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Bakugo is seated on the floor of Sero’s dorm room, nursing a red solo cup, watching the boy with tape dispensers for elbows grind the green and purple herb. Sero’s boyfriends are flanking him on either side, Kaminari closing the mason jar and Shinso yawning. Uraraka and Mina are sitting in Sero’s hammock, the pink haired girl whisper-chanting ‘ weed weed weed’ excitedly. Kirishima is sat beside Bakugo on his left, fist pumping towards the sky.
Kaminari seals the blunt with an overtly slutty lick, and it begins to be passed around. First to Sero, still red from his boyfriend's demonstration, to light it and take the first hit. The room begins to fill with smoke and Kaminari has turned on an album from some funk rock band from America.
Kirishima looks to Bakugo and speaks.
“You okay bro?” The redhead asks, smiling, teeth just as bright as the red gem in his septum jewelry.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Bakugo raises an eyebrow at the question. Does he look not okay ?
The blunt is passed to Kaminari.
Kirishima chuckles, “You just looked kinda out of it, wanted to make sure you weren’t gonna hurl or anything!”
The blonde sneers, raising his chin, “I'm not that fuckin’ drunk, shitty hair.” And thank god he’s not, he doesn’t want his first time being high to be mixed with being black out shitfaced.
Kirishima barks out a laugh and downs what's left in his cup.
Said blonde is admittedly quite buzzed from his drink. He's had a rough week and has been looking forward to the weekend, his time to unwind and get comfortably drunk. But the alcohol isn't what has him quiet. It's the burning bundle of skunky kush. Bakugo is nervous. Or… apprehensive , perhaps. The idea of losing control of his actions is disconcerting. With alcohol, the most he’ll do is call people names and sneer more than he already does. Weed though? He’s not sure. But he’s getting sick and tired of being apprehensive of a damn plant, and the stressful ass week he’s had didn’t help, so he said fuck it. We’re doing this.
Uraraka begins puffing the blunt.
“How come you haven't smoked with us before, Bakugo?” Uraraka asks in between puffs, eyes narrowed.
The blonde shrugs and sips his drink, “The timelines just never lined up right. Every time you guys would score I’d be busy.” That statement isn’t completely true, but he’s not about to admit he’s been too apprehensive to come and lose his weed virginity.
Uraraka hands the blunt to Mina, as the pink girl begins to speak.
“Orrrr the real reason is that you actually get really kind and calm when you’re high.” She fights back laughter as she takes a hit off the blunt, “You didn’t show up cause you didn’t want us to know you actually enjoy our company.”
Giggles fill the room as Bakugo crosses his arms incredulously, “Even if that was true, which it’s definitely fuckin’ not, I’d rather bite my tongue off before I’d ever let those words come out of my mouth.” That statement also isn’t completely true. He’s gotten a lot better over the years, realized that perhaps he really does enjoy the company of some of the people in his grade. Like he said though, he could never bring himself to say it.
As the laughter in the room dies down, Mina passes the blunt to Kirishima.
Bakugos eyes follow the blunt, watching the boy with red hair take it between his pointer and middle finger. The idle chat of his fellow students begins to fade away as Kirishima starts to draw on the blunt, cheeks sucked in ever so slightly, eyes lidded. He looks so natural doing it, like he's some kind of rock star, covered in the soft glow of Sero’s multicolored lights that line his room. The redhead opens his mouth, the smoke slowly billowing out. It weaves through his nose piercing, tracing his features and gently rising above his hair, pulled back into a loose ponytail. He looks good.
The soft conversations in the room return as Bakugo snaps back to reality. Huh. His sober brain processes how that was definitely an odd thought but quickly dismisses it as simply an alcohol addled moment. Kirishima parts his lips once again and starts the enchanting - again, odd - process again. At this point Bakugo comprehends just how little time he has to back out now. Any moment Kirishima will take his final hit and hand him the blunt. The nerves have started to set in. But he’ll be damned if he backs out now. So with unsteady hands, he wills himself to finish his cup, relishing in the burn with closed eyes. When the burn fades, he opens his eyes to see Kirishima exhale a large puff of smoke.
Kirishima hands Bakugo the bundle of herb.
