okay, that was a lie – he was hot. Thank god his shirt was gone because he could start sweating at any second. His body felt sensitive, and ready to react to the lightest touch. He didn’t want to look down, because he knew he’d see exactly the effect that Bakugou’s low, rumbling voice had had on him, even without the teasing touches. Yet Bakugou had no such qualms.

 

“See that, nerd?” Bakugou pointedly glanced down at the tent between his legs. He looked proud of himself. “No way you weren’t meant ta feel good.”

 

Midoriya was at his breaking point. His mouth was agape, and he could barely even see through the haze clouding over his eyes. He groaned, and said, “God, Kacchan, just touch me already.”

 

Bakugou didn’t need to be told twice. Immediately, he cupped his hand over Midoriya’s cock and rubbed up, once and rough. Midoriya’s body instinctively rolled with the movement, and he groaned again. Bakugou looked absolutely delighted. He unbuttoned his pants and yanked them down his legs, before tossing them to join their shirts. He was so eager it bordered on desperate as he dug into Midoriya’s boxers and pulled his cock out.

 

Ah, fuck. He was already wet. He looked up to see Bakugou’s mad grin. Then he cried out, surprised by the sudden spike of pleasure when that fist dragged up his shaft to thumb over his tip and smother his head with the precum. He dragged it down his cock, his teasing pace just short of aching. Now, what was this all about? People had jacked his dick before, but it’d never felt like this. Nobody thumbed his slit like that, nobody spat onto their own palm to lather him, nobody looked so eager to hold him, like Kacchan did.

 

“Oh-Oh my god-” Midoriya gripped Bakugou’s shoulders – his big and bulky shoulders – and clenched his teeth against the pleasure.

 

“Ya like that, Deku?” Bakugou said as his hand moved smoothly up and down his length.

 

It was...possible. Midoriya’s fingers were clawing into the other’s flesh and he was panting. But it was also possible that if he admitted to anything, this would come to a swift end, the game up, Bakugou the winner. So he merely gritted his teeth, like he couldn’t speak at all.

 

“Heh,” Bakugou said. “Little brat.”

 

The sight of Bakugou Katsuki lowering onto his elbows and letting his tongue fall out to lick up Midoriya’s cock would forever be etched into his brain. Midoriya actually squirmed, and Bakugou – god – he gripped Midoriya’s hips tight to keep him steady. He’d thought Bakugou looked happy to hold his dick. He was downright ecstatic to suck him down and slobber all over him. How it was possible to look so messy and so practiced at the same time, Midoriya didn’t know, but this was Bakugou Katsuki, after all. He sucked Midoriya’s head and lapped the tearing pre with the width of his tongue, filling his ears with those absolutely perverted sounds. Midoriya gripped the sheets on either side of him, feeling them beginning to pull at the edges.

 

“Holy sh-” He hissed, feeling that tongue in places nobody else had ever explored before. He felt all fucked up inside, the heat swirling in his stomach, and his limbs tense with the build up. Then, it started to ebb, and he looked down, confused. Bakugou was smirking at him, holding the base of his cock, his pretty, nasty mouth unfortunately unoccupied.

 

“Deku,” he said, his voice a dark rasp. “Open the drawer.”

 

It took effort, but Midoriya was able to reach over and open Bakugou’s nightstand to find a tube of lube sitting on a pile of foil packets.

 

“Gimme.”

 

Hesitantly, Midoriya handed the bottle over to Kacchan, and watched him uncap it.

 

“Hm,” Bakugou grunted, studying his face as the liquid dripped down his fingers. “Don’t tell me. You want it up the ass, but it’s never ‘felt good’ before. Yeah?” After a second, Midoriya nodded, ducking his chin into his chest. “You trust me, Deku?”

 

Midoriya blinked at him, surprised. There was something a little surreal about seeing his roommate, his childhood friend, his best friend, sitting between his legs, above his weeping cock, lubricating his fingers, and asking him that question so seriously. Finally, he nodded, again. Bakugou grinned.

 

“Then take your underwear off.”

 

Midoriya did as he was told, and suddenly, he was bare before the other. It wasn’t the first time, of course. They’d been naked multiple times throughout life together. But these circumstances were certainly new. He couldn’t repress the shiver as Bakugou reached between his cheeks and pet his entrance. After a few passes, Midoriya was used to it – then he dipped his finger in.

