[ The smile goes from sunny to a little smirk, challenging. He knows, he absolutely knows, and he likes pushing Bakugou's buttons when and where he can because he can do that now and he likes their rivalry. Likes how it's evolved from when they were kids.
Bakugou is right, though. Midoriya isn't the best at caring about everything that his publicist cares about. Getting out of a car to an event with Uraraka or another girl is going to launch a series of rumors about who is dating who and while it doesn't happen as much with men there are still things they have to contend with. But he wants Bakugou to come with him, regardless. This nebulous thing where they fight together, they have sex, they hang out, it's all good but Midoriya also wouldn't mind more when it comes down to it.
The thing is he doesn't know if that's what Bakugou wants. ]
Think of it as...I dunno, a show of good sportsmanship.
[ He's cheating now, leaning in closer, walking his fingers up from Bakugou's waist to his shoulders, sliding his hand under the jacket, over the vest, coming in close. ]
There's nothing quite as important to him than fairness in rivalry. It's why he got so mad before, still gets so mad, when people don't take him seriously and fight him with all they've got. When they don't bring to the table something that forces him to earn it. Something challenging.
He hates to lose, but hell, he'll take losing any day over having an opponent draw back power.]
You little shit. [He smashes his forehead gently, but a tad painfully, into Midoriya's own. Stares with a hard, leveled red gaze.] I'm gonna kill you.
[Both hands draw back. Instead, he pushes them up between them and captures Midoriya's face between the palms. He isn't holding back when he kisses this time. It's hungry and wanting, hard. Lip bruising. He takes what he wants, turns a foot between Midoriya's ankles and drops his weight forward, pins Midoriya to the wall.
He keeps kissing until he thinks he might strangle from lack of air, and only then does he draw back, chest quietly heaving.]
If you don't fucking go now, I'm going to blast every inch of this goddamn thousand dollar suit off your body, and I'm going to scorch that whole shitty couch while I fuck you into the springs.
[ He knows he's won when Bakugou headbutts him. A little ow! escapes through his smile but then because it's Bakugou, of course it escalates. Rough hands cup his face and Midoriya leans into the kiss, parting his lips instantly so he can return it. What he doesn't expect is being pushed back into the wall, kissed within an inch of his life.
It's impossible not to give as good as he gets; Midoriya arches against him and grabs the nape of his neck because that's about the only safe place to touch right now, but he pushes a thigh between Bakugou's legs and shamelessly grinds up against his cock just once before pulling back. He's not panting, but it's close, and he does have to adjust himself in his pants when it's done. ]
Okay. Okay, okay, okay, alright, no more of this or I'm gonna let you.
[ God. Midoriya exhales shakily and slips back, ushering them both out of the apartment before he really does do something that gets his publicist to murder him. ]
[Yet again, he's smelling sweet, and it's overpowering the cologne. Because of course he's sweating. Of course he has to shove his hand into the pocket of his pants and adjust himself for the second time. Pray that the hardon has disappeared by the time they're stepping out of the car at the gala.]
Fucking go then.
[He half wrestles, half lets Midoriya wrestle him out of the door; they fight over it much like they fight over everything else. What's worse: showing up at the gala in disheveled clothes, together, or not showing up at the gala at all period? Together.
He actually wouldn't give a shit if he got in trouble. (Of course.) But he would one hundred percent take the blame, not unlike how quickly he spoke up about forcing Midoriya to fight him in the street so long ago.
Whatever. The gala. He'll get Midoriya afterward, looking like a fucking snack in that damn shitty ass suit.]
[ The gala is fun despite everything. It's a chance to get all dressed up and eat fancy food and see all of his friends again when he doesn't always see them so often, scattered across Japan. They pose for pictures and say enthusiastic hellos to each other; Midoriya's pretty sure that there's going to be a photo of him hugging and picking up Iida, Uraraka, Tsuyu and Todoroki in a massive hug all at the same time just because he can. Class A is effectively a living nightmare for the people in charge of them, but it could always be worse.
In the dinner hall surrounding the stage there are around a hundred different circular tables with names already set up. After the mixing and mingling, they get ushered in and spend a solid ten minutes where none of them are sitting where they're supposed to, all caught up in different conversations until a harried-looking organizer asks them please, sit in their seats.
Midoriya settles into his and bumps his shoulder into Iida playfully. When Bakugou sits down he gives him an innocent enough look and then once the table skirt hides it, slides a hand over his knee and up just high enough that it's teasing, fingers dragging lazily along the inseam of Bakugou's thigh while he sips champagne with the other hand and holds a conversation with someone across the table. ]
[Arriving, unfortunately, just means he’s met with exactly what he expects: people shocked he even came. Well, classmates. They can’t believe Bakugou is here much less here dressed to the nines. Kirishima had called him twice to double check, then texted him several times while they were on the way to make extra sure. Then Kirishima texted Midoriya to see if Midoriya would vouch, as if Bakugou would actually lie.
Being greeted now is vastly different than when they just entered school. Everyome gave him a wide berth, naturally, except one red-haired and one electric idiot. He was unstable, angry, sour. No one wanted to be around him, a far cry from middle school when everyone stuck to his ass. Here, now, at the gala, they understand Bakugou’s boundaries, his motives. They aren’t afraid to gently tease him, pick him up, compliment him. He hates all of it, but suffers it with nothing except a lot of curses and ear-smoke.
To say he didn’t enjoy seeing everyone, Kirishima, Kaminari, Tokoyami even, the girls, would be wrong. Everyone is growing on him. Reminding him how fragile his place, his rise to Number One can be. Anyone can challenge it, take it. This refreshes his drive.
At the table, at dinner, he grabs Midoriya’s teasing, sneaky hand by the wrist and squeezes warningly... but he doesn’t push the hand away. He doesn’t even keep it in one place, simply allows his fingers to rest on the arm as it goes, as it makes the cut muscles beneath grow stiff along the thigh. He won’t look at Midoriya, though he’s also trying not to talk to anyone else, especially not Poptart Splitz on his other side. He can’t. He’ll blush. He won’t be able to focus, and it’s better trying to focus on the fingers that keep drawing heat to his lower stomach.
In the leg of his pants, Midoriya can feel him, trapped and mildly hard, and he’s going to have to sit here until he gets soft, and he’s going to need to pray they don’t have to stand to bow.]
You’re pushing it, Deku... [It’s a low, growling whisper cutting into Midoriya’s conversation.] How many of those fruity fucking things have you had already?
[ They're still young Midoriya has to remind himself. They're still young and they're not Hawks, or All Might, and they don't need to follow their footsteps exactly to be successful. They'll dig their own paths out and make their way to number one and Midoriya is certain of it. They've come too far to do anything else but be successful. Besides, events like this just make him even more excited to get there, to work as hard as possible. Watching people on the stage giving speeches can be kind of boring when it's clearly just directed at the press and going over things they already know, but then the food starts coming out and Midoriya's stomach growls.
Thank you so much, he tells the waiter cheerfully like he doesn't have a hand two inches from Bakugou's cock under the table skirt, like he's not threatening (promising?) to be borderline indecent.
It is still the hero gala and while his hand is hidden he won't risk anything too much. It's splitting hairs at this point given that his hand is still against the inside of Bakugou's thigh but he doesn't dip any higher to grope at his cock no matter how much he wants to. He'll behave, mostly, keeping it to the intimate little brushes of his fingers. The soup comes and he sets his champagne down, picking up his spoon. ]
Only two, Kacchan.
