[ For all the emphasis, he doesn't sound too sorry. Midoriya gingerly slides back until he's leaning against Bakugou's thighs as instructed and tries to shove down any lingering feelings of ridiculous shyness at being bare, at Bakugou having a full view of him like this, cock softening, the flush on his cheeks slowly bleeding away. There's no need to be embarrassed when he's going to see just as much as Bakugou as the other can see of him but he's still a little self-conscious, squirming.
Any chance of that flush on his cheeks fading goes straight out the window a moment later; Train you to come when I tell you Bakugou suggest and Midoriya shivers at how good that sounds.
Later. Right now, he owes Bakugou an orgasm and that's fully what he intends to do. Gently, he winds a hand around Bakugou's cock, but doesn't tighten it, doesn't do anything more than touch like he's exploring it. He looks down for it, watching the way Bakugou's cock slips through his hand, the flushed head between his fingers. His thumb strokes over it, grazes the underside and smooths down a few times, testing to see what sort of pressure he reacts the most to.
It's better he came first, really; at least this way he can dedicate himself to it without being entirely distracted. His cock might be getting hard again (a side effect of the stamina ability that comes with his quirk, he thinks but he also isn't about to ask All Might about that) but it's something easier to ignore when he's got Bakugou spread out underneath him like a buffet.
WIth the hand no longer in Bakugou's hair, Midoriya traces down over his jaw, the marks he's left on his throat and skims further, flattening over his pecs, pinching delicately at a nipple while he jerks him off almost contemplatively. He does look at Bakugou when he does it, eyes wandering from the mess of his come on Bakugou's belly to the flush of his chin up to his eyes. Midoriya smiles lopsidedly, tightening his hand just a little around his dick as he jerks, the slick noise filthy in the quiet of the room.
His former bravado is mostly gone; now he's too focused on making sure he catalogs every single response that he wrings out of Bakugou, testing and adjusting, brows furrowed as he drinks in the reactions.]
[Whatever he’s thinking about as Midoriya works the girth of his cock is probably nothing short of abhorrently lewd. Things carnally hungry. Things they aren’t and have never done, but things he can fantasize to himself in case the day comes when it’s laid out before him. Filling Midoriya’s mouth with himself and hearing Midoriya hum around it for more. Having Midoriya swallow him from behind and arch from shoulder to hip under his hands. Maybe alone and out of sight. Maybe only hidden, rubbing together, hard and desperate, when classmates could walk by without a thought.
Dangerous thoughts for him right now.
He throbs in Midoriya’s palm, and his thighs quiver down to the knees. The red warmth on his lighter skin grows darker at the neck and face. He can’t not sweat, not when he’s conditioned his body for it, and sweet caramel rolls off him when he shifts, arches under the exploring hand, greedy for it.]
I’m not... a fucking... book to read... nerd.
[He can tell, halfway in his feverish desire. Midoriya’s examining him, learning him not unlike the first time they fought in the corridor. A focus should be there, he knows, dammit. An intense and stormy gaze, piercing Midoriya like he could slit the other boy’s throat. But it’s missing here. Instead, his lips are parted, breath ragged, eyes almost closed. Near the head of his cock, Midoriya’s calloused hand draws out a thick, throaty moan. His hips pump quicker, and he gives in to the rising chaos of heat growing in his groin.] Fffuck...
Nex...t... time... I’m using... your damn—
[His breath hitched. He moans unexpectedly, not loud, but sincere, ending in a grinding hiss. Cum takes its first shot up high on his chest, catching low on his neck and on his pectorals. The rest is a spill of heavy white liquid out over Midoriya’s fingers, down over the light fuzzy skin below his navel.] Shit... [He keeps pumping himself in the fist, another small ooze of white, his pace slowing pleasantly.] Shit... [He stares down like he isn’t sure what happened. KatsukiBakugou.exe has stopped working and needs to close.
And then his head falls back, chest rising and falling to steady his breathing.]
[ Is this what Bakugou's room smells like? Is this what his sheets smell like? Midoriya can't imagine, it's so delicious he can't get over it. It'd smell like caramel all the time and already he knows that the next time he smells anything remotely this sweet he's going to be thinking of Bakugou again like some sort of Pavlovian response. ]
So, Kacchan?
[ Are you complaining goes unsaid because he doesn't think that Bakugou has any room to, but the banter is its own sort of relief; they're still the same people and Bakugou's not going to change just because they had sex, he hopes. Next time. He's still just as greedy this time, drinking everything in from Bakugou's expression to the way his body reacts this pressure, or that. He wants to use his mouth more than he has, wants to dip his hand down further and cup his balls, wants wants wants but then Bakugou's coming on himself in messy spurts and Midoriya is wholly consumed with watching and memorizing it.
Perhaps the most distracting part is where Bakugou strokes himself until it's over, the last few messy splashes as he works his orgasm out. Midoriya doesn't move past his clean hand trailing up and down Bakugou's side and his messy one palming over Bakugou's spent cock idly but after a moment of that he's shifting, digging in a drawer for tissues and gently starting to clean up the mess. ]
[All of his muscles are goo, and he hums hoarse and low in the back of his throat when the hand moves against him by pulling away. Bakugou doesn't lift his head, doesn't even move until Midoriya turns and starts rummaging through a drawer.
Slowly, his wild, spiked head lifts, and he raises himself up onto his elbow. There's a good hunk of lax, easy after pleasure all over him, but he still gets a somewhat sour expression as he watches Midoriya clean up.]
So fucking what? [Reaching out suddenly, he grabs one of Midoriya's wrists and holds the arm frozen. His eyes are hard in a challenging way, like he's begging Midoriya to give him a reason to get rowdy.] Clean it off with your tongue.