The blonde takes the nearly half smoked blunt between his pointer finger and thumb. The tobacco leaf that wraps the weed is soft, and somewhat leathery. The smell is skunky, earthy, and obviously, smokey.
In what feels like slow motion, he raises the blunt to his lips, imitating what Kirishima did. He closes his eyes like he does when he drinks, and inhales. He feels the smoke enter his mouth and flow down his throat. A mixture of tastes follows. An herbal sharpness, like the bitterness of a strong tea. Grassiness, how he imagines the smell of a freshly cut lawn would taste. Something that kinda reminds him of the smell of wet dirt. There’s a sweetness, maybe vanilla, accompanied by a subtle woodiness that he assumes is from the tobacco leaf.
As soon as the taste comes, so does the burn. Bakugo removes the blunt from between his lips, and begins to slowly exhale. His throat is scratchy, like he’s sick, and his lungs ache. He feels a cough rumbling its way through him, but if he’s not willing to admit he’s a weed virgin, he sure as shit isn’t gonna expose himself by coughing on the first hit. The smoke expels shakily, but he holds the cough back.
He wasn’t expecting to immediately feel blasted, but he did assume he’d feel something aside from pain right after the first hit. Like a head rush or something. So he brings the blunt to his lips again, and takes another, shorter drag. This time as he exhales there's no fight against a rogue cough, just a newly familiar burn. And still no rush.
As he turns to speak to the boy sat to his left, he’s met with deep red eyes already locked onto him. Kirishima is staring at Bakugo, eyes slightly widened and a dusty pink barely visible on his cheeks. The crimson gaze hits him like Medusa, Bakugo’s brain wants words to come out, but nothing does. There’s an unreadable emotion in the sea of red. Maybe surprise, or amusement, or maybe something… darker? A second passes, maybe even less, but it feels like hours. The trance is only broken, ironically, by Shinso as he leaves his spot on the bed and steps towards Bakugo. The blonde boy realizes he didn’t do the “ pass ” part of puff puff, pass. Maybe he is already feeling something.
“Don’t be greedy with it, Blasty.” The hypnotist deadpans, arm outstretched to Bakugo.
The blonde hands the blunt to Shinso with a tch and a sneer.
Bakugo’s brain is currently tangled in a very confusing train of thought. What the fuck was up with that look? Did Kirishima think Bakugo wouldn't take a hit? Could he tell he hasn't smoked before? Why the fuck was his face red? Was his face even red? Why is he even thinking about this so much?? He’s certain he’s feeling something now. His face is warm and his head feels fuzzy. The seemingly never ending train of thoughts is finally called to a halt when Mina hops out of the hammock and addresses the room, “Let’s do something!”
Mina has a wicked grin on her face and Bakugo can tell what's coming. “Let’s play truth or dare.”
Bakugo is the first to respond, perhaps a little too quick, “Pass.”
The bubblegum skinned girl groans and rolls her eyes as Uraraka pleads, but Bakugo is having none of it. That is, of course, until a large hand grasps his shoulder and shakes him. “Come on brooooo! It’ll be fun. Plus,” he speaks softer, but still loud enough to be heard by the others, “we could always dare Sero to roll us another!” Sero snickers as the redhead nudges Bakugos ribs with his elbow, and looks at him, almost expectantly. It’s like he knows Bakugo will give in.
The blonde wants to argue, especially when he sees that look on Kirishima. But there’s something holding him back. Or maybe he just gives in. It’s probably because of the weed, right?
“Fine, fuckin’ fine.” The blonde huffs and crosses his arms as Mina cheers. From the corner of his eye he sees just how bright the redhead next to him is smiling.
Sero speaks up as Mina retakes her spot in the hammock. “Also, if you guys want me to roll another, I’ve got enough for a small one.” The human tape dispenser looks around at the students in his room.
Bakugo doesn’t really feel too high. At least, not yet. If this is how it feels the whole way through, he’d rather just stick to alcohol. At least that doesn’t stink. Plus, he has no idea when he’ll be able to try this again. So, “Yeah, fuck it, I’ll smoke another one.” The rest of the students agree enthusiastically and Sero looks happy to start the sesh again.