[ The intimacy of touching the inside of his thigh is one thing, but even more shamelessly, Midoriya slides his hand up a touch and loops their fingertips together so he's just casually holding his hand while they're sitting there, nodding and smiling as someone else asks him something. ]
[Just two he says like that’s nothing for someone like Izuku Midoriya. Technically, it is, but Bakugou still can’t wrap his head about Midoriya’s metabolism. Worse, this means the rubbing of his thigh is one hundred percent intentional and sober. He’s being riled up. It’s working.
His fist squeezes Midoriya’s forearm again. How is he supposed to focus on the food? Gently, jaw squared, eyes only briefly and somewhat half-lidded, he shifts in the seat to rub himself against the fingers and palm. Fuck. A mistake. Almost like it’s Midoriya’s fault, he shoves the hand down toward his knee, but not off, quickly retracts his hand to clench it on top of the table.
Todoroki asks if he’s feeling okay, and all he can do is growl an airy fuck off.
Again, he won’t look at Midoriya. He nearly bends the spoon lifting it, but manages to make due with an attempt at eating. Trying to focus less on his lap and the warm, solid hand settled against his leg, more on the food and his hunger. The stomach hunger. The one. he can actually satiate currently.
He looks either somewhat ill or drunk, and people will probably think it’s the latter. There’s a faint hot flush high on his cheeks, one that peeks just above the collar of his shirt. He’s smelling sweet again. A little.]
[ Izuku Midoriya, actual fucking menace to society but also one Katsuki Bakugou. Tragic.
Bakugou is correct in that it's wholly intentional. There's no one else in the world that makes him like this, wanting to one-up another person in as many ways as humanly possible just to know that he can compete with them. He and Uraraka or Todoroki get pretty bad about it, sure, but they've evened out as time's gone on. With Bakugou, though, it's like all their hard edges are worn smooth but that urge to compete still rises up inside him regardless.
The little hip-rise gets a poorly hidden smile; to anyone else it'd look like he's paying attention to the speeches but he cuts Bakugou a little look at the end of it and blessedly decides to play nice for the time being. Every so often his fingers will stroke down Bakugou's thigh but for the most part he behaves himself, though he's absolutely taking that champagne top off. The tips of his ears are warm and his cheeks are getting there, the little thrill of this rising because Bakugou's not stopping him. At one point he leans over during a break between speakers and presses his lips to Bakugou's ear. ]
[Maybe whispering in his ear with earm and fruity-bubbly breath isn’t the best. He honestly wishes they had never left the apartment. One shoulder hikes up to bump Midoriya in the chin, not exactly a disinterest so much as an attempt to keep his dignity under something which makes him tingle all over. Midoriya hadn’t even fucking said anything remotely dirty!!
The soup is half finished when his hand finally goes back beneath the tablecloth. He gropes a moment—still won’t look at Midoriya—until he can find the other’s hand. He returns the earlier sentiment; threads their fingers together and keeps the hand hostage against his poor, damp palm.
For a bit, he bides his time. Let’s Midoriya carry on, thinking maybe he won’t ever talk back. He even talks just briefly with Todoroki. And then he turns his head to peer fully at Midoriya, to catch the other’s eyes and give a kind of beckoning glance. He squeezes the hand below the table once. Thankfully, he’s mostly settled again now that he can control what Midoriya’s hand is doing.
When Midoriya leans in, he tips his chin and puts his lips over the shell of the other’s ear.] Who do you think sitting at this fucking table wonders what your mouth feels like swallowing them up—besides me?
Is there a hero statistic for the look on your face when you’ve got your mouth open waiting for what I’m gonna put in it?
[ It's not a no or a stop, but they're back to holding hands and Midoriya's content with this for the time being. The second course comes and he picks at some kind of shrimp...situation but truthfully he's too focused on the way Bakugou's fingers are laced in with his. Maybe some people worry about sweaty palms but Midoriya feels like his are constantly clammy and terrible to hold; he almost apologizes for it but bites it back barely.
Things go normally for a while; he only needs one hand to eat and it's nice to catch up with everyone. More than that, there's a ridiculous thrill that goes through him, holding Bakugou's hand in secret. While he realizes a good part of it is probably to keep them behaving, the rest of him feels like a dumb high schooler again, with his crush actually holding his hand. When he's beckoned over, he leans in, and oh, yeah, okay, maybe whispering in Bakugou's ear earlier was a little cruel because his stomach flipflops abruptly and then what he says registers and Midoriya drops his fork straight onto the plate.
Thankfully, it's loud enough around them it's not too bad but everyone stops and looks at him and he flusters further, waving it away. You know him, clumsy, it's fine, everything's fine, don't worry, so sorry. His face is bright red and Uraraka is watching him, her gaze shifting to Bakugou's, eyes narrow and considering but not saying anything. He's fine. It's fine. He's totally cool. Midoriya inhales through his nose and squeezes Bakugou's hand fiercely until he trusts he can keep his shit together. Then, he leans over again because they're both terrible and no one is sitting between them to stop them.
He's not...great at dirty talk, in his mind. He's good at observational talk during sex, because that comes easily to him but actual, intentional dirty talk is... well. He's working on it. It takes a solid few seconds for him to steady himself and figure out how to word this so he doesn't die of embarrassment, but: ] Does it matter what anyone else thinks when the only one I think about going down on is you?
[Though bothered by a lot of what Midoriya is doing to him in punlic, he isn’t bothered by squaring up to someone actually looking, seeing. Not that Uraraka can see his hardon, their hands clasped. (Shit, he didn’t even consider if someone had a quirk that could. Fuck! What paparazzi wouldn’t invest in x-ray vision?)
Whatever. He doesn’t flinch under Uraraka’s scrutinizing gaze. In fact, he keeps staring in her direction when Midoriya whispers to him again. Geez. He’s going to have to work more magic, not that he thinks he can save this nerd. It’s... a little endearing. That Midoriya struggles with something he can excel at. Great.
Best At Dirty Talk.] Pathetic. [Finally, his eyes drop to Midoriya. About time he has the upper hand. His lips tip toward Midoriya’s cheek and ear.] You could’a at least fucking said the only cock you love squeezing your lips around is mine. [They are pushing their luck so much. Iida is telling then to stop whispering impolitely during speeches. He wants to give the middle finger; instead he gives Midoriya something else:] You’re going outside with me after during the fucking break.
You’re gonna regret making my dick hard under this table.
[ He had about ten total minutes of being able to handle this without blushing like hell and now that's over, because Bakugou called his fucking bluff and he's trying not to wither away but also pay attention at the same time. Multitasking. It's fine. He's fine. This is totally fine. It's a double standard to be talking about how he won't blow him in the bathroom but he's sitting here borderline dirty talking at the fucking dinner table and he knows he's going to pay for it later.
Maybe his commentary was a little too...honest, though. He'd meant it as a compliment, but now he's over-thinking it. It's not a declaration of love or anything ridiculous, but that's probably not the thing you say to your friend-rival-thing with benefits, right? Is that weird? He feels like it's weird. Maybe it's not. Maybe maybe maybe-
Midoriya sits straight up as soon as Bakugou finishes and yeah, there's no way he's hiding his blush, determinedly looking at his plate as he mechanically shovels food into his mouth to keep from saying anything else and to at least play at not being a disaster of a human being. Iida gives him a look for the faux-politeness and he shrugs, like he's not the one who instigated this, sort of. Sorry he mouths and only twenty percent means it. Maybe ten.