Next time, I'm gonna come on you, and you're gonna wear it.
[ He can't stop himself from repeating it incredulously, fingers pausing where they're wiping down a splash of it. It's strange to realize that once, he would have cowered at Bakugou grabbing him and saying those words. His stomach would have twisted in knots and he would have had to debate how much he was willing to do.
Now, his stomach goes hot just like the rest of him, the twist arousal not anger or fear. It's a challenge like Bakugou doesn't think he's going to do it, but he's absolutely wrong if that's the case. He's thought about going down on Bakugou too many times to not have accepted that he'll probably get come in his mouth, effectively as a goal at this point. Once the worst of it is cleaned save for the strips on Bakugou's belly and higher, he balls the tissue up and tosses it into the trash on his way down to lick a line clean. It's not great, but it's Bakugou and that alone makes it hotter than anything else, nevermind the running commentary on what Bakugou's going to do to him next time. Next time.
It feels like he's trying to fluster him and Midoriya refuses to back down; another long lick and then he pulls off, eyes fixed on Bakugou's. ]
You're going to kiss me again when I'm done doing this.
[The fingers of one hand smooth gently around the curve of Midoriya's neck at the hairline. They curl into the hair, tender at first, and then they grip it firmly without tearing or yanking.]
Better finish then.
[Carefully, he maneuvers Midoriya's head, pushing it toward the faint lines of splatter up the top of his ribs and over the swell of his breast, pausing only to let Midoriya lap it, and then he continues, onward to the bottom of the neck.
It's actually not such a good thing. The thrill it gives him makes him half hard all over again, and he's aching from being simultaneously spent and horny by the time Midoriya gets to him.]
[ Midoriya mutters it after a lick up over Bakugou's abs, but there's no anger or heat to his words. For a few moments, he lets himself be guided by a hand in his hair, licking up where he's instructed to. A few spots, he bites when he's one: the meat of his chest, the base of his throat. Midoriya knows he's got scratches on his skin from where Bakugou's pawed at him; he can feel them when the sheets or a hand slide over.
He takes a few moments to weigh what he wants to say, bracing himself above again so he can lean over Bakugou properly. His cheeks go hot, but actually considering the words gives him some sort of steadiness through the minor embarrassment. ]
Give me a kiss and I'll tell you how good it was.
[ Midoriya leans over him, red to the tips of his ears. ]
Midoriya gets a hot, irritable glance up with a pair of red eyes. It's clear Bakugou wants to have the last word, wants Midoriya to answer his question, but he also wants to eat Midoriya's stupid mouth.]
I'm gonna fucking kill you.
[He can absolutely tell this is a reversal, and he's helpless when it comes to standing his ground. The greedy ego wins out in the end. He wants the domination of the kiss more than he wants to hear Midoriya answer him first.
The fingers pull Midoriya's head down, and he tips his up. The lip meeting is slow and casual, like it may be a rather chast kiss, but as soon as they touch, Bakugou immediately begins to hungrily make out.]
[ He hides how pleased he is, barely. It's not a competition (but if it were, he would have won, which is a non-helpful thought) and they technically both win because Bakugou's tugging him into a kiss. Midoriya melts into it, going to his elbows above Bakugou just so he can push his hands through his hair, tightening them when Bakugou turns the kiss into something hungrier.
Kissing Bakugou is something could do for forever if he were allowed. There's still a thousand things that he needs to worry about, is going to worry about but just like when they fight, he gets distracted with his need to do something as best as humanly possible.
Settling himself heavier on top of Bakugou, he pulls back for a breath and trails lazy kisses down the sharp line of his jaw, lingering on the purpling mark on his throat, pleased. There's still a question he wants an answer to, though he doesn't come right out with it yet, occupying himself with the curve of Bakugou's throat. When it comes, it's quiet. ]
[His hands relinquish Midoriya's face, but they don't relinquish Midoriya in general. The other boy receives a firm, almost greedy hold under the arms and over the shoulders, the softly biting crescent of nails and all.]
Whatever I can fucking get.
[At first, it sounds like a cop-out. Like a "you're the bottom of the barrel, so whatever," but with closer inspection, with a Midoriya kind of understanding, it's clear he's rather sincere in the bluntness of what he says. The way it's delivered. The lack of underlying rage and bitterness.
Whatever Midoriya is willing to bring to the middle, to the agreement of this, he'll take it. Meeting again. Meeting in secret. Meeting in public. Maybe not exactly public at first, maybe not telling everyone else yet. The official B-word. It'll take a little time.
[ At first it sounds dismissive, but what's worse is when he starts thinking about it Midoriya realizes it's not. Whatever I can fucking get, like he's going to be happy with whatever Midoriya gives him and somehow that's enough. Instead of being insulting, Midoriya's heart aches. Is it because he thinks he won't get anything he wants so he may as well not ask for it? Or does he not care? His mind goes over a thousand different options but this is a conversation, which means he needs to answer.
Sliding off to the side so he doesn't squish Bakugou with his full weight but still allowing for the arms around him, holding him, Midoriya hooks his chin over Bakugou's shoulder and runs a hand up and down his belly, petting him not unlike a large cat. ]
Alright. Come get breakfast with All Might and I next week, then.
[ He's not foolish enough to think that agreeing is a marriage proposal or anything; there's a very real chance that whatever shape this takes, it will change or they'll move on from each other as they get older. It's wise to be realistic, pragmatic about these things, but also, he has more freedom now than he did before to introduce Bakugou to these kinds of things. It's not a date, but the dating process is usually to figure out if you like someone. He already knows he does, and it's not like Bakugou doesn't know his mom so there's no worry about some meet the parents talk. ]
[Quickly, his face falls. It could be because Midoriya rolled off him, or it could be because of the conditions he's being given. Maybe both. Maybe neither. He could just be falling back into being mostly angry and disagreeable--as usual.] Tch.