 

“Ah-” Midoriya tried to bite the sound off. Bakugou’s eyes gleamed in the dark. He slid in, further, and he curled his knuckle. “Oh-!” Midoriya slapped a hand over his mouth. It didn’t stop the groans as Bakugou did it again, and again, digging deeper, before adding another finger.

 

Bakugou had been quite skilled with his mouth, that could not be denied. But god damn it – his fingers? He reached inside of Midoriya and puppeted him like a master. He scissored and pulled him open, and he zeroed in on all the right spots. After mere minutes, Midoriya was whining embarrassingly, but he was too preoccupied with turning into mush to care. He could probably come from this alone, he realized.

 

Then Bakugou pulled out, and Midoriya whimpered like a dog getting it’s toy taken away. “Nuh uh,” Bakugou growled. “We’re not finished yet, not even close.”

 

Midoriya opened his eyes, his desperation unabashed. He wanted it, needed it. “Kacchan, please, feels so good.” That should have been enough to soothe Kacchan’s ego, to let him finish. He’d proven himself pretty early on, frankly. But how could Midoriya forget – Bakugou was never one to settle.

 

Bakugou lowered down over him again with a sadistic grin on his face, and he said, “Not enough. Trust me.”

 

Then he began to take his own pants off. Midoriya was breathless, watching him use one hand. It was endearing the way his movements were still a little affected by the alcohol, the way he tipped over onto his side and kicked his pants off, onto the floor. Even he stumbled a little in bed.

 

“Kacchan, what are you-”

 

“What do you think, Deku?” Bakugou said as he got onto his knees and grabbed the waistband of his underwear and yanked it down. “I’m gonna stick it in ya.”

 

Midoriya couldn’t breathe. He wasn’t scared to look down, he was just a little...apprehensive. When he did, his eyes widened at the sight.

 

“Oh,” he said, his voice tight.

 

“Yeah?” Bakugou said with a grin as he dropped the last piece of barrier between them onto the floor. “Got somethin’ ya wanna say?” Midoriya shook his head.

 

“No, no, it’s just- Nope. It’s all- Good. It’s very good.” His face was heating up the longer he spoke, and each and every word that came from his mouth just made Bakugou’s smile grow. “Um, is it- is it gonna fit?”

 

“Course it will. Always does.”

 

Midoriya’s heart was pounding. Bakugou was, well, just as impressive as his personality suggested. He rightfully put the “cock” in “cocky.” His eyes simmered, and Midoriya thought that he could feel the heat waves radiating out from them. His fingers tightened into the sheets, feeling them tug at the corners of the mattress.

 

“Right,” he murmured. “You said you were gonna make it feel good.” He said it out loud, as if it was a reminder, both to himself, and to Bakugou. And Bakugou’s eyes sharpened.

 

“Yeah,” he rasped, leaning forward until he was in Midoriya’s space. “Yeah, real fucking good. So god damn good that the incompetent bastards that came before me feel it and feel the shame they deserve. It’s gonna feel so fucking good, cause that’s what you deserve Deku; the best.”

 

Midoriya felt dizzy. He could only stare dumbly at Kacchan for a couple of seconds. Then, he reached up and brought him down the rest of the way, until he was kissing him. Midoriya was sloppy, and inexperienced. But Bakugou didn’t seem to care. He lapped against his untrained yet eager tongue with fervor, passion.

 

It wasn’t something Midoriya could admit, definitely not out loud. He tried to keep it to himself, tried to keep it under wraps, because, well, it was embarrassing. But Midoriya was selfish. He liked having Kacchan’s special treatment. He enjoyed it immensely, the way that his roommate would choose him over his sexual partners. The way that it was never even a choice – it was always instant, always intrinsically understood that Midoriya Izuku came first. How he always made him breakfast, always took care of him, made sure he was okay, at the expense of his sexual pursuits; how he told him things like that. And he felt so bad, knew that he was a bad person. But in that moment, he relished the way Bakugou fit into his arms and held him back, the way they twisted and filled each other to the brim. He couldn’t lie; he’d wanted to kiss Kacchan, just like this, for a very, very long time. Regrets were meant for the morning after, anyway.

 

Bakugou pulled away, with effort, but thankfully he didn’t pull too far. His light pants warmed Midoriya’s aching lips, and his eyes poured into Midoriya’s.