Someone else is giving a speech and he tries his best to pay attention but all he can think about is the promise-threat and how he feels like he's burning and he can smell, faintly, Bakugou's cologne. He never should have sat next to him, they knew better. Midoriya cups his water glass and takes a long drink and then dares to lean back in his seat, voice low but not leaning in so Iida crawl across the table and shake them. ]
I don't think I will.
[ Regret it, that is. Besides, he's half-hard in his pants too, though he's doing his level best to stay focused on literally anything else but that. ]
[On the other hand--not the one clasped finger-tight under the table with Midoriya's own--Bakugou can barely eat anything. He's hungry, but the hunger feels deeper than simply food consumption. It isn't about the delicious meal painstakingly prepared for them. It isn't a hunger he can satiate so easily.
It's soul food?
It's a burning, hard pressure in the center of his chest, and he's not half as red as Midoriya, but close enough. The two of them look absolutely ridiculous sitting straight, Midoriya, and slumped away, Bakugou, linked together by two arms weirdly disappearing below the tablecloth by their thighs.
From across the table, Kirishima finally kicks him in the shin to get his attention. The sharp teeth are on full display when Kirishima grins big, and then the guy makes pointed motions at the food on the plate. Not for himself, of course. Bakugou's eyes drop to his own. To everyone else, though not Midoriya probably, not Kirishima, he looks angry and sour. But the exact expression isn't anger. It's worry, uncertainty.
The fingers around Midoriya's hand squeezes faintly before drawing away. They're damp, but warm and red from holding, and he rubs the back of his neck after bringing the arm out of the tablecloth.
No one is talking again yet. The low lull of conversation feels safer. He turns and gets out of his chair, except toward Todoroki so he doesn't have to see Midoriya's large, round eyes peering up at him with concern and confusion. There's no glancing back, not to anyone, even when he can feel some eyes on him, following him down along between the tables and seats--it looks like he's headed for the bathrooms but there's a corner of a hallway and after he's around it, he's out of sight.]
[ He's been distracted enough times and had to force himself to eat that this isn't too bad. He can shovel appetizers into his mouth while people talk to him, at him, and not make too much of an ass of himself. Bakugou's barely touched his and while it was kind of cute at first, it's actually a little concerning because Midoriya doesn't know if it's because of the teasing or something else.
No one's paying attention to them in the dim lit room, he's relatively certain but then Kirishima manages to get Bakugou's attention and is smiling not unlike the shark he's compared to often. Midoriya ducks his head and focuses on those shrimp again, letting the hand slip away. Maybe this is the turning point, right? Maybe this is where he'll decide that they're doing this to rile each other up, so why not do it...for real? Bakugou isn't huge on the public displays of affection thing as far as he can tell, but Midoriya likes the idea of thinking boyfriend, or holding his hand at stupid movies.
Bakugou shoves up from the table and leaves, which normally would be explained by a bathroom break if it weren't for everything else. Midoriya sits straight in his chair a few moments longer, glancing over to watch him go, torn between following and letting him do whatever he needs. In the instant Bakugou's gone, though, Uraraka kicks him, seated next to Kirishima and mouths WHAT WAS THAT. A glance at Kirishima reveals raised eyebrows.
Okay.
Maybe not as subtle as he thought. He shrugs and times it, but if Bakugou's not back in a reasonable amount of time to pee he's excusing himself and going after him. ]
[Midoriya has a wait which grows increasingly more worrisome the longer it continues. Longer than a bathroom break, but not quite long enough to be a total runaway bride.
Bakugou doesn't come back out from the hallway because he's already removed the suit jacket and dropped it on the sill of the tall reception window, uncuffed and rolled up both sleeves to his elbows, shoved his hands into his pockets.
He's got his phone, but it's silent for the event and in his pocket, and he doesn't even think to bring it out to check for the texts he knows he's probably getting, the ones he doesn't want to exactly leave on read. So now he's left with just himself, peering out the window at nothing in particular with the distant thrum of noise from the other room siphoning through the mouth of the hallway.
As surprising at it is, he's patient for the moment. He waits.]
[ A few minutes in, Uraraka kicks him. Then Kirishima. First of all, ow? Midoriya whispers, betrayed. His friends who are actively the worst, gesture to the doors in a clear well? so obediently, he scoots back from the table and goes Bakugou hunting. Waiters are milling about giving out round three so he's able to escape with hopefully no one tracking him but once he's out into the hallway he exhales, relaxing a little.
There aren't many people here blessedly, so he can start looking for Bakugou and then- ah. He's standing by the window and Midoriya tries not to worry, but... ]
The others were wondering where you went.
[ Midoriya doesn't touch him, doesn't come too close. He stands by the wall and leans against it, watching his profile for a moment and then looks down at his shoes. ]
[When the familiar green head comes around the corner, Bakugou only turns his head just enough to glance that way. It's brief; he looks back out the window without moving, without taking his hands out of his pockets.
The declaration about the others gets a soft, barely heard grunt.
He waits a moment, but Midoriya doesn't get any closer than the wall, and out of the corner of his eyes, he can see Midoriya watching him with nervous expectancy.] Come here. [He still doesn't move, not until Midoriya finally gets closer to him. One hand comes out of his pockets, and he snakes the arm heavily around Midoriya's shoulders and neck.
The flip is quick and solid; he swings Midoriya around so they almost trade places, but he follows up by bulldozing himself into Midoriya's front and pinning Midoriya's back into the rough, jutting edge of the window sill and wall. The head, at least, doesn't thunk with his arm in the way, but it does when he squeezes them together and goes hungrily to town on Midoriya's mouth like he threatened would happen.]
[ Midoriya's pretty sure he's not mad. Relatively certain. At least 55% certain. If he were actually mad he would have made a scene, or bitched Midoriya out in private and that would have been that. The fact that he left means that he was probably expecting that Midoriya would fuss and that he would come after Bakugou.
He comes closer as he's told to, moving on instinct rather than anything else and then abruptly, he's flipped and shoved up against the wall in the hallway. There's no stopping the sharp noise of surprise he makes, pressing a hand against Bakugou's chest before he realizes it's fine, there's no one else out here but it's a far cry from a bathroom. At least a bathroom has stalls and some measure of privacy but an abandoned hallway at a huge hero gala is not exactly ideal.
There are fifty ways this could go wrong if they aren't careful, but despite his mind going over each and every one of them Midoriya parts his lips and winds an arm around his waist, kissing him back. Where concern and time had cooled him down a little bit, all of it comes roaring back the moment Bakugou shoves him into the wall. Bad idea, worst idea, the most terrible of ideas he knows, but Bakugou smells delicious and Midoriya wants to eat him alive, wants to take him apart and out of that suit and they're only on the third goddamn course. ]
[They're not standing in the middle of the event room--they might as well be for how subtle the two of them are--but it's not the best place in the slightest. Anyone could come out further down the hall; anyone could come around the mouth and spot them immediately.
He doesn't seem to give much of a shit.]
Shut up.
