👿 Open Post 3

[blastedass]

Open Post

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



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[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. )

[blastedass]

[intensity. it's always been a little intense with todoroki. ever since seeing his power on display the first time. that leading to a one-sided rivalry and annoyance, moving into the frustration of remediation classes with him, to knowing about his background with endeavor, to finally evolving into this attraction. always intense. is it his fault? not that he's going to admit. everything else admits it. from the fervor he clung to todoroki with as they made out anew in the shower to the way his hands and mouth mapped out all the trails and lines of the other hero's body. grabbing for his hair to pull his head back so he could sink his teeth into the column of his throat and suck a mark there that wouldn't leave by morning. possessive and claiming as his legs tangled with todoroki's with every bared intention of keeping him as close as possible.

relationships have always been an annoyance to him, getting in the way, so he never thought he'd want to have one. now, with todoroki, he wants to. wants to fall asleep to the sound of his gentle breathing. wants to steal a minute or so in the breaking dawn light to look at his handsome face after waking a little earlier than him. this is something he has no intention of ever losing. it's a dangerous thing, admitting to caring that much... but he guesses his mom was right about the blessing of it outweighing the inevitable curse that comes along with it.

he thinks this is always going to feel intense. sex with todoroki. when he wants him bad enough he gets irritated when he's not around for a long time. when he's concerned about him to the point of staying up until he comes home (most of the time). when he's attracted to him so much each kiss, touch, grind sends his skin into a burst of nerves exploding and arousal kicking up into a hard burn. todoroki's not lost any of that intensity with him. passion, neediness, arousal. all of it. his hips slide forward, burning the inside of his thighs as he wraps his legs tightly around his boyfriend's narrow waist, and that sweet bite of pain and pleasure as he presses inside him.

stretches him open in that perfect way he's already memorized, the shape and feeling of todoroki's arousal as he starts to fill him up. he can't help the way his body tightens around him, squeezing in a fluttering ripple of wet heat that at once tries to expel him and pull him in. a sharp gasp sucks between his jaws as he spears him even further, head dropping against the pillow, chest arching upward the deeper inside he goes. fingers fist into the back of his hair, the other hand scrambling over sweaty skin as he tries to alleviate the sensation of todoroki connecting with him again. like this, together, one body.]

Ngh-! ... fu-uck... [it breaks in the middle as his breath catches, body throbbing the second he feels todoroki's length pulse inside him as if the other boy's going to come before he's even fully inside. lips move against his neck, tracing out his acknowledgement on his skin. he clenches his eyes shut, grits his teeth against the more embarrassing sounds, but it's all for naught as some of them make it out anyways. a whine, a growl, a whimper because it hurts and feels good simultaneously. heat floods across his face, knees hiking up closer to todoroki's ribs as his ankles press hard to either side of his hips. he doesn't want him to put it into words; that's fucking embarrassing.

todoroki surges forward in a slow, deliberate motion, pushing between his thighs and lower legs and shaking that death grip off his body for a brief moment. loosened enough that there's no stopping the wet slide against his body, his length driving so deep inside he feels like todoroki's in his stomach. chest to chest, heaving with a sharp cuss and heavy breaths as he arches and ruts against his boyfriend. his tunnel seizes up hard around his shaft, prompting his own to pulse a spurt of precum onto his abs before oozing down his adonis belt. he tries his damnest to relax, right when todoroki tests another push of his hips, and-] Gah! [-his erection goes in over halfway in a slick plunge that has him shouting into the hot air. his boyfriend's moaning against him, seeping that sound into his ear, and he can't control what that does to his body. heart throbbing, erection pulsing, core muscles swallowing around the hard rod inside him that carries the beat of todoroki's heart deep inside his body. going even further.] A- all... fuck, do it- haa-.. haa-... all of it.

[hairsplit]

( all of it? all of it? he's not an idiot, or--well, maybe it's safer to make a declaration that he's not going to be an idiot here, in this moment, even though the urge is there. he could question him, doubt him, worry over him as though to doubt bakugou's truth, as though to doubt his instructions, and he knows that all that'll get for him will be a sharp gnash of teeth near his ear, a jolt of irritation in the desperate panting that's pulled from bakugou's throat and mouth. he's not going to ruin things like that, not even going to try. even his head, dazed with pleasure, knows that when bakugou says something like that, when he makes a demand like that: he means it. even when they're out in the field, even when it's training, even when they're with midoriya and trying to keep up in class, he trusts bakugou's discretion, trusts his instruction. it's his own that he often doubts--charging forward too fast, too determined, taking too much onto his shoulders.

