pacifisting | dynamight

From:

[ Midoriya resists the urge to pick him up and spin him like he wants to but it's a close thing. This is enough for right now, pressing his face into the dip of Bakugou's throat, inhaling. This is better than hoodies exchanged through the mail, this is better than lining his bed with pillows to try and imitate the real thing.

Midoriya knew he's going to cry but it's one thing to know it and another to feel his eyes pricking with relieved tears, squeezing him tighter, hiding his face a moment. ]

Okay, we'll get it. [ There's no kissing on the lips, but Midoriya's shameless: he presses his face in and presses a warm (slightly damp-cheeked) kiss to the base of his throat and then withdraws slowly, smiling. ] You can call her really fast and I'll get your suitcase for you?

[ The hand at Bakugou's back smooths down, settles under his jacket to press at the small of it, tugging him in for another lingering hug before Midoriya forces himself back with a strangled laugh. ]

It's so good to see you.

From:

dynamight

[Despite not crying, Bakugou's face and neck are speckled with a pink flush. He rubs his cheek and nose with the sleeve of his arm and jacket, trying to will the embarrassment away. No. Trying to will the happiness away. He's not happy!! He's not anything at all for this dumbass nerd!]

Yeah.

[Nailed it. For some reason, his heart doesn't want to stop pounding in his chest. Seeing Midoriya again... being in some wildly new place... It's too much. He needs a nap. (He misses the onsens already.)] What the... [He pauses just for a second, then snaps his hand out to snatch the hat off Midoriya's head.] The fuck...?

[His wide fingers curl around the back of Midoriya's neck... up? There's nothing. The pads of his fingers and his palms receive the tickle of soft stubble at the curve of Midoriya's head, and he rubs up and down to feel. There's nothing until he runs into the fluffy locks sitting high at the back.

It's weird. There is something older about this, something mature. Something hotter. Not a head full of stupid Deku mane, but a sleek and fashionable shave with a hint of endearing cuteness. Midoriya hadn't ever showed him the fucking back.

Bakugou looks surprised, half entranced, still flushed.]

What the fuck... [It's whispered, pleasantly Japanese. His hand slides away, lost between the two of them with the hat only partially offered, more hanging stunned.] You think I won't find a way to pull your hair still, damn nerd...?

From:

pacifisting

[ The undercut was mostly an afterthought when he went in to get his bangs trimmed. Ms. Potts (always Ms. Potts, he kind of loves her and wants Yaomomo to meet her desperately) had recommended a salon and he had nearly choked when he saw the final amount. Affordable, sure, because Mr. Stark was made of money apparently and they paid him a frankly obscene amount, but he never looked at the pay. They always went into a joint account he had with his mother so she could use it as needed.

The haircut was taken care of before he even got there, so it doesn't really matter, but he tipped ridiculously well when it was done, because the stylist had made his unruly mop manageable and he did like the undercut.

Now, with Bakugou's hand stroking over it, Midoriya hums with pleasure and snags the hat back, beaming up at him. He should have tipped even more, this is great. ] I really hope you will.

[ It's said low and intimate, just for him and then Midoriya's picking up his bags easily, throwing them over his shoulder as the carousel starts to blink and screech its awful alert. ]

It's about a thirty minute drive to the tower. If you're hungry, we can stop for food, or we can get something ordered there. Whatever's easiest.

[ He took the subway here but after that flight and Bakugou's day he's not going to make him suffer through the subway, he knows better. ]

From:

dynamight

[Jesus? Excuse him? Who the fuck took Izuku Midoriya, and who the hell is this fucker actually? It's not... the same person. Bakugou is shook. There's... no way... this is the same person who left Japan.

It's both attractive and infuriating, Midoriya's spike in confidence. How easy it is for Midoriya to grab his bags up and talk to him assertively about everything in this crazy damn country, this city. It isn't until this moment he has another realization that Midoriya isn't behind him anymore.

He's the one who is going to have to scramble to keep up.

Frankly, he stares for a long, hard, solid minute. The look is visible on his face. Finally, he moves, but slow, unsure. No, like he's trying to process it. He got on a plane and went into a vortex to another dimension!] Uh... [Crazy. He doesn't know how to use his words.

WORDS? His face crumbles, frustrated. Worried.] Whatever. I don't... give a shit. [He doesn't know any places here. He doesn't know the food, the drink, anything hardly. But Midoriya does.] As long as it doesn't taste like grease and piss.