[It's not an asking or a beg, it's a command, but it's actually delivered a lot softer than most of his usual commands. A hot, hoarse grumble between them. He doesn't give Midoriya time to refuse, to comment; instead, he keeps Midoriya's mouth busy with his own. The meal is there, but barely. It tastes more like champagne than anything else and, if anything, this seems appropriate to him for someone like Midoriya.
He slaps the edge of Midoriya's jacket out of the way and, gentler, still needy, feels what he can of Midoriya's side and hip through the shirt with his palm. Warm from the two of them fooling around, being confined by suits.
The kissing slows without losing its edge.] Don't [A kiss.] fucking [A kiss, sloppier.] rub [A kiss, on one side of the mouth, missing.] my cock [a kiss] under the [a kiss] goddamn table.
[His fingers get a fistful of shirt beneath the jacket at Midoriya's back. It isn't about getting off here. It's the fight to rile each other up; a chicken fight to see who will say quit first. He yanks a portion of the shirt up, dips his hand below and feels the skin there with his fingers, his hand.]
[ They are going to get murdered, brought back and then murdered again by approximately twenty people if they get caught. That's enough to keep him from getting too invested in the proceedings all the way up until Bakugou starts talking and Midoriya folds like a wet paper bag. The yelling is one thing, but it's this, the low, raspy growl, the impatient hands, all of it together that makes Midoriya's stomach twist with want, makes him think about all of the rules he's supposed to be following and shoves those straight out the window.
Technically, he supposes no one can see him unless they're approaching from the sides and Bakugou's reflexes are great. They'd totally hear someone if they came out this way but most everyone else is focused on the food. They'll be fine. Besides, he's short enough Bakugou could probably hide him and Midoriya could duck his head, and that'd...well, it's not a great plan but it would buy time. ]
I was just trying to rub your thigh, you were the one who decided to try and shove it into my hand, Kacchan.
[ Pinned against the wall gives him something to brace against; he presses his foot back against it, angling his knee up and fits his thigh neatly between the muscled lines of Bakugou's giving him something to grind down on. He's careful not to push his hands anywhere that'd upset Bakugou's outfit too much but he does shamelessly stroke his hand over his jaw, tracing up over the curve of his ear, stroking through his hair gently so he doesn't muss it beyond fixing with no mirrors. His thigh pushes up, deliberate, and Midoriya fits his hand to the nape of Bakugou's neck, fists a hand in the short hair there and pulls in conjunction with a low, filthy grind, watching him intently. ]
[As soon as the knee lifts, Bakugou realizes he's in trouble, they're both in trouble. His thighs part, wordlessly turning him into a real slut, and then they close tightly back over Midoriya's leg.
The whole of his face bunches, like he wants to be angry, like he's about to be angry, but the held breath ruggedly shakes out of him when he releases it, and the expression fades quickly into something resigned, flushed, pleased. When he bites his bottom lip, it nearly bleeds.
Once he returns the grind, he freezes, leaning heavily into Midoriya's body. His head ducks down without tossing the hand off, and he presses his forehead into Midoriya's shoulder, frustrated. Then he presses it into Midoriya's neck at the collar of the shirt, breathes a:] Fuck. [like he knows this is a bad idea and wants not to care. He's quiet for so long, heavy on Midoriya's chest, breathless, half hard, smelling sickeningly sweet.]
I want to wreck you. I want to destroy you. I want you... so fucking badly.
[What he doesn't notice is the smoke. The fog? Iridescent like the soap and oil in bubbles, but thicker. It spills low on the floor, heavy, out from the event room and into the mouth of the hallway. The tendrils of it stretch slowly out, pushed along by the rest that just keeps coming. In the distance edge of the room, along the boundaries of where everyone is gathered: more smoke, the sudden lack of much sound, the scrape of chairs.]
[ Midoriya knows he's got him the moment that happens. His lips twist into a pleased little smile and he tugs playfully at his hair lightly this time, smoothing his fingers down the nape of his neck gently a moment later. He loves looking at Bakugou like this, flushed and wanting and all worked up because of him. It's different from the thrill that he gets when they're fighting, sparring against each other but it's still delicious. ]
I want you to. It was all I could think about when you were dressing up, you look so good and I - I. Uh.
[ He's been sort of keeping an eye on the door just in case they have to act like this is just a really enthusiastic hug, but there's smoke starting to lick out from underneath the door, almost iridescent when the lighting hits it. He's entirely distracted from Bakugou in a heartbeat, staring at it and then he pushes at him. ]
There's smoke. Kacchan.
[ They're both flushed and a little messy but Midoriya doesn't care because he doesn't know what that is but it can't be good. ]
...I'm gonna lose the bet, aren't I.
[ They're absolutely about to get messy and his nice suit is going to be ruined. One more kiss, and then Midoriya slides off his jacket, giving Bakugou a lopsided smile. ]
[Bakugou's heart leaps into his throat the moment he twists back to glance behind him. Smoke. There's no roaring of flames, and it's not floating at the ceiling--it's on the ground.]
What the fuck? Don't breathe it. [He's stunned by the kiss not because he gets it but because of the smoke, the fear. He shields Midoriya when he turns around. Fuck.] Out the damn window, we'll go around.
[On the way, Bakugou wants to know why the hell anyone in their right mind would attack a gala housing this many heroes. A bold move, but a stupid one it felt like? This many registered do-gooders who could kick your ass, and some moron... No. The League. It's gotta be the damn League.
Getting back in elsewhere gives them the element of surprise, though also offers them an equal amount. They're not wrong: it's the League, a few of them. The smoke isn't exactly like the smoke from the camp, but similar enough. The floor and tables are littered with unconscious people--their classmates. He's a lawful jock, hot-headed, wants to rush in, and it takes Midoriya's incessant reassurance for him not to do it.
Working together is something Bakugou's grown more use to over the years. Instead of trying to relegate himself to the front, the best, he's willing to focus on the victory of helping others. But he's still powerful, and he knows his quirk isn't made for saving so much as destroying. The building doesn't stand up against his rallying. The building doesn't stand up against villains willing to use friends and allies as leverage.
For once, there's something more important than winning.
Katsuki Bakugou gives up his assault when Midoriya crumples beneath the broken rubble of the building. It's about Izuku, but more than that. It's about Deku. It's about One for All. It's about All Might handing down one of the most prized gift, and Bakugou refuses to just let Midoriya go down, be smeared into a stain like the man isn't going to become Number One.]
DEKU! [The slab of cement rolls away, and he trips when he tries to slide into the opening, curses as the skin is stripped away along his leg, his pants doing with it. There's hardly anything left of his shirt, his tank top. Dust and blood cover his face and his shoulders and arms, but he reaches down to hook his hand carefully below Midoriya's neck, thumb smoothing the cheek in front of the ear.
The touch is too light, like he thinks Midoriya is dead, like the neck will just twist in his hand and show it's snapped.] Deku, you fucking bastard, open your damn eyes! [Please.] Izuku! [Stone shifts.
He barely gets to glance over his shoulder when another cement slab is lobbed down on top of them. It snaps against the hole, but covers it, hit him solid in the back and knocks the wind out of him. He slips further into the alcove and lands on top of Midoriya with a strangled wheeze and then a fit of coughing.
