👿 Open Post 3

[blastedass]

Open Post

What to hit up Bakugo for some action? Feel free to do whatever here!



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[hairsplit]

( excitement is the first feeling, like a curled ribbon knotted up in his stomach, pressing tighter and tighter around his arousal; his whole cock feels heavy with it, dense and unyielding, and the weight of the water around him only fuels the feeling, as though the heat of it all might drive him mad. his body is quick to over-correct, but it's hard to gauge how to manipulate his own temperature to match the bath water, to match his desperation, to match the heat of the air in the bathroom. his skin prickles with goosebumps on one side, the other damp with sweat, and then it's a shift in the opposite direction, and then it's a cold breath, staggered from between his lips: this is the sort of training he should have been enduring to begin with. if someone had told him to manage his own body heat in a scorching bath with his lover hot and wet in front of him, standing over him in the tub? it would have proven an even more difficult challenge than the ones he'd been placed into.

glassy, his gaze moves up bakugou's strong legs, wet from the shower, up along his hips, along his cock, along his stomach and chest and finally to his face; the anticipation is nearly palpable, his expression unwieldy, as though he can't temper it down like he usually can, as though it's free of the restraints that he puts on it. it doesn't take long for bakugou to sink into a crouch, but even that's too far, and even that isn't quite close enough. disgruntled, his lips press together into just the faintest hint of a frown, again, hands coming in so that they can fit, lightly, over the shape of bakugou's hips as though they're a silent pleading for him to continue. he won't beg, and he won't be upset if bakugou decides to flop himself over to the other side of the tub instead--but he will be a little disappointed.

the kneeling soon proves its purpose, as bakugou's hips shift in the water, and he can feel the clench of his ass cheeks fit around him, tight and hot and warm--his eyes slip shut against the feeling, as though his concentration falls into the sensation; fingertips grip and squeeze, tightening pointedly around bakugou's hips as he shifts, and he can feel the slick weight of bakugou's cock, too, rubbing heavy against his stomach. something about it is deliciously lewd in a way that's enticingly enjoyable--and it doesn't matter to him, in the end, what they do, so long as he gets to hear bakugou enjoy himself.

the sound of his name does it: another shiver, his shoulders tightening, breath leaving him in a rush, a swallow, a little tremor. ) Ah, that...

( he can't even articulate it. his hips press up, rubbing almost greedily, guiltily, between bakugou's cheeks, the pressure there just as hot as it had been before, with bakugou smashed up against the shower wall. somehow, that memory of just moments prior pulls another flash of heat, another sharp roll of arousal; he groans, audible and echoed, his head craning back against the edge of the tub as he works into something of a slow rhythm, rocking into bakugou, rubbing against him, the movement arching his stomach up as a hard plane of muscle beneath bakugou's warm dick.

it would be shameful to come just like this, wouldn't it? he's trying to hold onto the feeling, to keep it contained, steadying his own resolve with the feeling of bakugou's body, hands groping up to take him by the waist, instead. that helps keep both of their movements guided; that helps keep bakugou rooted to him, just as he's rooted back. )

[blastedass]

[such a visceral, erotic reaction flows over his boyfriend's body and he's the only one lucky enough to bear witness to it. from the beading sweat on one shoulder to the prickles of skin on the other to the faint ghost of vapor as a cold breath exits todoroki's mouth, he's left wondering if the other hero is going to end up boiling the water or flash freezing it with both of them still inside. quirk accidents during sex are embarrassing as fuck for the one who had the accident, but damn if he doesn't think it's fucking hot for the one who got the other to trigger it. means you're so damn good, your partner lost complete control of a whole bodily function. and todoroki's quirk is magnificent all on its own. as is his body, his expression, his personality when it's not driving the blonde up the wall. perhaps he should mess with his boyfriend even more with this at some point. take his time stripping down while todoroki's in the tub after getting him worked up and horny... it'd be cruel, but dragging out emotion from the normally-stoic boy is a pleasure in its own.

he had thought to simply take a seat across from him, let them both cool down amid the warm waters... but that thought was gone the second it came. adrenaline and arousal surge in his veins like fire, still hard and longing from the shower's spray, now traded for the bath's pool. sinking atop his boyfriend, knees possessively locking him in between them as he takes todoroki's lap for his own, sliding down his front with deliberate closeness as his balls and cock drag along the other teen's stomach. tantalizing him with a reminder of what his hand was playing with via that blind reacharound in the shower, now on full (if also water-wiggling) view between them as the blonde kneels atop the other boy's thighs.

his eyes lid from the sensations, as if todoroki's firm, smooth cock sliding up between his cheeks somehow manages to draw the shades over his red irises. he wanted that feeling back, infuriatingly teasing yet intimate with promise as the boy's strong length slots against his flesh again. he grips the rim of the tub, one over todoroki's shoulder, the other to his own side, as he leans forward, forehead barely floating against his boyfriend's, both hands clenching at the same time as todoroki squeezes his hips with his strong hands. it's no surprise that name tumbles from his mouth again, dragged out by the multiple points of contact and temptations of others as he starts to rock atop his lover's lap. knees rubbing into the tub floor, toes bent to brace his feet beside todoroki's knees in case he wants to thrust more than rock.]

Fuck... [this is fine. if they end up breaking just like this, he's deeming it fine. already the intent to penetrate is fading away, replaced by the silken grind of his lover's dick between his cheeks. a thick blunt head popping and rubbing at the cleft above his rear muscles, the weight and size of his shaft sending the nerves on the inside of his buttocks firing into reflexive clenches that hollow the sides before softening again. the only negative is a trade of feeling todoroki's balls rubbing against his own, soft sacs swinging with little slaps that caught their breaths... now he's left bereft of that, but instead earned the chiseled plain of todoroki's abs to run his own erection against, no longer bouncing neglected without a hand, but actively grinding between the grooves of his stomach muscles and giving a semi-mirrored return of the way his boyfriend's thrusting between his cheeks from behind. all the while rocking on his legs, insides of his thighs, calves, and ankles sliding back and forth along todoroki's own.

they can come just like this; it's not a problem; he's already losing himself in his boyfriend. enough that when todoroki tilts his head back out of sensation to breath, he only gets two breaths in before the explosive teen is lowering his head and mouthing along the jut of his chin, tongue playing against his jaw as his nips, sucks, and kisses anywhere between voice box and lower lip.]

[hairsplit]

( the shadow of bakugou's body, bent over him, feels heated and thorough, as though the temperature of the water around them seeps into their limbs, into that hand that's braced behind his shoulder, keeping him pivoted along his body. he couldn't escape from the bath even if he wanted to, not with bakugou's weight down on his lap, bakugou's ass clenched around his dick, bakugou's breath and bakugou's gaze hard enough to make him want to shiver again, as though his skin may very well break out into those timid goosebumps at the thought--but it doesn't matter to him, doesn't mean anything other than a flash of perverse pleasure at the fact that even bakugou wants to keep him here, that even bakugou isn't willing to part or be apart from him. it isn't just about the arousal, though he's sure that's a driving factor: the temptation of intimacy is just enough to get drunk on it, that heady, lilting pleasure of feeling confident in their feelings. with the way their bodies curve and touch and beg for the other, he can't doubt that bakugou is attracted to him here, in this moment. he can't doubt how he feels at all.

for as clumsy as he can be about his own feelings, as clumsy as he is about navigating this relationship, something new and a little terrifying to him--moments like these make him grateful, possessive and heated and absurdly inspiring.

even the space to breathe isn't allowed, when they're like this; his own head cranes back and bakugou's head follows him, two breaths lost to the space before lips touch his chin, teeth on his jaw, a hot tongue that curls up around the skin just shy of where he's most sensitive. his shoulders lock in, hands that grip and clutch at bakugou's hips hard enough to nearly bruise; he realizes it only too late, immediately loosening his grip, a brush of his fingertips in apology. every little bit of heat is pulsing through him down to his dick, and it's getting harder to think of the things the way he's supposed to, hard to consider the full scope of things when his attention is severed, thrown only in the direction of getting bakugou off, and getting himself off all the same. it's rare that he can be pulled so far out from his own stubborn defenses: but it's always bakugou that drags him there.

and it feels good, mouthing it all the same: ) Fuck.

( a lilt of excitement, echoing the word back to him, feeling it foreign on his tongue, on his lips, something forbidden that he shouldn't do--his hips jerk up, rolling with a little more fervor, as though not quite trying to unseat bakugou but rather make it more of a bumpy ride for him there, his cock dragged along the tensing curve of his hole. it feels too good to stop, as though even taking the time to line up for full penetration would be too much, fueled by too much impatience to be worth it; he can see the merits, but he's too blinded by the current feeling to want to bother with it. besides, bakugou's hips are moving in tandem already--he's not complaining about it.

with a soft, gasping groan of breath, where bakugou's teeth brush under his jaw, a sensitive little patch, one hand grips and slides to the small of bakugou's back, clutching in there with his fingertips; it's not as bad if it's there, blunt nails digging into the skin, while his other hand fumbles from bakugou's hip to the space between them. even with his own movement, it's clumsy at best, trying to get his hand around the smooth weight of bakugou's cock, rubbed against his abs; he gets his fingers around the head on his third try, smoothing down along the length of it greedily, squeezing, a fleeting touch before he pulls his hand off again. the feeling of it arched along his stomach feels good, but feeling it hard and hot in his hand feels good, too; maybe it works best as a trade off.

maybe he just wants bakugou to come first--wants to feel his whole body go tense, squeezing around his dick; maybe that's one of the first truly selfish thoughts he's had in awhile. fueled by it, his fingers grope in again, running along the length of bakugou's cock to take it up in his hand again: and give it a few good strokes, firm and tight and relentless. )

[blastedass]

[it's what he wants, to have todoroki looking up at him with two obvious results in those mismatched eyes of his. understanding that he wants him, that he's down there looking up at him with eyes that scream desire and his body thrumming with arousal because of the blonde straddling him and keeping him locked in the lower part of the tub. but more than attraction to him, he wants to see that understanding in todoroki's face of his own attractiveness. where he realizes the hand on the tub side, the arm stretched out to the opposite rim, the knees locked around either side of his thighs, that strong body hovering over him as red eyes bore into his face, are all coming from the same source: attraction. todoroki's attractive, and he's desired enough the other hero is kneeling atop him in the bathtub of a fucking love hotel with his dick hotdogging between his ass cheeks and his own erection rubbing eagerly against the half-cold-half-hot hero's stomach with zero intention of letting the taller boy get out of here without relief escape from of them. he doesn't want to see that doubt anywhere on todoroki's face about how he feels towards his classmate. he's attracted to this bastard.