Are you fuckin' kidding me? [He doesn't sit up or roll over, but he does turn his head in the opposite direction and look away. Enough time to sort out whether he wants to scowl or have his face be soft at the prospect.] I didn't have All Might's dick in my goddamn hand.
Why do I fucking have to eat breakfast with him with you?
[Maybe he's scared. All Might is the pinnacle he's trying to reach. No, trying to surpass. It's easy now to race by the husk of the former man, but the legacy left behind is what he has to do right by. What he has to beat.
And he can't do that if he's having to look All Might in the face while Midoriya says some loser nerdy shit, like, ah yes, they're kind of dating; or worse, they fooled around--not that he knows Midoriya would ever utter that to All Might--or even more horrendous: they might have become friends, but better.]
[ Midoriya sputters a laugh at the idea of it, squeezing Bakugou's hip lightly. Yeah, that's true, he didn't have All Might's dick in his hand, but that's also a series of words he never wanted to hear Bakugou utter because it's weird. ]
Because that's when we generally get breakfast. You could eat lunch with us if you wanted, instead.
[ He's breezing right by what is probably the actual issue because in his mind it's not an issue. They've both wanted to be like All Might since they were kids; Midoriya knows that he's obscenely lucky to be as close to him as he is, but Bakugou knows too. Involving him isn't a necessity, nor is it pity but he's not sure how to make that clear.
Midoriya's hand splays over Bakugou's belly, tracing up as he considers everything. Maybe positioning it a different way... ]
You want to surpass him, and me, right? I get good advice from him when we eat together so it's only fair.
He whips his head back around, angry, but it falters only slightly when he's met with something jovial instead of something taunting. When he's met with logical words, ones that speak to him in the pit of his determined, goal-driven soul.
Gritting his teeth, he turns his head back around again, grumping for a short few moments, trying to decide whether he wants to accept or reject the offer. It's Midoriya, but it's also All Might, and Midoriya isn't wrong about his wants.
When he looks back, his head turns slow and unsure. His face scowls faintly.] Why does it fucking matter so much to you? [It's still not given in quite the right way. It's an offer, a sweet one.
But he sees it more as pity, yeah, even if it isn't. He sees himself as a third wheel, like this is all obligatory, like he knows his personality is abrasive and no one wants him there anyway. A formality.]
I didn't do this to get your All Might handouts, Deku. I can do it on my damn own. I'm gonna leave you in the goddamn dust, and I don't need your help learning what All Might knows to do it.
[ He knew it. Midoriya should have known better than to laugh but he forgets sometimes that he's dealing with Bakugou and things can go south if he isn't careful. The smile fades, and Midoriya pushes himself up on one arm as much as he's able if Bakugou is still holding him. ]
Why does winning fairly matter so much to you? It's not worth it if you know you didn't do everything in your power to win, right? It's not fun if you know the others you're fighting against aren't at what their best could be.
[ He wouldn't have considered it until Bakugou, really, and that's the real shame of it. They're lucky enough to have him as a teacher; Midoriya can't just invite everyone to lunch with All Might, but Bakugou isn't everyone else. He's never been anyone else but uniquely himself, and while it's sometimes to a fault, he is growing. Maybe that's not all he's concerned about, though. ]
I want this to be fair, too. I won't...mention any of this, if that's what you're worried about.
[ Uraraka wouldn't tell everyone what she saw, but Midoriya knows between the three of them he's the weakest link here, shit at keeping secrets. ]
[It's true. The core of him--it isn't simply about winning, though winning is the thrill. It's about the fight. It's about it all being fair, and it's about proving to himself he can overcome the odds handed to him regardless of the stagger in strength.
It's about Shouto Todoroki using the whole quirk, making him work for it, making him earn it so he can boast he succeeded against a capable opponent. It's about Izuku Midoriya not holding back just because they're "friends", just because he's hurting, but showing him there's a reason All Might saw something in the scrawny good-for-nothing quirkless bastard to hand down one of the greatest gifts in the world.
His hand snaps, grabs Midoriya's wrist, the one belonging to the hand stroking the rigid line of his abs and stomach, and it squeezes, but doesn't yank. Instead, he quickly rolls himself over on top of Midoriya from the side, hides his face in the scoop of Midoriya's gently bruised neck.
Bared and gritted teeth brush the skin, though there's no rowdy, horny biting, no playful nips. It's pure frustrating, at himself, something that sits like hard iron in his chest and pains him. He pushes his face into Midoriya further, bunches the sheets when he fists his hands into them at Midoriya's shoulders, head.]
He doesn't give a shit about me like he does you, dumbass. There's no fucking point. You'll just...
You'll just end up like him... I won't even get the fucking satisfaction of you being in second. You'll just end up like him... trying some bullshit because of me...
[ Midoriya stills when the hand grabs his wrist, not quite certain where this is going. This isn't a sexy conversation or one that they're having leading up to fooling around some more. It's a conversation that's turning into one he desperately wishes he had pants for because being naked for it feels...weird.
He lets himself get rolled, but instead of Bakugou trying anything, he simply mashes his face into the side of his throat, exhaling warm, humid air there. There's the threat of teeth but he seems...upset, more than aroused. Not for the first time he wishes there were some sort of Bakugou cheatsheet.