Killed him, he thinks. He finished the job, not unlike All Might. The new Symbol of Peace and Hope is destroyed by him again, and he growls hoarsely and airily in the dim confines of the collapse.]
[ Being a hero means going into dangerous situations. It means acting first and thinking later, doing his best to save as many people as he can, when and however he can. It means having the power to protect his friends and if he can't do that, what's the point? They'll be fine, though. They still have so much that they need to do and there are countless heroes here. While Midoriya can recognize it's the perfect place to attack if they're trying to take all of the heroes out and while from a strategy standpoint it's sound, he hates it.
For a while there's nothing but chaos. Half of the other heroes are out of commission if not all of them and for a while there's nothing but the pounding of his heart and the crackle of One for All mixed with Bakugou's explosions. Sweat drips into his eyes and he swipes a dirty hand against it, smearing dust and grit across his skin but keeping the sweat out of the way as much as possible.
Bakugou takes a hit Midoriya should have seen coming and he chokes out a mangled version of Kacchan! and then the building is collapsing. There's nothing he can do besides try and punch the debris out of the way and save as many people as he can with what he's got but even that isn't working. Bakugou's nice suit is going to be ruined he thinks fuzzily, one minute fighting and the next an impact hits him hard enough it takes him a few moments to pull himself back together. He comes to with Bakugou over him, coughing viciously and when he tries to lift his arm to reach out to him it doesn't feel like it's working. He raises his left instead and fits a hand around the muscle of Bakugou's forearm. His mouth is dry, dust in his eyes and sprinkled in Bakugou's hair along with smears of what he's pretty sure are blood on the other man. ]
Kacchan, are you okay?
[ He's clearly not. Neither of them are, but they're heroes and they have to do something. Slowly, he creeps his hand up through the mangled material of his jacket and Bakugou's arm, gripping it. His smile is trembling but he puts as much certainty into it as he can, adrenaline thrumming through him. They can't see covered like this, so he tries to focus as much of his quirk into him as he can, flickering lightning lighting Bakugou up in shades of soft, sickly green. Please be okay, Midoriya thinks toward anyone listening, and feels the building rumble around them. Some of the villains are down and other heroes are up, they have to be, which means they just need to get out of here. ]
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timeasmymeasure
lmk if this is ok!!
Date: 2018-11-19 10:20 pm (UTC)[ The smile goes from sunny to a little smirk, challenging. He knows, he absolutely knows, and he likes pushing Bakugou's buttons when and where he can because he can do that now and he likes their rivalry. Likes how it's evolved from when they were kids.
Bakugou is right, though. Midoriya isn't the best at caring about everything that his publicist cares about. Getting out of a car to an event with Uraraka or another girl is going to launch a series of rumors about who is dating who and while it doesn't happen as much with men there are still things they have to contend with. But he wants Bakugou to come with him, regardless. This nebulous thing where they fight together, they have sex, they hang out, it's all good but Midoriya also wouldn't mind more when it comes down to it.
The thing is he doesn't know if that's what Bakugou wants. ]
Think of it as...I dunno, a show of good sportsmanship.
[ He's cheating now, leaning in closer, walking his fingers up from Bakugou's waist to his shoulders, sliding his hand under the jacket, over the vest, coming in close. ]
yes gimme so we can ruin it later with one of them almost dying
Date: 2018-11-19 10:34 pm (UTC)There's nothing quite as important to him than fairness in rivalry. It's why he got so mad before, still gets so mad, when people don't take him seriously and fight him with all they've got. When they don't bring to the table something that forces him to earn it. Something challenging.
He hates to lose, but hell, he'll take losing any day over having an opponent draw back power.]
You little shit. [He smashes his forehead gently, but a tad painfully, into Midoriya's own. Stares with a hard, leveled red gaze.] I'm gonna kill you.
[Both hands draw back. Instead, he pushes them up between them and captures Midoriya's face between the palms. He isn't holding back when he kisses this time. It's hungry and wanting, hard. Lip bruising. He takes what he wants, turns a foot between Midoriya's ankles and drops his weight forward, pins Midoriya to the wall.
He keeps kissing until he thinks he might strangle from lack of air, and only then does he draw back, chest quietly heaving.]
If you don't fucking go now, I'm going to blast every inch of this goddamn thousand dollar suit off your body, and I'm going to scorch that whole shitty couch while I fuck you into the springs.
idiot 20 somethings who are fwb in love but never talk about it, sfklsklfs
Date: 2018-11-19 10:41 pm (UTC)It's impossible not to give as good as he gets; Midoriya arches against him and grabs the nape of his neck because that's about the only safe place to touch right now, but he pushes a thigh between Bakugou's legs and shamelessly grinds up against his cock just once before pulling back. He's not panting, but it's close, and he does have to adjust himself in his pants when it's done. ]
Okay. Okay, okay, okay, alright, no more of this or I'm gonna let you.
[ God. Midoriya exhales shakily and slips back, ushering them both out of the apartment before he really does do something that gets his publicist to murder him. ]
remember when i said he wasnt a moron? i take it back
Date: 2018-11-19 10:53 pm (UTC)Fucking go then.
[He half wrestles, half lets Midoriya wrestle him out of the door; they fight over it much like they fight over everything else. What's worse: showing up at the gala in disheveled clothes, together, or not showing up at the gala at all period? Together.
He actually wouldn't give a shit if he got in trouble. (Of course.) But he would one hundred percent take the blame, not unlike how quickly he spoke up about forcing Midoriya to fight him in the street so long ago.
Whatever. The gala. He'll get Midoriya afterward, looking like a fucking snack in that damn shitty ass suit.]
it's ok deku is horribly moronsexual at this point. also timeskipping.
Date: 2018-11-19 10:59 pm (UTC)In the dinner hall surrounding the stage there are around a hundred different circular tables with names already set up. After the mixing and mingling, they get ushered in and spend a solid ten minutes where none of them are sitting where they're supposed to, all caught up in different conversations until a harried-looking organizer asks them please, sit in their seats.
Midoriya settles into his and bumps his shoulder into Iida playfully. When Bakugou sits down he gives him an innocent enough look and then once the table skirt hides it, slides a hand over his knee and up just high enough that it's teasing, fingers dragging lazily along the inseam of Bakugou's thigh while he sips champagne with the other hand and holds a conversation with someone across the table. ]
looks at the cast. mmm. understandable.
Date: 2018-11-20 12:43 am (UTC)Being greeted now is vastly different than when they just entered school. Everyome gave him a wide berth, naturally, except one red-haired and one electric idiot. He was unstable, angry, sour. No one wanted to be around him, a far cry from middle school when everyone stuck to his ass. Here, now, at the gala, they understand Bakugou’s boundaries, his motives. They aren’t afraid to gently tease him, pick him up, compliment him. He hates all of it, but suffers it with nothing except a lot of curses and ear-smoke.
To say he didn’t enjoy seeing everyone, Kirishima, Kaminari, Tokoyami even, the girls, would be wrong. Everyone is growing on him. Reminding him how fragile his place, his rise to Number One can be. Anyone can challenge it, take it. This refreshes his drive.
At the table, at dinner, he grabs Midoriya’s teasing, sneaky hand by the wrist and squeezes warningly... but he doesn’t push the hand away. He doesn’t even keep it in one place, simply allows his fingers to rest on the arm as it goes, as it makes the cut muscles beneath grow stiff along the thigh. He won’t look at Midoriya, though he’s also trying not to talk to anyone else, especially not Poptart Splitz on his other side. He can’t. He’ll blush. He won’t be able to focus, and it’s better trying to focus on the fingers that keep drawing heat to his lower stomach.