he knows todoroki's still learning about his own feelings, and he fucks up plenty with them, even today, but as their relationship progresses, the explosive teen wants to dig in and drag out those feelings until todoroki can see them clearly. might take words (which everyone knows the blonde's bad at) or it might take sex, which they're doing now, or it might take something even more intense. but damn if he'll stop. like leaving todoroki a panting, molten mess against the shower wall their first time together, he's going to break him apart and leave him raw. in the good way.

head tilted back, it gives him freedom to descend onto todoroki's jaw. he takes his teeth to task, baring them as his lips curl back to better bite and scrape along the side of his bone. following the strong slope that people have always found so damn attractive, but only he gets to fondle and taste like this. switching to lips, softer as he kisses his way off the curve of bone and down to the cords of his throat, feeling the strain of his cabling muscles as todoroki shudders beneath his ministrations. he gets a catch of breath, the thrum of a powerful heartbeat, and the dip of his throat as a swallowed breath finally comes back out with a mouthing, sticky "Fuck" that sounds so damn amazing coming out of the reserved teenager's lips. in reward, he bites him right there on the voice box, clamping teeth and lips down in a firm, but light seal. its not there to leave a mark, but just to feel claimed.

hips buck under him and he breaks the connection as his thighs get pushed up from below. he lifts on his knees and toes again, then settles back down, testing whether that's attempt to relocate for comfort... or if todoroki's simply being a brat and making for a harder ride. b. he pushes his hips back, rutting his ass against the other teen's cock as it slots between his cheeks and rubs up and down across the clenching rim of his hole. it's tempting to simply angle back and let his head catch the puckered ring, let him shove right in and fill him up regardless of how much it'd hurt to take that thick thing without more prep. it's not like it's never happened before. but then again, tormenting todoroki and himself like this, taking the time to indulge, isn't that what a stupid love hotel is supposed to encourage?

fingers push and grind at his side, finally earning the taller teen a growl against his throat before the blonde leans his head back and sucks in his stomach, permitting him to get his hand between their bodies.] Ah! [todoroki goes for his dick; what else would he be going for?! fingers slide across his head and fumbles against the flank of his shaft before those long digits finally wrap around his tip on the third try. he bucks up instantly, shoving his dick into the other boy's hand with a wanton rush, wanting him to take hold and cup him entirely. or trap him between his palm and stomach if that's the end goal. squeezing and smoothing over the size of his dick. his breath comes shorter and he drops back onto todoroki's lap with a hot cuss, balls dragging up in his sac with anticipation. until that hand vanishes and the blonde growls against his boyfriend's lips for the tease.]

Where are you fucking-? [the question drops when todoroki returns and his forehead thunks against the other boy's, another growl and cuss following when he's stroked and rubbed over and over. groping over his length and alternating his fisting grip before deciding on hard. he jolts, tosses his head back slightly as his mouth falls open in a heated pant. staring into the other boy's eyes as his hands seize at the anchors on the bath rim and he rocks back more onto the balls of his feet alone rather than his knees in addition. ass shoving against todoroki's dick, rutting his hips forward into the hand fisting his cock over and over. he was already pulled wire-taut in the shower. now he's strung between the two sensations all over again, with a much better view, and it's not going to make lasting longer any easier.]

[hairsplit]

( at times the space between them feels like when a fish gulps for air, mouth parted in desperation--he wants to feel the hot, steady pulse of bakugou's breath, wants to feel him close to him there, knotted into the sensation with him, and the way his head moves or his mouth moves or his shoulders lift puncture that space with one brief, split second of worry; it feel like he might lose his air entirely, that the space between them will grow too wide, too far apart when all he wants is to be as close as humanly possible. they're nearly there, with the way that the bath envelops them both, the way that bakugou's strong legs clench in at either side of him, rocking on top of him, the way that his weight centers there, locked onto his lap, onto his pelvis; he would gladly throw himself under, would gladly let himself be suffocated by a lack of space between them. there's something so intoxicating about being close to him--he feels a little drunk on it, his head hazy, his desires molten and raw.

his hand grapples with the hot length of bakugou's cock there, trapped in the ring of his fingers--he can't tell what he wants, still, can't tell if he wants to jerk him off entirely or let him rub it out against his stomach, or some combination; the way that bakugou's body flexes, the way that his breath pours out, seems to say that he enjoys the sensation, the tight jerk of his hand, relentless, over his dick. it puts a little determination in his wrist, puts a soft, commanding glint in his gaze, as he finally works past his lashes enough to actually look at bakugou again, instead of hiding within the shadow of sensation.

it feels like a mistake. the sight of him there, arched over him, wet and sweaty and dripping a little with hot bathwater and the steam of exertion makes his dick jump, a twitch of desperation that moves from base to tip, hips pushed urgently in against the confines of bakugou's ass; his hand goes tight, a squeeze that he doesn't mean around bakugou's cock, and his head rocks back against the rim of the tub, chest fluttering with desire and frustration and arousal all the same. it's going to have to be some combination, then, or he's going to keep floundering: his fingers space out, palm heated and curved around the length of bakugou's cock, creating a tight space between his hand and his stomach, muscles tense with staggered breath.

feelings push at his teeth, desperation pushes at his tongue--his whole face flushes, embarrassed and aroused, but it feels only fair, it feels like he should say it, should demand it, a little, no matter how it comes out-- )

Katsuki. ( breathy, panting, his throat bobs with a hard swallow. ) I want...

( a strong start, but he can't quite get there--another cold chill of embarrassment washes over him, but he wets his lips, closes his hand in a little and pushes his hips up, longingly. this isn't about a fear that bakugou might yell at him, or even a fear that he might immediately disregard his words; he isn't afraid that it might change something between them, or that it's going to do any kind of harm to the budding relationship they have here, or that it'll deflate any of the sexual tension between them, the tension that they can't seem to escape no matter where they are or who they're with.

it's more that he's afraid of himself: afraid of his own feelings, afraid of saying them, afraid that it's the wrong thing when so many times it has been. but everything has been pushing them towards this, and every part of bakugou has been pulling at him, working him apart slowly, thoroughly, until the only thing left had to be this. it isn't even the worst, when it comes down to it: it's just a demand, plain and simple, mouthed in his usual deep confidence: )

Come. Come for me. I want you to come, for me.

[blastedass]

[he never thought having difficulty breathing would be a turn-on, yet each time his lips seal with todoroki's and they make out in deep, connected kisses, his body throbs in pleasure the tighter his lungs get. until the need for air finally tears his mouth away from the other boy's, leaving him panting just a scant space from todoroki's lips as gossamer threads of saliva spindle between their lips. before diving right back in for another one. his legs clench around the other boy's, feeling the flex of todoroki's thighs against the inside of his calves and beneath the back of his own as he rocks atop his lap, wanting to feel more of him amid the heated cling of bath water. todoroki's moving, rocking under him, letting their skin brush together over and over until he's lost sense of time and doesn't give a shit about it. so long as he gets to keep feeling that tangible proof of todoroki's desire and heat.

he clenches his hand atop the other boy's shoulder, fingertips digging into the muscle there and feeling the cut of his curved joint. he tries not to hurt him, but it's so damn hard not to squeeze hard whenever todoroki's hand messes with his dick. his shaft pulses and throbs each time he clenches his fist, balls drawing up slightly when his hand jerks up towards the oozing glans, blood runs faster whenever he manages to rub the sensitive tip against the other boy's hard abdominal wall and feel the grooves between each ab in a lewd rut. like hell is he not enjoying it. the heat raging in his eyes as he glares hooded and turned on into todoroki's own mismatched irises when the other hero finally looks at him.

apparently that's triggering. he feels todoroki's reaction instantly, the way his cock twitches between his own ass cheeks in that telltale jerk, shaft throbbing against the inside of his buttocks in eagerness for something he's not getting immediately. fucking damn erotic sight, the way todoroki's leaned against the tub wall with his broad shoulders glistening under beads of condensation as droplets leak down the lines of his neck and throat, drip from his damp bangs, a handsome beautiful mess that he wants to lean in and consume. his own dick jerks backwards as his abs harden, twitching the entire thing from tip to root in a hard jolt when todoroki fists him hard on accident. he's not flush to his chest, but he feels the rise in his heartbeat regardless, pushed up against the pucker of his own asshole as he presses back against it with needy grinds atop todoroki's lap. whether they end like this or one step further, he doesn't care, since they're insane if they think one round is all they're getting tonight.]

Shouto... [todoroki doesn't have to finish that broken phrase, not when his hips thrust up and the blonde knows exactly what he's asking/demanding. there will be other times for those deeper words and feelings. he grips the side of the tub again and todoroki's shoulder as he begins moving his hips in earnest, bucking and rocking against the other hero's stomach, into his hand, atop his lap, rubbing and touching him in every place possible. half kissing him, half simply panting against his mouth to keep their lips touching. that simple demand is all it takes. he wants to tell him to shut up, wants to snarl about giving him orders...

but all he can do is seize up, face flushing hotly that he's coming from todoroki ordering him to. mouth falling open in a hot yell without even trying to hide it, he bucks his hips up and his cock hardens like rock as jets of white spew and shoot from his tip in lines into the water. it ghosts hot and thick against todoroki's stomach before spreading in the bath as the blonde unloads one shot after another, abs clenching and dick twitching as his entire body roils in the grip of his orgasm. eyes squeezed shut, brows furrowed, shoulders hunched as he comes hard and cries out against todoroki's mouth, entire body curving over the other boy in a possessive, needy sort of claim that cages him in against the tub wall to keep todoroki there while he paints him with everything the other hero's backed up inside his muscular body.]

[hairsplit]

( sometimes it feels like being with bakugou is like being dropped into a lake without the confidence to know how to swim--and maybe it isn't right, and maybe he's a little messed up, or maybe it's normal, maybe this is the sort of thing that's supposed to feel this way, but he likes that it feels like drowning, likes that it feels like being thrust right into the middle of something without any hope or preparation, with just wits and determination to win against anything else. years ago, young and alone in that house, with everything and nothing standing between him and his siblings, him and the world, him and his dreams: ironically, the total space around him, empty and quiet, had felt so overwhelmingly suffocating, as though the air flew out of the room without anyone there to hold it in. now, even in these new moments with bakugou, even with this new relationship still building up between them, it feels like a different kind of suffocation: overwhelming, when bakugou leans in close to him. hot, when bakugou's mouth finds his. enticing, when bakugou's skin touches him, when their bodies move together, when his hips rut into him.

he's still learning how to accept his own feelings, and beyond that, how to act on them. he's learning how to socialize, how to be a better friend, how to be a partner, how to be--a boyfriend, something that had never really seemed like a reasonable possibility, and something that he still shyly refuses to think about, at times, as though thinking about it could cause it to disappear. but falling into these moments, headfirst, keeps him from overthinking them--keeps him from locking things up behind his teeth, in his throat, down in his chest.

case in point: there is something mind-numbingly arousing in hearing bakugou call out like that, a yell that isn't restricted by a mouth on his shoulder, or teeth sunk into a lip. it's almost as though he's only realizing it for himself in that moment, that hazy precipice just before the fall--this is the kind of place that is made for those sounds, the kind of place where neither of them have to worry about a nosy classmate knocking on their door or worse, a concerned teacher checking in on them at night. no one is going to come banging on the bathroom to tell them to keep quiet, or that they're using all the hot water, or anything else; he gets to hear bakugou in full, gets to feel bakugou in full, their mouths so close together that it feels like he's swallowing the sound of that pleasure, rather than his own breath.

and it feels good--bakugou's hips buck up and his hand stills, locks in around him not to keep him in place but rather to keep touching him, feeling him, holding him against him as his orgasm hits, threads of white shot into the bath water, across his stomach, spilling against his fingers. his own shoulders tremble, the feeling oddly overwhelming; it twists a knot in his stomach, riles him up to the point of his own frustration, hips rubbing needlessly up against the inside of bakugou's cheeks as though he can feel the orgasm by proxy, despite knowing he's so close to coming that his whole body tenses with the effort. it's possessive and warm and suffocating, around him; bakugou's body shadows him, paints him and the bath with his cum, mouths against him with pleasure, and he wanted to hold out, wanted to be cool, wanted to do something other than tumble right after him--

--but with that, how is he supposed to? ) Katsuki...