 

“Can you hold out for me, Deku?” He murmured softly against Midoriya’s mouth, and Midoriya knew that right then and there, he would do anything for Bakugou Katsuki. He nodded, and felt Bakugou smile. He pressed down and kissed Midoriya again, this time softer, easier. It was light; it was a distraction. Midoriya let his fingers smooth over Bakugou’s neck, hardly paying attention to the other reaching over into his still open nightstand drawer and grabbing something. He barely noticed the sounds of Bakugou tearing the foil or even rolling it on. He merely felt it at his entrance, and that’s when the kiss came to a stuttering halt.

 

“Oh-” Midoriya was cut off by his own moan. It rose an entire octave in the span of a second as that cock buried into him. By the time Kacchan’s hips were pressed firm to his ass, Midoriya was panting, and seeing stars.

 

It stretched him open, so much more than the fingers. Yes, those fingers had toyed with him, tested his limits, but this was – this was filling. He felt full. There was weight inside of him.

 

He opened his eyes to look up at Bakugou and found himself startled. He expected to see that confident grin staring back at him, to see Bakugou fully in control. But his roommate was wincing – wincing – his jaw tight and his brow all twisted up and knotted.

 

“Fu...Fuck…”

 

Midoriya, despite the position that he was in himself, blinked. Kacchan was…coming undone? Just being inside of Midoriya had done that to him? Made him sound like that? Like he could break apart in that moment?

 

Those red eyes peered open and looked down at him, and Bakugou let out a shaky, panted breath. He steeled himself, his lips flipping up into a just barely controlled smirk. “Feeling good, Deku?”

 

Midoriya nodded rapidly. He didn’t want to speak, didn’t even want to breathe. He didn’t want to disrupt this moment; he just wanted to watch Kacchan while he was like this.

 

“Gonna get you used to that,” Bakugou said, tensing, like he was bracing himself. And then he moved.

 

When Bakugou’s hips swung back, Midoriya’s jaw dropped. They both gasped and stuttered, and Midoriya’s fingers clawed into his shoulders. Bakugou rocked his hips back in, all the way, and they groaned against each other. Bakugou kissed him again, and Midoriya gave it to him, because he knew Kacchan needed it. He couldn’t give him much though, because he could barely keep himself from trembling all over. One good thrust was all Midoriya had needed from Bakugou to feel this way – to feel it stretching across him, from his fingers to the tips of his toes.

 

He’d been “fucked” before – though he was hesitant to call it that, now. His last partner had tried, but he kept slipping out every thrust. Another he had let break in her strap on him for the first time, but she was never able to find his g-spot.

 

This, though, oh, it started something inside of him. He could feel it, prickling beneath his skin, like a small fire catching at the kindling. He watched, hopelessly underneath its thrall as Bakugou rose up, sitting between his legs, still deep inside. He seemed to have gathered his strength, and grinned down at Midoriya, like his jaw wasn’t still taunt with it.

 

“Ready, Deku?” Midoriya nodded, whimpering his need. Bakugou gripped his hips, and studied him for a second. He seemed to like what he saw.

 

Bakugou didn’t fuck him, not in the traditional sense, not right away. Instead, he began to roll his hips inside of Midoriya, still fully embedded within. The moan it pulled from Midoriya’s throat was deep, and unbidden. He stroked Midoriya’s prostate in that way, just small, teasing motions, and it had him all fucked up. Just seeing the way those abs rolled and flexed, like some kind of a male model – ah shit, he was gone.

 

“Ah… Ah… Ah, Kacchan, fuck-”

 

“Yeah?” Bakugou said on a breath, interrupting him. “You like that? Brought out your dirty mouth, did I?” Like he was one to talk. His voice was strained, though he hid it well. He was always so good at forcing composure, though Midoriya could always see through it.

 

He knew what Bakugou sounded like during sex. He was intimate with those sounds. Bakugou was gruff, and he growled. Always saying things like “Yeah take it. You look so good with a cock in your ass. Fuck, don’t quit on me now.” He bit the words out, he chewed them and spat them at his partner. Tonight, he looked like he was inches away from melting into a puddle.

 

His gyrations started to widen, and so did Midoriya’s eyes. The sheets pulled up in his fingers, and he cried out, his voice becoming more and more desperate. The part of his brain that was still functioning felt deja vu, to be on this side of the wall, to be the one screaming out Bakugou’s name.

 

“Kacchan… Kacchan!”

 

“Want me to stop?” Bakugou purred at his tight voice.