and if bakugou wants to take it, then he wants to give it to him.

there's a soft, heavy nod, tucked in against the side of bakugou's neck, where the heat is eating away at him, where he can feel the tickle of damp, blonde hair spiking out against his cheek, against his nose and his eyelid; he doesn't care. his mouth warms in against the pulse point beneath bakugou's ear lobe, mouthing and licking over it, carving his teeth in against it as though he could latch onto him and offload some of the feeling, there, as though he could bite it right into him. overwhelming and hot, bakugou's muscles squeeze in around him and it takes all of his effort not to clamp in, not to suck him a hickey that he'll probably hate.

he forces his breath away. his body rocks in, allowing to the give of bakugou's legs around him, canting himself forward, driving himself further and further until it feels like there's nothing more he has left to give; and maybe there isn't, the realization when skin hits skin, when he's gotten in as much as he can, when his head finally has to lift to spare himself his own hot breath, boxed in between bakugou's shoulder and the mattress. embarrassed, his bangs droop, hanging in front of his eyes; he has to shake them a little to be able to see him, and even then, his gaze swims, a little hazy, a little locked with arousal. )

You're making it... hard. ( his voice is rough, husky with pleasure, with amusement--bakugou is so tight around him that he can hardly stand it, but he stays there, rooted in him, stays there pressed as far as he can go, and he noses down to press a kiss to the corner of bakugou's mouth, leaving him the chance to measure his breath. ) You're really...

( amazing? maybe he wants to say. but it sounds so stupid, falling from his lips, sounds so dumb that he keeps it behind his teeth. he's always better at talking with his actions, rather than his words; and after a moment of hesitation, he drags his hips back, just a little, giving him enough room to press back in again. their skin slides together, hot, tight, pulsed with desire; it takes him a steadying moment, again, not to just come right then and there. he's not going to do that. he's not going to commit to that embarrassment.

his head bows, rolling back again, driving forward again, and bakugou's tight clench slips a little, around him, loosened with the movement; he does it again, slow, measured, tempering the grind of his hips into a purposefully languid rhythm. )

Mmn. ( a sound of frustrated pleasure, as his head dips down further, mouth scattering wet, distracted kisses against bakugou's cheek, down to his jaw, smothering in at his neck again as he moves them together, his thoughts focused so solely on the tight lock of bakugou's tunnel around him that he can hardly stand it. )

[blastedass]

[all of it, dammit! amid a hanging second, he sees a litany of thoughts flash through those mismatched eyes above him. wondering if he can take it, if he should give it, if todoroki's going to follow through with that order or not. he's ordered the other boy around so many times and got nothing from it, whether it's cause he's stubborn, deliberately ignorant, or has his own challenge. how many times has he snarled at him to stop taking his time, to stop being so rough (which is a fucking lie), to stop being a sap, and each of those led to todoroki following up with acceptance, turned on refusal, or making him wait even more. he's heard his naive question hummed in his ear, he's shuddered under that deep monochrome voice say he didn't want to, he's felt his hands grip his hips or tighten in his hair or lips push against his own as his demands were either met, delayed, refused, and every time it felt amazing whatever the results. if he says he can fucking take it, then he can take it. todoroki doesn't have to worry about him. he trusts his boyfriend completely.

clinging to him like this always feels embarrassing, romantic, and intimate together. feeling his nod against the slope of his neck has him panting quietly, head falling back on the pillow as sweat drips towards his shoulder. nuzzling back to that tender action is all the encouragement and assurance he's going to bother giving right now. a shudder ripples through his flesh, bought by that simple action of tongue wandering below his ear lobe, flicking sensitive skin once or twice between hard white settles in place of it. bite him, fucking do it or not, but no, todoroki just wants to tease him and it's maddening all over again. like hell can he stop the way his body contracts around the other boy. he's gonna end up with a hickey or a million on him somewhere.

one forward motion and his mouth falls open, eyes half-lidded as his brows furrow in a wince. it burns, it hurts, it feels full, everything's stretching, nerves fire off, todoroki's hips press solidly against the curve of his ass, and he's all the way in. a breathless "fuck" drags out of his throat, knees clenching hard around the other teenager's ribs as he knots his ankles behind his boyfriend's hips. just as todoroki lifts his head to get a cool breath of air. it's too tempting and he goes for it, pulling his own from the pillow so he can grip the boy's throat with his teeth. it's as much a kiss as it is a bite, lips sealing around the lock, tongue laving over the flesh between the enamel. not hard enough to hurt, of course, yet enough to leave a dent as proof he was there before finally letting go and drawing back.]