Kaminari is the first to speak. “I’ll start! Hmmmm… Uraraka! Truth or dare?”
The first few truths and dares are pretty tame, usual first round stuff. He feels fine throughout them, maybe just a little dizzy. It’s when he starts puffing the new blunt that he realizes, fuck he’s definitely high. It feels like time has slowed to a crawl, and everything feels so much more. The floor is cold but his body is warm and feels like it's pulsing. The music sounds more distant from his ears but sharper. He can feel the pulse of the deep bass guitar, sending waves through his body. The drums replace his heartbeat, thumping around his organs and keeping him alive. The funky electric guitar rushes through his veins. His head is vibrating, like his brain was thrown into a paint shaker. It feels good. Real fuckin’ good.
Mina’s voice addressing the blonde throws him out of his thoughts and back into the present. “Your turn Blasty! Truth or dare ?” She emphasizes the last word of the question, that annoying ass smirk plastered on her face, like she knows something no-one else is privy to.
“Dare.” The blond responds quickly and confidently, hand outstretched, waiting for Shinso to leave his spot on the bed and relinquish him of the blunt.
“You sure? You reeeeally wanna pick dare?” The pink girl's smile has gone from all knowing to borderline sadistic.
Bakugo sighs, “Obviously I’m gonna fuckin’ pick dare. That's the whole point of this stupid game.” He doesn’t know why she even bothered asking, being dared to do stupid stuff was the point of the game. It’s almost as if she was giving him an out.
Mina chuckles quietly like a damn villain as she shrugs her shoulders, “Okay, if you're sure. I dare you, assuming consent is given of course, to make out with Kirishima.”
It’s like you opened a bag of treats in a room full of stoned cats. All ears perk up, all eyes glued on the blonde. Shinsho is thrown into a coughing fit, the shock of the question interrupting his hit.
Ah. So she was giving him an out.
The blonde is staring daggers into Mina as numerous thoughts rush through his drug addled brain. Well, I’m not a fuckin’ pussy. I can’t say no. But is Kirishima even gay? It’s just a dare, what does it matter if he’s gay? We’re bros, sometimes bros have to make out for a dare. Right? Fuck it.
Bakugo shoves the thoughts away and puts on a cocky smile as he speaks, “Fuck it. Okay, I’ll fuckin’ do it if he’s game.”
“You game, Shitty Hair?” Bakugo asks, turning towards the redhead. When he sees Kirishima's face, he’s honestly shocked. He expected some sort of mortification to be visible on the boy's face, but there was none. Instead, where Bakugo assumed there would be disgust or fear, there was a small smirk emboldened with confidence .
“I mean, it’s not very manly to say no to a dare,” The redhead adjusts and shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, “I’m game, BakuBro.”
Bakugo isn’t sure if it’s the weed or the liquor or the anger of having his confidence challenged, but in this moment his brain decides his best course of action is to crawl over to where Kirishima is seated. Not walk, not scoot, but to fucking crawl.
Great start.
The blonde is sat on his knees, facing the redhead. For the second time this night, red eyes meet red. And once again, that unreadable emotion is present in Kirishima's eyes. They’re lidded and bloodshot from the weed. The sight puts a knot in Bakugo’s stomach that he’s never felt before. If he was apprehensive to try some weed, he’s definitely fuckin’ apprehensive about this. It’s stupid. It’s just a fuckin’ dare. He hopes his nerves aren’t showing on his face.
“You ready?” Kirishima asks. He doesn’t sound nervous, so at least there's that.
Bakugo rolls his eyes and puts on an annoyed tone, hoping to cover his inner turmoil. “Let’s get this over with.”
The concept of time breaks for Bakugo. He sees the redhead sat in front of him chuckle and lean forward, closing his eyes, lips parted. Then, as if time sped up, the blonde’s eyes are closed and warm lips are pressed against his. They’re soft. A second later, a tongue gingerly licks against his bottom lip.
Right.
The dare was to make out. Something, mind you, Bakugo has never done.
He’s seen enough movies to get the general idea though, so he tilts his head a bit and opens his mouth. The kiss deepens, and the blonde boy's mouth is invaded with a hot, wet tongue. He should hate this. Why doesn’t he hate this?
