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Kirishima was panting— was breathless. Each puff of air came out ragged and ruined. Sweat dripped from his forehead, dampening the arm he had over his eyes.
He glanced up, above the headboard, attempting to focus on anything to last, to keep himself together, to keep himself from unravelling just a little bit longer. He saw his posters lining the wall. They were dim and dark. He couldn’t quite make out the details.
The room was too shadowed– the only light source coming from the moon that somehow managed to peak its way through the small gap in the curtain, giving everything a soft haze.
Another bounce.
Kirishima grit his teeth, feeling tears well in his eyes. He gripped the sheets, looking for something to stabilize him, but was just greeted with just the sounds of fabric ripping under his grasp.
Someone chuckled above him. “What’s wrong Red? I thought you said you could handle it?”
Kirishima’s gaze snapped up at the sound of the rough, deep, familiar voice. His breath caught at the sight of Bakugou, his blonde hair slicked back with sweat, and his red eyes piercing into his soul.
He gulped at the sight of the man on top of him, straddling him, taking his erection like it was the easiest thing in the world. There was a devilish grin on his face, almost shining brighter in the moonlight. Kirishima bit his bottom lip, and felt his cock pulse.
He was close. God, he was close. And seeing Bakugou like this– his chest bare, hairs laying frazzled around his scars that made it seem like a mark from a god. Yeah, that didn’t exactly help.
A groan escaped Bakugou’s lips, a tilt of his head stretching back as he adjusted on top of Kirishima. The redhead gasped, the movement too much, Bakugou’s hole too tight.
His partner was still watching Kirishima, breathing hard and smiling at his every movement, his every whimper. Jutting his hips a little bit just to get a reaction.
And he got one.
A whine escaped Kirishima’s lips. He couldn’t help it. Every sensation, every touch, every movement Bakugou graced him with made him crazy. It all felt so good. Bakugou took perfect control, whispering Kirishima’s name into the room like he was praising some deity before slamming himself down on him again.
Eventually, Kirishima felt hands grip at his chest, palms laid open as the blonde leaned down to meet the redhead, his cock slipping out of the wet heat ever so slowly, until just the tip remained inside.
Kirishima’s gasps started to sound like begging. He didn’t even realize when it started, but at some point, the breaths turned into whines, and the whines turned into words, and suddenly Kirishima found himself whispering streams of “don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
Bakugou’s forehead met his own, and Kirishima felt his partner's breath graze his lips. He was hungry. No he was starving. He leaned in, just enough for his top lip to rest on Bakugou’s, touching it oh so featherlight that he hardly could feel it.
“What do you want Ei?” Bakugou asked, the feel of his lips ever so softly brushing over Kirishima’s, making his eyes flick up to rich velvet irises.
Words were too difficult, but Bakugou shifted the head of Eijirou’s cock, wanting an answer. He whined, tongue leaping forward for just a taste of Bakugou. Just a sliver.
The blonde leaned back, not far, maybe an inch or two, but it was enough for Kirishima to panic. His hands snapped up to Bakugou’s waist, feeling the muscle beneath the pads of his fingers.
Bakugou smirked down once again, one eyebrow quirked up as he watched Kirishima unravel right before his eyes. “Heh… desperate, huh?” Bakugou leaned forward– Kirishima’s hands loosening around his waist but far too addicted to the touch to let it go. Lips grazed the redhead’s ear, nipping along the lobe, forcing Kirishima into patience he didn’t think he could handle. “I’ll ask you again, Red. What do you want?”
Kirishima was losing it. His erections leaked and ached from Bakugou’s teasing– his ass now barely taking it, almost completely releasing hold of him.
“Y-you,” Kirishima stammered out with every brain cell he had left, “I want you, Bakugou. Let me kiss you– Fuck,” Bakugou inched down on his shaft, “Let me taste you. Please. I want to taste you!”
Kirishima wasn’t sure how loud he was. How quiet he might’ve been. Was all that said in his head? Had he screamed it to the rooftop? Could his neighbors hear him? Did Bakugou hear him?
That question was swiftly answered with a tongue shoved in his mouth, exploring every inch of it. Kirishima brought a hand up and tangled it Bakugou’s hair as he kissed back, fighting the blonde’s tongue with his own, inhaling every breath Bakugou was willing to grant him.
Bakugou slipped further down, shifting slowly and bottoming out as he engulfed Kirishima in his taste.
Kirishima let out another gasp.
Eventually he pulled away, leaving a trail of saliva connecting his and Kirishima’s tongue’s. He wiped at his mouth, sitting back fully on the cock inside him, and Kirishima moaned, head lulling back in pleasure.