( is he pleading with him, or pleading with himself? or worse, pleading with the tight squeeze of bakugou's ass around him, the way the head of his dick rubs up against his hole like he could just as easily slip inside? his breath comes out in a pant, heated against bakugou's mouth; he's drowning, but he wants to be, wants bakugou to envelop him in the feeling, that delicious, painful twist right before orgasm, where he knows it's coming. ) Katsuki.

( a warning that comes too late, or maybe it's not a warning at all, but an appreciation--a desperation to taste that same freedom, to let his voice sing a little louder, a little bolder, a little clumsier than it would anywhere else; his head rocks back, hard against the edge of the tub, and the bathwater feels almost too hot around him, building with the heat in his body until it's too much--until his hips rut up and his orgasm rakes through him, pulls another desperate cry of bakugou's name from his lips. trapped there, his outburst ends up soaked along the inside of bakugou's cheeks, caught in the bathwater, dribbled and curved around the shape of bakugou's ass; his body, rigid and tight, loses tension like a balloon losing air, slow and steady, deflating and sliding against the back of the bathtub.

sharing bakugou's breath feels right, like that: their mouths close, drawn by heat and saliva; his skin prickles a little, goosebumps that adjust and shift and end up, through no real conscious effort, chilling the bathwater slightly to accommodate for the spike in his own temperature. )

[blastedass]

[for all that he prides himself on being in control and knowing how to do things, "relationships" have apparently come in and sucker punched him. he didn't care about it in middle school, didn't care about it when coming into u.a. but now he's in one with todoroki, whether he wants to admit it or not, and hell if he knows how to go about it.

certainly didn't plan on being wrapped up in a bath in a love hotel with his mouth pressing to todoorki's and hips bucking against his lap while trying desperately to decide between impaling his ass on the other boy's dick or letting him rub a climax out between his cheeks as he loses himself in a turbulent orgasm all over the other hero's stomach. if he wants to continue denying there's anything between himself and todoroki, wants to keep refusing to define what's obviously there beyond the heated skin to skin contact and their intimate moments together, then maybe he's the one who's an idiot. but how the fuck is he supposed to say something like that?! he's never confessed to someone before! it's fucking weird!

not thoughts to have while he's currently losing himself in the embrace of hot water and the mental whitewash of an orgasm pumping out all over todoroki's flooded torso. sensation, heat, pleasure, flesh, clench, movement, hard, shoves out everything in his brain except for that. thoughts, blocked. words, blanked. worries, wiped. nothing in there but screaming bliss and slow-to-dwindle high that inevitably has to come down after those few powerful seconds of eternity finally start melting across the sinew of his body. nerves trading overwhelmed peak to hyper-sensitive tenderness that feels everything all at once individually as his tight clenching on todoroki's body slackens into a desperate, exhausted cling. just so he won't collapse against him like a boneless wreck.

katsuki. ...that's what draws him back into the waking land. his name on todoroki's lips. all of a sudden bringing him to the pinpoints of contact, where he feels his hands on him, one clinging to his back and another still wrapped around his semi-hardened cock, holding him close while his legs frame todoroki's lap and take not of every flex of his thighs against the inside and backs of his own, calves cupping the side of his upper legs and ankles clunking to the sides of his knees. riding atop him, perched and caging, as if he can keep him right here all to himself. and his dick slotted up in the cleft of his ass, feeling each needy pulse of desperation twitching in that hard shaft nestled between his cheeks. or the electric shock jabbed into his veins each time that oozing, velveteen head rubs against his hole and threatens to push inside to really bring them together. todoroki's panting against his mouth and he's hovering atop him, forehead to forehead, gasping for air while knowing the other hero's basically floundering under him on the verge of breaking. saying his name again. a question? a plea? a warning?

at least until the brace against his forehead falls back and he almost drops onto the other hero's mouth. manages to save himself the embarrassment by twitching his own head backwards, red eyes finally opening to gaze at todoroki's fallen against the tub rim. it's all he gets before the incessant rubbing below him, between him, against him, finally peaks into a firm thrust that he suddenly wishes was inside him before todoroki's spilling all over his skin. coming with the yell of his own name, loud on todoroki's tongue, branding his ass and cheeks and lower back with hot white that's there in a burst and drifting away in the water the next. it slaps against the curve of his skin, marks him in ways he's felt before (just not as fleeting, damn water), and carries with it everything that is todoroki's orgasm.

they're both together, sunk and half-wilted in the heat of the bath, sharing air and sensations as they rest together. he feels everywhere todoroki's connected to him, craves each touch of skin to skin, voice to ear, taste to breath, and at some point is going to notice that the bath water's gone a little tepid thanks to someone regulating it... but until then, this is perfect.]

[hairsplit]

( the gasps of air that come through parted lips, tainted by relief and exertion, seem to only make his head swim more; lost in the feeling, he doesn't realize that his breaths aren't giving fully to the desperate bids for oxygen his lungs make, and with a swallow, he forces himself to focus. bakugou's body is warm against him, the bathwater is tepid but comfortable around him, and there's pleasure to be found in the inches where they connect, skin to skin, in the places where he's still stubbornly slotted, like he can't quite will himself to force his hips back and find further comfort. if he does that, doesn't it mean it's over? it's never fully over, at least not with bakugou, but even so: the thought sits, stubborn and sure, against the forefront of his mind as he tries to steady himself. tries to find the will to keep his lungs full and his head from spinning.

every orgasm with bakugou has been something of a marvel, the sort of overwhelming thing, rich with emotions, that he's never experienced doing things by himself, but this one feels deeper, still. like it pulls at his nerves, twists them into knots only to unravel them again. a warm, thorough sort of feeling, racked through his chest and down the rest of his body.

it takes him a long moment to will his eyes open again, to crane his head up, slightly, from where it's fallen against the edge of the tub. his hands move, brush, light, cautious fingertips over bakugou's legs, up along his hips, ghosting lightly over the skin of his sides that's half-covered with the bath water. these are the kinds of touches he isn't sure he can get away with, any other time: wandering, marveling, possessive, content. he doesn't realize it until it's too late, but he's smiling, something small and dumb and pleased--something that he immediately forces off his face when it feels it finally blossoming, there. )

Soap. ( --is what he finally says. they've muddied the bath water, in a sense, and he's not sure the proper etiquette for something like this; he'd always used the bath separately from his siblings, since there had been more than one in the large, sprawling todoroki house, but even so, he knows that soap and the bath aren't supposed to mix, not traditionally. which is why it's a little funny to consider. ) Another...bath. Shower?

( the thoughts make sense to him, the options, but the words are slow and separate, run through with the same contentment that he feels, lying with bakugou pressed on top of him in the bath. in all honesty, he would probably be content to stay there, arms wrapped around bakugou's middle, and now that he's realized it, the water temperature picks up a little, a small, plodding note of heat that winds through it as he foregoes regulation to try to bring the bath up to some level of a hotter temperature.

or, there's another option--he gazes up at bakugou from beneath his wet bangs, and his smile is there again, something small and decidedly playful: )

Another round?

[blastedass]

[somewhere in his mind, the reality his lungs and brain need oxygen continues to force the bellows in his chest to work, heaving his pectorals up and down to gain his air at the price of rubbing against todoroki's skin over and over. a goddamn torment considering how sensitive his flesh is right now. nerves far too excited to scream out exactly how pert a nipple is rubbing against his own, or how smooth this single patch of skin is sliding along his body, or how todoroki's fingers continue to grip at him in one of ten distinct areas that each want their fair share of time at the forefront of his post-orgasm brain. a dizzying demand he doesn't want to even address and yet is entirely captivated in at once.

of course it's different than doing it by himself. there's someone else here, someone he trusts, touching him, feeling him, pulling him, making him feel things that he could never predict and thus surprise him because he knows where his hands are going but has no clue where todoroki's going to touch. a kiss on his lips, a dick sliding against his balls, a knee nudging the back of his thigh, a hand clasping the nape of his neck, things impossible to do when he lies with himself solo. of course the orgasm todoroki drags from him is different ever single time.

it's not just touches coming in that are unknown. he can give them back and does so despite the hazy afterglow swarming him with a lewd blanket. fingers drift wherever he feels like they're wanted, wandering across the arch of todoroki's pelvis on one side, mapping out the place where it curves round to the start of a single pert buttocks braced against the tub floor, then back around to the tantalizing slope into the sensitive valley of his groin, just alongside the floating hang of his sac beneath the still-turgid base of his shaft nuzzling alongside the inside of his own rear muscles. while his other is content to tour the ripples of todoroki's ribs, skirt just under his arm, and then wander down along the firm contours of his oblique before settling on the side of a toned thigh. content... content because this feels good. pure and simple.

soap ... that's what he's going to break the silence with. a request for soap after they've already done the cleaning off part in the shower and are now supposed to be soaking in the clean heat of clean water with clean bodies... that they've just contaminated with the best feeling in the world and left their own emission floating around their skin. right, because soap is going to help with that. yeah, that's rather stupid to even think about, but it's ironically logical too.

bath ... shower ... now he's convinced torodoki's just deliriously saying words that would be expected in a bathroom setting. drunk on afterglow, rambling out pleasure-slurred vocabulary to make some kind of small talk when they don't have to say a fucking word in the first place. it's tempting to stay just like this, kneeling over todoroki's lap, his thighs trapped between his bent legs, sitting with his dick slotted between his glutes and his chest pressing flush to the other boy's. he's close enough to feel the rise in temperature, a glowing warmth in sensation only that promises to rise the water temperature once more to a comfortable hot they can indulge in over and over as long as they want. he leans his head back finally, lifting it up enough that he can look down into todoroki's face from beneath the choppy canopy of his ashen blonde bangs. that playful smile right there below him.

another round/ ... he kisses him hard. mouth to mouth, tongue diving inside immediately, replacing exhausted afterglow with explosively reignited passion as he makes out with todoroki for almost a full minute. head tilting, kiss deepening, mouth separating just enough for a panting breath before he kisses again with another motion and grind. over and over until he's completely satisfied and leaning over his boyfriend's face, tongue just barely tracing his lips.] Fuck me.