Bakugo’s whole body is hot and feels tingly. He’s lightheaded and can taste the weed and alcohol on Kirishima’s tongue. He can’t hear the music anymore. The floor of the dormitory room falls out beneath him, his body and Kirishima’s floating in space as they explore each other's mouths. He doesn’t want this feeling to end. Fuck. Why doesn’t he want this to end?
It feels as though hours have passed when the warm intrusion leaves his mouth, and the soft lips pull away from his own. Suddenly, the real world returns. Bakugo can feel the cool floor, hear the music Kaminari put on, and, to his dismay, he also hears the cheers and whoops of his friends. Right. He just had an out of body fuckin’ experience making out with Kirishima as everyone just sat there and watched.
Bakugo’s eyes shoot open from the burning embarrassment, but the sight in front of him steals his full attention. Kirishima is sat there hunched over with a sheepish grin on his face, lips still wet with spit, and a dusting of pink across his cheeks. His hands are held oddly in his lap.
He’s hard.
Kirishima got hard from making out with him.
Oh.
Kirishima jumps up and quickly runs to the door, all while hunched over. “I, uh, gotta go to the bathroom!”
And just like that, he’s gone. Bakugo is left with all the other classmates in the room staring at him, wide eyed. Aside from Kaminari, who’s holding back a laugh.
“Damn Blasty, your breath must really stink, huh?” the boy with yellow hair asks, snickering his way through the sentence.
Now it’s Bakugo’s turn to jump up, spitting out at the electric user, “Fuck you, your dare is to die.” He will admit that might have been a little much, but he has much larger concerns now. “I gotta piss.”
As he steps outside of the smoke filled room, he breathes deep the fresh, quiet air. Fuck. He replays the past few minutes in his mind a couple of times, just making sure he really knows what happened. But it always pauses on one part. The large tent pitched in Kirishima’s pants. Bakugo rubs his temples. He got Kirishima hard. Or maybe it was just the weed? Does weed do that to you? And why did he run off like that? Well, Bakugo knows why he ran off, but surely it couldn’t have been that noticeable to the others, right? Maybe Kirishima really did just have to use the bathroom? Do dicks get hard when you have to piss? Maybe his breath really did stink?
The vibrations of his phone snap Bakugo out of the thoughts about his best friend's dick and his own possibly smelly breath.
Shitty Hair:
Image Attached
Bakugo opens the message wondering what could be- oh. Oh. Oh my god. Displayed on his phone is one of the biggest dicks he’s ever seen. It’s like, porn star sized. The tip glistens, wet with precum. It’s long, probably around seven inches, and thick with a neatly trimmed tuft of black pubes surrounding the base. A large vein runs up the front of the shaft and curves off to the side.
The sight makes Bakugos knees weak and a rumble of arousal rush through his gut.
Another vibration.
Shitty Hair:
You game?
Fuck.
His mouth is dry. A ball of nerves and lust swirls in his stomach. Is he game to possibly ruin his friendship by doing this? Is he game to lose his virginity? What if it makes things awkward? Maybe it’s not that deep. People have sex when they're drunk and high. Maybe sometimes it's with a friend. Right? It’s normal for a friend to take your virginity, right??
Fuck .
His legs move without him telling them to do so. Before he can comprehend it, he’s stood in front of Kirishima’s dorm room, his hands rapping a knock on the door.
The door swings open almost immediately. Bakugo almost gasps at the sight standing before him.
Kirishima looked like a beast . He hit a growth spurt in their second year and got absolutely massive, a solid head taller than Bakugo. Kirishima’s face is dark, eyes filled with hunger, like he’s a dragon staring at his prey. And his fuckin’ muscles. Kirishima looks like he bench presses buses. Bakugo knew he was in good shape, he trained with him almost every day, but this was a different situation. He’s only wearing a pair of tight, black boxers, showing off more than just his insane stature. There’s a black happy trail that leads into the underwear, accompanied by a very noticeable bulge.
The blonde dryly swallows and speaks, trying his hardest to keep his voice from shaking. “I’m game.”