Lightly, he tugs the sheets up around their waist and mirrors Bakugou's earlier move to put an arm around his shoulders. If his sheets get exploded in the process, that's fine, he can always buy more. He's far more concerned with Bakugou, winding a hand into his hair, stroking through it with steady, slow pulls. ]
He doesn't know you like he knows me. I didn't give him much of a chance to say no. [ There's a bit of wryness to his voice as he admits it, hand smoothing down, gripping the nape of Bakugou's neck to squeeze, bordering on a massage. So many of their disagreements are because of moments like this; where it sounds like Bakugou's upset over losing when it's that he's concerned or worried or any other countless number of emotions he doesn't seem to know how to process. Sighing, Midoriya holds him tighter, squeezing. It's a valid concern; Midoriya knows that he's been injured too much to deny it.] Maybe, but I don't think it's likely. I have all of you here too. Things are so...different from how they were. And we still have to worry about All for One, but we know more, we can prepare...
[There's no concern he's acting a little childish. He doesn't lift his head out of Midoriya's neck. The brush of his light lashes comes once, downward, and then they don't lick the skin anymore. The shift of his brows--it's obvious he's squeezing his eyes shut.
But the hand helps, the one tingling his scalp and kneading his neck. He hikes his shoulders faintly up, but doesn't shake it off. The arms, the biceps quiver with frustration for a few minutes before, slowly, relaxing.]
Preparing don't mean shit, Deku. Not when you keep breaking everything trying to be stubborn. Not with All Might... [He can't even say it, damn. Retired. Gone. He's still so very inwardly bitter about being caught in the first place.
Doubling back means protecting Midoriya with a fierce tenacity.] Don't think... [Finally, he lifts his head back, reaches up to grab Midoriya by the throat under the jaws.] ...you can't just fucking kiss me back and then go out and do some idiot bullshit and come back with everything broken. Smiling like a goddamn moron.
You either get strong enough it doesn't happen, or I blow your face off and save me the trouble.
[ Midoriya's voice is low and warm, pressed into the wild tangle of Bakugou's hair. There's a part of him that can't believe they're here, that he misunderstood Bakugou for so long but it only makes him all the more certain that he's going to do this right. He's going to do right by Bakugou in whatever way he can. ]
I know.
[ The retirement of All Might may have hit Bakugou harder than All Might, really. He hadn't considered that, but looking back... Midoriya aches. He tilts his head to bare his throat, the weight of Bakugou's hand not a threat but comforting, strangely. His hand squeezes the nape of his neck again, dragging down until he can press into the muscle of his shoulders. ]
I'll do my best as long as you do, too, okay, Kacchan? I promise.
[The turn around surprises him. For some reason, he always expects Midoriya to be suddenly more like him, and that's never how it is at all. He hates it. He hates the support, the sympathy.
Because he never thinks to show it.
His fingers squeeze Midoriya's throat for the briefest of seconds before loosening, sliding away to the side, and his face drops down in the dip above a bare clavicle, the base of the neck.] You're... a stupid... piece of shit, Deku. [His head stays down for a bit, letting Midoriya's hand knead him, letting himself be bathed in the clean scent of naked and hot skin.
And then he pulls up and away fully, out of Midoriya's hand and arm, throwing off the sheet and turning around to sit on the edge of the bed. His head moves quick, but his eyes are ringed red, no tears, his cheeks and the tops of his ears likewise flushed with emotion.
He lets his arms drape over his thighs, his shoulders slump forward. He hadn't blasted the entirely of the underwear away, but most of it, and he feels a little bad, but doesn't apologize for the scrap left under his feet or the smear of grey ash on his hips and legs.]
[ The uncertainty of this makes this difficult; is Bakugou going to stay, is he going to lay down with Midoriya for a while or are they going to go out and brave the rest of their friends and act as if nothing happened? The insult isn't one he rises to retort against. There's a low noise of acknowledgment and then Bakugou's sitting up, sitting on the edge of the bed like he's debating leaving.
Gingerly, Midoriya strokes a hand down the line of his spine, stopping at the small of his back. Too much physical affection might be a problem so he's careful not to come too close, rolling onto his side, a pillow gathered in his arms to rest his cheek on. ]
Eight or nine, usually, if nothing comes up.
[ It's usually All Might's schedule interfering since Midoriya doesn't have work just yet, but lately the internships and other partnerships have taken up some time he wasn't expecting. It's good, he likes doing it but Bakugou's worries aren't unfounded. ]
[A few of the muscles of Bakugou's back shifts under the fleeting fingers feeling the ridges of his spine. The point is he doesn't slap the hand away or get off the bed to dodge it.
He's not unlike a finicky cat; Midoriya's careful and light petting is wanted enough without being overbearing and confining. He feels like the one in control; he can come and go if he wants, he can stop it or beg for more if he wants.]
Text me. [Added, muttering:] Doesn't mean I'm fucking coming. Just means I'll think about it.
[ It's not unlike dealing with the cats that linger in the alley near where his mom lives. Some of them come right up and love attention. Others took weeks to get the trust of, weeks of sitting still and letting them come close, feeding them bits and pieces and not overwhelming them with affection.
Smothering his yawn into the pillow, Midoriya stretches once, groaning happily and then slowly makes his way out of bed. He's still a mess and desperately needs a shower but he slides on a fresh pair of boxers and then a clean pair of sweats, gathering up his discarded clothes to put into the washer later. ]
I'll let you know when and where and if you can make it, we'd love to see you. If not, I understand.
[ He wants a bath, everything a little sticky and he cracks a window so the room doesn't smell like sex, sweat and sugar. He's not sure of the state of Bakugou's clothes, so:]
[Even though his everything stays slouched, his red eyes lift to follow Midoriya around without flickering away.] I don't want your dumbass clothes. [To which the eyes jump to the rest of the room.