Wuss. You're already hard. [his own voice thickens with arousal, smug satisfaction, and a hint of tension from the easing ache. see how todoroki handles this. abs deliberately tighten, core muscles clenching, his body seizes up around his member with a purposeful squeeze. every inch possible swallowed inside, balls settled against his cheeks so snugly he can feel their slight shift. as todoroki nuzzles into him again, he kisses back, not a lip to lip thing, rather tiny biting kisses that go for the rim of his mouth, edge of his cheek, lips, pesky and tender simultaneously.]

Gonna finish that, Shouto? [it feels safe to use his name like this, when they're connected skin to skin, breathing hard along each other's mouth. his breath hitches as narrow hips drag backwards, extracting himself from him even a bare amount, and it's "bad" enough he instinctively tightens his legs around todoroki's hips, heels digging into the top of his glutes. fuck- back in again, where he belongs, and he relaxes slightly, strong chest rising and falling with a few deeper breaths. the best part is, he can feel his heartbeat deep inside him, pounding into the walls of his body. thrusting and movement can blow his mind, yet these bare moments of stillness, panting and breathing as todoroki brands his insides with that steady pulse of his life, threaten to choke his chest with affection. no more, pulled away from that state by another roll of his hips, sliding out and pushing in, stretching his ring around his shaft, forcing him to grit his teeth and tell his body to loosen up. he manages, for a moment, then todoroki rubs something else inside and everything squeezes tight once more as his head crams into the pillow with a heady gasp.]

Fu-huck- [fingers slowly curl in the sheets, dragging the white material over his knuckles and fisting it into his palm to half-cover his hand with satin sheen. heat blooms across his face, body moving with todoroki's thrusts. he can't think of anything else but him, the heat of his mouth on his face and neck, the sight of his broad shoulders rocking above him, the slope of his sides and hips nuzzling between his thighs, his shaft hard and throbbing as it undulates slow and deep inside him. todoroki... his todoroki...] Why... why the fuck... do you feel so damn good...

[hairsplit]

( it's like cresting over the top of a mountain, when bakugou's breath hits that pitch, when his words tumble out of him like he's fallen right over the edge, rolling down in a steady plummet towards the bottom. the gentle insults, the gentle taunting, the gentle prodding and pushing and soft, errant hum of his name, he can handle: that's just every day life with bakugou, enduring the bark of his voice but never the bite. but it's the moments like these that he cherishes, the moments where they break past that stubborn push and pull into a space where they're both moving together; bakugou's body tightens in around him, muscles taut, legs tight, and he pushes into that heat despite himself, despite the lack of space, despite the way that bakugou stretches around him. his throat burns, where bakugou's teeth marked his place, and he can feel the sweat that beads off bakugou's chin, dripping from his temples, soaked into the bits of damp blonde hair so close to his face.

it's possessive, a little, and he knows it. he's not the type to be jealous, really, though he does sometimes watch in a bit of playful agony when bakugou goes off with his friends, or when they tease him, arms rubbed around his shoulders or wrestling into his hair. they're not quite at the point in their relationship where it's smart to admit it to everyone else, and he accepts that without question, doesn't worry that bakugou is off making eyes at someone else, or coaxing some other body into his bed at night. bakugou isn't that kind of person, and he isn't the type, either: not one to pour over bakugou's phone, late at night, reading his messages or worrying otherwise. he doesn't worry, on those nights where bakugou crawls into his bed and falls asleep almost instantly; their training is arduous, and some nights they spend curled around each other rather than inside of each other, and he doesn't mind it.

but he wants to be the only person that sees bakugou like this: panting, pink in the face, legs curled up around him, demanding and questioning and aching for his touch. he wants to be the only person that fits between his thighs, like this, the only person that can drive him into this place, tumbling down, lost into the questioning pants of pleasure. and a part of him takes it like a challenge: to get better, to do better, to fuck better, to make sure that he's giving bakugou just as good as he gets.

rutting into him, like this--he can feel it, where bakugou's muscles go tight, where they squeeze in around the head of his cock and down the length of it; his own shoulders lock, a shuddering, frigid breath in against bakugou's skin despite himself, too heady to remember to cycle his own heat. )