 

“No!” Midoriya shook his head ardently, and Bakugou gripped his hips tight. He dragged his cock out and slammed back in. Finally, god, Bakugou was fucking him.

 

Midoriya Izuku could admit to being wrong. He wasn’t above it. Because by god, did Bakugou make him feel good. He started off pacing himself, rocking his hips in that smooth, steady rhythm that had Midoriya mewling. He teased him, angling just a little off, so close, so close, so close. He got Midoriya to a steady high, where the heat brimmed beneath the surface, but refused to simmer over. And it was so good, so good he cried a little. God, he’d been so wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. In that moment, Midoriya felt like he'd been made to feel this pleasure.

 

Bakugou lowered down onto his elbows to get closer, to look at him, to taste the tears from his face. They breathed together, panted together, neither able to keep their eyes fully open, they were so heavy with the sight of each other. At this angle, he hit all the right spots, and Midoriya knew it was only a matter of time, especially when Bakugou lifted his hips up, just a little, to dig even deeper.

 

“Kacchan,” he breathed out.

 

“Feel good?” Despite his own lack of breath, Bakugou still found a way to tease him. And Midoriya nodded, knowing his face was dripping with bliss. Bakugou grinned, and then he grimaced. “Fuck-”

 

His voice was tight, and suddenly Midoriya realized that he was close too. That thought was what drove him over.

 

“Oh- Oh god… Ka… Kacchan, I-” His voice squeaked, and he cried out. The pleasure crashed over him like a tidal wave, filling his lungs, his limbs, his stomach, and pouring from his eyes, he couldn’t see, it was all blurry. He couldn’t even make out Bakugou right in front of him, but he heard his voice.

 

“Fuck,” he repeated, the word broken, shattered from his own pleasure. “Fuck.”

 

It was so unlike him, so quiet, so stilted, so scrunched up and out of breath. It soothed Midoriya as they rode it out together, rocking, fast to the beat of their pounding hearts, then slower, slower, slower, slow, until they stopped.

 

They gasped, the small space between them hot with their wet breaths. When Midoriya could see through the stars again, he saw Bakugou, glistening in the dark, his hair matted with sweat. And he looked, well, he looked like the sun, in that dark room. He was beautiful, relaxed, at peace. And he’d gotten that, from Midoriya.

 

It was impossible to tell how long it took for them to gather themselves, how long they just laid like that, breathing until it wasn’t difficult anymore. But Midoriya didn’t mind. He almost dreaded to hear what came next, not wanting this moment to ever end.

 

Bakugou looked at him, his eyes having regained all their focus. He looked like he was debating something in his head. Then he held Midoriya’s gaze with the strength of his own, and he said, into the still night air, “Bet I could make it feel good a second time.”

 

Midoriya, looking into his eyes and wondering if the stars had returned, swallowed dryly. “Bet.”

 

Bakugou surged forward and their lips were mashed together, their teeth clinking and their tongues lost in each other’s mouths. Midoriya wrapped his arms around Bakugou’s neck to make sure he never got too far. They twisted and rocked their bodies, Bakugou pulling himself free so they could hump when they were up again. And for the rest of that night, Midoriya learned just how dead wrong he had been.

 

…………………………………………………………….

 

In the morning, Midoriya unsurprisingly woke up with a hangover. He groaned, and rolled over, and he almost screamed. Bakugou Katsuki was in his bed. Then he looked up, and around, and realized that no, this was not his bed. He was in Kacchan’s bed. And he was naked. From the look of it (it was a quick look) so was Bakugou.

 

Midoriya let his breathing steady as he took in the sight. Bakugou was still asleep, his face peaceful against his pillow. And through the pain, the memories came flooding back.

 

They had fucked. They had fucked multiple times. It had felt good. It felt really good. So good that when Midoriya tried to move his legs, he couldn’t find them, because he couldn’t feel them. Oh god, was that going to be a problem? How was he supposed to crawl out of this room without waking Kacchan?

 

The body beside him moved, and he stiffened up. Bakugou rolled closer to him and slung a heavy arm across his chest. His nose buried itself into Midoriya’s neck, and Midoriya tried not to breathe for fear of disturbing him. This was bad, this was so bad.