From:

pacifisting

[ Is it too much? Is he too much?

The hesitation makes Midoriya hesitate in turn because Bakugou's just staring at him and Midoriya's suddenly awfully self-conscious again in the way that only the other man can make him. Maybe he should have left the bags. ]

Um. Okay. I'll make sure we avoid those. [ H-haha. Well, the bags aren't going to get themselves, so Midoriya takes him by the arm after tugging the beanie back on and then takes them to the proper place to grab the suitcase. He sees it come down and hefts it easily, but next to them is a woman with three kids trying to wrangle them and get bags at the same time.

He arranges Bakugou's stuff near him and then goes to crouch next to the kids, quietly asking them which bags are theirs after checking with the mother if he can help. One of them, the middle girl, clearly recognizes him because there's a moment where she stops, stares, and then looks at Bakugou consideringly, eyes narrow. Once all the bags are hefted up and organized on a cart, Midoriya waves off the thanks and gives the mother a bright smile, bowing and then catching himself, sheepishly rubbing the nape of his neck. ]

Sorry. Come on, we should go before it gets too busy. Let's get to the tower and then we can figure out what we wanna do?

From:

dynamight

[Without hesitation, Bakugou follows after, ready to reach up and grab the bags just to prove he can carry them himself. It feels too weird having Midoriya lug his stuff around. Thankfully, at the carousel, it’s all dropped. He gets the duffle and the backpack up again. The suitcase rolls, so it won’t be much of a problem, not even if Midoriya decides to push it along.

Then Midoriya is gone? Bakugou looks up, and the other man is crouched by the family. He frowns, and then he glares mildly at the girl when she gives him a kind of once-over, unsure of what she’s thinking. Judging him? Not knowing him? Does this little girl wanna freaking square up? He’ll fight a middle child, don’t think he won’t. He takes all his opponents seriously, kid or adult, man or woman.

But she says nothing, and his face softens again some. Sometimes, it’s easy to forget there’s more to being a hero than blasting C4 levels of nitroglycerin at villains. This is the part he has always struggled with the most. Helping on a social level, talking to people. He just isn’t... cut out for it. His quirk has always been about power, destruction. His whole lofe has been about that.

He feels vastly inadequate standing beside Midoriya, even if he would never say.] Mn. [He nods toward the rolling suitcase, refusing to give up the duffle and backpack.]

The “Tower.” Fine. Hurry the hell up.

From:

pacifisting

[ Waiting in the cab line isn't too bad mostly because they get there quickly enough and Midoriya leans forward, giving the address to an unimpressed cabbie. He lets Bakugou handle the bags because he knows better than to push the issue, but oh, he wants to. Either way, escaping the airport is a relief. When they're in and settled and off onto the road, they hit near instantaneous traffic which Midoriya isn't shocked by, but he gives Bakugou an apologetic little smile. ]

What kind of food are you thinking? If we're walking, I can show you some of the stuff around there but if you want to stay in that's fine, too. There's a list of delivery places a mile long.

[ The cab driver weaves in and out of traffic like he has a deathwish and Midoriya doesn't look phased in the slightest, too busy looking at Bakugou, drinking in the sight of him like a parched man who found a spring in the desert. One hand slides over, fingers dragging lightly over the back of Bakugou's hand, tracing little designs back and forth. ]

There's this tapas place in Brooklyn that I went to last week and it's...so good. I had no idea. The Tower's pretty central but for the most part it's a lot of businesses nearby. On the thirtieth floor there are a bunch of restaurants and honestly, we could probably get most anything else ordered up to the room so if that's easier, that's fine. I know traveling is... a lot and with a layover and the- everything, you know. [ A pause for breath, his smile widening just a little as he bumps their shoulders. ] You look great, by the way.

From:

dynamight

[Even if he’s tired, there’s no desire to make Midoriya shut up. The talking causes his brows to knit, but he doesn’t say anything. Merely rests his elbow on the door and his head in his palm, lids his eyes. The driver’s reckless journey through the street doesn’t seem to bother him. At least, not right now, not this one. (Give him time.) He may have dozed off, especially with Midoriya tickling the back of his hand.

The shoulder bump wakes him, and he sits up only a bit straighter as if thinking they might be stopping soon, drops his arm, the length of it gently numb. Out the window, nothing is familiar. He feels lost all over again, only relieved by the idea Midoriya is with him.