That was all the redhead needed. Bakugo is pulled in by the wrist, Kirishima’s lips crashing against his as the door slams shut behind them. Bakugo grips the taller man’s broad shoulders to keep from falling over. There’s no hesitation in this kiss, no gentle lick asking for permission to enter. Large, calloused hands begin exploring Bakugo’s body. One snakes its way up the back of his shirt, resting on his lower back as one creeps to cup his ass.
Bakugo melts from the other man’s touch and drags his nails down the larger man's back, causing a deep growl to rumble out of Kirishima as he breaks the kiss. The noise goes straight to Bakugo’s clit.
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.” Kirishima whispers into Bakugo’s ear. It makes the smaller man shiver, goosebumps rippling across his body.
Keep it together Katsuki. Be confident.
“I don't know. This ,” Bakugo sinks to his knees and runs his hand along the length of Kirishima’s dick, straining against his underwear. He looks up at Kirishima and flashes a wicked grin, “gives me a bit of a hint.”
He must’ve done something right based on the noise that Kirishima makes, and that just encourages the blonde more. He leans forward and softly kisses the patch of hair just above the waistband. He moves down, ever so slowly, towards the tip where a wet spot has gathered on the boxers. He continues, kissing his way down to the base of the bulge. Bakugo inhales as he kisses. It smells like fuckin’ heaven . A woodsy bodywash mixes with Kirishima’s sweat, and a bit of residual smoke from the sesh still lingers. Bakugo’s head is spinning, crossed off of liquor, weed, and lust.
The blonde can’t wait any longer. He wants to see it in person. He hooks his fingers around the waistband of Kirishima’s underwear, and swiftly pulls them down.
Holy. Fuck.
It flings out of the boxers and bobs in the air a few times, and a pearl of precum beads at the head. The dick pic Kirishima sent severely understated just how hung he was. It looked closer to eight inches in real life, well over half the length of Bakugo’s forearm.
Obviously, Bakugo has never sucked a dick before, and while this was a night of firsts, he was truthfully intimidated by just how massive this thing was. But, just like with the weed, he’s in too deep to pussy out now, even if he wanted to. Which he most definitely did not. So, he tentatively licks at the leaking tip, red and angry. Bakugo hums as he tastes the precum on his tongue. It’s mildly salty, and has an odd texture, but it’s not unpleasant. Plus, the noise that comes from the gargantuan redhead standing above him makes it even more rewarding.
Continuing in his ministrations, Bakugo moves to the base, kissing the balls that hang heavily under Kirishima’s dick. With his confidence building, the blonde looks up at Kirishima, looking deep into his eyes, as he slowly licks a long, warm stripe from the base of the imposing cock all the way to the head.
The redhead groans as he speaks, his voice dark with lust. “Fuuuuck you look so pretty on your knees. I’ve wanted to see you like this for so-” His words are choked off as Bakugo opens wide, taking the tip in his mouth. His tongue strokes the glands on the underside and swirls around the thick head. Rough hands are immediately tangled in Bakugo’s hair, and he can see the man above him let his head hang backwards, fully drinking in the sensations. Encouraged by the sweet nothings, Bakugo inches further onto the dick. Without any warning but a groan, Kirishima begins to thrust gently in and out of his mouth.
A gag erupts from Bakugo, but Kirishima’s grip on the blonde locks remains firm. “I gotcha baby,” The redhead reassures, “relax your throat for me. I’ll help you with it.”
Bakugo is far too filled with weed and alcohol and lust to even consider arguing. He does his best to obey, letting his mouth hang open as Kirishima begins to fuck his face. The sound of gags fills the room as Kirishima quickens his pace, his cock sliding deep in and out of Bakugo’s throat. Tears stream down Bakugo’s face as his mouth is used, his nose hitting the tuft of black pubic hair each time Kirishima thrusts as deep as he can.
“Be a good boy for me and you’ll get a reward, okay?” Is all the warning Bakugo gets as the dick is shoved balls deep once again, but it doesn’t pull back out. His eyes shoot up towards the redhead, only to be met with a devilish grin. Kirishima just holds him there, cooing and praising. Bakugo can feel himself running out of air, the thick cock occupying his airways. Just as he begins to struggle, Kirishima pulls out, letting Bakugo gasp for air. But the reprieve doesn’t last long, for his throat is filled once again.