[hairsplit]

( his tongue is too loose, at times, and especially with bakugou, he's finding that this happens more often than he would like it to. there's something about the space between them that feels, ironically, safer than others, as though sharing these intimate moments with him means that it's a safe place, a place where he doesn't have to think so hard about what he says, or think so hard about what he doesn't say, or what he shouldn't share, or what should be kept timid and silent in the back of his throat. even in the beginnings of their friendship, he had felt that way--mostly because he knew that bakugou would never say something he didn't mean, or would never encourage him or guide him to a place that wasn't honest. rather, even when he would repeat stupid things or methodically nag about something, bakugou would explode with only his honest reaction--and to him, even those moments of getting yelled at were special, a different kind than the ones he experienced at home.

he can feel it here, too: he's waiting for bakugou to tell him he's fucking ridiculous, or to shut up and stop ruining the moment; he knows that he shouldn't be interrupting, shouldn't be giving suggestions when the real option is to lay there, content and warm and pressed together, but there's something about bakugou that makes him want to take care of him, something about him that makes him want to check to be sure that he's doing the right thing. being friends is one thing, and he's still learning how to be one for everyone else, but being a boyfriend is something that goes so far beyond even his meager confidence in having friends and making friendships; if he messes something up, will bakugou leave? will he ruin everything because he suggested they put soap in the bath?

no, that's going a little too far. the smile on his face is still there, humbled by his own thoughts, but when bakugou towers over him, bending down to meet his mouth with his--he thinks that maybe he didn't ruin anything at all. maybe it's a good thing, being a little dumb about things like this.

because bakugou's mouth meets his and their tongues tangle, their mouths meet and he finds that he can't breathe under the intensity of it; there's a flash of heat into the bath, his hands grappling for bakugou's hips, squeezing over them, rocking into him as they kiss and touch and make out like there's no need for anything else: no need for air, no need for space, no need for clean bath water or even any acknowledgement of where they are except for the fact that they're in a love hotel, doing exactly what they're meant to be doing. it might have been the worst way to end up in one, but he's slowly finding himself pleased with the fact that they ended up here at all.

by the time they break apart, he's panting, lips pink and warm, tongue swiping out to taste the kiss on his mouth, to taste bakugou's saliva there, to taste the heat; the words make it even worse, a full-body shiver that goes from shoulders to arms to chest to hips, and it's a little uncomfortable, the flare of arousal with his dick still trapped, stubbornly, up against bakugou's body, rubbed gently against his cheeks, his balls, encased in the heat of the bath and his body. it's the most delicious thing he's felt since that orgasm, and his fingers flex in again, a squeeze at bakugou's hips in encouragement and quiet possession. )

In the bed. ( this is his own command, quiet and sure. ) I want you on your back.

( just the thought of it inspires another complicated tangle of arousal, heat pooling between his legs. )

[blastedass]

[he initially hated todoroki. for his icy demeanor and refusal to talk, for his power that appeared so overwhelming at first sight, for the entire package of his good looks, attitude, and strength that made him feel, for the first time in his life, like he was less than someone else. then he learned about him. fought him, spent time with him, joined him, and saw just how hard the guy was trying to improve, to change, to free himself from shackles he never should've had. he came to admire and respect the guy. so there's a certain victory that comes with hearing todoroki's tongue when it's loose, knowing that he's finally breaking from that ice and learning to be flesh and blood once more. it's that desire to be "normal" that helps ease his own perfectionist rules while he's with the taller hero. that if todoroki's being who he wants, easing up and finding him safe to just... be around, then he can too. whether that's sleeping beside him, panting lewd encouragements, or clashing in the field to get stronger. todoroki's a comfort, not someone to hold back around, someone he can be truthful to himself with... not that he's going to drop his tough guy attitude all the time around him.

but there are things that still piss him of about todoroki. that lack of confidence in their relationship is one thing. because it reflects on a lack of confidence in him. to think there'd be worry over him leaving just because todoroki does something stupid or makes a mistake or oversteps an assumption. he's not some weakling who changes his mind! he didn't agree to be todoroki's boyfriend based on a "try out" period! if he's going to do something, he's going to do it all the way, give it 100% percent, and grasp it with all the strength and confidence he can! he accepted todoroki as his boyfriend because he wants to be with the guy. no matter how much the other hero will inevitably piss him off because of how different they are. it's something todoroki will one day trust more strongly than now. even if the blonde is his usual grumpy sejf about getting interrupted, or being coddled, or making mistakes.

it's one reason why he's so adamant about looming over the other hero and kissing him, caging him in with the intensity that proves how much he wants to be here with him. lips to lips, teeth to teeth, biting at him amid the kiss as he soaks in todoroki's presence and pins him down with his own. there's hardly a time they're like this that he would ever say is ruined. only griped about if they hit and exceed a limit, which spills over into the following day.

a brief burst of telltale heat indicates todoroki's quirk momentarily flaring up. all because he's kissing him, something that stokes the blonde's ego good and hard. hands grab at his hips and he answers with a hard palm against todoroki's shoulder, holding on and copping feels without hesitation. his other's content to cup at his jaw, drag him up into the kiss as much as he's barreling down into this oral claim. he wants to shove this feeling so far down todoroki's throat, he'll brand it into his gullet and guts. this desire and want, a promise that he's not going anywhere, not leaving him, not growing tired of him ever. he stopped thinking about the reality of their situation a while ago. probably to their detriment, but there's nothing else they can really do. the stake out's become a make out and he can't be fucked to care about anything else right now save for todoroki. tongue, taste, touch, tease...

he leans back just enough to put a tiny filament of space between their mouths, where breath and saliva can still intermingle as tongues slip out to taste the glossy remains. still so close that sweeping slick muscle runs against his own. heavy breaths, flushed faces, lips a little kiss swollen, their bodies pressed flush together transmitting the head to toe shudder of pleasure. it's a good feeling, hot and amazing. he should care about how todoroki's dick remains trapped against his ass, his balls neglected even as the blonde's cock ruts still-hard against those amazing abdominal muscles of his boyfriend's. he wants him. wants him more now than he did at the beginning, impossibly enough. you'd think an orgasm or two would make it die down, but apparently not. fucking love hotel. the possessive grip at his hips and those heated words are enough to kick him into action. commanding him, both a turn on and spur.]

Thought I told you not to order me around. [so he says as his dick jumps against todoroki's stomach in excitement and arousal from his boyfriend's command. they had their first time together face to face after all. with a rush of water, he pushes himself up, standing to his feet over todoroki as the bath water pours down his skin and splashes back into the bath in front of his boyfriend's body. it's a hell of a show and he doesn't mind at all, erect cock bobbing between his thighs and almost smacking the other hero in the face. so what. he's seen it. done more than seen it. with one wet hike of his leg after the other, he steps out of the bath, sluicing water onto the rug around the rim. just to give some space so todoroki can follow him. he's probably not even going to dry off before they're on the bed.]

[hairsplit]

( the words cut through the fog of arousal, harsh and low, but for whatever they slice through, the movements of bakugou's body seem to knit them back together again, as though he's not particularly against the idea at all--and as bakugou edges back up to his feet, drawn out of the bath water, he can see precisely why.

there's always been something embarrassingly desirable about seeing the way that bakugou reacts to him: he can easily take the insults, the yelling through text, the ridicule of his ideas or his answers or even, on some days, the bid to be left alone, and at first it had felt funny, a warm, tickling feeling of perverse pleasure in having bakugou's attention at all. it isn't as though he's possessive of it, at least not to that extent: he respects bakugou's friendship with midoriya, and respects that there are some places where he'll never quite measure up to the cheeky way that someone like kaminari or kirishima can come in close, arms swinging, and drape themselves all over bakugou in the common room. but it's different, when it's like this: different, because he's different, because they're different, because there's a large jump between friendship and a relationship that he hadn't realized would be quite so large until they got there.

until he saw what he could do to bakugou's body, and what bakugou could do to him.

it's almost embarrassing, the way that this feels even worse than those desperate bids for arousal during their first time, messed around in the showers at the dorm--it feels worse in the sense that he wants it that much more, that bakugou coming up onto his feet, towering over him in the bath, makes him want to reach for his hips and topple him back down again. it would be pointless, and precisely against the words that he'd said himself, the command that he'd let loose from his tongue, but it's hard to remember that when he's nearly face to face with the hot length of bakugou's hard cock, framed just slightly away from his face.

with a slow swallow, he forces himself to palm his hands against the edges of the tub, gripping at them to keep himself seated. he waits, watches, follows bakugou's movements as he steps out of the tub entirely, feet onto the half-soaked mat that's soggy with the bathwater they'd sloshed over onto it previously. he studies the curve of bakugou's back, the narrow dip of his waist, the sharp, enticing shape of his ass--and he immediately pushes his weight into his palms, lifting himself out of the bath with just enough finesse to at least hit the drain to work the water out. the sound of it staring to spiral down, sloshed along the sides of the tub, is the only warning he gives before he's stepping behind bakugou onto the rug, slinging a cold arm around his middle to rope him in against him. )

Do you want a towel? ( he says, murmured somewhere into the side of bakugou's wet neck, murmured somewhere against the edges of his wet hair; he holds him there, back to chest, holds him up against him and finds he's entirely too reluctant to let him go again, despite the fact that--yet again--this contradicts his previous command. maybe he should have thought about this more. maybe bakugou shouldn't have gotten out of the bath looking like a model--the thought makes his breath pan out into a faint, soundless chuckle against his neck. if he said that out loud, stupidly, he knows it wouldn't go well. ) I'll get one.