“Hey!” Bakugou yelled. “Eye’s on me, Red. Right here.” He pointed up at his eyes. That cocky grin was back, and it took everything in Kirishima to not pull him back down for a kiss.
The redhead nodded instead because that’s all his brain could compute other than kiss, fuck, cum .
“Good.”
Bakugou readied his hands back on Kirishima’s chest, fingers trailing and circling his nipples for just a moment before arching his back and making eye contact with Kirishima. This time he wasn’t smiling. This time he was looking at Kirishima like he was a 3-course meal and Bakugou hadn’t eaten for years.
Kirishima caught the way the blonde bit his lip for just a moment, letting it slip out of his hold just as soon as he caught it. He was careful to not show how much he wanted this. Wanted Kirishima. But the redhead knew. He knew the look of desire in Bakugou’s eyes. He knew that fire better than anyone, and he was more than willing to match it.
“You don’t cum till I cum. Got it,” Bakugou whispered, and it took everything in Kirishima to nod back, worried even that might make him spill over himself.
A smirk.
That’s all the warning Kirishima got before Bakugou started bouncing. Up and down and up and down, using his cock like it was a toy.
Kirishima followed orders. He kept watching, licking his lips at the pre drizzling from Bakugou’s cock and onto Kirishima’s stomach. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, as if each thrust punched the air out of him, and he didn’t know how to get it back.
He’s pretty sure he was making some noises. He’s pretty sure Bakugou was too. He’s pretty sure at some point he said “I love you,” but he couldn’t tell. Couldn’t tell if he had actually said it, or if those were just the words playing on repeat in his head.
The only thing he heard for sure was the sound of his name leaving Bakugou’s lips through pants and huffs and breaths. “Red! Red! Oh fuck, Red!”
The words got louder, harsher. Bakugou was leaning in more– hands shaking his shoulders with each thrust, gripping hard enough to leave bruises.
“Kirishima,” he said, “Kirishima. Kirishima. Kirishima. Wake up!”
Kirishima jolted up.
Awake .
His chest was heaving. His mouth was dry. His muscles hurt and he could feel where bruises had started to form. There was a crick in his neck, the kind he’d get from a stiff pillow. He was sore and aching.
Once his heart rate calmed, realization hit him square in the face. He was in a hospital room. In a hospital bed. It was bright, the sun making the white sterilized room almost glow. The air smelled of disinfectant and hand sanitizer. Dust particles streamed in, catching on the rays, and as Kirishima’s eyes followed one, he finally made eye contact with matching red.
Bakugou sat beside him, his hands placed on his shoulders, gripping tight. His scowl was well-worn on his face like he had been worried, like the lines of stress in his forehead had deepened.
“Sorry,” Bakugou said, a bit shyly, bringing his hands down to his lap. “You were freaking out in your sleep.”
“Oh…” was all the redhead could respond with. Suddenly he remembered a bit more, flashes of memory returning along with a slight headache.
They had been fighting a villain, someone with some sort of underground quirk, digging and zooming beneath the streets. And they found a structure with a weak foundation, some place easy to topple, and Kirishima was the last in the building before it fell.
That would certainly explain all the aches and pain and the whole waking up in a hospital thing.
But why was Bakugou beside him? Why were the dark circles under his eyes worse than before, like he was worn down and tired. Was it for him? Was he worried about Kirishima?
Bakugou huffed a sigh, shoulders loosening up ever so slightly. “Welcome back…” Something in Kirishima’s face must’ve been off because with a closer look, Bakugou added on, “You okay, Red?”
“Uh… yeah. I’m good,” Kirishima answered, a bit taken aback by the tone, the softness, the gentle way Bakugou’s voice soothed him. “Just a little sore… but good.”
“Good,” Kirishima watched pink lips curve up, just a hair. Most people wouldn’t notice, but Kirishima wasn’t most people to Bakugou. The blonde leaned in, and Kirishima’s eyes blew wide, his heart freezing right up until the moment Bakugou gently brushed a strand of hair behind his ear. “I was worried about you.”
They made eye contact. Kirishima wasn’t sure how long. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but it felt like an infinite pool of time that he was stuck, lost in Bakugou’s eyes.
Bakugou leaned back and cleared his throat, “We were worried about you. The other idiots I mean. They were all worried too.”
“...Yeah,” Kirishima said like he was relearning how to breathe.
And all too suddenly, the redhead remembered his dream. The way Bakugou looked. The way he took him so full, so powerful, so in control. The way he glistened with sweat and hair and muscle. The way he whispered to him, and moaned his name and nearly came on his cock.