 

“Kacchan,” he said quietly, his voice weak. He cleared it, squeaking when he felt Bakugou nuzzle in closer to him, taking in a deep, sleepy breath. “Kacchan,” he said louder. Bakugou stirred briefly, his arm tightening around Midoriya, a soft groan pulling from his throat. It brought back memories of the night before, and Midoriya’s face heated up. He wondered for a second, for a terrible, awful second, if he could stay there like that. If he didn’t have to wake Bakugou up and ruin the moment sooner than necessary. Maybe he could enjoy the feeling of Bakugou’s soft breaths and warm body against his bare skin for just a bit longer.

 

Then Bakugou woke up. Well, asked and answered.

 

“Ugh…” His groan was full bodied this time, the man shifting and turning his head, his lashes batting against Midoriya’s jawline. And then, before he even said anything, Midoriya could feel it when the realization kicked in. “...Deku?”

 

“Hi Kacchan,” Midoriya said meekly. “You… You have me trapped.” He nodded down to the arm across his chest. After a second, Bakugou took it back, and he pulled away an inch. Finally able to breathe, Midoriya sat up, trying not to feel those eyes carving over him.

 

“...You’re naked.”

 

“Mhm,” Midoriya said, unable to look him in the eyes. “You are, too,” he told him, as if it wasn’t obvious.

 

“What, uh… What-”

 

And there it was. Midoriya could feel it; the wall between the men he’s fucked and his best friend Deku starting to crumble. Midoriya had to fix this. Now.

 

“You were right, Kacchan,” Midoriya said, flashing him his best sheepish smile. “I can feel pleasure. The problem wasn’t me. You, uh… You helped me. Like you always do.”

 

Bakugou looked up at him, his hair flattened by gravity, his face soft against the pillow. And his gaze held steady on Midoriya, the memories of the night before slowly returning to him.

 

“I did,” he finally said, like a statement, though Midoriya knew that it was a question of confirmation.

 

“Yes,” he answered. “Three times. Uh… Thank you.”

 

“Yeah,” Bakugou replied. “You’re, uh, welcome.”

 

Midoriya slipped out of bed awkwardly, his legs like a newborn fawn as he tried to quickly put his clothes back on. He’d felt Bakugou sitting up behind him as he did, and he tried not to look like he was rushing. He blushed with his back turned, still feeling Bakugou’s eyes on him.

 

“Okay, well, I have to go to the library, I’m tutoring from nine to three today. Then I’m getting coffee with Uraraka, and we were going to go shopping, so I should be back in time for dinner. I, uh, I just need to get ready, um…”

 

“Deku.”

 

Midoriya had been avoiding eye contact this entire time. But at the beckoning, he had to turn around. Bakugou looked so serious sitting there, staring at him. For the life of him, Midoriya couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

 

“You were never the problem.”

 

Midoriya swallowed at that. “Right. Thank you.” He knew his cheeks were pink. He took that as a sign that it was time to leave. On his way out, he sent another, small smile to Bakugou, who watched him the whole way, and he murmured, “Bye, Kacchan.” Then he closed the door on the soft, “See ya,” behind him. And he breathed out a huge sigh.

 

No, he hadn’t been the problem. He was finally able to see that. It truly had been everyone else that he’d been with. The problem was that none of them had ever been Bakugou Katsuki.

 

………………………………………………………

 

The day went on like normal. Midoriya went to his part time job with the history department as a tutor, and Bakugou went to his part time job at the school gym. When Midoriya found his way to the cafe he planned to meet Uraraka at, he texted Bakugou to ask what he should pick up at the store for that night. Bakugou texted him back their grocery list, and some other things they would need for that week. Midoriya sent him a thumbs up in response, and he sat down at a table to wait for his friend.

 

He didn’t tell her what had happened. Because it was normal. Everything was normal. They went shopping, and they laughed, and they talked about Himiko. Bakugou texted him to let him know that the neighbor’s damn cat was yowling again like it was fucking starving or something, and Midoriya told him to break in and feed the poor thing. It was normal, just like every other day.

 

When he finally returned home, his arms laden with bags, Bakugou was in the kitchen, already chopping up vegetables. He turned at the sound of Midoriya’s entrance and watched him as he set everything down on the counter. While Midoriya relieved himself of his burdens, Bakugou put his knife down on the cutting board.

 

“Hi Kacchan,” he said, breathlessly.

 

“Hi.”

 

It was normal, so very normal.

 

Then Bakugou pulled him and shoved him up against the wall, caged between those thick-barreled arms, a spike of pain in his back at the rough handling.

