pacifisting | dynamight

From:

[One of Bakugou's wide hands settles on Midoriya's thigh by the knee, both out of habit and as a means to keep Midoriya steady in his lap while he's bent over at the shoulders.

Midoriya is too quiet. There's no muttering, but he can tell there's muttering on the inside at best.] Oi. What the hell are you thinking so hard about? [He lifts his head back to peer up, the hand sliding from the knee to the thick of the thigh and squeezing.] Mm?

Gimme another one.

From:

pacifisting

[ You did this to yourself buddy. ]

It's just interesting that this even happens.

[ Midoriya feeds him another piece and hums at the squeeze to his thigh, his free fingers trailing lightly over the skin of his shoulders. It's not enough of a touch to hurt, just a fleeting graze of his fingertips. ]

We know that your hands are able to withstand close-range heat and explosions, even if that is directed externally. But it doesn't apply to the sun, so you still burn.

[ He can guess why, because of the difference between the sun's rays and Bakugou's explosions but it's still interesting to him. ]

Here, open.

[ It'd a distracted order as he lifts another and smooths a kiss over somewhere not too pink. ]

From:

dynamight

Yeah, well, I got fucking skin, dumbass. [This doesn't exactly explain much except he has a dermis organ susceptible to UV rays, but listen.] Besides. That's why I wear fucking gloves.

[Hang on. His lips part and he hungrily accepts the food without biting Midoriya's fingers too much. And he at least doesn't talk with his mouth full.]

I don't blow fucking flames outta my hands, but it still hurts. I just got use to it after doing it for so fucking long. I have to time it right to explode most of the sweat when it's off my hand.

Shouldn't you know all this shit? Don't you got that shitty stalker notebook still?

From:

pacifisting

Really.

[ Borderline Aizawa tone, here, though it quickly fades and he's left with amusement. He knows that it's not flames but the explosions are still large enough sometimes that there would be some heat reflected back at him. Not enough to cause blisters or irritation, most likely but - ]

It's not a stalker notebook, either, Kacchan.

[ Midoriya adjusts himself Bakugou's thigh just a little so he can hook his feet at the stool, leaning into him a little more solidly. He's past the point of defensiveness when Bakugou gives him shit; Midoriya grabs for a hand because he can, and presses his lips against Bakugou's knuckles. ]

...I wonder if Todoroki gets sunburnt, too. Probably?

From:

dynamight

Stalker notebook...

[The tease falls short when he hasn't yet learned how to use a Teasing Voice. His hand kneads Midoriya's thigh up until Midoriya steals it away, and he, naturally, grumbles about it. His fist balls. He punches Midoriya across the cheek and mouth, but it's the slowest, softest punch he's probably ever thrown in Midoriya's direction.] The fuck I care for? [But he actually considers it for a moment.]

Maybe just one half of him burns or some shit. Like the cold side. [Bakugou can't help it. He cracks a shit-eating grin, and then he cackles quietly.] Can you imagine Halfy slapped-ass red all on one side and normal on the other?

He'd look like his hair.

From:

pacifisting

[ Maybe that notebook is filled with doodles of Bakugou and hearts, buddy, you don't know.

The fist comes slow enough to dodge but he doesn't bother, faking an ah as he's hit, only to grab the hand again and press another kiss to his knuckles, laughing. He can absolutely picture it; one half of Todoroki bright red while the other isn't. It's an absurd mental image. ]

Remind me to put something on your shoulders after we're done eating, too, Kacchan. I know it's not too bad right now but sunburns are always worse the second day.

[ HERE EAT MORE FOOD shut up and let him fuss. ]

From:

dynamight

It's fine. I don't need any stu...

[Dammit. He doesn't want to abandon the better sushi he's had since getting here, so he shuts up and opens his mouth for what's given to him. Midoriya's ass is digging into that one thigh; all he can do with his mouth full of grunt.

But he grabs Midoriya by the middle and splits Midoriya's legs with his lap, putting both knees over him and forcing Midoriya to sit facing him with weight balanced. Even for a guy with a meaty back end, Midoriya's tailbone hurts.]