Do you want me to answer that? ( it's easy to get the words out in a slow, dazed murmur, as his hips still--but once he's rocking back into him, an agonizingly slow rhythm, it's harder. ) Ah--

( for a moment, he's lost in it: the teasing words he'd plied his tongue with seem to disappear, and it's just the pressure of fucking himself into bakugou that stays, a constant that has his hips driving forward, arching back, driving forward again, rocking him into the pretty hotel sheets, at a loss to find his head in the midst of it.

his nose bumps, the bridge of it knocking into bakugou's jaw--he licks up his skin, there, marking his throat, kissing and pulling with his teeth as he keeps the rhythm purposefully slow. he's going to come a little too easily, and it's been a long time since they've had the chance to just take their time: usually they're burning forward, smothered in passion, riding out the rhythm as it speeds up and spirals. so he takes the chance to say it, once his mind's dragged away from orgasm again, forced back to keep his cock driving hot and aching into bakugou's body-- )

Because you're mine. ( with a soft murmur, amused, his mouth pressed up to bakugou's ear in a kiss. ) Feels good 'cause you're mine...

[blastedass]

[so often he's adverse to people getting close to him whether that's someone wanting to shove their arm around his shoulders or lean into his space when he's clearly not into it. it's what makes letting todoroki get close to him special. someone he acknowledges he can trust to come into his life and little private bubble without getting immediately chased out. made even more intimate when their relationships changed to this. now there's an added layer, where it's hot and tight, where he feels himself connecting to todoroki on a level no one else can possibly approach. the sensation of his body sliding inside him, pushing his own open and stretching him out as the other boy fills him and joins with him in such a flesh to flesh way.... fuck, there's nothing like it in the entire world. when he can look up and see those two-colored eyes locked with his in a heated gaze, lips parted as the other boy's breath comes shorter as his nerves fire off in pleasure whenever the blonde's body tightens around his shaft and tries to drag him even further in. he ca do this, he can make his lover feel like this, when fire and ice melt into steam and water dripping off the tips of his bangs and caressing down the cut of his jaw.

the only person for him. the only one who can see him like this, inhibitions stripped bare and his blood running hotter than a battle or exertion. just as the sight above him is his own to keep and guard jealously. todoroki's blush from cheekbone to nose bridge to cheek bone, the flex of his thighs as he kneels on the bed and cradles his hips and thighs against his own, how his hands reach for him to touch and hold in ways that don't have to make any sense, so long as that wanton affection is responded to. he wants all of that to himself, to be the only one whose warm, strong body rocks between his legs and entices his ankles to knot around his waist, the only one who can feel the warm side and cool side of todoroki's body brushing over his own flesh, where he can pick out which side is more active at any given moment.

of course he wants to be the same for his boyfriend, as amazing and intimate a partner in bed as they ended up being on the battlefield. each rocking thrust pushes further inside him, hikes his body a bit more, causes him to tense as he feels todoroki's sides and upper legs flex with those motions. it feels good, doesn't it, and the other boy can't hide it. he knows his pleasure from the way his cock jumps inside him, how his shoulders round and hunch forward a bit, and his lips open to ghost out a chilled needy moan.

his heart quickens immediately. it's childish and petty, but in a positive way, when he knows he's the reason todoroki loses a little control of his quirk when they're tangled up like this.]

Don't... give me... a damn essay- guh! [does he want him to answer? hell, he doesn't know. the other boy could probably talk about ice and fire right now and the blonde would be hard pressed to stop squeezing around him and groping the taller boy's shoulders, arms, and upper back. each time he thrusts inside, over and over...]

Haa... haa-! ... agh... fu... [another pitch forward, his legs slide upward on his sides, heels bounce against the tops of his buttocks, and he throws both arms around his boyfriend's broad shoulders. one hand grapples onto his own forearm, sweat oozing down his skin, the other hand clamors wet and without grip along the sweat-slick surface of todoroki's back. blunt nails rake over a firm shoulder blade before finding some purchase near his spine.

why the hell does a wet tongue along his jaw end up dragging a breathy groan straight out of his throat? it does, his head dropping and tilting back on the pillows as todoroki kisses and laps at his neck. one swallow dips his windpipe and voice box in a wave beneath that ravaging mouth, a sticky breath puffing wetly from his lips as soon as his lungs start to work again. the slow rhythm inside him is maddening, as he simultaneously wants to demand todoroki go faster and growl at him to keep it just like this. where he can feel every inch sliding in and drawing out. plenty of times together are fast and hurried. being able to indulge in each other and feel more passion and emotion than just physical need is mind blowing in how good it feels. red eyes crack open, searching up into todoroki's lust-blown irises, ears burning at his deep voice husked in feelings... cock buried inside him so he can feel his boyfriend's heart pounding in his walls.]