And at the All Might memorabilia. As if he assumes whatever Midoriya would give him, regardless of how normal Midoriya has been dressed, would be crazily blinged out with All Might deco. Is he wrong? Listen. He needs to secretly love All Might very much.
Give him an All Might t-shirt, though.
Sliding off the bed, it's almost begrudgingly how he steps into his pants and underwear and yanks them back up simultaneously over his thighs and over his waist. Midoriya was almost right earlier: boxer-briefs, best of both worlds. Makes him streamlined but gives room. He digs around the bed for his black shirt.]
[ Midoriya rolls his eyes, unconcerned. Bakugou probably doesn't care about wearing dirty clothes and he's right about one thing: most of what Midoriya has for sleep clothes is hero themed with All Might being the most prevalent. He tugs on the hoodie from earlier, all garish yellow, and goes hunting for the black shirt. When it's found, he slings it at Bakugou with a lopsided little smile. ]
What are you gonna do when you become a hero with merchandise and I start wearing it, too?
[ He's mostly joking, but oh, oh it's real. He'll be able to do that. He can roll up to a press conference in a horrific orange hoodie and the idea rules honestly.]
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2018-11-11 10:12 pm (UTC)[ For all the emphasis, he doesn't sound too sorry. Midoriya gingerly slides back until he's leaning against Bakugou's thighs as instructed and tries to shove down any lingering feelings of ridiculous shyness at being bare, at Bakugou having a full view of him like this, cock softening, the flush on his cheeks slowly bleeding away. There's no need to be embarrassed when he's going to see just as much as Bakugou as the other can see of him but he's still a little self-conscious, squirming.
Any chance of that flush on his cheeks fading goes straight out the window a moment later; Train you to come when I tell you Bakugou suggest and Midoriya shivers at how good that sounds.
Later. Right now, he owes Bakugou an orgasm and that's fully what he intends to do. Gently, he winds a hand around Bakugou's cock, but doesn't tighten it, doesn't do anything more than touch like he's exploring it. He looks down for it, watching the way Bakugou's cock slips through his hand, the flushed head between his fingers. His thumb strokes over it, grazes the underside and smooths down a few times, testing to see what sort of pressure he reacts the most to.
It's better he came first, really; at least this way he can dedicate himself to it without being entirely distracted. His cock might be getting hard again (a side effect of the stamina ability that comes with his quirk, he thinks but he also isn't about to ask All Might about that) but it's something easier to ignore when he's got Bakugou spread out underneath him like a buffet.
WIth the hand no longer in Bakugou's hair, Midoriya traces down over his jaw, the marks he's left on his throat and skims further, flattening over his pecs, pinching delicately at a nipple while he jerks him off almost contemplatively. He does look at Bakugou when he does it, eyes wandering from the mess of his come on Bakugou's belly to the flush of his chin up to his eyes. Midoriya smiles lopsidedly, tightening his hand just a little around his dick as he jerks, the slick noise filthy in the quiet of the room.
His former bravado is mostly gone; now he's too focused on making sure he catalogs every single response that he wrings out of Bakugou, testing and adjusting, brows furrowed as he drinks in the reactions.]
no subject
Date: 2018-11-11 11:05 pm (UTC)Dangerous thoughts for him right now.
He throbs in Midoriya’s palm, and his thighs quiver down to the knees. The red warmth on his lighter skin grows darker at the neck and face. He can’t not sweat, not when he’s conditioned his body for it, and sweet caramel rolls off him when he shifts, arches under the exploring hand, greedy for it.]
I’m not... a fucking... book to read... nerd.
[He can tell, halfway in his feverish desire. Midoriya’s examining him, learning him not unlike the first time they fought in the corridor. A focus should be there, he knows, dammit. An intense and stormy gaze, piercing Midoriya like he could slit the other boy’s throat. But it’s missing here. Instead, his lips are parted, breath ragged, eyes almost closed. Near the head of his cock, Midoriya’s calloused hand draws out a thick, throaty moan. His hips pump quicker, and he gives in to the rising chaos of heat growing in his groin.] Fffuck...
Nex...t... time... I’m using... your damn—
[His breath hitched. He moans unexpectedly, not loud, but sincere, ending in a grinding hiss. Cum takes its first shot up high on his chest, catching low on his neck and on his pectorals. The rest is a spill of heavy white liquid out over Midoriya’s fingers, down over the light fuzzy skin below his navel.] Shit... [He keeps pumping himself in the fist, another small ooze of white, his pace slowing pleasantly.] Shit... [He stares down like he isn’t sure what happened. KatsukiBakugou.exe has stopped working and needs to close.
And then his head falls back, chest rising and falling to steady his breathing.]
sry i laid down for "ten minutes" with my cats aka like a 2 hour coma nap and it ruled
Date: 2018-11-12 12:36 am (UTC)So, Kacchan?
[ Are you complaining goes unsaid because he doesn't think that Bakugou has any room to, but the banter is its own sort of relief; they're still the same people and Bakugou's not going to change just because they had sex, he hopes. Next time. He's still just as greedy this time, drinking everything in from Bakugou's expression to the way his body reacts this pressure, or that. He wants to use his mouth more than he has, wants to dip his hand down further and cup his balls, wants wants wants but then Bakugou's coming on himself in messy spurts and Midoriya is wholly consumed with watching and memorizing it.
Perhaps the most distracting part is where Bakugou strokes himself until it's over, the last few messy splashes as he works his orgasm out. Midoriya doesn't move past his clean hand trailing up and down Bakugou's side and his messy one palming over Bakugou's spent cock idly but after a moment of that he's shifting, digging in a drawer for tissues and gently starting to clean up the mess. ]
omg that is amazing. a blessed sleep coma.