 

“Do you need more help?” Bakugou asked him, a subtle growl beneath his tone. Midoriya saw the fever in his eyes, and he felt it reflected in his own.

 

“Yes please,” he whined. He couldn’t even finish his sentence – Bakugou rushed forth to kiss him. The kitchen felt hot as they made out, moaning and groaning, grabbing at each other, at their clothes, and gasping.

 

Midoriya had never had such a passionate make out session before. He did what he could to keep up with Bakugou’s vigorous, stroking tongue, but in the end, he just let Kacchan take the lead.

 

Bakugou pulled him away from the wall and pushed him over to the first flat surface that he could find – their kitchen table. Midoriya’s arms stung from the force of being shoved onto it, but it felt good with the adrenaline surging through his body. He groaned as Bakugou pressed up against his ass and started grinding against him.

 

“Fuck, I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good,” Bakugou hissed out, his cock hardening with each pass over Midoriya’s ass.

 

“Thank you,” Midoriya gasped out, feeling the pleasure from the heat of the moment alone. Bakugou grunted his acknowledgment as he reached around and unzipped Midoriya’s pants. They fell easily to his feet, and his underwear soon joined them.

 

“Fuck,” Bakugou growled out as he sank to his knees behind Midoriya. His hands palmed his ass, his thumbs digging into the meat of his cheeks. He parted him, and then licked up the length of him, making him moan like a degenerate.

 

He felt cold when Bakugou pulled away, squeezing his cheeks tender, and staring at him.

 

“Fuck Deku, I knew you were fat back here.” His voice was hoarse with utter perversion, his fingers digging in to make their marks. Midoriya’s whole body flushed with embarrassment and want. He was nauseous from the mixture of the sudden heat and cold sweat that washed over him. For some reason, he felt he had to reply with something in kind.

 

“I-I knew you were big, Kacchan. So… So big.”

 

Bakugou didn’t reply with a snarky, cocky quip, the way Midoriya expected him to. He simply snarled like an animal and pulled Midoriya onto his face. The couple of centimeters he was dragged across the table burned against his forearms, but it felt good, felt good to wince. Kacchan was soft and wet inside of him. He couldn’t reach, not all the way, not like that, but not for a lack of trying. He could feel Bakugou’s jaw against him, feel how it worked and strained to lick him, lick in him.

 

Midoriya was beside himself. Last night had felt good – it’d felt great. But this, nobody had ever done this to him before. It was wet and sloppy, and Bakugou was more than enthusiastic, like he wanted to bury himself inside of Midoriya. Oh god, it was so nasty, the sounds that he made, and Midoriya was head over his heels for it all. He could just melt into a puddle on top of that table right then.

 

When Bakugou pulled away, Midoriya whined like a petulant child, but forgive him if he didn’t have the brain power to speak in that moment. He could hear Bakugou scoff a laugh at him, could hear his grin in it.

 

“Needy for it, huh?”

 

Midoriya heard him digging in his pocket and pulling something out. From behind him, he could hear a packet opening and something liquid sounding spilling over Bakugou’s fingers. Midoriya’s legs trembled preemptively. Bakugou sat up on his knees again, and pulled him apart once more.

 

“Yeah? You remember how this feels?” Midoriya nodded with his head on the table. “That’s right. My touch is un-fucking-forgettable.” Midoriya groaned as he slipped in, two fingers at once – apparently Bakugou was as impatient as he was – and he stretched him good. It burned to start out strong like that, but Midoriya could feel it in his chest; the pleasure swelled and throbbed inside of him, like it planned to break through his rib cage.

 

Midoriya didn’t realize that he was taking those fingers for granted until they pulled from him, and suddenly he was empty, and cold, and wanting again. Bakugou stood up and patted his ass when he whimpered.

 

“Don’t worry, Deku,” he muttered, leaning over him to rest his chin on Midoriya’s shoulder. “I’m gonna fuck you now.”

 

Midoriya’s whole body shivered, and he almost cried. Fuck, he wanted it so badly. Bakugou petted his cheek with the back of his hand and with the other, he loosened his own pants. They joined Midoriya’s on the floor, and Midoriya felt it again, against his backside. He heard the condom, and then he felt the head. Bakugou sank inside of him, full, thick, bursting at the seams, and Midoriya sighed through the tears that pricked at his eyes. Then Bakugou started to fuck him.