Bastard... where do you... get off saying... that kinda crap to me... [yet he's smiling, a delirious, passionate grin that's burning with the same emotions in his own eyes. his hips buck, his body tightens up hard around the other boy's cock as lips brand his ear with another kiss. a spurt of slick precum lances up his stomach as the blonde hikes one leg higher up his lover's back, wrapping all around him in a claiming twine.] Of course it feels good... You're already mine.

[hairsplit]

( impossible to hold it back, it's laughter that bubbles past his lips, breathy and brief; it's laughter, warmed through by that look on bakugou's face, that delirious smile, the way that he climbs his legs around him like he's trying to wrap himself around a tree, too stubborn to be pulled away. he knows it's the wrong reaction, knows that he should be trying to be attractive, trying to be handsome and calm, trying to be some measure of something that bakugou likes, but: there's something strange about how much bakugou's smile makes his own lips want to twist into a smile of their own, the way that it fuels his body with a flash of heat, warmed down from his shoulders to his gut, making him feel bashful, pleased, fluttery, like his affection for him wraps around his arousal, couching it in pretty feelings that he shouldn't say. he just looks good like this, smothered into the pillows, his skin flush against pale sheets--he just looks good when he's smiling, when it's genuine, when he lets himself show more than his usual tight-lipped snarl and bright red gaze will give away. it's not a silly thing to love, but it's definitely not something he thinks he knows how to articulate just yet.

he doesn't know how to articulate much of anything, really. that laughter, breathy as it is, bleeds away, and his chin ducks, his head bowing in a bit of embarrassment as he nods in towards bakugou's neck and shoulder, again, finding solace in tucking in against him. his weight leans, his arm tenses, bakugou's legs tighten around him, his insides tighten around him, and he stays there, for a moment, rooted in that heat, soaking it in, forcing himself not to give into the intense, pulling desire to just come. maybe it's ridiculous to be this stubborn, but with bakugou looking like he does, underneath him, who the hell would blame him? he doesn't want to have it all be over, to have the night be done, to pull on their clothes and awkwardly walk out of the hotel in the morning.

his lips brush again at bakugou's neck, then drop, then lift again, licking over the steady pulse of his heart in his throat--and then another roll of his hips, another slow, pointed descent inside of him, pushed to the edge, before he drags back out again, rolls in, and he can feel every little slip of bakugou's wet body around him, can feel where he tenses, where his dick catches and then slips back only to force its way back in again. it makes him feel almost delirious, going at a slow, steady pace, instead of their usual desperate passion: not that he thinks there's anything wrong with either way, but they've never really had the chance to take their time, and it's bringing him close to an edge that feels almost overwhelming.

his head lifts again, but his nose knocks bakugou's cheek, rubs up against the side of bakugou's nose, too, before he gets enough space between them to talk. )

Where do you...get off...smiling like that at me?

( a slow imitation of bakugou's complaint--but his lips are spreading, slowly, into a smile that he can't hold back: dizzy, bleached with pleasure, his bangs hanging damp against his forehead, and rather than let bakugou say anything, he leans in to kiss him, sealing their mouths together as he drives in again; it's a little quicker, but only marginally so, his tongue slipping past the seam of bakugou's mouth as he ruts inside of him with his hips, drives him up into the mattress where there's nowhere for him to go.

maybe it's stupid, lackluster, in a way, that all it takes is the taste of bakugou's breath in his mouth to really push him all the way--maybe it's a disappointment, in some ways, that his body tenses, his weight locks, his shoulders quiver and his mouth parts in a desperate, panting sort of moan into bakugou's tongue; but it feels right, locked in like this, so tangled in with bakugou's body that he can hardly tell where they'll have to separate. his orgasm comes in waves, heat that drives itself inside bakugou's walls, jerking into every splash inside of him like it's the first time he's ever done it, desperate to leave his mark there, desperate to leave him warm, full, a possessive thought that almost makes him want to blush. )

[blastedass]