And all too suddenly, Kirishima was horrified to realize that he was completely hard in this hospital bed, just staring at his best friend… who he also had a wet dream about…
Fuck.
His face flushed a bright red, and quickly he bunched the sheets and blankets around his legs as he tried desperately to convince Bakugou to leave the room for a little while.
Luckily, it wasn’t unusual for Kirishima to be motivated by his stomach, so Bakugou soon left to grab the pair food, all the while Kirishima rubbed one out in the bathroom– beside himself that, not only had all of that happened in front of his best friend, but it was because of him.
That didn’t stop Kirishima from reliving the memory over… and over… and over… and over again until he found his release.
After that day, Kirishima may have been trying to avoid bumping into Bakugou.
It wasn’t like he didn’t want to see him. He did. More than anything. Every day. Without any clothes on preferably.
But that was the problem. All those years believing he just admired Bakugou, keeping him by his side– his best friend, the most important person in his life? Well… Kirishima quickly realized that wasn’t exactly the whole truth of it.
Sure, maybe he had thought a bit too often about how those lips might taste, or Bakugou smelled when he woke up in the morning, or the way Kirishima could imagine greeting him after a long days work with arms wrapped around his waist and whispering sweet sentiments into his ear.
Yes, he had thought about all of those things. But denial is a river in Egypt, and Kirishima was more than willing to ride along with the stream.
Until now. Because now he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Couldn’t stop imagining it. Bakugou on top of him. Bakugou below him. Bakugou taking him. Bakugou inside him. He didn’t care. He just wanted him.
And, of course, that meant he had to avoid the blonde until these dirty thoughts left his mind forever.
That was the most rational solution after all.
The biggest problem now, however, was that he was sitting in front of Bakugou, in his apartment, looking all too guilty as the other man stared at him with his practiced glower, arms folded and looking a little too attractive for Kirishima’s liking.
“So,” Kirishima started, an innocent smile plastered on, “What did you want to talk about?”
“Why are you avoiding me?” Bakugou’s voice was stern, no nonsense.
“What? I haven’t been–”
“Nope,” He cut him off, “Don’t pull that shit right now. Why the hell are you avoiding me?”
Kirishima clenched his jaw, staying silent and shrinking in on himself. His hand fidgeted with the rip on his jeans, and he tried so hard to steer his mind clear from the real reason, knowing that even just the image of Bakugou on top of him like that will make him red in the face.
“Fuck,” Bakugou huffed out, standing up and moving around the room a bit, expelling energy with each step. “You’ve been acting weird ever since you had that accident. What? Did I do something? Are you mad at me or some shit?”
“No!” Kirishima’s eyes followed him as he walked, each word cutting his secret more and more loose from its binds. “No no no. Of course you didn’t do anything. I’ve just been… dealing with personal stuff. Okay?”
Bakugou stood silent, crossing his arms, his gaze fixed to the ground for the most part, but every so often, his eyes would flick back up, looking at him, assessing him, before escaping to the wood floor beneath them.
“I just… I can’t… gah,” he huffed a frustrated sigh and rubbed his face with his hands as if to give his mind a clean slate. “It’s just that when I see you avoiding me but hanging around the other idiots like nothing is wrong, but for some damn reason you can’t seem to get less than 5 feet away from me, it makes me wonder…”
Bakugou was spiraling.
At some point during his rambling, Kirishima stood up, slowly making his way over to the blonde as he continued, “And like… was it the hospital? What I said? Cause… if that made you feel weird or whatever, you can just tell me, okay! It’s not like it’s gonna… fucking hurt my feelings or whatever.”
And with that last word, Kirishima gently reached for Bakugou’s hands. His fingers grazed the outside, the knuckles and nails, before scooping his palms into his hands and bringing them close to his chest.
He massaged them gently, pressing into the skin just enough to be calming. “I’m sorry…” he whispered, eyes still glued to his hands and the way they relaxed with his touch, “it’s not you. You could never do anything that’d make me act like this. I’ve just been an idiot about a lot of things.”
Kirishima looked up, seeing Bakugou’s eyes sparkle in awe as he watched him. He looked gorgeous.
His gaze flicked down to those pink, full lips, and he could swear Bakugou gave him a slight nod— something most people wouldn’t notice. Kirishima wasn’t most people. Not to Bakugou.
He leaned in, slow, as if waiting to be stopped at any minute. But he wasn’t, he kept going. And once contact was made, once their lips met, once that touch was established, it was like fireworks.
They kissed slow and deep, mouths slotting perfectly into each other’s each time they parted.