As long as you ain't fucking slapping me across the shoulders. I just need sunscreen.

[His mom would have a duck if she found out he went stomping out like a hardass without putting on anything to protect his skin. Midoriya will probably hear that phone conversation later.]

From:

pacifisting

[ For all that his ass is muscle, he's still bony as hell so the switch being necessary doesn't surprise him but the timing does. Abruptly, he finds himself shifted and a piece of sushi goes to the ground with a wet thud, sushi-side down. It leaves him face to face with Bakugou which isn't a bad thing by any means but the yelp and scramble to adjust on his side aren't exactly smooth, either.

Frowning, he looks over at the piece and figures he'll get it after he gets off since Bakugou seems intent on keeping him here. Maybe he ought to get some grapes and a fan while he's at it. ]

Kacchan, the sushi... [ Wow what an unconvincing argument. Midoriya picks up another more carefully and pops it into his mouth, poking his chest gently. ] Sunscreen doesn't help it now. I think there's lotion in my carry-on.

[ It's not post-sunburn lotion but "sad jerkoff while I'm alone on trips" lotion, but it still works. ]

From:

dynamight

If it had been better sushi, it wouldn't have fucking fell on the floor.

[???

Please get him a fan and some grapes. It'd be perfect. Maybe he could put Midoriya in a Princess Leia slave outfit. It's fine.] I meant sunscreen for next time. I don't need any damn lotion. [He'll be asking for the lotion later after he's forced to sleep on his stomach because his back and shoulders brushing the sheets stings.] Next, you'll be saying we need a damn aloe plant.

[Both hands can now splay out over each of Midoriya's thighs, rubbing up and down as he pleases. God bless hot weather and shorts. His fingers skirt under the ends and rub from knees to thigh tops on the bare, muscled skin. From here, Midoriya's neck looks good enough to bite, and Bakugou considers it.]

From:

pacifisting

Wh- that's not-

[ It takes him a second because he wants to retort and then what Bakugou said hits him and he's left shaking his head. Okay, buddy. Have another piece of sushi carefully carried over so he doesn't drop this one. ]

I don't know if that's a good idea, I've killed the last three plants given to me.

[ NOT INTENTIONALLY but he just is gone for weeks at a time or the plants get too much sun when he's at work for long hours or any other number of issues. Ultimately the end result is he can't keep plants alive despite trying. It'd be easier with a roommate, but -

Hm. Unaware of his boyfriend's internal debate, Midoriya drops both arms around his shoulders and touches their foreheads together while Bakugou's hands smooth over his legs. ]

Kacchan, move in with me, when we get back home.

From:

dynamight

[It's almost comforting being able to idly rub Midoriya's legs back and forth while eating the sushi he had been offered. Not being able to talk while chewing gives him time to think, not that he doesn't already keep his mouth shut most of the time, speaking only when he's got something worth saying.

He swallows, and his eyes lift to meet Midoriya's as the forehead comes down against his own. Something warms him fiercely in his core, and he kind of hates it because he's not use to feeling it very much.] Haah? [He knows what Midoriya said; his voice is airy and under his breath.

He probably can't stop the color trying to climb up his neck into his face, the same shade as the sunburn slapped on his shoulders.]

Your PR manager will have a field day with your ass.

[He didn't say no.]

From:

pacifisting

[ Their noses touch briefly and Midoriya smiles, warm and sappy and intentionally brushes the tips of their noses together because why not. It's silly affection and Bakugou's hands keep trailing up and down his thighs so why not. Admittedly the request isn't...exactly what he'd planned on but they're on vacation together. They're living together here. They're partners in every sense of the word, why not back home, too? ]

...I hope not, the only one allowed to do that is you.

[ The arms around his shoulders slide down just a bit, enough that he can cup the back of Bakugou's neck, the gentle teasing fading into something a little more intense, a little more certain.

That wasn't a no, or a real objection, either. You don't have to decide now, but... well, I'd like it.