He glances back at Midoriya, grunting softly to clear his throat.] Yeah. [Not knowing what Midoriya had really said near the end. Agreeing is fine. It’ll be fine...

The sit turns into a lean toward Midoriya, one he isn’t completely aware of necessarily.] I don’t care. [He sounds drowsy, so maybe it’s obvious he had nodded off earlier.] Just take me... some fucking place. [He can’t help it; his head leans over. He just wants a quick recharge, preferably on Midoriya’s shoulder. Being stuck in traffic isn’t helping..] Just take me somewhere good... damn.

If you think it’s good... I guess... I fucking trust it.

From:

pacifisting

[ Oh, no, he's sleepy and cute and they're absolutely getting delivery. They can go somewhere nice for dinner. ]

Come here.

[ Seatbelts are limiting and probably would only keep them from getting thrown if they were in a crash; they're both durable enough he's relatively certain they'd survive but he's also not about to tempt fate. Instead, tugs Bakougou in by a firm hand his shoulder, pressing his cheek to the top of his head. He's probably going to fall asleep but that's good, and if he needs it Midoriya's going to enable it. ]

Mmm. So on 41st there's a Thai place, run by really nice people. There was a villain that stopped in there at one point and tried to rob it when I was getting lunch and now whenever I go in there the waitress gives me free appetizers, so I have to pay with card and then tip because they're ridiculous about it. A few blocks from that there's a burger place I think you'll probably like. The line's always crazy, but...

[ He keeps talking, low and quiet until they pull up to the front of the tower and someone pops the trunk to handle the bags. Midoriya passes his credit card through (thank you Ms. Potts, because it is laughably difficult to get a fucking bank account and being a hero means exactly nothing to American banking institutions, apparently) and then once he gets it back he tucks it away, squeezing Bakugou's shoulder rather than stroking any bare skin he can reach. Sleeping on a shoulder is...friendly. The other stuff is probably a little too intimate for the public. ]

Hey. We're here.

From:

dynamight

[Midoriya isn't wrong: Bakugou absolutely falls asleep again. It's more of a doze, a flutter open of his eyes for half a second when they stop suddenly, or when traffic drastically happens to change. But he's gone nevertheless.

Midoriya's shoulder is comfortable even if the seat belt cuts into his chest and digs into his side. He doesn't budge from the position, distantly listening to the thrum of Midoriya's voice chattering away about nothing in particular.

It relaxes him, surprisingly.

When he's roused, not the way he wants to be roused, his neck is stiff and his side aches. He feels, he thinks, worse for the nap and not better. Foggy, drowsy, as if sleep is trying desperately to drag him back. He blinks out of the windows, trying to reorient himself in a place he isn't even familiar.] Mn. [The purr is thick with sleep and hoarse, but pleasant.

The sun is maybe brighter for being in a city when he gets out of the door, and he raises his forearm to shield his eyes with a cast of shadow until he's use to standing in the sun without being incredibly tired.

Whichever poor fool is handling the bags gets some growled Japanese; Bakugou relinquishes the duffle and the suitcase, but keeps the backpack. Honestly, it feels like much of his life is in it, and there's security in knowing he has it, in the fact it's strapped to his back and not being walked by someone he doesn't know.]

This? Tch. [He tips his head back and peers up. Geez. Americans.] Too flashy. [It's sleek and modern. He likes it alright. Won't admit it.] Too tall.

From:

pacifisting

[ He likes all versions of Bakugou (mostly, the asshole for no reason one is still a little irritating) but sleepy, groggy Bakugou is probably his favorite and is the cutest. Midoriya holds back on the urge to touch him more and instead thumbs through bills in his wallet to give to the doorman, nudging Bakugou gently. ]

You know when you poke a sleeping cat and it makes that..."mmrow" noise? [ His cat impression? Not as good as his All Might. ] You do that sometimes when I wake you up. It's cute.

[ And then before Bakugou can respond, he's tugging him by the arm into the doors. If it wouldn't be a logistical nightmare, he'd see if he could jump up to the helipad, or if Bakugou's explosions could propel them up there but right now, he's more focused on getting a grumpy, sleepy boyfriend up into the tower. ]

It's...a lot, yeah. But then you meet the person who had it built and it all just sort of makes sense. He's...he's interesting. [ That's a word. Midoriya has told Bakugou plenty about him, but he's still an experience in person. ] They'll handle the bags. It's sort of like a hotel, I guess?