In the leg of his pants, Midoriya can feel him, trapped and mildly hard, and he’s going to have to sit here until he gets soft, and he’s going to need to pray they don’t have to stand to bow.]
You’re pushing it, Deku... [It’s a low, growling whisper cutting into Midoriya’s conversation.] How many of those fruity fucking things have you had already?
no subject
Date: 2018-11-20 12:56 am (UTC)Thank you so much, he tells the waiter cheerfully like he doesn't have a hand two inches from Bakugou's cock under the table skirt, like he's not threatening (promising?) to be borderline indecent.
It is still the hero gala and while his hand is hidden he won't risk anything too much. It's splitting hairs at this point given that his hand is still against the inside of Bakugou's thigh but he doesn't dip any higher to grope at his cock no matter how much he wants to. He'll behave, mostly, keeping it to the intimate little brushes of his fingers. The soup comes and he sets his champagne down, picking up his spoon. ]
Only two, Kacchan.
[ The intimacy of touching the inside of his thigh is one thing, but even more shamelessly, Midoriya slides his hand up a touch and loops their fingertips together so he's just casually holding his hand while they're sitting there, nodding and smiling as someone else asks him something. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-11-20 02:40 am (UTC)[Just two he says like that’s nothing for someone like Izuku Midoriya. Technically, it is, but Bakugou still can’t wrap his head about Midoriya’s metabolism. Worse, this means the rubbing of his thigh is one hundred percent intentional and sober. He’s being riled up. It’s working.
His fist squeezes Midoriya’s forearm again. How is he supposed to focus on the food? Gently, jaw squared, eyes only briefly and somewhat half-lidded, he shifts in the seat to rub himself against the fingers and palm. Fuck. A mistake. Almost like it’s Midoriya’s fault, he shoves the hand down toward his knee, but not off, quickly retracts his hand to clench it on top of the table.
Todoroki asks if he’s feeling okay, and all he can do is growl an airy fuck off.
Again, he won’t look at Midoriya. He nearly bends the spoon lifting it, but manages to make due with an attempt at eating. Trying to focus less on his lap and the warm, solid hand settled against his leg, more on the food and his hunger. The stomach hunger. The one. he can actually satiate currently.
He looks either somewhat ill or drunk, and people will probably think it’s the latter. There’s a faint hot flush high on his cheeks, one that peeks just above the collar of his shirt. He’s smelling sweet again. A little.]
no subject
Date: 2018-11-20 02:49 am (UTC)Bakugou is correct in that it's wholly intentional. There's no one else in the world that makes him like this, wanting to one-up another person in as many ways as humanly possible just to know that he can compete with them. He and Uraraka or Todoroki get pretty bad about it, sure, but they've evened out as time's gone on. With Bakugou, though, it's like all their hard edges are worn smooth but that urge to compete still rises up inside him regardless.
The little hip-rise gets a poorly hidden smile; to anyone else it'd look like he's paying attention to the speeches but he cuts Bakugou a little look at the end of it and blessedly decides to play nice for the time being. Every so often his fingers will stroke down Bakugou's thigh but for the most part he behaves himself, though he's absolutely taking that champagne top off. The tips of his ears are warm and his cheeks are getting there, the little thrill of this rising because Bakugou's not stopping him. At one point he leans over during a break between speakers and presses his lips to Bakugou's ear. ]
You can tell me to cut it out and I will, okay?
no subject
Date: 2018-11-20 03:13 am (UTC)The soup is half finished when his hand finally goes back beneath the tablecloth. He gropes a moment—still won’t look at Midoriya—until he can find the other’s hand. He returns the earlier sentiment; threads their fingers together and keeps the hand hostage against his poor, damp palm.
For a bit, he bides his time. Let’s Midoriya carry on, thinking maybe he won’t ever talk back. He even talks just briefly with Todoroki. And then he turns his head to peer fully at Midoriya, to catch the other’s eyes and give a kind of beckoning glance. He squeezes the hand below the table once. Thankfully, he’s mostly settled again now that he can control what Midoriya’s hand is doing.
When Midoriya leans in, he tips his chin and puts his lips over the shell of the other’s ear.] Who do you think sitting at this fucking table wonders what your mouth feels like swallowing them up—besides me?
Is there a hero statistic for the look on your face when you’ve got your mouth open waiting for what I’m gonna put in it?
midoriya deadass 2 sec later: i'm going to suck your brains out of your dick if you don't stop
Date: 2018-11-20 03:30 am (UTC)Things go normally for a while; he only needs one hand to eat and it's nice to catch up with everyone. More than that, there's a ridiculous thrill that goes through him, holding Bakugou's hand in secret. While he realizes a good part of it is probably to keep them behaving, the rest of him feels like a dumb high schooler again, with his crush actually holding his hand. When he's beckoned over, he leans in, and oh, yeah, okay, maybe whispering in Bakugou's ear earlier was a little cruel because his stomach flipflops abruptly and then what he says registers and Midoriya drops his fork straight onto the plate.
Thankfully, it's loud enough around them it's not too bad but everyone stops and looks at him and he flusters further, waving it away. You know him, clumsy, it's fine, everything's fine, don't worry, so sorry. His face is bright red and Uraraka is watching him, her gaze shifting to Bakugou's, eyes narrow and considering but not saying anything. He's fine. It's fine. He's totally cool. Midoriya inhales through his nose and squeezes Bakugou's hand fiercely until he trusts he can keep his shit together. Then, he leans over again because they're both terrible and no one is sitting between them to stop them.
He's not...great at dirty talk, in his mind. He's good at observational talk during sex, because that comes easily to him but actual, intentional dirty talk is... well. He's working on it. It takes a solid few seconds for him to steady himself and figure out how to word this so he doesn't die of embarrassment, but: ] Does it matter what anyone else thinks when the only one I think about going down on is you?
i’m hollering THEY ARE AT A GALA WTF [iida hand noises]
Date: 2018-11-20 03:48 am (UTC)Whatever. He doesn’t flinch under Uraraka’s scrutinizing gaze. In fact, he keeps staring in her direction when Midoriya whispers to him again. Geez. He’s going to have to work more magic, not that he thinks he can save this nerd. It’s... a little endearing. That Midoriya struggles with something he can excel at. Great.
Best At Dirty Talk.] Pathetic. [Finally, his eyes drop to Midoriya. About time he has the upper hand. His lips tip toward Midoriya’s cheek and ear.] You could’a at least fucking said the only cock you love squeezing your lips around is mine. [They are pushing their luck so much. Iida is telling then to stop whispering impolitely during speeches. He wants to give the middle finger; instead he gives Midoriya something else:] You’re going outside with me after during the fucking break.
You’re gonna regret making my dick hard under this table.