( he doesn't really care if the bed gets wet, but it's the principle of the thing. reluctantly, he lets his arm drop, a ghost of icy fingers against the taut skin of bakugou's stomach as he moves away from him, heading to gather up two of the complimentary towels and drape them over his arm, fully intending to let bakugou head out of the bathroom ahead of him--at least, that's what his expression says as he turns back to him, gives one quirk of a brow, and waits, patience outweighing the stiff electric jump in his veins at seeing bakugou's naked, wet body there. )

[blastedass]

[he trusts that about todoroki; no matter what he says (generally) the other boy's able to figure out the truth behind his words. growling about "orders" given, yelling at his boyfriend's mess ups, grumbling from a flushed face over compliments, or the quiet admission of affection and attraction, he's never an easy person to figure out until you know him. todoroki knows him better than most. it's annoying, but comforting at the same time.

so he stands in front of him, shameless in exposing his body to the guy he climbed into the bath with. showing him just what kind of effect todoroki's words and attention has on him. not all physical, though obviously conveyed through the red dusting his cheeks and hardness standing above his thighs. of course he finds todoroki desirable, enough to want him all for himself, a feeling he keeps tempered because the jealous boyfriend is not a trope he wants to be known for. there are plenty others important to todoroki's life, from his close friendship with midoriya who saved todoroki more than the blonde ever has, to iida who gave his all to help protect his classmate's life and still fosters that respect held towards todoroki, to kaminari who doesn't care who he's flopping his arms over and grinning cheeky things into their ear. yet when he's with todoroki, everything between them is unique and special, something no one else can come close to. it's different, the space between friend and boyfriend, and that's something he'll selfishly guard forever.

but damn, it'd be a lie to say he doesn't appreciate what he can call from todoroki's body. just standing up in front of him, on purpose, has those mismatched eyes locked onto his hips, as if the focus of his boyfriend's world spirals into a single point emblazoned before him. arousal, desire, want, need, he's momentarily expecting to be caught around the hips by those strong hands and either hauled forward with that warm mouth sheathing about his cock, or unceremoniously dropped right back into the water to make good on a previously-bed-backed command in the bath instead. if someone told him he'd be able to drag such visceral responses from that frozen prick walking through u.a.'s halls at the start of the year, he would've blasted them out the window for being fucking stupid. now look at him... at them...

todoroki's physically refusing to follow until he's cleared from the bath's perimeter. it's endearing and arousing together to know he's trying so damn hard not to let lust and passion overrule his want. reaching up, he scuffs a hand through the back of his hair, flinging tiny droplets of water all over since he's still damp from the chest up and soaked from the chest down. dripping water around his feet as it trails over his torso and legs. he should go to the bed, but it's far more alluring to stand here and look over his shoulder at his boyfriend's biceps flexing the moment he decides to haul himself out of the tub. a sight he refuses to miss even for the bed. red eyes trail in clear desire down the sculpture of todoroki's torso, following streams of water funneling into the narrow angle of his waist, how droplets fall and fling from his fingers and balls, sloshing liquid off his ankles as his feet brace on the rug they're both leaving soaked by now. water never hurt a handsome man, the saying goes...]

No. [a cold arm ropes about his stomach and he's drawn back, pressing flush against todoroki's chest and stomach as the water glues them together in the warm bathroom air. without hesitation, he steps back one leg, hooks his ankle about the back of his boyfriend's, and swings an arm up and behind him to cup the back of todoroki's head, fingers threading into drenched hair while that warm mouth nuzzles into the side of his neck. holding him there just as needing, feeling his body molded to his own, similar to their press together in the shower earlier. selfish, greedy, who cares about what was commanded earlier. it's todoroki's fault for being so damn attractive when he's wet. the quiet little laugh and prompt to get a towel...]

Tch. [grumbling, he lets his arm fall, fingers skimming a brief touch down todoroki's shoulder and upper arm as the other boy leaves him to go get the damn towels. shouldn't just kept him there. only after their bodies are no longer melded together does he finally make for the door, heedless of the water he trails and wet footprints left behind on the tiles. the carpet in the room's a nice sensation on his soles, though hell if either of them want to know what's been deep cleaned out of this room from ceiling to floor during its existence. a mirror across from him shows the clear image of todoroki following him out of the bathroom, capturing the red lights glistening in water beads on his nude figure and highlighting this stupidly beautiful man he's fallen in love with.

annoying how fast he makes his blood run. stopping at the bed, he reaches an arm behind him, though whether it's for the towel or for his boyfriend is up to todoroki to decide.] Give.

[hairsplit]

( going to school to become a hero means enduring all kinds of tests: they've practiced all kinds of bizarre things, fought against other students and villains alike, done work studies and strange class field trips for training, and yet sometimes it feels like nothing will ever come quite as close as the test of his patience, the test of his endurance, and the test of his will power that being near bakugou, like this, makes. at one time, a long time ago, he'd thought that trying to understand bakugou at all had been something of a test, in the same way that he'd never really understood himself, never really understood his own dreams, his own desires, letting them be trampled and pushed down under the overbearing presence of his father's desires for him. bakugou had been a person he couldn't figure out, at first--and truthfully, someone he had almost been willing to brush aside.

it's different, now. the more time they spent together, the more he came to understand him just as he came to understand himself--the more he craved that time together, craved the moments where he could interact with him, craved the text messages, the playful arguments, and the slow, careful path to flirting. in the end, it became less about tolerating the test of his own patience against bakugou's sharp tongue, and more about tolerating the test of his own patience in terms of imagining bakugou's tongue everywhere else. a shameful thing to think about, to imagine, to use a classmate, a friend, for that kind of fantasy--for that kind of imagination, but even there, his willpower could only hold out for so long.

here, his willpower can also only hold out for so long. bakugou steps out of the bathroom, towards the bed, and he trails behind him slowly, forcing his steps to be measured, forcing his hands to muss with the towels in his arms rather than reach for him. by the time bakugou makes it to the end of the bed, he's half-thinking of pushing him right down over the edge of it, forcing him to bend in at the middle, and bend himself down over him; bashfulness keeps him away from action, and in answer, he comes to a stop just behind bakugou.

and, of course, he solemnly hands him one of the towels. )

Hmmn. ( forcing his gaze away from bakugou's wet body, he focuses on himself: focuses on toweling himself off, routine and mediated, patting his arms, his chest, his stomach and back up again, ruffling at wet hair. ) This is...all complimentary, right?

( so he says as he's working a few steps around the large, alarming width of the bed, heading towards one of the bedside tables so that he can he can take a look at all the goodies, there. some of the things, neatly lined up and prepared, make him heat: his cheeks flush, briefly, before he forces it down again; one hand continues toweling at the ends of his hair, while the other flicks long fingers through condoms, tissue packets, and small plastic lube samplers. it's obvious he's curious, having never been exposed to these kinds of things before--he's mostly learning as he goes.

with the help of one person in particular. he gently tugs a condom out from the basket, lifting it up, holding it near his shoulder as he turns, wordless, as though he's asking bakugou if he wants him to use it. )

[blastedass]

[todoroki's going to give him a big(ger) head if he compares being around him to the same kind of stress and trial that all those school and villain activities have brought them. not that it's easy for him to resist the draw he feels towards the other hero whenever heat flares between them and they're unable to deal with it until later. leaving him pulling at his leash, chomping at the bit, growling in his head over the tension between his thighs that has to wait while todoroki's right fucking there. which is ironic, considering when he first met the taller boy, he hated his fucking guts. the icy demeanor, those cold eyes, the sheer awe of his quirk that made him, for the first time, realize he couldn't compete with someone else who was supposed to be below him. and yet, he learned about todoroki, learned from him, enough to watch over him, rival him (even if one sided), and finally fall for him. he still hasn't said those words, but he's not going to drag just anyone into the shower for a blowjob, or sleep beside any old acquaintance in the same bed.

it's not like he's immune to those thoughts while they're separated. the first time he found himself drifting away from his schoolwork and onto the sight of todoroki opening his shirt one button at a time, he exploded in rage, embarrassed and aroused all at once. but as time moved on and their relationship grew, he came to accept those thoughts, look forward to the time they got to spend together whether neutral or carnal, accept texts that would've left him snarling and blocking the idiot's number, and figuring out whether todoroki was trying to flirt with him or just being weird. as well as letting himself think about that shirt falling away, hands sliding the zipper down his pants, shedding clothes one after another until todoroki was splayed out naked before him and he was left gripping his own dick on his bed and cussing between grit teeth because the other boy wasn't in his fucking room to make that fantasy a reality.

could todoroki have slotted right up against his back, dripping wet and half hard? could he see himself getting bent over at the waist and pressed into the bed as todoroki molded against his back and ass to lean over him and impale him once again? yeah, but he's not doing that, now is he. instead, the towel's passed over and he takes it, rubbing at the side of his neck almost immediately to wipe away some water tickling towards the dip behind his collarbone. if they ended up on the bed, a tangle of dripping limbs and wet bodies, soaking the bed into a promise of cool discomfort later, he wouldn't have said anything, likely far too busy with his mouth pressing to todoroki's.

but instead, he's toweling off, running it under his chin, down his chest, across his shoulders, hand winding about his own arm and down his hips to wipe away the water droplets doing things to his muscles that todoroki's tongue and hands had done earlier. he occasionally steals a glimpse over his shoulder at the other hero as he dries off, watching the towel trail over his chest, stomach, arms, neck, as it drags his eyes from one attractive point to another. hot. todoroki's very hot. even when he's scuffing at his hair with the towel, leaving it in a rare state of semi-tousled that he finds stupidly attractive. what is it seen the perfect guy look a little not so perfect that makes "he's handsome" turn into "he's fucking gorgeous" every time?]

How the fuck should I know?! I don't come here!! [he assumes it is. it's a fucking love hotel. what kind of idiots would charge that much, then 100 yen you to death on towels and shampoo? he drapes the towel around his neck, hair still a damp explosion of spikes, and quirks a brow when todoroki peers into the bedside table. yeah, didn't think he'd find a damn travel guide and some mints in there, huh. he follows to wind up at todoroki's side, looking down into the drawer with him as the other boy's fingers wander through the items. there's still that cabinet on the other side of the room, probably full of sex toys and other items of the trade... he leans back when todoroki straightens up and glances at the condom with the unspoken question hovering over it.

and promptly swats it out of his boyfriend's hand with a smart smack.] Don't mess with me. I've fucking swallowed you.

[if he can take him in his mouth and stomach (and on his face and chest and hands and-) he can take him in his ass.]

[hairsplit]

( his lips purse--it's so hard, and so strange, that he has to fight the quirk of a smile when bakugou adamantly refuses to accept the condom. sometimes it feels like treading the line of sheer stupidity, at times, the way that bakugou makes him feel--the way that he feels like he could keep smiling around him, smiling at even the smallest things, when it's never been a habit of his at all, never been something he felt like he could do freely, and without any kind of admonishment at all. even when he'd been a child, he'd slowly lost sight of that feeling; the smiles he used to wear became forced, and then the forced smiles became distant, and then eventually he stopped smiling at all. it had taken a long time to let them escape again, unbidden, and a longer time to feel comfortable with them--he wouldn't say it, wouldn't want to embarrass himself with it, but he thinks that most of their friends would probably be stunned to hear him say that bakugou is the person that makes him smile most of all.

there's a soft, pleased sort of clearing of his throat, like he's biting back the urge to laugh, as he offers a solemn nod. he plucks up the condom from where it landed, tucking it back neatly into place in the drawer. )

Right. Then...