 

It was that moment that Midoriya realized that Bakugou had been going easy on him the night before. That evening, he let it all out; his voracious desire, his bruising thrusts, his domineering grip. Bakugou held Midoriya in place to make sure he didn’t move an inch from that perfect position. And Midoriya was grateful, because he never wanted Bakugou to hold back on him. He could take anything Bakugou gave to him, everything Bakugou had to give.

 

“Fuck… Shit!” Bakugou hissed the curses out as he dragged himself out and snapped back in. Each thrust punctuated his words. “I rubbed one out the second you left.”

 

Midoriya groaned, his cheek squished against his arm. He saw his own fist clenching, but there wasn’t much he could do to brace himself against the wave of burning pleasure that swept through him to hear Bakugou’s breathless words.

 

“Got me all hard just thinking 'bout it. 'Bout last night. Like, ‘Fuck, Deku-’ shit,” he hissed out as he quoted himself from that morning. “Fuck, like, ‘Oh fuck. Fuck! All hot and shit. So damn cute. Need my cock inside a you again. Fuck, take it, take it, take it.’”

 

Midoriya blushed deeply, feeling his drool pooling on the table. He could imagine Bakugou laying in bed and gripping the sheets like he gripped his cock, all flushed and sweaty, his fist pumping his shaft, his arm bulging in his desperation as he said all of that, his voice taut with the building pleasure. Maybe he even fucked his own hand and his bed creaked beneath him with the thrusts.

 

“More, Kacchan,” Midoriya moaned. “Tell me more.” It was hard to speak without air, hard to form words in that state.

 

Bakugou leaned down over him, pinning him to the table with his chest and holding Midoriya’s hips steady to angle himself in and hump him like an animal.

 

“More, huh? Ya wanna hear about my cock? How I strangled it to your face? To your tears? Had to change my sheets this morning, Deku, and it was all your fucking fault. Ooh fuck, shit. Hah… Can’t even fuck you good and proper like you deserve, I’m gonna blow my damn load already.”

 

Midoriya whined when he heard that. Just knowing that he could give that to Bakugou, could be the reason he was going to come so quick again, it twisted him up inside.

 

“Kacchan…” Midoriya breathed out, his arms limp and useless on the table. “Do you feel...feel good t-too?”

 

He heard a sharp intake of breath in his ear. After a few seconds, a few thrusts, Bakugou spoke again, and it was just like the night before, when his voice had broken and revealed the vulnerability he hid deep within him.

 

“Fuck, Deku, yes. Feels so… so damn good. Always. You always make me feel good.”

 

They’d only fucked twice, so Midoriya couldn’t fathom what he meant by that. He was too far gone to even consider it. But his words, his voice, it tugged at something inside of him, and all he could do was whimper like he was crying as he came underneath the table and Bakugou tensed up and bit his shoulder before he spilled inside too.

 

When they were still, and the heat died away, they stayed there silently for a moment like that, breathing against each other. Midoriya’s brain was at peace; there was none of the buzzing, anxious noise that had pervaded it all day. He was just mush beneath his heavy roommate.

 

“Izuku.” When Bakugou spoke again, his voice was a soft rasp, like he’d just woken up and was dehydrated. “Let me make you feel good.”

 

Midoriya hummed, his voice warm when he responded. “You just did.” He could hear Bakugou swallow right behind him.

 

“Again. Forever.”

 

It took Midoriya a second to register that, but when he did, he blinked his eyes open. “F-Forever?” Then he realized that Bakugou had just called him by his name. His real name.

 

Bakugou spoke again, with a barely perceptible quiver to his otherwise gruff voice. “I can be the guy that makes you feel good, always. If you want. Your shitty exes ain’t got nothing on me.”

 

Midoriya had never had boyfriends or girlfriends. Just dates that never went well, things that never made it past the first week(end). But Midoriya didn’t feel the need to correct him in that moment.

 

“No, they don’t,” he agreed. They shuffled a little as Bakugou wrapped an arm around his waist and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. Midoriya hummed again, soft and content.

 

Bakugou pulled out of him, and before Midoriya could lose his nerve, he turned around to grab his startled face, and kissed him. Bakugou let him easily, was compliant. He helped Midoriya’s inexperienced lips morph into a shape that was so sweet and tender, Midoriya thought that he was melting for real that time.