LMFAOOOO "i cannot take any of you ANYWHERE"
Date: 2018-11-20 04:08 am (UTC)Maybe his commentary was a little too...honest, though. He'd meant it as a compliment, but now he's over-thinking it. It's not a declaration of love or anything ridiculous, but that's probably not the thing you say to your friend-rival-thing with benefits, right? Is that weird? He feels like it's weird. Maybe it's not. Maybe maybe maybe-
Midoriya sits straight up as soon as Bakugou finishes and yeah, there's no way he's hiding his blush, determinedly looking at his plate as he mechanically shovels food into his mouth to keep from saying anything else and to at least play at not being a disaster of a human being. Iida gives him a look for the faux-politeness and he shrugs, like he's not the one who instigated this, sort of. Sorry he mouths and only twenty percent means it. Maybe ten.
Someone else is giving a speech and he tries his best to pay attention but all he can think about is the promise-threat and how he feels like he's burning and he can smell, faintly, Bakugou's cologne. He never should have sat next to him, they knew better. Midoriya cups his water glass and takes a long drink and then dares to lean back in his seat, voice low but not leaning in so Iida crawl across the table and shake them. ]
I don't think I will.
[ Regret it, that is. Besides, he's half-hard in his pants too, though he's doing his level best to stay focused on literally anything else but that. ]
iida is gonna have to seperate them
Date: 2018-11-20 03:58 pm (UTC)It's soul food?
It's a burning, hard pressure in the center of his chest, and he's not half as red as Midoriya, but close enough. The two of them look absolutely ridiculous sitting straight, Midoriya, and slumped away, Bakugou, linked together by two arms weirdly disappearing below the tablecloth by their thighs.
From across the table, Kirishima finally kicks him in the shin to get his attention. The sharp teeth are on full display when Kirishima grins big, and then the guy makes pointed motions at the food on the plate. Not for himself, of course. Bakugou's eyes drop to his own. To everyone else, though not Midoriya probably, not Kirishima, he looks angry and sour. But the exact expression isn't anger. It's worry, uncertainty.
The fingers around Midoriya's hand squeezes faintly before drawing away. They're damp, but warm and red from holding, and he rubs the back of his neck after bringing the arm out of the tablecloth.
No one is talking again yet. The low lull of conversation feels safer. He turns and gets out of his chair, except toward Todoroki so he doesn't have to see Midoriya's large, round eyes peering up at him with concern and confusion. There's no glancing back, not to anyone, even when he can feel some eyes on him, following him down along between the tables and seats--it looks like he's headed for the bathrooms but there's a corner of a hallway and after he's around it, he's out of sight.]
the parent they don't deserve
Date: 2018-11-20 04:57 pm (UTC)No one's paying attention to them in the dim lit room, he's relatively certain but then Kirishima manages to get Bakugou's attention and is smiling not unlike the shark he's compared to often. Midoriya ducks his head and focuses on those shrimp again, letting the hand slip away. Maybe this is the turning point, right? Maybe this is where he'll decide that they're doing this to rile each other up, so why not do it...for real? Bakugou isn't huge on the public displays of affection thing as far as he can tell, but Midoriya likes the idea of thinking boyfriend, or holding his hand at stupid movies.
Bakugou shoves up from the table and leaves, which normally would be explained by a bathroom break if it weren't for everything else. Midoriya sits straight in his chair a few moments longer, glancing over to watch him go, torn between following and letting him do whatever he needs. In the instant Bakugou's gone, though, Uraraka kicks him, seated next to Kirishima and mouths WHAT WAS THAT. A glance at Kirishima reveals raised eyebrows.
Okay.
Maybe not as subtle as he thought. He shrugs and times it, but if Bakugou's not back in a reasonable amount of time to pee he's excusing himself and going after him. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-11-20 05:53 pm (UTC)Bakugou doesn't come back out from the hallway because he's already removed the suit jacket and dropped it on the sill of the tall reception window, uncuffed and rolled up both sleeves to his elbows, shoved his hands into his pockets.
He's got his phone, but it's silent for the event and in his pocket, and he doesn't even think to bring it out to check for the texts he knows he's probably getting, the ones he doesn't want to exactly leave on read. So now he's left with just himself, peering out the window at nothing in particular with the distant thrum of noise from the other room siphoning through the mouth of the hallway.
As surprising at it is, he's patient for the moment. He waits.]
no subject
Date: 2018-11-20 06:12 pm (UTC)There aren't many people here blessedly, so he can start looking for Bakugou and then- ah. He's standing by the window and Midoriya tries not to worry, but... ]
The others were wondering where you went.
[ Midoriya doesn't touch him, doesn't come too close. He stands by the wall and leans against it, watching his profile for a moment and then looks down at his shoes. ]
Is everything alright?
no subject
Date: 2018-11-20 06:35 pm (UTC)The declaration about the others gets a soft, barely heard grunt.
He waits a moment, but Midoriya doesn't get any closer than the wall, and out of the corner of his eyes, he can see Midoriya watching him with nervous expectancy.] Come here. [He still doesn't move, not until Midoriya finally gets closer to him. One hand comes out of his pockets, and he snakes the arm heavily around Midoriya's shoulders and neck.
The flip is quick and solid; he swings Midoriya around so they almost trade places, but he follows up by bulldozing himself into Midoriya's front and pinning Midoriya's back into the rough, jutting edge of the window sill and wall. The head, at least, doesn't thunk with his arm in the way, but it does when he squeezes them together and goes hungrily to town on Midoriya's mouth like he threatened would happen.]
no subject
Date: 2018-11-20 06:42 pm (UTC)He comes closer as he's told to, moving on instinct rather than anything else and then abruptly, he's flipped and shoved up against the wall in the hallway. There's no stopping the sharp noise of surprise he makes, pressing a hand against Bakugou's chest before he realizes it's fine, there's no one else out here but it's a far cry from a bathroom. At least a bathroom has stalls and some measure of privacy but an abandoned hallway at a huge hero gala is not exactly ideal.
There are fifty ways this could go wrong if they aren't careful, but despite his mind going over each and every one of them Midoriya parts his lips and winds an arm around his waist, kissing him back. Where concern and time had cooled him down a little bit, all of it comes roaring back the moment Bakugou shoves him into the wall. Bad idea, worst idea, the most terrible of ideas he knows, but Bakugou smells delicious and Midoriya wants to eat him alive, wants to take him apart and out of that suit and they're only on the third goddamn course. ]
Kacchan-
no subject
Date: 2018-11-20 07:06 pm (UTC)He doesn't seem to give much of a shit.]
Shut up.
[It's not an asking or a beg, it's a command, but it's actually delivered a lot softer than most of his usual commands. A hot, hoarse grumble between them. He doesn't give Midoriya time to refuse, to comment; instead, he keeps Midoriya's mouth busy with his own. The meal is there, but barely. It tastes more like champagne than anything else and, if anything, this seems appropriate to him for someone like Midoriya.
He slaps the edge of Midoriya's jacket out of the way and, gentler, still needy, feels what he can of Midoriya's side and hip through the shirt with his palm. Warm from the two of them fooling around, being confined by suits.
The kissing slows without losing its edge.] Don't [A kiss.] fucking [A kiss, sloppier.] rub [A kiss, on one side of the mouth, missing.] my cock [a kiss] under the [a kiss] goddamn table.