( his fingertips continue their wandering, but this time, he's focused on the other offerings--there are so many kinds of lube in this drawer that it's truly alarming to him, only in the sense that he has no idea what he should be looking for, or what he should be going with. it's been easy enough at the dorm, given that they only have the option of what bakugou has in his room, something that he'd trusted him with, implicitly, without asking any questions. but here, it feels like he should take advantage of trying something they can't do, normally--here, his lips purse, thoughtful, as he reads labels, surprised, and tucks ideas into the back of his head, things to look up later, things to think over when he's alone.

finally, he snags a sampler between his knuckles, drags it out of the drawer before bakugou can see it. honestly, it's a little funny, all things considered--and perhaps a little useless, but he snags it into his palm, hides the entirety of it as he flattens it, playfully, against his own naked chest. )

...get on your back, Katsuki.

( amusement wars with the thick command in his voice--this close, he wants to turn at the hip and kiss him, wants to take his face in both hands and run his fingers through his wet hair, cascading out the messy strands into dripping wet spikes. he wants to run his hands over his chest, dip his fingers in at all the sensitive ridges of muscle, wants to wander his palms over the memories of gut-wrenching injuries that he refuses to think about, refuses to worry against.

but he wants this, too. he wants to stretch the tension between them until it's taut like a guitar string, wants to drag his fingers down it and pluck the sound from it, wants to thrum against it so hard that it threatens to snap. he wants to see bakugou outstretched on the mattress, naked and wanting--he wants to see his skin against the rich colors of the sheets, wants to see him there waiting for him, just him, in a place where there's no interruptions, no need to rush, no reason for them to do anything but take their time.

it's possessive, and a little stupid, maybe. but he wants to soak up the sight of bakugou like this, wants to lock it into his memories, wants to close his eyes later and remember what he looked like, there, half-hard and waiting for him. )

[blastedass]

[if he's the one that can get shouto to show that kind of smile, he'll take that as a damn victory. midoriya may have been the one to break through all that ice and get the guy to realize he's made of flesh and blood, but there's more to it than that, more that he hadn't even realized was due to himself until he and shouto came together in that heated rush beneath the shower stream. when he realized that focus of his own life had somehow been called to the side by this person, called and captured until it was thoughts of shouto that linger in his head at nights, images of him that bring a soft smile to his lips when no one's looking, his presence that can make his heart beat harder and his blood run faster, until he's fucking embarrassing himself with how much this guy can affect him. bastard... and shouto problem knows it too. smacking that condom out of his hand is one more piece of evidence to how much he likes the guy.

red eyes narrow, daring the taller boy to let that little laugh out of his throat. he'll smack something else if shouto does. once the condom's back in the drawer, he faces him with a heated gaze that runs one place to the next, not sure where he wants to look, but knowing he wants to see everything.]

Now what? [he's standing right here and shouto's busy pawing his way through the stupid drawer?! is it really that interesting? if the kind that's usually hidden in between the blonde's mattress and bed frame isn't in the drawer, then just pick one and go with it! lube isn't a big deal. well, unless it has one of those ridiculously-overpowering scents that make the entire room smell like a fucking flower market. more often than not, he's too impatient to deal with lube and snarls at shouto to either use saliva or just shove it in with precum alone. which then has him yelling about something else later... tch, so long as his boyfriend's not going to baste him like a damn turkey, lube's fine.

an ashen brow arches up when shouto suddenly makes a selection and palms the thing before he can even see it. what the hell kind of trickery does he think he's pulling here?! only to tense up at the command. lips draw back in an irritated snarl at that amused tone, one hand whipping his towel at shouto.]

Don't order me around!

[even as he does what's told of him. turning at the shoulder and hip, legs following before sinking down on the bed behind him. only a sink push of his hands bounces him backwards onto the mattress before he lowers himself. ass to spine to shoulder blades to shoulders, lying on the bed and stretched out beneath his boyfriend's eyes. heat blooms across his face as he lifts his arms over his head, biceps and triceps flexing with the action of settling them against the wet spikes of his still-damp hair. it's embarrassing, arousing, knowing he's presenting himself completely to shouto. from the way his chest arches slightly against the sheets, defined pectorals hardening under a few beads of water, abdominal wall clenching over his stomach with glimmering residue from the shower collected in his navel and betwixt the groove of each hill, narrow hips and carved v lines dragging towards his half-erect member and heavy balls, one leg tented slightly at the knee to make the lines of his thigh and curve of his calf accented as the other leg stretches out below him. pristine and clean, save for the scars left over his body from the battles and wars, prominent on his shoulder, chest, and side.

let shouto look, if he's going to command him to lie down like this. see if he can handle it. if he wants to stretch the tension and flaunt his control, the blonde's going to do the same and remind him he's "letting" this happen (so he says) until the taller boy is wrung tight with desire. but he can't wipe it from his face entirely, the burning flush covering his cheek bones, the way his red eyes blown wide with desire as they take in the sight of his lover before him. wanting him. his touch. his words. his breath. his attraction. his desire. backlit by the carnal crimson of the bedding below his light skin and ashen blonde hair, he's left on full display, nothing but himself in defiant offering to the man who told him to lie down. daring him to look at him like this and take his time, but knowing he's going to bitch if shouto doesn't do exactly that. you asked, you look, you enjoy, then you take.]

You're drooling, Shouto.

[hairsplit]

( it's the reaction he expected--the reaction that earns one of those smiles, faint and sincere, as he cringes a little, takes the swat of the towel and lets it fall to the ground. it feels strange, thinking of this place, about how they can leave things a wet mess everywhere and no one will bat an eye--he's so used to being careful, so used to tossing their clothes and towels smartly into the right laundry bins, so used to edging himself out of bakugou's doorway to ensure no one is lingering in the hallway to catch him. it's oddly freeing, in a way, knowing that no matter what happens here, no one will know but the two of them, and whatever guesses the staff might want to make about them: but even that doesn't bother him at all. it's exciting and a little naughty, thinking of all the secrets they share between them now; it's a contented, possessive sort of realization to know that these are things neither of them will ever share with anyone else at the dorm. even if bakugou eventually gets tired of him, he'll get to keep these memories to himself.

so he lets his own towel drop, along the side of the bed to the floor--they might need it later, but there are plenty of tissues at the bedside, too. there had been a time where being naked in front of bakugou had been a little embarrassing--but it says a lot about how he feels that he doesn't even really think of it, anymore, doesn't think it matters at all when he moves closer to the side of the bed, bare legs brushing against the covers. and in the end, nothing really matters when bakugou is easing back onto the bed like that, spreading himself out on the sheets just like he asked him to do. just like he ordered him to do.

somehow, he hadn't expected that. watching smooth skin and tight muscle arch itself out across the covers, a wet head of hair that hits the pillows, the flex of strong arms, and the long, lean line of bakugou's body--it stirs something in him, the same something that had him gripping possessive hands around bakugou's middle, hauling him back against his body in the shower. it's not the first time that he's thought bakugou can be truly and honestly beautiful, in a way: not in the sense of long lashes and dainty fingers and shapely curves, but beautiful in the way that his body reflects all of his hard work, a vessel for all of that fiery determination and strength that drives him crazy. beautiful in the way that his eyes flash, a maelstrom of desire and expectation, the way that his lips part with breath, the way that his cheeks flare with the faint embarrassment of putting himself on display. he doesn't think he should say it out loud--at this point, he'd probably get a pillow thrown at his head.

but he's watching. watching, rapt and silent--watching, his gaze blown out over the shape of bakugou's body on the mattress, and when he says you're drooling, shouto he isn't even sure that it's really a tease. the hand not palming the little packet of lube lifts up, brushes shamelessly against his chin as though to catch any kind of drool that might be there, and finds nothing, lips pressing out just slightly in a put-upon sort of pout. )

I'm not. ( soft, adamant, embarrassed--but he dips a knee into the mattress, and then the next, sliding and working himself up in between bakugou's thighs, which he spreads with a deft touch to one side, and then the next, forcing his knees to tent. ) But you can't blame me even if I was.

( he wants to lean down, tower over him and close his lips over bakugou's mouth, lock him into a kiss that will force him into the pillows--but he waits, sitting back on his legs; he waits, and instead, goes to tear the tab off the lube with his teeth, hands working between bakugou's thighs to smear the contents, messy and cool, against his palm and fingers in a place where bakugou will have to sit up to see. maybe he's being just a little cheeky--or still trying to pull that tension until it snaps. )

You want me, right?

[blastedass]

[despite the nature of how they got here, it's hard to deny the pleasure taken in being able to so freely be with the man he loves. no need to be quiet over the inconvenience of someone hearing them, or having to walk separately places to avoid their classmates spotting and taunting them (because they know they're together; they're not stupid), or getting dressed before hitting the bed and inevitably losing their clothes once again. in this place, only he and todoroki are the ones they have to be concerned with. whatever happens is between them, they can do and say whatever the hell they want to each other and no one else is going to know. lewd, erotic, sexy, hot, all that and more can exude between them with unrestricted permission, branding themselves into his mind with steaming impacts he'll never forget nor get tired of. embarrassing? fuck yes! worth it? of course. a turn on? stop asking stupid questions. yes. getting to see todoroki in this kind of setting, in the current state he's in, is a privilege he doesn't plan to pass up.

the towel falls away and he jabs his elbows into the bed to prop himself up, head tilted on his neck as his eyes burn beneath the damp spikes of his bangs. a while ago, he would've yelled at the guy to cover up outside the shower/bath, but now, the brazen shedding of that material, baring himself to his eyes, is a welcome invitation and promise all for him. there's no further embarrassment in todoroki's eyes, no hesitation as he moves from his place on the floor to the side of the bed on quiet feet, until his shins brush the covers and a supple knee presses to the satin surface. giving him all of todoroki to indulge in visually, red gaze raking over him top to bottom and jumping from one attractive point to the next. it's never been a secret the boy is considered the most attractive in their class...

attractive is a hollow word that doesn't do todoroki justice. right now, he's seeing that in pure form. a gorgeous young man whose physical beauty stands unmatched. not some flushing maiden, but a strong hero with a figure born testament of the intense training and strength honing his power within. how many times has he traced the lines of his throat, touched the curves of his chest as breath fills his lungs, felt the cut of his stomach pressed to his own, or the flex of limber arms and legs hooking around his shoulder, middle, thighs, wherever todoroki can hold onto him in that possessive grip that makes his mind run red for so many reasons. mismatched eyes blown wide in lust and arousal, lips parted slightly to give way to a silent, heavy breath, shamelessly standing there nude and perfect as he takes him in without guilt. want. of course he wants him. more than anything right now.]