From:

dynamight

[Again:] Mn? [Not unlike the chirrup of a sleepy cat. He doesn't get whatever Midoriya is trying to say. Well, he does, but he's not sure why it applies to him because cute and Katsuki Bakugou should never be in the same sentence ever.

Rubbing an eye, he lets Midoriya guide him along, and it may have been better if Midoriya gave them a Mario jump or if he blew them to the helipad; by the end, he would have been more awake at least.]

Stark.

[Bakugou doesn't sound at all impressed.] This is fucking stupid. They should make up their mind whether they want this to be a damn attraction or a business building. [If Midoriya thought grouching (for a while) could be weaseled out of, Midoriya was wrong. He's... thankfully not yelling. Small blessings.

But he can pick out the pieces of the tower Midoriya had sent him in photos and, sometimes, video. They fall together like a puzzle. The floor, the walls, certain architectural designs, things he had seen in the background behind Midoriya's fluffy green head. He's looking all around, memorizing. Seeming kind of awed and curious even if he won't admit it.]

From:

pacifisting

Kacchan.

[ It is big building and there are still unused floors which is kind of absurd, really, but they're filling it bit by bit and the chaos is welcoming in its own way. The complaining, at least, is familiar. Midoriya rolls his eyes and doesn't take him on the scenic route despite how much he wants to.

That comes later after he tugs Bakugou into bed and gets some food into him. But despite the complaining, Bakugou's looking around, he's slowing and he seems curious about all of it so he slows, in turn, pressing them shoulder to shoulder. ]

There's not a lot of places to build here these days, not unless you go out further so they're building up instead of out. Mr. Stark isn't even here all of the time, but some of the others are. I got lost three times my first week until JARVIS told me he could get into my phone and would alert me if I was going the wrong way.

[ IT'S WILD. Midoriya gestures down a hall, all glass and steel. ] That puts you out onto the street, where the hotdog vendor is. I'm not letting you leave until you try one. Or a bite of mine. That's fine too.

From:

dynamight

So? Japan's been doing that shit for years.

[He's trying!! so hard!! to not be impressed!! by this grade-A American piece of work!! Let him have this, Midoriya.] "JARVIS"? The AI thing? [He forgot about that for a second.] Fuck. [This sucks. It knows Japanese, doesn't it? It knows a ton of languages.

He's screwed.] I ain't trying any of your garbage pissdogs, Deku. [He's going to one hundred percent try a New York hotdog because they are amazing, and he'll eat it and enjoy it. And shut up.

Luckily, he's probably only grouchy from flying and being tired, on top of being somewhat hungry. When he gets his sleep schedule straightened out--when he gets to be curled against and tangled with Midoriya, when he gets laid--and some food in him, he'll be fine.] Just get me into the room, dammit.

I'll worry about this fucking glass Pez dispenser later.

Edited (HTML STOP) Date: 2018-11-29 03:41 am (UTC)

From:

pacifisting

Mhm, he understands us.

[ The elevator bings open for them and Midoriya presses 36, leading him in. Getting to the room is ultimately uneventful; Midoriya places his palm against the little scanner and the door slides open.

It is, perhaps, a bit excessive.

Inside hasn't changed much from the photos he's sent, except there are new framed posters along with a corkboard. On it are articles in Japanese and English, but they're all about them. Missions and reports from everything they've been doing while Midoriya was gone, not unlike the fridge where his mom put his sketches. The living room area feeds into the kitchen, everything sleek and metallic. It's clean, save for a left out cereal bowl and a tipped over box of cereal. ]

Weird, normally she'd-

[ Oh, there they are. From the open bedroom door comes a bark and then a skitter of paws and nails across the floor as a small dog bounds forward and hits Midoriya's legs. ]

Hey, there, you were napping too, huh? [ Midoriya scoops her up and heads to Bakugou with an armful of an excited pomeranian. His smile is a little too amused to be entirely innocent. ] Kacchan, Barkugou.

From:

dynamight

[The shit. At the door, he halts long enough to suspiciously and curiously eyeball the handreader. Japan has quite a lot of growing technology, but even seeing something like this screams Extra and Innovation, and... well, Bakugou is wowed even if his face bunches up about it.