From:

dynamight

[Damn... He really wishes Midoriya wouldn't pull this cute shit on him. It makes him soft, and he despises being soft. Then when he's not soft, it just looks like he's an asshole. The heat climbs further into his cheeks, up toward his ears.] Tch. I better fucking be... [His head is gonna pop it's so hot.

Gently, his fingers dig into the top meat of Midoriya's thighs. All he wants to do is eat the lips hovering right above his own, but Midoriya is distracting him with sentimental talk.

And he owes it to Midoriya, he guesses, after pulling that bullshit in New York during sex. It feels like he released a lot of the tension, but then just made things a hella more complicated on top.]

S'that mean you don't give a shit what your fanbase says? That you're living with your rival? Barely anyone else would stand five feet away from my ass much less live in the same house as me. I ain't stupid.

I know people are afraid of me.

From:

pacifisting

[ This is borderline dangerous territory. Not because he thinks Bakugou will take anything the wrong way, but because there's the danger of him saying something and it coming across the utter opposite of how he means. Rather than answer right away, he chews his bottom lip and traces the flush up Bakugou's throat, fingers skimming over the curve of his ears, the sharp lines of his cheeks. ]

...No, I care. I just... [ Midoriya chews on the words a few moments, his mouth opening and then closing like he's not quite sure how he wants to say this. ] My...happiness shouldn't have to be contingent on everyone else's approval. If I really went back to that, I don't think I'd be any better than when I was a kid.

[ When he'd been desperate for Bakugou's approval without the means to get it, when he was striving for anyone's approval in one of the most self-destructive ways - it's taken time for him to shake that and he hasn't fully, but progress is progress. ]

Well, I'm not. No one else would be living with you except me.

From:

dynamight

That's more fucking like it...

[Not that Midoriya doesn't have an overabundance of confidence now. Bakugou just enjoys hearing it. It doesn't matter how much he got off on the fear when they were kids. It's way better when Midoriya has a backbone. Has something to push against him with. Ideals that aren't flimsy dreams but goals.

All Might hadn't been wrong. He gave Midoriya a chance to stand in the ring. Bakugou thanked him for that--way later, in secret where no one could ever hear them.]

I'm not fucking dusting around your dumbass All Might shrine...

[Maybe that's a yes.]

From:

pacifisting

[ It's not a no, but it sounds a hell of a lot like a yes. He hasn't said it, yet so Midoriya takes that for the change of subject that it is and edges himself a little closer. Too close for cute hand-feeding, feet bracketed on the bench to hold himself steady while he leans up and over Bakugou. The hand at his neck shifts, cards through his hair slow but doesn't pull. ]

I handle that anyway. [ Bakugou is one of the few people he'd trust to dust it with any sort of respectfulness and care, though. ] I don't want a live-in maid, Kacchan, I want my boyfriend.

[ Not that there was any doubt, but Midoriya wants to make sure he hears it. He's wanted regardless of what the response is, it just took him a little while to figure it out. ]

...um, but we might want to look into a bigger place. Your collection and mine? [ A LOT OF DUST ]

From:

dynamight

[It wouldn't matter. Any speck of dust seen on any of the All Might merch, and Bakugou would be there with gloves and a duster, getting rid of every molecule while screaming for them to die.]

B... [He stares, and the heat clings to his face without fading. Boyfriend. His mind wasn't to yell, Don't fucking just say it so fucking casually!!! because it's embarrassing, and yet, Midoriya keeps on going, casually.] Listen--shut the fuck up.

Like we're not gonna have a fucking dedicated room for all of that shit anyway. You think I'm some kinda normie? We're getting fucking glass cabinets. Like hell I'm gonna let some bastard dust get on All Might's shit! Go to hell!

From:

pacifisting

[ Yeah, he said the B word. Somehow, it's easier to say after the I love yous and nearly dying together multiple times. Besides, he needs to get used to saying it if they're going to actually go forward with this whole actually together in a public context thing. Midoriya doesn't look cowed in the slightest at Bakugou's response, either, lips twitching up despite himself. ]

...We're both going to have to do a lot of sponsorships if we want a room for all of it. [ It can be their guest bedroom, he supposes. That way, their friends will have somewhere to stay if they need to, since they won't need their own individual rooms.