 

“I want to be your boyfriend,” Midoriya said, the second after he pulled away. The piercing weight of Bakugou’s eyes was so heavy on him, the touch of his hands on his waist from where he held him when they kissed burned. Somehow Midoriya found the strength to barrel on. “I want to be the guy you take to bed, every time. The guy you flirt with in front of your friends, the guy you hit on when you’re drunk. I don’t want there to be anyone else, just...just us.”

 

He almost thought he was going to throw up. It was painful to admit that last part, like he’d dug it up from his guts and dropped it at Bakugou’s feet. But as he looked the other man in the eyes, and saw his face, it was… Well… If Midoriya didn’t know any better, he might say that Bakugou Katsuki looked positively smitten.

 

“Thank fuck,” Bakugou said, like he could finally let out a breath he’d been holding for years. “I was getting sick of fucking all those extras wishing they were you.”

 

Midoriya choked, embarrassingly so. It was such an ugly sound to pair with the ugly shade of red his face turned at that. He buried himself in the crook of Bakugou’s neck, holding tight so he could hide forever. Thankfully, Bakugou held him back, pressing his cheek to Midoriya’s head, and breathing deeply.

 

When he was finally able to calm down, Midoriya focused on the heart beating against his own chest. He almost didn’t want to pull away, for fear that everything would disappear the moment he did. But then, he figured he would feel like that for a while, starting right then. He would just have to get used to this, huh?

 

He smiled against Bakugou’s neck. “Kacchan, can I put my pants back on now?”

 

“No,” Bakugou said immediately, squeezing him tighter. “I never wanna see you wearing pants ever again.” And Midoriya laughed, because he thought that Bakugou was joking. But for the rest of that night, pants were absolutely forbidden in their apartment.

 

…………………………………………………………

 

Midoriya Izuku didn’t care if he had to argue with the entire university campus. He knew for a fact that Bakugou Katsuki wasn’t a fuckboy.

 

“Crap!”

 

The door to his room slammed open as Midoriya raced out of it, jumping around to pull his socks on. He ran about the living room, grabbing his books and water bottle and shoving it all into his backpack.

 

“Wrong shirt,” came Bakugou’s voice from the kitchen.

 

“Shit!” Midoriya dropped his bag and ran back to his room, taking the skull-patterned shirt off as he did. He’d kind of hoped that Bakugou wouldn’t notice.

 

When he ran back out with his own T-shirt on, his wristwatch read 7:42am. He scooped up the backpack he’d left by the front door and started to bend down to grab his shoes.

 

“Oi, Izuku!”

 

“Right!”

 

Midoriya left the shoes by the front door and raced over to the kitchen, where Bakugou stood with his arms crossed, and he glared at his rushing boyfriend. Midoriya skidded to a stop right in front of him and leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. It was scratchy against his lips. “Bye Kacchan!” He breathed out.

 

With a quirked brow, Bakugou grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him back in, giving him a kiss that would have him blushing right up to the start of his first class. They pulled away with a plop, that blush already getting a head start on him. He stood there dumbly for one second, and Bakugou grinned at him.

 

“See ya, nerd.” Despite the burning heat in his face, Midoriya smiled back, his mouth a wobbly curve.

 

“Mhm!” He turned around and yelped when he felt a firm palm smack his ass. “Eep!”

 

Bakugou cackled behind him as he hurried to grab his shoes and head out the door, for real this time. He really should be better about leaving on time – you’d think after almost three years of university, he’d learn to be a little more punctual. But every morning, he just found it so, inexplicably difficult to leave his – their – apartment. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t that inexplicable after all.

 

You see, Bakugou Katsuki, despite all appearances, was not a fuckboy. Maybe he worked out like one, and he dressed like one, and he partied like one, and he swore like one, and he fucked like one. But fuckboys didn’t make your favorite dinner for you just to make you feel good (katsudon, yum Kacchan!) Fuckboys didn’t play with your fingers while watching a movie just because they liked holding your hand (Kacchan, are you watching?) (Yeah, yeah.) Fuckboys didn’t come from the feel of your name on their lips (Izuku...fuck.) Fuckboys didn’t wait patiently for five years just to be able to hear you say “I love you,” so that they can say it back.

 

Bakugou may not have the best track record on campus as being loving, or committed. But that was only because none of the guys he’d been with had ever been Midoriya Izuku.

Notes:

This one was purely just for fun, and I enjoyed it immensely :) Realism was not necessarily my main concern in this fic, just fun, fluff, and smut.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of The Bakugou Katsuki Fuckboy Chronicles