His bags are waiting on him just inside the door, and he's glad. Nothing seems out of the ordinary from an apartment in Japan, even with the lingering breakfast mess. It's the click of paws on the floor that's strange.

Not because there's a dog; Midoriya told him and showed him the dog. Bakugou has been aware there's a ridiculous, fluffy adopted pomeranian. What Bakugou didn't ever know was the name. The. Name.

Dropping his backpack lightly down by his other bags, his head snaps up when Midoriya introduces them.] The fuck? [His red eyes lower to the pom in Midoriya's arms, the one full of energy.] You think you're fucking clever or some shit, Deku? [His voice growls with the usual irritable tone, but... the dog... Midoriya is lucky. He's a little smitten?

He could punt the stupid thing across a football field, but it has large, liquidy black eyes and a small muzzle and a tongue, and fur standing wildly on end not unlike his own hair. UGH!!! Reaching out, he tries to pet it without it nipping his hand.]

I can't believe you named the goddamn dog that shit.

From:

pacifisting

[ Barkugou is much more of a people pleaser than her namesake; she licks at his fingers and wiggles until he has to put her down, bolting for her food and water while Midoriya lingers behind. ]

I mean, you have to admit the name is a little clever, Kacchan. [ He's actually quite proud of himself for it. But more importantly, they're in private, which they haven't been this whole time. Midoriya tosses his beanie onto the couch and goes to wash his hands, while Barkugou prances over to inspect the newcomer with her tail wagging fiercely. ] She's just a foster. I did some work with a shelter around here and they were looking for foster parents. I'll have her for a few months, I take her to adoption events, and wait for someone to adopt her.

[ He's picked up other things at the behest of the other heroes, not just Ms. Potts. Heroing comes in different shapes and forms but more than that, these kinds of things are like a palate cleanser. A consistent routine that isn't life-risking or saving, except for animals. ]

Come on, you can borrow my pajamas for now unless you want to dig yours out?

[ To be fair, the pair he'd lend Bakugou are Bakugou's that he stole, so.

Midoriya dries his hands off and then goes over to Bakugou and the dog, fitting himself up against the man from behind. His hands start at Bakugou's thighs and then slide up, just touching him for the sake of touch until he reaches Bakugou's ribs and then he stops, turning it into a hug from behind. ]

From:

dynamight

[Bakugou and Barkugou meet again unofficially. He's not mad it's a girl dog with his name. He's not even mad it's a fuzzy, cream-colored pomeranian with his name. The irritation is the name is clever, but still a butchering of his own name to fit a dog.

His family name. How could Midoriya do him so dirty like this?

The dog gets a narrow-eyed, attempt-to-be dominant stare down from a tipped up chin. He's peacocking with the damn dog. Trying to intimidating it without scaring it. Midoriya's palms can feel the tense line of the muscles of his thighs, the rigidity in his abs. A weird flex to do this whole thing with a tiny dog, but okay.]

Like hell. You're gonna be trying to bring this thing back home when you go. You're a fucking push-over. How're you gonna foster a dog and not get attached and cry like a baby when it's time to give it up? [He... feels a little bad for it himself, thinking about it.

About Midoriya leaving him for a while to come here. Now he's just advocating for the dog!!] You gonna love her and then leave her? For fuck's sake.

[The dog's wagging tail isn't even so much a wagging tail as it is the fluff on the back end moving left and right. It's so poofy. It's an electrocuted 70s furry rug with two black eyes, a mouth, and four paws.

For now, he doesn't dare pick it up or bend down and pet it. That'll just mean he's coming around, and while he won't be mean to the dog, he doesn't have to accept it's existence with his name! Turning his back on the cute thing, he twists in Midoriya's arms and instead focuses his attention on Midoriya completely. He hugs him around the shoulders, tucks his face in Midoriya's neck like he did at the airport.]

From:

pacifisting

[ Everyone has already told him that's what's going to happen and he knows that it's probably true. But until that point, well, he's going to do this and keep pretending like he can have a pet for a few weeks and not get ridiculously attached. ]

The goal of fostering is to free up space in the shelters, Kacchan. Besides, animals fostered by heroes get adopted out faster anyway.

[ It's very possible he won't have her very long which is...sad, but also means that the dog goes to a good home, so that's something, right? He's fought with himself constantly about it, about whether or not he can actually keep her and if he's going to be able to give her up when the time comes. He thinks he can, but that's mostly out of necessity and a determination not to think about all the ways he knows he can work around it and keep any animal he wants within reason.