Kirishima lifted the hands he was holding to his shoulders, wrapping them around his neck— maybe silently asking the blonde to play with his hair. Kirishima didn’t care, he just wanted Bakugou closer.
He enveloped his own hands around that muscled waist, feeling along each stretch of sculpted skin till he found where his hands fit best. It made him groan. It made him share a soft vibration into Bakugou’s lips.
He pulled closer. He just wanted him closer. He just wanted to feel every inch of him. Feel every bit of his heat on the creases of his fingers.
Bakugou snaked his tongue in Kirishima's mouth, tangling it along with his own. It was like a dance. There was no struggle for power. No fight for dominance. There was give and take, like a wave washing up on the shore.
He clung onto Kirishima’s neck tighter, letting his fingers lace with the strands of hair, giving it a bit of pull before diving in once more to taste those sharp teeth.
Kirishima broke their kiss to nip along Bakugou’s jaw, grazing his teeth along his neck, kissing and sucking just enough to leave the slightest mark. He felt the vibrations of a hum as he kept biting, his hands wrapping further at the small of his back, supporting his arch.
“I dreamed of you, Katsuki,” Kirishima said between pecks. “That’s why. I had a dream at the hospital.” He bit down. Bakugou gasped. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I couldn’t stop imagining you riding my cock. Taking me so good.”
“Ei,” Bakugou whined, “Please… I want that.”
Kirishima stopped, shifting so he was making eye contact. “You want that?”
Bakugou bit his lip and nodded, looking breathless. Looking desperate. “I want you,” he whispered.
Kirishima raised his hand, cupping his face and letting his thumb rub against the scar on his cheek. “Is that… how you want it?”
Bakugou tightened his grip and leaned in, so his words could be felt on Kirishima’s lips. “Not… yet. I want to let go, Ei.”
Kirishima understood.
“You can let go with me Katsuki. I’ll catch you. I’ll always catch you.”
…
They kissed as they roamed to the bedroom. They kissed as they tore and nabbed at each other’s clothes. They kissed as the fell onto the sheets. They kissed as Kirishima flailed an arm in the bedside drawer to find his bottle of lube and a condom.
They kissed and kissed and kissed until Kirishima realized he couldn’t prep his lover without breaking their lip lock.
With a sigh, he sat back and opened the bottle, coating his hand and warming it in his palm before tracing it along Bakugou’s entrance. His touch was soft and gentle and tender, as if he was trying not to scare the blonde away.
He pressed one finger in. It was so tight. Bakugou was so tight. He clenched around him, and Kirishima leaned down, kissing up his chest scars until their tongues were interlacing.
He started to pull his finger out and back in again, careful not to go too fast. His other hand cradled Bakugou’s neck, massaging softly on his scalp to help him relax. Their mouths buzzed with Bakugou’s groans– his whimpers, and Kirishima thought it must be what heaven sounds like.
“You’re doing so good baby,” Kirishima whispered, pressing another finger in slowly, swallowing Bakugou’s gasp. “I got you, Kats. I got you.”
Kirishima’s fingers started to spread apart, opening his hole, stretching it, prepping it. But he never left Bakugou’s sight. Never let their gaze disconnect. He stayed right there, leaning his forehead against the other– sharing his air with each slight shift.
“M- more. Ei, please.”
Kirishima obeyed, drenching his hand with a bit more lube on his hole before slipping in a third finger. Bakugou hummed, biting back his noises like they were some kind of curse.
“Kats, I want to hear you. Please let me hear you.” As he breathed those words, he curled his fingers, just a little, just enough, and Bakugou let himself moan, let himself be loud. It was beautiful.
Kirishima was in love with it. In love with every sound that left Bakugou’s throat. Every pitch he sang into his ear.
He curled again, searching for the spot as he listened to the vibrations of Bakugou’s chest. His fingers curled with his thrusts– becoming a bit harsher, a bit deeper, until he heard the sweet sound of Bakugou’s gasp.
But it wasn’t the same as before. It was melodic. It was hungry. It was breathless. It was the signal that Kirishima had found it– that pretty spot that would make Bakugou see stars. It made Kirishima’s dick twitch, his hard on becoming more and more difficult to ignore. He kneaded the spot, playing with it, listening to the beautiful choir of sounds coming from Bakugou.
He wanted more and more and more. As much as he could possibly have, he wanted it.
“Eijirou,” Bakugou said, giving Kirishima pause, waiting for his partner to tell him what he wanted, what he could do for him. “Fuck me. Please… I need you inside of me.”
Kirishima’s throat closed. His breath stuttered. His chest tightened and for a moment he thought he might cry. He slipped his fingers out, leaving Bakugou gaping at the emptiness and leaned down to place a gentle peck at his forehead.