Not there, idiot. [even if he's damn right drooling in his mind from the way those eyes ravenously run across his body, laid out on the bed as presented offering to the young man he's given himself to, and makes fight for him each time. that soft voice, laden with stubborn and shy, proves just how "drooling" he very much is, and his eyes snap down to the soft grind of knee against the mattress, how it makes the lines of todoroki's thigh shift beneath his fair skin, hardens his calf behind his joint, brings the heel of his foot upward into view and makes a visceral display of his boyfriend climbing onto the bed. towards him. onto him. until his warm body is between his thighs, the inside of his calves and shins brushing at the outside of todoroki's because the taller boy deliberately spreads his legs enough to fill out the space between them... and he loves it. even as one knee digs under his own, forcing him to finally tent his joint upward and lift his knee to allow todoroki access beneath it. and the other, the instep of his feet finally settling on the backs of his boyfriend's ankles to keep him trapped between the now-arched angles of legs.]

I'll blame you all I want. [half-distracted by the raw sight of todoroki taking the rim of the lube between his teeth and tearing it off, much to his face-flushed twitch-dicked interest. fuck, that shouldn't be as hot as it is, and yet his blood's running twice as fast, his muscles visibly tighten in interest, and his throat dips behind a hard swallow as wider red eyes stare up at todoroki's towering presence over him. a god between his thighs, preparing for a ritual where they become one again and again... and he wants to see. enough that he finally earns himself a snarl before pushing up from his elbows onto his hands instead, bracing them behind his body so he can lift himself onto his lower back and finally grant himself the privilege to see todoroki's actions between his legs.] Of course I fucking do.

[hairsplit]

( his lips part, and for a moment, brows tent as though in confusion--until he realizes precisely what bakugou must mean, with those words. drooling. right.

is that better, or worse? his cheeks tint, a faint pink of embarrassment, but he doesn't mind it, doesn't care if bakugou's staring at him, staring at his mouth, staring at his body or staring at the point of contact where he is, without any concern, drooling with interest; it's a typical thing between them, his thoughts always taking bakugou's words and dragging them into a different direction with utter confidence, until bakugou himself drags him back with complaint. with anyone else, his missteps and his confusion and his social awkwardness can become a point of uncomfortable tension--he doesn't like disappointing others, doesn't like forcing them to explain themselves, doesn't like testing their patience. for some people, like izuku, there's a warmth to the way they talk, a heat that tells him he's just fine to show up how he is, strange, colliding thoughts and all; or people like kirishima, who take his miscommunication with a warm grin and follow him along his train of odd thought as though it's a path to take together.

bakugou's always smartly dragging him right back to where he should be. and he's always enjoyed it, a little, enjoyed the way that bakugou's personality can heat up, explode, jerk them down another seemingly different path, together. for all that he's heard their other classmates deem him hard to deal with, he's always found it comfortable to be together with bakugou, to call him his friend despite protest--and now, to call him something more than that, to surprisingly no protest at all.

so he doesn't mind, in the end. a soft, small little smile, bashful, and that's the end of that thought; his hand is busy, slick and wet between them, but rather than go for bakugou's body, he cants a hand down the length of his own cock, gripping it with firm fingers, sliding from base to tip with a slow pass of interest. the packet of lube's spent now, smeared all over his palm, down his fingers, and some is on the bedsheets beneath him--he figures that's fine, given where they are, and he abandons the empty packaging over the side of the bed, lost to the pile of wet towels. bakugou's sliding himself up, from elbow to palm and then bent at the middle, and he finds his gaze gone, from his own dick up to bakugou's stomach, along his chest, until finally settling in against that honed red gaze.

he gets one more smile: but it's less soft, something heated and sure, something that can practically taste bakugou's breath between them, can imagine the feeling of their lips pressed together in earnest. it pulses a heat down through him, tangled into the complicated excitement past his stomach; his cock tenses a little, twitching slightly in the hold of his own fingers. )

I want you, too. ( quietly--it doesn't have to be said, and no matter how flippant, how heated, how argumentative bakugou is, he always wants to answer him like this, answer him with solid reassurance, answer him despite not needing an answer at all. ) I want you. I really want you.

( like this, spread between his thighs--like this, staring into the heat of his gaze. like later, when they'll tangle into sheets and each other's arms, high off orgasm; like the morning, where he'll wake up and put his fingers through bakugou's hair and kiss him awake. in some ways it's absolutely terrifying to realize that this is one person who he might just love, a concept that's felt so foreign to him, something that he's never really learned how to understand. every bit of it, between his parents, between his siblings, between all of them, had been so twisted and painful, a farce created off a pretty ideal. is he even capable of loving something without hurting it? is it fair, to allow himself to fall so thoroughly?

with a shallow breath, his hand slides, a palm that rubs over the head of his cock and then down, further, dipping between bakugou's legs. slick fingertips brush, a shiver down the length of bakugou's dick, a warm, wet hand that cups at his balls, wrist twisted to ghost his palm down against the curve of his ass. lips pressed together, he tips forward a little--somewhat in challenge, somewhat to start to unbalance bakugou, as if he might flatten him down to the mattress again, but his fingers bend and angle, and it's the smooth confidence of knowing what he's doing here, at least, that lets him keep going. a finger that teases, gently pressing along the perineum, slicked through to find the hole past there and arch his fingertip in against it before slipping it inside--and then, after just a moment, add in the tip of his middle finger, too, plunging forward at a slow pace. )

[blastedass]

[he knew what he was getting himself into when he finally accepted those feelings. a relationship. and beyond that, it was all trial and error banking on a boat of growing familiarity. what he knew of todoroki was what he went off of, the social awkward boy with a true heart. the same went in reverse the moment the other teenager accepted that extended hand. a loud, brash, confident boy with an anger and pride issue that growls in annoyance when his boyfriend's antics drive him up the damn wall. but no matter how confused or weird he finds todoroki, there's more to him than that. impossible to deny the attraction to his earnest nature and strength, physically, quirk, and character. some people might be questioning how the two ended up together, but he's never cared about what other people think. like that at least. they can fuck off. he has better things to do than deal with those damn extras. a number of said "things" include todoroki now.

even if he has to drag the boy by the proverbial collar or back of his head out of his stupor into the present again. there's something charming about handling a guy who's so "new" to the world, fascinated or curious about some of the most mundane crap he's ever seen. whether todoroki's marveling about arcades or pestering him about random questions that pop into his head, explosive response resulting, he's never found the guy so exasperating, it warrants punting him. because despite his temper, the blonde's fiercely loyal to those who earn his favor and trust, to say nothing of affection.

red eyes lock to the descent of todoroki's hand, following slick fingers down the firm backdrop of defined abdominal muscles until they reach the glistening head of his cock and finally wrap around the solid shaft. unbidden, he runs the tip of his tongue against the upper row of his teeth, breath coming out in a heated, silent rush of desire as his body reacts visibly to that sight in front of him. soft skin dragging upward towards todoroki's glans before sliding back down to pull taut as the base of his hand reaches the start of his balls. dripping lube off his cock and hanging sac onto the bed below, a lewd promise of exactly what he's agreed to. bastard, no one said todoroki could look so damn attractive pitching a stupid little packet of lube over his shoulder! ... or raze him with his mismatched eyes as those teal and slate irises wander up his body and finally lock with his own gaze. fuck.

his boyfriend really is a handsome man. that heated smile takes his breath and he wants to kiss him, devour that smile until torodorki's a breathless mess against his mouth as he wraps around him and traps him here with him. unable to escape, unable to get away as his arms and legs wrap about his body in a quartet of shackles that convey as much passion and attraction as he can give. arousal's a damn bitch sometimes when he feels like he can't get enough of the taller hero.

i want you too. he's heard those words before from todoroki's lips, but there's a heat to them now that lances him in the stomach, makes his dick jump and has him curling his toes in the sheets, one hand moving to rest his knuckle against his mouth like it might hide the flare of red heat blooming over his damn face.] Bastard... Who said you could talk to me like that?

[nevermind he's physically asking him to voice those desires. there's so much more they have in store for later, when worn out from the sex and passion, light creeping in through the window, a grumbling sound coming from his throat because this brat thinks he can wake him up while he's sleeping without any repercussions. one arm thrown over that trim waist in a protective loop so todoroki can sleep knowing he's there, with him, wanting him, holding him. possessive, protective, defensive. it's been so long since he's slept beside someone before this half-cold,half-hot dork came into his life. now the bed can feel too big and empty if he's not settled in beside the other boy at night. someday, he'll have to face that idea of love, but right now... this is fine to explore together, knowing it's only deepening with each instance.

todoroki trades his own dick for his hips, red eyes never once leaving the mismatched pair staring at him as he feels strong fingers settle on the underside of his shaft. his cock twitches under todoroki's fingertips and his breath catches in a gasp when the boy cups at his balls. he instantly grits his teeth, pretending that slip never happened, brows furrowing and daring his boyfriend to acknowledge that noise. before letting his breath out again as fingers slid ontothe curve of his ass. he lifts his hips slightly, both legs spreading a bit more and his feet planting flat on the bed to brace himself. almost in defiance as todoroki leans forward in a stupidly attractive threat to pin him down or start folding him in half, who the fuck knew which. one eye twitches in a slight wince as a single finger pushes between the muscular rounds of his cheeks, his perineum still tingling from that trailing touch along its path. god, he wants to tell him to shove the damn thing in! todoroki's already waiting long enough since getting out of the damn bath! there's a brief tension where tip probes his hole, puckered muscle clenching stubbornly against the intrusion... before wet pressure penetrates and slides inside.] Ngh-!

[why does getting fingered always contrast with todoroki thrusting his dick inside him from the st-] Ah- Fuck! [second finger! he jolts, eyes widening and one foot arching up on the ball as both hands fist in the pillows beside his head. hot muscle clenches down instinctively, squeezing at the pair working their way inside him slowly, letting him feel all those damn details.] You're taking... your time with this... brat.

[hairsplit]

( it would be an easy thing, to bend to bakugou's wishes. he's even done it countless times before, bowing to the snarled words or the mouthed commands, as though there is a certain part of him that worries, at times, that he might not be enough. if he doesn't give bakugou the kind of explosive pleasure that he's used to, will he go looking for it with someone else? if he doesn't learn how to do these things fast enough, with enough passion melted into them, will he get bored? it's easy to allow himself to fall into bakugou's wishes because sometimes they're exactly the things that he wants, too: mashing into a kiss until his lips feel hot and well-worn, grappling fingers over wet skin, over the shape of a hard dick, over his stomach, over his hips. but they're well-matched in stubbornness, and he's often going his own way despite himself: often declaring that one way is the better way, and leaning in that direction. it's something he's still learning to control, something he's still learning to relax about: after all, he spent so many of his years, hard-headed and blazing with anger, that it can be almost alarming to let go of that kind of self-preservation. to allow himself to bend to someone else's wishes, when he had spent so hard clawing his way out from beneath his father's firm desires.

this is something entirely different. bakugou says you're taking your time with this in that way he knows means something else entirely different, too: a way for bakugou to plead with him without pleading, a way for bakugou to bend to him, too. with a hot breath, pulsed into the space between them, his hand presses in smooth, the heel of his palm rubbed gently in against bakugou's balls as his fingers press in deeper, rubbing into him, circling with a small sliver of impatience that's threaded in now because of the sight of bakugou spread out beneath him. the way that his fingers dig into the pillows, the way that his mouth parts with breath, the way that his eyes glaze a little--he can feel all of that sliding down through him, clenching into a firm fist of arousal, his own brows knitting slightly against the impatient pulse of it. )

Don't you want it to be good? ( he says, but it's almost a tease: warm and slow, quiet and amused; with a dip of his head down, hiding beneath the damp tangle of his bangs, he clenches his jaw, rolls his fingers in, and tries to remember that he's doing this for a reason. ) Katsuki.