Barkugou, apparently tired of them just standing, flounces off to her bed in the living room which means that Midoriya tilts his head to let him have full access to his throat, and kisses his ear lightly. ]

Hey... come to bed? You know me, I was up all night and a nap sounds nice.

[ He doesn't need one, but if he phrases it like a request for himself and not one for Bakugou it'll go better. ]

From:

dynamight

[Midoriya isn't wrong. Putting it as a request is much better than demanding, than heckling. But he lingers, takes a moment to almost nuzzle his face into Midoriya's skin, inhale quietly. This is how he stays for a long minute or two, unmoving, not speaking.

Just him and Midoriya standing in the silence, and him drinking up the feeling of the other man.

He can tell now, he hadn't been wrong. About sensing something in the very pit of him, something that felt hollow and cold up until they had meet again in person. Now it's vibrant, wanting, warm, and he thinks he can tell that these are two pieces of One For All trying to connect once more.]

I'm fucking coming.

[Finally, his arms loosen and he draws somewhat away, enough to give Midoriya room to move, room for him to shuffle after drowsily. He made a mistake attaching to Midoriya again. He's become lulled and sleepy all over.]

From:

pacifisting

[ It feels like a part of himself that was missing is back again. The Tower doesn't feel like home and it probably never will but that's fine because he knows where home is. Home is where his friends, his family are. Where Bakugou is. The fit of him against Midoriya's own body is like two puzzle pieces slotting together and tension he didn't realize he was carrying slides out of him. ]

Come on.

[ He leads them into the bedroom with the absurdly huge bed and tugs Bakugou in close by hooking his fingers into the front of his pants. The kiss he leans up for isn't aggressive or hungry, it's slower, sweeter, like he's doing it just because he wants to.

In any other context trying to get Bakugou out of his clothes while kissing would be an event. This time it's about efficiency, unbuttoning his pants, sliding his hands down to press against his hips, up over his belly gently. Later, he's going to relearn the shape of him, he's going to press his lips against every single inch of Bakugou's skin until he's satisfied but now, he wants him out of his clothes and in bed and Midoriya is nothing if not determined. ]

From:

dynamight

[The kiss is exceedingly more electric than the handling of his clothes, the touching of his skin. Those are delicious, too, but the kiss--

It feels as if it's been so long (it sort of has) since they were last able to put their lips together. At first, he's shockingly not so rambunctious, hooks a hand gently under Midoriya's chin at the throat, mostly to keep the mouth where he can reach. Slow, steady, letting Midoriya keep it that way. But the more he kisses, the deeper he makes it. Not so much speed as how starving he is for the kissing itself.

Midoriya peels him out of almost everything, and he focuses on kissing, growling only--softly--when he has to pause to get the shirt up over his head, when he has to pause for the socks. There's no way he could have swollen any bigger, but the fine lines of him seem more cut. No days spent being lazy with Midoriya; the attention had to be funneled to work. The muscles are more defined without being overly hard.

As pale as ever, though, spotted in a handful of places by unraised moles. Not freckled like Midoriya, just a cute drop or so of round melanin--on the arm by a vein, on the hip, on the inner thigh, just off-center of the back, right at the base of the neck on the left, strung between two ribs.

He bends down to hook Midoriya's knees and pull the legs out from under, dump Midoriya on the bed. It's easier to then start trying to return the favor, shedding Midoriya of the clothes so they can be ninety-eight percent skin on skin and maybe twenty percent his unavoidable hard on from enjoying all of this in general.]

From:

pacifisting

[ Kissing is one of Midoriya's favorite things to do. He has a lot of favorites when it comes to Bakugou and maybe he's a little biased because it's been ages since he was able to touch him properly, but kissing is the best. Kissing and stripping Bakugou out of his clothes so they can cuddle in bed is just icing on the cake, really, but then a hand slides to his throat and Bakugou's all hard lines under Midoriya's questing hands. He doesn't bother hiding his quiet laugh at the way Bakugou's shirt pops off of his head, stealing a teasingly quick kiss when it's tossed aside.

Just as he's starting to drink in the sight, open and appreciative, he's tipped back onto the bed with a yelp. Clumsy, less helpful and more hindrance at first until he manages to untangle himself, Midoriya tosses his shirt, kicks his pants so hard they hit the wall and pile but he keeps on his socks and his briefs on. He's hard, because of course he is, straining against his briefs but there's no focus on it right now.