The hand in Bakugou's hair shifts until one big hand is cupping the back of his head, tilting it just a touch so he can lean in and kiss Bakugou a little more easily, not minding the faint taste of what they were eating. Bakugou's the one who put him here anyway, so he shouldn't be surprised that Midoriya wants to kiss him within an inch of his life given the chance. He's the first to pull back, thumbing over the kissed swell of Bakugou's bottom lip, just looking at him, soft and sappy. It's not the appraising look he gets when he's considering Bakugou's abilities or working things apart in his head, it's just fond. ]

From:

dynamight

I can get as many sponsorships as I need.

[Don't doubt him. He even sounds as insufferably confident as he typically does when talking heroism. The arrogance only dies away when Midoriya leans in to kiss him. It's really not enough. It's not deep enough and not thirsty enough. A taste of something good, but no more.

His growl is throaty and thick and soft. The hands disappear from under the ends of Midoriya's shorts and instead brush under the ends of the shirt near the hips.] Got an eye problem, nerd? [He's looking hungry, and he leans up, though all he can reach with his lips is the apex of Midoriya's neck and collar. He takes what he can get, scraping his teeth.

Nevermind the plates. Bakugou reaches back and shoves them out of the way without destroying everything (amazingly). All of his upper weight pushes on Midoriya, trying to pin him on the empty counter space. One hand doesn't give up its feel of Midoriya's back. The other, however, pushes Midoriya's shirt up far enough to let him get his mouth on Midoriya's chest.

He's wondering when Midoriya will start complaining.]

From:

pacifisting

Mmm, people will be lining up to work with you, Kacchan.

[ It's partially murmured praise, breathed into the line of his throat as he turns his attention there, pressing kisses to his jaw, down to where the cords of his neck stand out when he shifts and shoves the plates back out of the way. Nothing breaks from what Midoriya can tell so it's not worth it to complain that he's made a mess, not when he's tumbled back against the counter. ]

Th-there's still... the food is still out, Kacchan, we should-- [ It's next to impossible to keep any sort of coherency going here when he's got Bakugou's mouth hot and wet against the bare skin of his chest and the threat of teeth always lingering. Shuddering, Midoriya tugs using the hand in Bakugou's hair as a guide and throws his leg around the solid line of his body to anchor himself. ] Kacchaaaan.

[ It isn't a protest, though. Midoriya's laughing as he arches into the ceiling and his toes curl with pleasure. One hand settles itself onto Bakugou's shoulder with the faintest touch and then he pulls back, worried about the sunburn. Better to put his hands at Bakugou's front in turn, he figures, and shoves a hand up the front of Bakugou's shirt in turn. ]

From:

dynamight

Don't give a shit. [What matters most right now is being able to mouth hunks out of Midriya's pliant skin. The best parts are the split down the center where the muscles concave together, the dip just under the swell of a pec.] Quit bitchin' for a minute.

[It probably won't stop the playful complaining, though it may make it more heady--Bakugou tangles the shirt in his fingers and pushes it up more, wrapping his teeth around one of Midoriya's nipples to bite. Not enough for true pain. A worrying stiffness followed up by a heavy few sucks and a soft growl when the hand makes the sunburn smart.

His lips smack when he pulls away.] I'm fucking full, so... it's time for the damn dessert. [He drags his lips again down the center, but stops and lifts his head.]

It was good, I fucking guess.

[A compliment to the chef, and he again returns to exploring the curved slope of Midoriya's front with his mouth, following after with his rough hand.]

From:

pacifisting

[ The hand that's curled in Bakugou's hair goes abruptly tight at the press of teeth against sensitive skin; it doesn't hurt, but the press followed by the hot flicker of his tongue makes Midoriya squrim where he's pinned against the counter, back arching. He yelps when he settles back down; the marble counters are nice, sure, but it's cold against the sensitive skin of his back and an unsteady laugh tumbles out of him. ]

Don't...mm... don't get too heavy with the compliments, Kacchan. [ It's Bakugou; Midoriya's not surprised by it. The hand not fisted in fluffy hair goes to tug at the front of Bakugou's tanktop instead, forced to release as Bakugou goes lower tracing hands and mouth down and leaving him grabbing at the countertop instead.