Bakugou brows furrowed. His hands came up, and with two hands, he cupped behind Kirishima’s ears, gently nudging him into eye contact. “Are you okay,” he whispered, completely sobered from the pleasure before.
Kirishima let a tear fall– just one– as a wobbly smile crossed his face. He leaned into Bakugou’s touch, gratitude gracing every bit of his heart. “I just… I love you so much Kats.”
Bakugou’s eyes flashed with something. A vulnerability that was anything but weak. He brought Kirishima’s lips close, yet never letting the connection between reds flicker. “I love you to, Ei. I love you so much that I don’t know what to do with it all half the time. You’re my everything. You’re mine.”
Their lips connected, tasting each other over and over again. Never getting their fill. Never getting enough. It was never enough. Kissing wasn’t enough.
So Kirishima broke the kiss, rolling the condom down his cock and dousing it with another squeeze of lube, before coming back to those lips that hypnotized him completely.
With one hand guiding him in, he entered Bakugou’s ready hole, feeling the way he fit inside the blonde– feeling as if he was the perfect fit, the perfect shape for the man’s heat.
He started out slow, letting a bit more inch in with each thrust, until he bottomed out, giving Bakugou his whole length, and feeling the way he clenched in gratitude. They both groaned at the depth, letting it sink in, kissing their way through the pleasure of it all.
“More, Ei. I need more.”
And that was all the reassurance Kirishima needed before he started pounding, holding onto Bakugou like he was a lifeline, and Bakugou doing much the same. His legs tangled, tightened, around his waist. He felt nails scrap against his back, marking him up just a little.
He didn’t harden. He didn’t want to. He wanted people to see who he belonged to. Who he was with. Who was in love with him. He wanted the marks to stay until the day he died.
The bed shook beneath them, creating a white noise that neither had been aware of.
With each thrust, Kirishima got closer. His cock crying with the way Bakugou engulfed him. He needed release. He needed to cum. But he didn’t want to. Not yet. He wanted to satisfy first. He wanted Bakugou to feel good, feel as good as possible.
That image of him flashed in his memory again, the one from his dream.
You don’t cum till I cum. Got it.
Those words played in his head, streaming until it was drilled into Kirishima like a soldier off to war. He wasn’t going to cum, didn’t want to cum. Not before his beloved. Not before Bakugou.
He kissed down the blonde's chest again, this time sucking on a nipple, licking and teasing as Bakugou whined for more.
Kirishima’s hand found its way to the blonde’s dick. It was hard and leaking, and Bakugou was moaning his name as soon as he started playing with it. He stroked it up and down, thumbing and swiping at the tip, spreading the pre as far as it could go– using it like lube on a toy.
“I gonna…” Bakugou said, breathy but loud, like he wasn’t sure how to control his volume anymore. Kirishima’s hand stroked faster and faster, knowing exactly what was about to happen. “I gonna cum, Ei. I’m about to–”
And with one final stroke from the redhead, Bakugou was cumming into his hand. Kirishima’s lips pecked back up to Bakugou’s mouth, kissing his lover senseless, kissing him through it– feeling the urging desire to please.
Bakugou grabbed at his hair, clawing at it like it was the last thing that could ground him.
Kirishima placed one hand on the bed, something to steady him as he pounded into Bakugou’s ass, harder than before, chasing his own release. Bakugou’s spend filled his hand, still drizzling out, and now Kirishima was ready to let his own load go.
With the sounds of huffs and grunts and maybe the whisper of Kirishima’s name coming from Bakugou’s lips, he felt his climax hit, filling the condom almost to a breaking point.
There was a moment of stillness. A moment where all the sounds they had filled the space with dissipated, and it was just them– just the beating of their hearts and catching of breaths.
Kirishima was the first to break it, slumping onto Bakugou, holding his waist and nuzzling into his chest like he was about to fall asleep.
“I love you, Katsuki. I love you so much.” He said inhaling his scent. And for a moment, there was nothing. He though maybe he had said it too quietly, or maybe not at all. Then Bakugou’s hand came down to rub Kirishima’s spine, tickling the hairs on his neck.
“I love you too Ei,” Bakugou placed a gentle kiss on the top of his head, like he was trying to heal something bruised with a kiss. “Now we need to clean up.”
Kirishima tightened his hold and let out a dramatic whine. “Just a little longer? Please?”
He heard a soft chuckle above him, felt the hum of warmth at Bakugou’s chest. He couldn’t wipe the smile from his face if he tried. “Anything you want, Red.” Bakugou whispered, still rubbing at his back. “Anything.”