Date: 2018-11-12 02:47 am (UTC)Slowly, his wild, spiked head lifts, and he raises himself up onto his elbow. There's a good hunk of lax, easy after pleasure all over him, but he still gets a somewhat sour expression as he watches Midoriya clean up.]
So fucking what? [Reaching out suddenly, he grabs one of Midoriya's wrists and holds the arm frozen. His eyes are hard in a challenging way, like he's begging Midoriya to give him a reason to get rowdy.] Clean it off with your tongue.
Next time, I'm gonna come on you, and you're gonna wear it.
IT WAS SO GOOD
Date: 2018-11-12 03:05 am (UTC)[ He can't stop himself from repeating it incredulously, fingers pausing where they're wiping down a splash of it. It's strange to realize that once, he would have cowered at Bakugou grabbing him and saying those words. His stomach would have twisted in knots and he would have had to debate how much he was willing to do.
Now, his stomach goes hot just like the rest of him, the twist arousal not anger or fear. It's a challenge like Bakugou doesn't think he's going to do it, but he's absolutely wrong if that's the case. He's thought about going down on Bakugou too many times to not have accepted that he'll probably get come in his mouth, effectively as a goal at this point. Once the worst of it is cleaned save for the strips on Bakugou's belly and higher, he balls the tissue up and tosses it into the trash on his way down to lick a line clean. It's not great, but it's Bakugou and that alone makes it hotter than anything else, nevermind the running commentary on what Bakugou's going to do to him next time. Next time.
It feels like he's trying to fluster him and Midoriya refuses to back down; another long lick and then he pulls off, eyes fixed on Bakugou's. ]
You're going to kiss me again when I'm done doing this.
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Date: 2018-11-12 03:27 am (UTC)[The fingers of one hand smooth gently around the curve of Midoriya's neck at the hairline. They curl into the hair, tender at first, and then they grip it firmly without tearing or yanking.]
Better finish then.
[Carefully, he maneuvers Midoriya's head, pushing it toward the faint lines of splatter up the top of his ribs and over the swell of his breast, pausing only to let Midoriya lap it, and then he continues, onward to the bottom of the neck.
It's actually not such a good thing. The thrill it gives him makes him half hard all over again, and he's aching from being simultaneously spent and horny by the time Midoriya gets to him.]
I'll reward you if you tell me how good it was.
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Date: 2018-11-12 03:44 am (UTC)[ Midoriya mutters it after a lick up over Bakugou's abs, but there's no anger or heat to his words. For a few moments, he lets himself be guided by a hand in his hair, licking up where he's instructed to. A few spots, he bites when he's one: the meat of his chest, the base of his throat. Midoriya knows he's got scratches on his skin from where Bakugou's pawed at him; he can feel them when the sheets or a hand slide over.
He takes a few moments to weigh what he wants to say, bracing himself above again so he can lean over Bakugou properly. His cheeks go hot, but actually considering the words gives him some sort of steadiness through the minor embarrassment. ]
Give me a kiss and I'll tell you how good it was.
[ Midoriya leans over him, red to the tips of his ears. ]
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Date: 2018-11-12 04:09 am (UTC)Midoriya gets a hot, irritable glance up with a pair of red eyes. It's clear Bakugou wants to have the last word, wants Midoriya to answer his question, but he also wants to eat Midoriya's stupid mouth.]
I'm gonna fucking kill you.
[He can absolutely tell this is a reversal, and he's helpless when it comes to standing his ground. The greedy ego wins out in the end. He wants the domination of the kiss more than he wants to hear Midoriya answer him first.
The fingers pull Midoriya's head down, and he tips his up. The lip meeting is slow and casual, like it may be a rather chast kiss, but as soon as they touch, Bakugou immediately begins to hungrily make out.]
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Date: 2018-11-12 07:03 pm (UTC)Kissing Bakugou is something could do for forever if he were allowed. There's still a thousand things that he needs to worry about, is going to worry about but just like when they fight, he gets distracted with his need to do something as best as humanly possible.
Settling himself heavier on top of Bakugou, he pulls back for a breath and trails lazy kisses down the sharp line of his jaw, lingering on the purpling mark on his throat, pleased. There's still a question he wants an answer to, though he doesn't come right out with it yet, occupying himself with the curve of Bakugou's throat. When it comes, it's quiet. ]
What do you want out of this, Kacchan?
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Date: 2018-11-13 04:41 am (UTC)Whatever I can fucking get.
[At first, it sounds like a cop-out. Like a "you're the bottom of the barrel, so whatever," but with closer inspection, with a Midoriya kind of understanding, it's clear he's rather sincere in the bluntness of what he says. The way it's delivered. The lack of underlying rage and bitterness.
Whatever Midoriya is willing to bring to the middle, to the agreement of this, he'll take it. Meeting again. Meeting in secret. Meeting in public. Maybe not exactly public at first, maybe not telling everyone else yet. The official B-word. It'll take a little time.
But he's got enough determination to try.]
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Date: 2018-11-13 05:03 am (UTC)Sliding off to the side so he doesn't squish Bakugou with his full weight but still allowing for the arms around him, holding him, Midoriya hooks his chin over Bakugou's shoulder and runs a hand up and down his belly, petting him not unlike a large cat. ]
Alright. Come get breakfast with All Might and I next week, then.