The blonde can’t tell how much time passes as Kirishima continues choking him on his cock, only letting him up for air when his face turns red and his body quakes. He can feel spit and precum flow down his chin, soaking the collar of his shirt leaking into his binder. If Bakugo could form thoughts above the level of a caveman, he would probably be thinking about how fuckin’ disgusting and hot this is.
Finally, after nearly passing out on Kirishima’s cock, Bakugo’s throat is given a break. “Such a good boy for me. You ready for your reward?” Kirishima asks, looking down at the well used blonde beneath him. All Bakugo can muster in response is a quick nod. A humiliating squeak shoots from Bakugo’s sore throat as the larger man picks him up by the underneath of his armpits, carrying him to the bed like a toy.
Bakugo is dazed and the room around him is spinning, but he’s with it enough to know he’s about to get fucked. So when he’s sat on the bed, he wastes no time undressing. He lifts his ass off the bed, pulling his sweats and boxers down, tossing them who knows where in the room, along with his shirt. He feels exposed, sitting on his best friend's bed with only a binder on.
Of course, said best friend is also naked, and currently staring at his cunt like it’s a nice cut of ribeye.
“Jesus, you look like you’re gonna fuckin’ eat me.” The blonde says, still short of breath. The words break the redhead's trance and Bakugo swears he can almost see a dusting of pink across Kirishima’s cheeks when the boy looks up at him.
Kirishima grins as he speaks, “Maybe that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. I did promise you a reward, right?”
It takes Bakugo a moment to comprehend what Kirishima meant. By the time he does, Kirishima is already moving down between his legs, planting kisses on his toned thighs, each kiss inches closer and closer to the neatly trimmed cluster of blonde pubes.
Ah. So he’s not about to get fucked. At least, not yet.
Kirishima wasn’t lying about it being a reward. He isn’t tentative when it comes to oral like Bakugo had been. He dives in, licking a hot stripe up Bakugo’s pussy. The blonde can’t help but moan, falling back onto the bed and gripping Kirishima’s long locks.
Kirishima devours Bakugo, licking and slurping, pushing his tongue deep into the warm hole then flicking it over his twitching clit. Bakugo can hear himself moaning, feel his clit pulsing and his hole clench around the intruding tongue. It’s obscene. The wet noises, the moans, the way Kirishima looks up at him, it’s all so much. Too much. A whole ten seconds have passed and he can feel heat coiling in his stomach. Bakugo tries to warn him, tries to tell Kirishima to slow down, tries to string together a coherent sentence, but nothing comes out aside from a ragged scream. Bakugo squeezes his eyes shut as his orgasm tears through him. He cums hard, his entire body spasming, his thighs trapping Kirishima in place.
It’s utterly euphoric. Bakugo masturbates when he needs to destress, but this is like no other orgasm he’s had before. A massive wave of comforting warmth flows through his body. He can feel his head vibrating, like he took another hit from the blunt. His muscles relax so much he doesn’t think he could move even if he wanted to. He feels as though he could fall asleep at this very moment.
That is, until he feels a thick warmth pressing between his legs. He raises his head to see Kirishima standing above him, lining up his cock with Bakugo’s soaked hole. The redhead is looking deep into his eyes, face shrouded in desire.
“You ready?”
The words sound like liquid gold as they bounce off of Bakugo’s eardrums. The blonde nods, perhaps too enthusiastically. He imagines how he looks, face coated in spit and precum, beet red, matching his bloodshot eyes, hair mussed. All while this hunk of a man stands in between his spread legs.
Bakugo watches as Kirishima sinks balls deep easily, filling him to his entirety. Moans escape from both mens lips, joined in a unison of pleasure, as Bakugo’s eyes go wide and Kirishima lets his head fall backwards. He feels every inch as it slides deep inside him, bottoming out somewhere above his belly button. He swears if he pushed hard enough, he could feel the head. There’s no pain, but an intense feeling of fullness and warmth in the depths of his body.