Somehow, shockingly, he's not protesting the positioning, the location or anything else. Normally he would, but the side effect of all of those teasing moments working Bakugou up is that it also works him up; they've both denied themselves enough over time, so they can have this. ]

I can't - I want to touch you. [ It's not so much a whine as it is a laughed protest, a leg winding around Bakugou's back to keep him from moving too far away. Rather than risk the sunburn, he drops a hand down and cups himself, adjusting his cock in his shorts, rolling his hips up encouragingly. ]

Edited Date: 2019-02-19 11:51 pm (UTC)

From:

dynamight

You're already touching me. [But not in the way Midoriya wants to, he knows. Not in the way he wants Midoriya to be touching him either, except this is about what he's got control over right now.] Just wait your fucking turn.

[He hasn't even made it all the way down yet, not when he's too focused on feeling Midoriya's taut and offering stomach with his lips. Midoriya does get a small, reprimanding bite, and then a tongue of reconciliation.

His thumb shoves the waistband of the bands down, but all that's given to the dip between hip and thigh and lower stomach is hot, panting breath. It's a too long tease. Fortunately, there's a golden reward for the suffering. Thumbing the pants lower, he exposes just the top of Midoriya's cock, and he doesn't wait or pause to smooth the flat, wide top of his tongue over the bottom of the head. Hot and wanting, and a tang of salt.]

Tch. [His eyes roll up to Midoriya's face.] You're already dripping, and I ain't even done shit yet, nerd.

From:

pacifisting

[ There's a garbled noise of protest mixed with resignation as he flops back against the cold counter and lets himself be touched and kissed without being able to do too much back. He can't dig his fingers into Bakugou's shoulders and if he holds onto his tank top too harshly he's going to stretch it out, or worse: rip it.

The counter and Bakugou's hair are the next best, so he holds tight against both of those while Bakugou does his best to take ages to take his pants even the slightest amount off. The chafe of his pants wrings a little groan from him but finally just the tip of him is exposed to the cool air and then Bakugou's tongue drags over it, hot and sharp. It's expected but it's still jarring; Midoriya squirms against the counter and the hand holding it squeezes tight before he forces himself to let go, to breathe. ]

Are you complaining?

[ Midoriya shudders out an incredulous breath and uses the hand in Bakugou's hair to push him down, rolling his hips up so the tip of his cock slides wet over his cheek. His head thunks back against the counter, knowing there's no rush and fighting with that urge because he wants. ]

I've been thinking about this since the hammock.

From:

dynamight

Fuck off.

[Growling low, he reaches up to wipe the sticky slide off is cheek with the back of his hand. He likes the fingers pulling his hair, but despises it being used against him nefariously.] Yeah? Not fucking surprised. Sometimes, you act like a real slut for it. [He's just going to go ahead and bite Midoriya on the dick. It isn't malicious, but firm and reprimanding, teeth clamped onto each side for a second or two.

Satisfied, he leans up and back, the warmth of him vanishing from Midoriya's lower half. He slips one hand under Midoriya's thigh and hooks it below the knee, hiking the leg back and up so he can get the shorts and underwear off together completely. He doesn't worry about the sock, and he doesn't even worry about the other leg either; as long as the shorts are off one, he's good.]

Me, too.

[He has no reservations scooping up and putting the top few inches of Midoriya's cock in his mouth. It's agonizing how he doesn't suck so much as slide it across his tongue and rub it on the inside of his mouth. His teeth just barely scrape the tip when he draws back.] Shut up. [Before Midoriya can even say anything. His voice is thick and rumbling no thanks to the full mouth.]

You want somethin' to touch? You got two fucking hands. [He gives the cock in his fist an encouraging squeeze and then rests the tip teasingly against his lips.] So start touching yourself.