[ He's not foolish enough to think that agreeing is a marriage proposal or anything; there's a very real chance that whatever shape this takes, it will change or they'll move on from each other as they get older. It's wise to be realistic, pragmatic about these things, but also, he has more freedom now than he did before to introduce Bakugou to these kinds of things. It's not a date, but the dating process is usually to figure out if you like someone. He already knows he does, and it's not like Bakugou doesn't know his mom so there's no worry about some meet the parents talk. ]
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Date: 2018-11-13 05:13 am (UTC)Are you fuckin' kidding me? [He doesn't sit up or roll over, but he does turn his head in the opposite direction and look away. Enough time to sort out whether he wants to scowl or have his face be soft at the prospect.] I didn't have All Might's dick in my goddamn hand.
Why do I fucking have to eat breakfast with him with you?
[Maybe he's scared. All Might is the pinnacle he's trying to reach. No, trying to surpass. It's easy now to race by the husk of the former man, but the legacy left behind is what he has to do right by. What he has to beat.
And he can't do that if he's having to look All Might in the face while Midoriya says some loser nerdy shit, like, ah yes, they're kind of dating; or worse, they fooled around--not that he knows Midoriya would ever utter that to All Might--or even more horrendous: they might have become friends, but better.]
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Date: 2018-11-13 05:21 am (UTC)Because that's when we generally get breakfast. You could eat lunch with us if you wanted, instead.
[ He's breezing right by what is probably the actual issue because in his mind it's not an issue. They've both wanted to be like All Might since they were kids; Midoriya knows that he's obscenely lucky to be as close to him as he is, but Bakugou knows too. Involving him isn't a necessity, nor is it pity but he's not sure how to make that clear.
Midoriya's hand splays over Bakugou's belly, tracing up as he considers everything. Maybe positioning it a different way... ]
You want to surpass him, and me, right? I get good advice from him when we eat together so it's only fair.
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Date: 2018-11-13 05:37 am (UTC)He whips his head back around, angry, but it falters only slightly when he's met with something jovial instead of something taunting. When he's met with logical words, ones that speak to him in the pit of his determined, goal-driven soul.
Gritting his teeth, he turns his head back around again, grumping for a short few moments, trying to decide whether he wants to accept or reject the offer. It's Midoriya, but it's also All Might, and Midoriya isn't wrong about his wants.
When he looks back, his head turns slow and unsure. His face scowls faintly.] Why does it fucking matter so much to you? [It's still not given in quite the right way. It's an offer, a sweet one.
But he sees it more as pity, yeah, even if it isn't. He sees himself as a third wheel, like this is all obligatory, like he knows his personality is abrasive and no one wants him there anyway. A formality.]
I didn't do this to get your All Might handouts, Deku. I can do it on my damn own. I'm gonna leave you in the goddamn dust, and I don't need your help learning what All Might knows to do it.
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Date: 2018-11-13 05:45 am (UTC)Why does winning fairly matter so much to you? It's not worth it if you know you didn't do everything in your power to win, right? It's not fun if you know the others you're fighting against aren't at what their best could be.
[ He wouldn't have considered it until Bakugou, really, and that's the real shame of it. They're lucky enough to have him as a teacher; Midoriya can't just invite everyone to lunch with All Might, but Bakugou isn't everyone else. He's never been anyone else but uniquely himself, and while it's sometimes to a fault, he is growing. Maybe that's not all he's concerned about, though. ]
I want this to be fair, too. I won't...mention any of this, if that's what you're worried about.
[ Uraraka wouldn't tell everyone what she saw, but Midoriya knows between the three of them he's the weakest link here, shit at keeping secrets. ]
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Date: 2018-11-13 03:50 pm (UTC)It's about Shouto Todoroki using the whole quirk, making him work for it, making him earn it so he can boast he succeeded against a capable opponent. It's about Izuku Midoriya not holding back just because they're "friends", just because he's hurting, but showing him there's a reason All Might saw something in the scrawny good-for-nothing quirkless bastard to hand down one of the greatest gifts in the world.
His hand snaps, grabs Midoriya's wrist, the one belonging to the hand stroking the rigid line of his abs and stomach, and it squeezes, but doesn't yank. Instead, he quickly rolls himself over on top of Midoriya from the side, hides his face in the scoop of Midoriya's gently bruised neck.
Bared and gritted teeth brush the skin, though there's no rowdy, horny biting, no playful nips. It's pure frustrating, at himself, something that sits like hard iron in his chest and pains him. He pushes his face into Midoriya further, bunches the sheets when he fists his hands into them at Midoriya's shoulders, head.]
He doesn't give a shit about me like he does you, dumbass. There's no fucking point. You'll just...
You'll just end up like him... I won't even get the fucking satisfaction of you being in second. You'll just end up like him... trying some bullshit because of me...
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Date: 2018-11-13 04:29 pm (UTC)He lets himself get rolled, but instead of Bakugou trying anything, he simply mashes his face into the side of his throat, exhaling warm, humid air there. There's the threat of teeth but he seems...upset, more than aroused. Not for the first time he wishes there were some sort of Bakugou cheatsheet.
Lightly, he tugs the sheets up around their waist and mirrors Bakugou's earlier move to put an arm around his shoulders. If his sheets get exploded in the process, that's fine, he can always buy more. He's far more concerned with Bakugou, winding a hand into his hair, stroking through it with steady, slow pulls. ]
He doesn't know you like he knows me. I didn't give him much of a chance to say no. [ There's a bit of wryness to his voice as he admits it, hand smoothing down, gripping the nape of Bakugou's neck to squeeze, bordering on a massage. So many of their disagreements are because of moments like this; where it sounds like Bakugou's upset over losing when it's that he's concerned or worried or any other countless number of emotions he doesn't seem to know how to process. Sighing, Midoriya holds him tighter, squeezing. It's a valid concern; Midoriya knows that he's been injured too much to deny it.] Maybe, but I don't think it's likely. I have all of you here too. Things are so...different from how they were. And we still have to worry about All for One, but we know more, we can prepare...