Kirishima whispers out an expletive and wastes no time, setting a quick pace. Bakugo feels empty as the hot member pulls out of him, only to have it immediately brought back. Each time, the head brushes against his G spot, igniting the sensitive bundle of nerves for just a moment. All Bakugo can do is watch and moan.
The redhead leans down, planting hard kisses on Bakugo’s lips before speaking, “God you’re fuckin’ tight. Does it feel good, Bakugo?”
The cock drilling inside of him drives all the air out of his lungs with each thrust, so all the blonde can muster is a string of huffs. If he wasn’t so fucked out of it and high, he’d be humiliated being reduced to a stuttering mess. But all his brain can comprehend now is pleasure.
Kirishima tuts as he moves to Bakugo’s ear, his voice laced with dominance while he whispers, “Come on baby. Be a good boy and use your words for me.”
A shiver runs down Bakugo’s spine and goes straight to his clit. He wants to be a good boy. He wants to be a good boy for Kirishima . He can do it.
“Y-yes!” The blonde manages to choke out. He can feel tears of pure pleasure prickle at the corner of his eyes, threatening to spill out. “Yesyesyesyes-” Each word of approval hits a higher pitch as he descends into babble.
The redhead hums in approval, kissing and sucking on Bakugo’s neck. One hand moves down to cup Bakugo’s ass, and the other grips onto his binder, giving him leverage to pound the twink harder.
And that's exactly what Kirishima does. He’s hitting deeper and deeper with each thrust, his cock repeatedly slamming against Bakugo’s cervix hard enough to bruise it. Bakugo feels the tense heat in his gut build with every thrust, his toes curl and his eyes squeeze shut.
“Fuck, I’m gonna-”
The redhead seems to know what he was going to say, as he bears down on the binder and sinks his pointed teeth into the soft flesh of Bakugo’s neck.
And the sharp pain is what sends Bakugo over the edge. The tears stuck in the corners of his eyes flow freely, and the heat gathered in his stomach releases with an explosion, along with a gush of liquid. It covers Kirishima’s torso, as if he just got out of the shower. Bakugo can barely feel the colorless liquid run down his thighs as his orgasm ravages him. If his first orgasm of the night was euphoric, this one was unadulterated perfection . The weed and the booze make it so much more intense, he swears he can feel his blood rush through his veins like a raging waterfall.
“Oh my fucking god.” Kirishima says, voice shaken with awe and lust. He seems to have been pushed over the edge too, based off of the warm ropes of cum Bakugo feels land on his chest and stomach.
Wait. Chest?
Bakugo’s eyes snap open to reveal the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his entire life.
Kirishima is standing over him, stroking the remaining drops of cum from his cock out onto Bakugo’s exposed chest, the binder lying in shreds to his sides. Bakugo can see the hand that was once gripping it for leverage has since turned rock solid.
The redheads eyes go wide as his post nut clarity hits, “Oh my god Bakugo, I’m so sorry bro, I didn’t mean to, you just felt so good and I was-”
“You just made me squirt, dumbass. It’s fuckin’ fine.” Bakugo can’t even muster the strength to add an annoyed tone to his words, as he lays back on the bed, exhausted from the pounding. His mind wanders as he starts to come down from his literal and metaphorical high. What did this mean? Did it mean anything at all? Was it just a way for Kirishima to drain his balls? Maybe it was just a way for Bakugo to drain his own.
The blonde was so lost in thought he didn’t even notice the redhead walk to his closet. It’s only when the larger man speaks that he realizes he’s been laying in silence for who knows how long.
“Here, I’m sure it's not the same, but hopefully it’ll help a bit!”
Bakugo sits up to see Kirishima with a sheepish smile on his face, and in his hands in a red tank top. It’s small, definitely too small for Kirishima to wear now, but Bakugo recognizes it. Kirishima wore it often during their first year.
“It doesn’t fit me anymore, but I kept it for nostalgia I guess.” The redhead speaks, sitting down on the bed beside Bakugo, handing the blonde boy the tank top.
Bakugo accepts it in silence and pulls it on. It’s not tight enough to bind him much, if any at all, but that isn’t what matters.
It was Kirishimas. And now it’s his. And that matters.