dynamight - part 6

[pacifisting]

TFLN - PT 1 🔥 ☆ TFLN continuation PT 2🔥 ☆ Blowjobs aren't legal at hero galas - PT 3 🔥 ☆ How Much Merchandise Can Midoriya Wear To A Hero Gala - PT 4🔥☆ Whoops Bakugou almost died and Midoriya did something dumb - PT 5🔥 ☆ Midoriya sidekicks with Tony Stark Because Fuck You - PT 6🔥



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[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. ]

[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.]

[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.

[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.]

[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.

[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.

[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.

[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.]

[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 ]

[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!

[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. ]

[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.]

[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. ]

[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.]

[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. ]

[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.

[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.

[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.

[pacifisting]

Are you c-complaining?

[ It never ceases to amaze him just how Bakugou can say those things without any hesitation or concern. It never comes across mean or nasty, at least in Midoriya's mind. If anything, it, just like everything else, is a challenge that he wants to rise to because Bakugou drives that out of him inevitably every single time. It's not like he can argue, either. He is a slut for it when Bakugou's concerned, especially when Bakugou's looking down at him, manhandling him where he wants.

There's an attempt at being helpful when his clothes are being tugged off: a leg kicks and flings them off and across the room to land in a puddle elsewhere and he shoves at the material of his tank top to push it out of the way too. Each press of teeth wrings another garbled string of noises out of him, some of them nearly Bakugou's name before he bites it off, staring at the ceiling as he tries to compose himself. The downside to working both of them up is that all higher function has basically shut down leaving him in the boat of Bakugou talking to him and giving him orders and Midoriya's hands mindlessly going to follow them if it means he keeps going.

A cheek presses against the cold countertop as he drops a hand down to curl around the base of his erection, fisting it in slow, long tugs, dragging the wet tip against Bakugou's lower lip, tugging it away if he tries to sink any further down. ]

Open your mouth up for me, Kacchan. [ A pause, the flush bleeding further down from his cheeks but his face is determined even if his voice is a little shaky. ] You're just as much of a slut for it, aren't you?

[dynamight]

[The annoyed discontent in his throat at having the cock taken when he goes for it melts slowly into something more purringly amused.] Heh. Nice try for a stuttering cock-holder.

Better tell me to suck it please and say thank you after.

[But he opens his mouth and pushes his tongue over the back of his bottom teeth, ducking quick to bowl the head over into his mouth. He latches this time with his lips so it doesn't get away. The sucking is there and voracious for the several inches he lowers down on.

It's not difficult to do it without hands, but it's less entertaining for him, and he gets annoyed just half a minute into it. He pulls back with a pop and a wet mouth, an even huskier voice. His hands shove at Midoriya's.]

Touch something else, idiot. Let me fucking work. [He'll just take the cock back, huffing breath over the wet flesh.] Touch your tits or somethin'. Then when you beg me, I'll touch 'em for you.

[pacifisting]

Kacchan, please, I'd r-really appreciate you sucking my cock.

[ Midoriya makes a strangled noise that could be a laugh, winding a hand in his bangs so he can get a better look at Bakugou's face. He wants to have a solid retort back about Bakugou being the cock-holder given Midoriya's about to feed it into his mouth but then he's ducking back down and all of the words slither out in a shaking moan instead. It's not fair how Bakugou can undo him this easily, but he's not about to argue it, either.

Semi-obediently, both hands slide back and he fumbles with the clinging material of his shirt, shoving it up to his chin. A pause of consideration, then he catches the hem in his teeth and thunks his head back. He feels ridiculous, sliding his hands up his belly and up to his chest, rough fingers skimming over his skin. At first, he thinks that it's going to be more for show than anything else, but when his rough fingers drag over his nipples, another moan ends up hissed out behind teeth clenched around his shirt.

Bakugou's had worse ideas; the rush of hot air over sensitive skin gets another groan and his hips bucking up before he can stop himself, an impatient, demanding mmmm! combined with him lifting his head and giving Bakugou a look. ]

[dynamight]

[His grin is wolfish from around behind Midoriya's cock, teeth and all. He squeezes the base almost like some kind of warning. Maybe a "what are you going to do about it" one.