Instead, he's exploring with mouth and fingertips, reacquainting himself with every inch that he can reach. A kiss to the mole on his arm after his fingertips skate over when he's fighting to catch his breath, but more than anything it's like he's checking for scars. Injuries that he was made aware of while he was gone and had no way to check. Once he's satisfied himself, Midoriya strokes a hand up from where it's at Bakugou's hip, tracing up over his belly, chest, throat, ending at his chin to pull him into another kiss.

This time, when he leans back into the plush bed, it's relaxed and both of his hands settle onto Bakugou's shoulders, easing down over his arms, squeezing. It's all one quick rush, Midoriya pressing kisses to Bakugou's mouth in place of periods and commas. ]

I missed you so much. I'm so glad you're here, it felt like I was waiting for ages, it's just a few months but it felt like years, and it's nice, everyone is so nice, and I've learned a lot, but it's not home and no one here is you, Kacchan.

From:

dynamight

[The sporadic kissing he puts up with for longer than normal really. It’s a miracle. He puts up with it right until he gets frustrated because it doesn’t continue like it should.] Shut the fuck up a minute. [So he can again suck the life out of Midoriya through the mouth once he’s settled his wide frame between knees and thighs and over the chest. Give him some time to relish what he hasn’t had in forever.

But he gives Midoriya time to breathe after, time for himself to breathe too. Instead, he runs his lips down Midoriya’s neck, over the collar bone, grazing the flat of his teeth along the swell of one of Midoriya’s pectorals. Biting without grabbing skin. He leans back, leans to one side on an forearm and elbow. He wants to explore Midoriya’s too, almost suspiciously, clinically. Assessing what has changed besides the confidence. He rubs with the damp, calloused palm of his hand, rubs the length of Midoriya’s stocky midsection, the stomach, the scars. Feels the cut of the waist and, heavy-handed, down across the groin, rubs Midoriya through the briefs with no true intent other than mapping, seeing Midoriya’s reaction instead of only hearing it through a phone.

Even if he says nothing, it’s clear he’s missed this. Bending back over, ducking his face into the warm crook of Midoriya’s neck like he knows he is going to get rewarded with fingers in his hair.

There aren’t many scars on him. Healing is easy with available quirks, leaving behind translucent-looking crescents or bands or pockmarks. The one on his hip from before, newer ones along his shoulder, his back, his calf. The things he has trouble guarding when he’s being cocky or taking risks. Nothing Midoriya should have concern for, to linger on when he’s begging for other things.]

You didn’t take One For All on purpose. [His voice is rough but low near Midoriya’s ear.] Why?

From:

pacifisting

Yeah, alright. [ Midoriya's words are soft and distant around the edges, distracted as Bakugou leans in to kiss him within an inch of his life to shut him up. Phone sex was new and fun for a while, the first month maybe, before it started being even more proof that Bakugou wasn't there and this was as close to Bakugou as he could get. Now, it feels a little like there's a clock ticking down, counting down the moments to when Bakugou has to leave again but the bite at his pecs drags him out of his thoughts.

He's in a similar state: there are little ones he's gathered here and there. A knife-wound on his side, a burn spattered across the back of his hand. Nothing worth noting or writing home about especially since the burn was the size of a yen coin. He won't let Mr. Stark put him in armor, but the protection he has now is even better and he's been sending specs back and forth with Mei, who has been taking it well all things considered.

Yanked out of drifting again at Bakugou's hand cupping his dick, skating over it, Midoriya tries to lay there obediently as long as his attention span will allow for it, fingers tracing constellations where the stars are the scars and little points of Bakugou's body he has memorized. A breath slithers out of him, shaky, and he presses his hand into Bakugou's hair right on time. Maybe they'll sleep a little and then they'll go out to eat, do touristy stuff. Maybe they'll just stay in for the night enjoying each other. Maybe -

Maybe none of that, because Bakugou's asking a valid question and Midoriya sinks into the bed, sheepish. He avoids the answer right away, instead tugging the blankets up, trying to pull Bakugou down onto him, combing a hand through his hair. ] Insurance mostly. If something happened to me... well, you're here. You should be the one to have it. You know the story behind it, I knew I could trust you if the worst happened.