[His fingers get a fistful of shirt beneath the jacket at Midoriya's back. It isn't about getting off here. It's the fight to rile each other up; a chicken fight to see who will say quit first. He yanks a portion of the shirt up, dips his hand below and feels the skin there with his fingers, his hand.]
no subject
Date: 2018-11-20 07:15 pm (UTC)Technically, he supposes no one can see him unless they're approaching from the sides and Bakugou's reflexes are great. They'd totally hear someone if they came out this way but most everyone else is focused on the food. They'll be fine. Besides, he's short enough Bakugou could probably hide him and Midoriya could duck his head, and that'd...well, it's not a great plan but it would buy time. ]
I was just trying to rub your thigh, you were the one who decided to try and shove it into my hand, Kacchan.
[ Pinned against the wall gives him something to brace against; he presses his foot back against it, angling his knee up and fits his thigh neatly between the muscled lines of Bakugou's giving him something to grind down on. He's careful not to push his hands anywhere that'd upset Bakugou's outfit too much but he does shamelessly stroke his hand over his jaw, tracing up over the curve of his ear, stroking through his hair gently so he doesn't muss it beyond fixing with no mirrors. His thigh pushes up, deliberate, and Midoriya fits his hand to the nape of Bakugou's neck, fists a hand in the short hair there and pulls in conjunction with a low, filthy grind, watching him intently. ]
did you wanna be cockblocked at peak drama bc it happened
Date: 2018-11-20 07:49 pm (UTC)The whole of his face bunches, like he wants to be angry, like he's about to be angry, but the held breath ruggedly shakes out of him when he releases it, and the expression fades quickly into something resigned, flushed, pleased. When he bites his bottom lip, it nearly bleeds.
Once he returns the grind, he freezes, leaning heavily into Midoriya's body. His head ducks down without tossing the hand off, and he presses his forehead into Midoriya's shoulder, frustrated. Then he presses it into Midoriya's neck at the collar of the shirt, breathes a:] Fuck. [like he knows this is a bad idea and wants not to care. He's quiet for so long, heavy on Midoriya's chest, breathless, half hard, smelling sickeningly sweet.]
I want to wreck you. I want to destroy you. I want you... so fucking badly.
[What he doesn't notice is the smoke. The fog? Iridescent like the soap and oil in bubbles, but thicker. It spills low on the floor, heavy, out from the event room and into the mouth of the hallway. The tendrils of it stretch slowly out, pushed along by the rest that just keeps coming. In the distance edge of the room, along the boundaries of where everyone is gathered: more smoke, the sudden lack of much sound, the scrape of chairs.]
HAHAHA
Date: 2018-11-20 08:05 pm (UTC)I want you to. It was all I could think about when you were dressing up, you look so good and I - I. Uh.
[ He's been sort of keeping an eye on the door just in case they have to act like this is just a really enthusiastic hug, but there's smoke starting to lick out from underneath the door, almost iridescent when the lighting hits it. He's entirely distracted from Bakugou in a heartbeat, staring at it and then he pushes at him. ]
There's smoke. Kacchan.
[ They're both flushed and a little messy but Midoriya doesn't care because he doesn't know what that is but it can't be good. ]
...I'm gonna lose the bet, aren't I.
[ They're absolutely about to get messy and his nice suit is going to be ruined. One more kiss, and then Midoriya slides off his jacket, giving Bakugou a lopsided smile. ]
C'mon.
no subject
Date: 2018-11-20 09:05 pm (UTC)What the fuck? Don't breathe it. [He's stunned by the kiss not because he gets it but because of the smoke, the fear. He shields Midoriya when he turns around. Fuck.] Out the damn window, we'll go around.
[On the way, Bakugou wants to know why the hell anyone in their right mind would attack a gala housing this many heroes. A bold move, but a stupid one it felt like? This many registered do-gooders who could kick your ass, and some moron... No. The League. It's gotta be the damn League.
Getting back in elsewhere gives them the element of surprise, though also offers them an equal amount. They're not wrong: it's the League, a few of them. The smoke isn't exactly like the smoke from the camp, but similar enough. The floor and tables are littered with unconscious people--their classmates. He's a lawful jock, hot-headed, wants to rush in, and it takes Midoriya's incessant reassurance for him not to do it.
Working together is something Bakugou's grown more use to over the years. Instead of trying to relegate himself to the front, the best, he's willing to focus on the victory of helping others. But he's still powerful, and he knows his quirk isn't made for saving so much as destroying. The building doesn't stand up against his rallying. The building doesn't stand up against villains willing to use friends and allies as leverage.
For once, there's something more important than winning.
Katsuki Bakugou gives up his assault when Midoriya crumples beneath the broken rubble of the building. It's about Izuku, but more than that. It's about Deku. It's about One for All. It's about All Might handing down one of the most prized gift, and Bakugou refuses to just let Midoriya go down, be smeared into a stain like the man isn't going to become Number One.]
DEKU! [The slab of cement rolls away, and he trips when he tries to slide into the opening, curses as the skin is stripped away along his leg, his pants doing with it. There's hardly anything left of his shirt, his tank top. Dust and blood cover his face and his shoulders and arms, but he reaches down to hook his hand carefully below Midoriya's neck, thumb smoothing the cheek in front of the ear.
The touch is too light, like he thinks Midoriya is dead, like the neck will just twist in his hand and show it's snapped.] Deku, you fucking bastard, open your damn eyes! [Please.] Izuku! [Stone shifts.
He barely gets to glance over his shoulder when another cement slab is lobbed down on top of them. It snaps against the hole, but covers it, hit him solid in the back and knocks the wind out of him. He slips further into the alcove and lands on top of Midoriya with a strangled wheeze and then a fit of coughing.
Killed him, he thinks. He finished the job, not unlike All Might. The new Symbol of Peace and Hope is destroyed by him again, and he growls hoarsely and airily in the dim confines of the collapse.]
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Date: 2018-11-20 09:21 pm (UTC)For a while there's nothing but chaos. Half of the other heroes are out of commission if not all of them and for a while there's nothing but the pounding of his heart and the crackle of One for All mixed with Bakugou's explosions. Sweat drips into his eyes and he swipes a dirty hand against it, smearing dust and grit across his skin but keeping the sweat out of the way as much as possible.
Bakugou takes a hit Midoriya should have seen coming and he chokes out a mangled version of Kacchan! and then the building is collapsing. There's nothing he can do besides try and punch the debris out of the way and save as many people as he can with what he's got but even that isn't working. Bakugou's nice suit is going to be ruined he thinks fuzzily, one minute fighting and the next an impact hits him hard enough it takes him a few moments to pull himself back together. He comes to with Bakugou over him, coughing viciously and when he tries to lift his arm to reach out to him it doesn't feel like it's working. He raises his left instead and fits a hand around the muscle of Bakugou's forearm. His mouth is dry, dust in his eyes and sprinkled in Bakugou's hair along with smears of what he's pretty sure are blood on the other man. ]
Kacchan, are you okay?
[ He's clearly not. Neither of them are, but they're heroes and they have to do something. Slowly, he creeps his hand up through the mangled material of his jacket and Bakugou's arm, gripping it. His smile is trembling but he puts as much certainty into it as he can, adrenaline thrumming through him. They can't see covered like this, so he tries to focus as much of his quirk into him as he can, flickering lightning lighting Bakugou up in shades of soft, sickly green. Please be okay, Midoriya thinks toward anyone listening, and feels the building rumble around them. Some of the villains are down and other heroes are up, they have to be, which means they just need to get out of here. ]
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From:This is...re...the discord messages but i can edit if it ain't kosher
From:the adults are gonna murder him
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