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Date: 2018-11-13 06:04 pm (UTC)[There's no concern he's acting a little childish. He doesn't lift his head out of Midoriya's neck. The brush of his light lashes comes once, downward, and then they don't lick the skin anymore. The shift of his brows--it's obvious he's squeezing his eyes shut.
But the hand helps, the one tingling his scalp and kneading his neck. He hikes his shoulders faintly up, but doesn't shake it off. The arms, the biceps quiver with frustration for a few minutes before, slowly, relaxing.]
Preparing don't mean shit, Deku. Not when you keep breaking everything trying to be stubborn. Not with All Might... [He can't even say it, damn. Retired. Gone. He's still so very inwardly bitter about being caught in the first place.
Doubling back means protecting Midoriya with a fierce tenacity.] Don't think... [Finally, he lifts his head back, reaches up to grab Midoriya by the throat under the jaws.] ...you can't just fucking kiss me back and then go out and do some idiot bullshit and come back with everything broken. Smiling like a goddamn moron.
You either get strong enough it doesn't happen, or I blow your face off and save me the trouble.
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Date: 2018-11-13 08:47 pm (UTC)[ Midoriya's voice is low and warm, pressed into the wild tangle of Bakugou's hair. There's a part of him that can't believe they're here, that he misunderstood Bakugou for so long but it only makes him all the more certain that he's going to do this right. He's going to do right by Bakugou in whatever way he can. ]
I know.
[ The retirement of All Might may have hit Bakugou harder than All Might, really. He hadn't considered that, but looking back... Midoriya aches. He tilts his head to bare his throat, the weight of Bakugou's hand not a threat but comforting, strangely. His hand squeezes the nape of his neck again, dragging down until he can press into the muscle of his shoulders. ]
I'll do my best as long as you do, too, okay, Kacchan? I promise.
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Date: 2018-11-13 09:14 pm (UTC)Because he never thinks to show it.
His fingers squeeze Midoriya's throat for the briefest of seconds before loosening, sliding away to the side, and his face drops down in the dip above a bare clavicle, the base of the neck.] You're... a stupid... piece of shit, Deku. [His head stays down for a bit, letting Midoriya's hand knead him, letting himself be bathed in the clean scent of naked and hot skin.
And then he pulls up and away fully, out of Midoriya's hand and arm, throwing off the sheet and turning around to sit on the edge of the bed. His head moves quick, but his eyes are ringed red, no tears, his cheeks and the tops of his ears likewise flushed with emotion.
He lets his arms drape over his thighs, his shoulders slump forward. He hadn't blasted the entirely of the underwear away, but most of it, and he feels a little bad, but doesn't apologize for the scrap left under his feet or the smear of grey ash on his hips and legs.]
What time?
now i want...gross like yrs later h/c where one of them gets Fucked Up defending the other
Date: 2018-11-13 10:34 pm (UTC)Gingerly, Midoriya strokes a hand down the line of his spine, stopping at the small of his back. Too much physical affection might be a problem so he's careful not to come too close, rolling onto his side, a pillow gathered in his arms to rest his cheek on. ]
Eight or nine, usually, if nothing comes up.
[ It's usually All Might's schedule interfering since Midoriya doesn't have work just yet, but lately the internships and other partnerships have taken up some time he wasn't expecting. It's good, he likes doing it but Bakugou's worries aren't unfounded. ]
do it. dont think baku won't get fucked up for midoriya or be pissed af if the other did
Date: 2018-11-13 10:51 pm (UTC)He's not unlike a finicky cat; Midoriya's careful and light petting is wanted enough without being overbearing and confining. He feels like the one in control; he can come and go if he wants, he can stop it or beg for more if he wants.]
Text me. [Added, muttering:] Doesn't mean I'm fucking coming. Just means I'll think about it.
HAHAHA they both get wreckt and are in the hospital arguing w e/o and the nurses are like STOP
Date: 2018-11-13 11:13 pm (UTC)Smothering his yawn into the pillow, Midoriya stretches once, groaning happily and then slowly makes his way out of bed. He's still a mess and desperately needs a shower but he slides on a fresh pair of boxers and then a clean pair of sweats, gathering up his discarded clothes to put into the washer later. ]
I'll let you know when and where and if you can make it, we'd love to see you. If not, I understand.
[ He wants a bath, everything a little sticky and he cracks a window so the room doesn't smell like sex, sweat and sugar. He's not sure of the state of Bakugou's clothes, so:]
Want to borrow anything?
wow that's exactly how it'd go???
Date: 2018-11-14 01:32 am (UTC)And at the All Might memorabilia. As if he assumes whatever Midoriya would give him, regardless of how normal Midoriya has been dressed, would be crazily blinged out with All Might deco. Is he wrong? Listen. He needs to secretly love All Might very much.
Give him an All Might t-shirt, though.
Sliding off the bed, it's almost begrudgingly how he steps into his pants and underwear and yanks them back up simultaneously over his thighs and over his waist. Midoriya was almost right earlier: boxer-briefs, best of both worlds. Makes him streamlined but gives room. He digs around the bed for his black shirt.]
nurses contemplating smothering the top 2 upcoming heroes in their fucking sleep IT'S WHAT THEY DES-
Date: 2018-11-14 01:44 am (UTC)What are you gonna do when you become a hero with merchandise and I start wearing it, too?
[ He's mostly joking, but oh, oh it's real. He'll be able to do that. He can roll up to a press conference in a horrific orange hoodie and the idea rules honestly.]
until they come in and bakugou is in the bed with midoriya sleeping
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