Then his eyes grow somewhat lidded, face surprisingly dreamy and wanting. He slides the head back through his lips, pushing his fist up to meet them, trying to get his fingers wet so they don't roughly pull the skin on the way back down. He puts more into his mouth, pinning cock between tongue and the roof of his mouth just enough for it to squeeze back and forth through.

His eyes, though, stay locked onto Midoriya above him, watchful. It's dinner and a show, and the only time he vibrates the flesh in his mouth with a hum is when Midoriya is curved on display and enjoying it. The touching is a little for display, sure, but mostly because Bakugou fancies doing it himself.

Until he's finished with what he's working on, he'll just have to fantasize about it being him flicking the hard nipples with the rough of his hand.]

[pacifisting]

[ He can't relax against the counter or where he's balanced, not when Bakugou's got his cock in his mouth like a promise and a threat all at once, toes curling. Gingerly, he braces a foot against the back of Bakugou's chair to hold himself steady and give himself something to push against, the other resting on top of a thigh.

The shirt in his mouth thing seems like it'd be hot, and maybe it is to look at but it proves too inconvenient for more than a moment before he's spitting it back out and shoving it up gracelessly, bracing an elbow onto the counter to give himself a better view of Bakugou's mouth sliding down. The change in expression doesn't go missed, either; Midoriya pinches at his nipples with one hand but the other traces Bakugou's jaw, sliding along to where his lips are parted around it. If Bakugou looks dreamy, Midoriya looks intent, digging his teeth into his bottom lip for a moment before he speaks. ]

You really are the one who's a slut for this. Look at you. [ His breath hitches as he thumbs over a nipple gingerly, hips twisting underneath Bakugou before he forces himself to settle, shivering. Penis just isn't sexy, so he tables that word forever and pushes up, fucking into his mouth gently to encourage him. ] My dick in your mouth is all you wanted, isn't it, Katsuki.

[dynamight]

[The vibration around the cock is a throat growl, though he is too busy to clarify whether it's in relation to being called a slut or being told what he's wanted is his mouth full of Midoriya.

But it's fine. Instead, he punishes Midoriya by taking his mouth away with no less than a wet suck on the end. He twists his fist around the girth of it, and when his palm is wet enough, he starts pumping with a quick, intense speed. A tease, but a threat. Purposefully not taking it slow like he plans to get Midoriya to finish in the next few minutes rather than drag it out like intended.]

Don't bullshit me. [His free hand smooths up over Midoriya's skin from groin to right below the top of the chest. His eyes are as hungry as the wet gleam to his mouth.] I can get your dick anytime I want.

[He stops teasing--sort of. The cock goes back in his mouth, pushed as far back toward his throat as possible without gagging him. The rough fingers stretched up brush back and forth over one of Midoriya's pecks, followed by a thumb to rub the nipple.]

[pacifisting]

[ Of course mouthing off just gets Bakugou drawing back, jerking him instead of going back down on him. Midoriya knew that was the most likely option the moment he started pushing it, but he also can't stop himself. He goes back against the counter with a hissed breath escaping between his clenched teeth, tossing arm over his eyes as he squeezes them shut.

It's one thing to go through training to resist quirks, or to spar, or to build up a tolerance to certain things. It's something else entirely when Bakugou's jerking him off like he's going to wring the orgasm out of him sooner rather than later because there's not any training in the world he can think of to make him strong enough to resist the one-two punch of his mouth and the tight grip of his hand. ]

Yes. Yes, yeah. [ He's not going to argue that because it is true. Midoriya doesn't have it in him to say no if Bakugou propositions him but he also wouldn't ever want to say no. His whole body shudders when Bakugou slides back down, fingers rubbing over his nipple as his mouth eases over and while he's careful not to force him down, he can't help but touch. His hand curls back into Bakugou's hair and his hips flex, just a touch to push up into his mouth with a trembling groan of his name, thighs tight. ]