( patience is something that's been burned into him: something that, despite his upbringing, he's managed to measure out in spades. maybe it's because he always felt like he had to bide his time, always felt like he had to lock himself into the back of his thoughts, that he just had to make it one more hour of training, one more day of the week, one more week out of the month. as though there could be a day, someday, where all of it would fall away--as though he could find the end to the torture of living in that house, being under his father's watchful eye. he's never lost his patience with bakugou, despite the fact that he knows he's constantly trying bakugou's own patience: but he's always been thorough, firm, an unyielding, patient presence that could never be pushed away or brushed aside. maybe that's the positive to his stubborn nature.

but he doesn't drag things out, either. he wants bakugou as badly as he can tell bakugou wants him, the way he clenches in around his fingers--it takes a gentle probing, a curve of his fingertips, to encourage him to loosen just a little, enough that he can drag his hand back. his other palm is steady into the mattress at bakugou's side, holding himself up above him; with another swallow, he gives himself a rewarding pass of his palm over his own cock, squeezing it shamelessly as he guides it down between bakugou's thighs, the head of it knocked a little clumsily against his sac and then, nimbly, against the curve of his ass before he presses in further. he doesn't need that hand there, steadying his own cock: not when he can rub and tease the head of it in against that slicked entrance, bumping forward, forcing himself past that tight ring of muscle with a breath that catches, unbidden, in his throat.

his arm tents, weight jerked down onto his forearm, their chests closer together--his hips guide forward, sliding into the tight heat of bakugou's body, his head hanging between his shoulders, unable to look at bakugou as he rolls his way into him as though he might just lose it from something as simple as the way bakugou clenches in around him, as though refusing to let him go. )

[blastedass]

[the idea that todoroki wouldn't be enough for him never crosses his mind now. doubts are things he doesn't allow himself to entertain, second-guessing himself only permitted at the start. just like with todoroki. lying in bed at night, thinking of the sensation of his lips against his own, remembering the sight of his athletic body under the shower water, the sound of his deep voice resonating in his ears with those unsure but aroused words. he knew enough about todoroki to ask himself... would he be enough? did he think he'd continue to find more and more things about his potential boyfriend to stimulate his growth? was there something about the other hero that pissed him off so much he'd never want to see him again? did he have enough strength to stand up to him and clash, project his own desires and wants, fight for himself? will he continue to cling to todoroki, writhe under the drag of blunt nails over his sides, tilt his head back as skilled lips race over his throat, buck his hips to run his erect cock alongside the other boy's dripping arousal, and open his eyes to find todoroki's handsome face sleeping beside him the next morning, hair sex tousled and eyes closed in peace that were the furthest thing away from the lust-blown pupils and flushed face panting and groaning above him as their bodies connected... is all of this boy someone he thinks he can live with... forever...

he answered all those questions as best he could a long time ago. it's why he's here with him now. growling at him about taking his time, knowing todoroki understands the demanding plea behind that rough question. one molten breath and his own shoves out of him in a grunt of pleasure and sensation as a rounded hand base presses against his balls and two fingers slide further inside his ass with another slick squelch. his legs tent up at the knees as if caught by hooks, abdominal muscles harden under his glistening stomach thanks to those wicked digits drawing circles inside his body. he clenches up around him, purposeful and instinctive, inner muscles going smooth tunnel to a surrounding mass of hills that demand more entrance and immediate retreat simultaneously. todoroki's inside him, connected again... proving once more that the answer to many of those questions was "yes" - he wants to be with him. there's no reason to fear not being enough. because he doesn't go back on his word.]

It's already good, dammit! [hard to sound demanding when his breath it hitching in his throat and his dick's twitching eagerly between his thighs because someone's got his damn fingers painting circles behind his fucking abdomen. that clench of a jaw is all the warning he gets-] Agh-! [he drops his foot hard against his boyfriend's calf, stepping down and arching on the ball of it as pleasure and sensation race on his hips again.] S- Shoto!

[patience can also be a real pain in the ass. how many times has he not blown todoroki to the skies when he was raring to do so? racing beside him in the forest and snarling about getting in his way, yelling at him for walking in front of him to the stupid remediation course, hauling him up by the collar to scream at his semi-conscious face to fight back, pinning him against the wall in the shower in a rush of embarrassment and stubborn desire because he wanted him. yet he's never followed through with splattering him all over the ground. todoroki's strong, weathering all of it, until the storm passes and he's kissing him hard and firm beneath the shower spray, against the pillow, in the shadows of a jacket hood, naked and sweating on the bed as he pants out his name and swallows his fingers between his thighs. todoroki's as stubborn as he is and he loves it despite the crash. or perhaps due to that.

it's hard to relax himself and loosen up, even with those gentle coaxing motions inside. throbbing with heat and gripping at his tips and joints to get in further. finally, reluctantly letting go enough to let todoroki pull his hand back. he grimaces in discomfort and annoyance as fingers slip out of him, one hand tugging down to grip at his boyfriend's forearm above the hand planted on the bed by his ribs. he's seen this sight before, todoroki leaning over him, held up above his body, hair hanging in a gentle curtain on either side of his face and brow as he reaches down and touches his own cock out of the blonde's sight. but he sees it on his face, the way his throat dips in a swallow, the set of his jaw, his brows furrow, one eye twitches in a slight cringe, lips press together before parting for a low breath, cheeks flushed pink with want. such a beautiful guy... bringing his hips between his thighs, knees passing todoroki's sides as he lifts his hips slightly to give him access.

his chest sinks in a low groan as the velvet shroom of his head brushes accidentally against his sac, grumbling a bit because he missed and it felt good. even moreso as it drags down his perineum, nudges against his buttocks, and finally slips between the twin muscles. thank fuck todoroki takes his hand away and does it by pure feeling after that. up and down, nuzzling his cock to the inside of his cheeks and smearing precum across his puckered hole. it clenches inward each pass, eager then disappointed, before finally catching. he slaps one hand onto his boyfriend's shoulder, the other slipping down to grapple at his wrist. legs lift, one hooking around todoroki's narrow hips, the other embracing the back of his thighs to hold onto him as his cock pushes his entrance open. just do it-

pop.

feels like his breath punches out of him. todoroki collapses onto his forearm, their chests coming close, his legs tense around the other boy's hips and limbs as the long-since-memorized shape of his head pushes into his body. he's greedy immediately, absorbing that stretching burn and then arching as todoroki pushes in further. muscle rolls inward, dragging in a tight, wet slide down the other hero's shaft as he pushes forward inch by inch. his head falls back on the pillow, mouth open in a silent yell of pleasure as he clenches his eyes shut. abs harden, chest swells, heart pounds, body throbs, hands and legs grip, he's pulling todoroki close and into him because it feels amazing and he doesn't want him to go anywhere but further in.] Shoto!

[hairsplit]

( pleasure is always something that feels like it builds up into an intensity that's hard to fight against; it feels like something that he's forced to give away, something that melts out from his fingertips before he can hold them back. feelings have always been that way, as though he's always been a little afraid to let them go, as though keeping them safely guarded for so many years had also kept them from getting damaged, kept them from being bruised. now that he's here, in a place that's far away from all the weight on his shoulders, he's slowly loosened his hold on them, daring to speak up when he wants to add something to the quiet conversations in the dorm at night, daring to offer his help to the people that he has declared his friends. for some of them, like midoriya, it's easy to meet him halfway: he has a gentleness about him, a kindness that's easy to melt into; for some of them, like bakugou, there's a harshness there that's not particularly cruel, or even with the meanest of intentions, but rather a bluntness that he appreciates.

then again, it's been a long time since he's considered bakugou just a friend, to him.

so maybe it's bakugou's fault, a little, that there's such an intensity here. he'd felt it that first time, fumbling together under the darkness of a place they shouldn't have been doing things they shouldn't have been doing, and he'd felt it after, in the shower, straining his mouth against bakugou's mouth, panting against him, grappling for his hair and his hands in quiet desperation. for as much as he's learning how to feel his own feelings in his friendships, it's an entirely different beast to learn how he feels in a relationship: to have to admit to himself how badly he wants to feel bakugou's breath on his skin, to wake up in the morning and see him already getting up out of bed, stretching in the early hours before heading out for training. maybe it's so intense because it's such a precious thing, then: the risk of losing something like this is more than he thinks he could bear.

there's something about this moment that feels just as intense as all the other moments, and it's strange, really, that he thinks he always feels like this--that he hasn't lost any of that passion, any of that desperation, any of that arousal for the way that bakugou touches him or the way that bakugou lets him touch him. is it going to be like this, then, every time they have sex? his whole stomach flips, tense, wrought with heat, and as he guides his hips in, here, as he feels bakugou's legs tense around him, feel his body part around him, he can feel his skin prickle with the weight of goosebumps, his thoughts so wrapped around the tight feeling of bakugou's insides that he can't possibly think to control his quirk at all. he pushes in, guides his hips forward, pants into the crook of bakugou's neck and feels his arm clench with the effort to keep his weight up.

he can't explain the way it feels, when bakugou says his name like that. it makes him feel like he might come just from the sound alone. )

I know. ( he has to say, mouthed in against bakugou's neck, because he's afraid of pulling his head back up again, afraid of what his face looks like, afraid of the heat and the pleasure and the possessive fervor there. ) I know. It's--

( how can he even put it into words, the feeling? his whole body rocks, pulsing forward between bakugou's legs, forcing him to loosen just enough to let him move; he can feel bakugou's chest beneath his, already slicking up with a little bit of sweat, and down between his legs, the glossy stick of precum oozed from his erection, trapped between them. there's another push of his hips in, testing the give, testing the resistance; his lips skim, a hot pressure against the throb of bakugou's pulse in his neck.

here, hidden in against him, it's safe to moan--safe to let the sound, deep and heady, echo in against bakugou's ear as he keeps rolling into him, a rocking rhythm that holds its intensity. )