[he should be mad at him, flare up and kick him right in his stupid face. who the fuck laughs at a time like this? when he's buried balls deep in his ass with his legs hooked around him like a selfish serpent. he should be. but he's not. doesn't matter how short or winded, todoroki's laugh is rare and precious. a boy who spent too long in his young life with his smile, laughter, and joy frozen beneath burning ice. seeing his lips curve, hearing his deep voice flutter with mirth, the flush of amusement on his cheeks, are all wondrous evidence of his boyfriend's heart freed from the burdensome glacier. there's still so much left to heal and work on, but now they can work on it. todoroki may think himself "unattractive" to him when he laughs, yet it's the furthest from the truth. griping at him, telling him to shut up and not make fun of him, doesn't he know by now those barks are nothing like his bite? he wouldn't even be here, arching beneath his body and panting his name if he didn't like him. more than like him. fingers not fisted in the sheets find their way to todoroki's face and caress along the contour of his cheek. thumb brushing his reddened skin, index fingertip skimming scar and bangs, middle fingertip along the inner shell of his ear, ring fingertip nuzzling just under his earlobe, pinky tucking round the back of his jaw hinge. holding his handsome, beautiful laughing face. he always looks ridiculously good. even with that blank neutral expression. especially when he smiles.

face trades for nape as he tilts his head back and to the side on the pillow when todoroki descends on the curve of his trape. hiding in the crook of his neck as the blonde cups his hand on the smooth back of his halse. the heat of his breath ghosts over his flesh, sending his nerves seizing up momentarily before melting into a mess beneath his skin. weight shits, arms harden, todoroki's arousal throbs inside him, getting even bigger for a few damn seconds, and it steals his breath away in a silent cuss. knees cling to the lower curve of his ribs, heels digging into the top of his ass and the back of one thigh, desperate to keep him rooted inside and demanding he stay right where he is. todoroki wants to come already; he's dripping inside him, each twitch and pulse spurting a tiny gush of that crystal fluid. but he's refusing to. it's cute. it's hot. it's very much everything his boyfriend is. makes the blonde want to keep him all the more. a lifetime with todoroki isn't enough to discover everything about him.

kiss me properly, you half-brained idiot. is what he wants to say. but someone's mouth is stealing his words, leaving his voice only able to pant and gasp in failed attempts to keep those embarrassing todoroki-hewn sounds at bay. his pulse slams in his throat beneath a working tongue, two or three beats per roll of those strong hips against his ass. slow and deliberately spearing him inside, until he swears he feels the tip of todoroki's member pushing behind his abs. this bastard's so deep inside him, stretching him out until it hurts in the best way, before he drags backwards. the ring of muscle selfishly snares at the sliding column of flesh, struggling to keep him in as natural relief floods his hips. for a moment, he softens. and todoroki drives right back inside. a high-pitched noise escapes his lips, toes curl hard enough to pop, and his fingers dig into his boyfriend's nape. it's impossible to stay quiet with his dick scouring his insides like that, blunt round tip forcing his tunnel open and drooling all over everything. fluid drips down his tailbone, squeezed out when todoroki plunges back in, blowing his mind each time his boyfriend's balls gently flop against his ass. there's no intense speed, no hard pace bounding them on the bed, but rather this depth reaching to his core as he tangles up with his hero. passionate. who would've thought taking it slow would be this damn erotic?

finally todoroki lifts his head and his own rolls on the pillow, hot water filling the lower rims of his eyes as loving nuzzles wander the side of his nose, leaving his skin tingly against that deep, lust-thickened voice.]

Brat... don't b- mph! [throwing his own words back at him, huh? too bad he can't play that game at him. a one two punch shuts him up. that damn smile again, delirious with pleasure, barely kissed by sweat-dampened veils of white and red. that damn kiss again, just what he wanted. the shape of todoroki's lips meld with his own and he abandons the pillow completely to wrap his arms around his boyfriend's broad shoulders. muscles flex in his upper back beneath his forearms, encouraging him to hook his hands on todoroki's skin rather than holding his own arms. sweat and saliva. both exude harder as he kisses him back, shoving into his mouth with more passion and need than before. a faster thrust earns a thick grunt, hips bucking upward and leaving the bed for a fraction of a second before dropping down between todoroki's embracing thighs. rutting into him, barely drawing out, yet he's thrusting in over and over. tongues tangle together in a wet mess within their mouths, a quick battle trading back and forth between whose jaws are the battleground. of course it doesn't matter, so long as he keeps kissing him.

kissing him and filling him. they're so entwine together, already so wet and dripping, he doesn't realize todoroki's orgasm triggers for a full second. that low, needy moan spreads over his tongue, fills his mouth, and then he feels it, the way his dick thickens within him again, not just a pulse of pleasure, but hardening up before everything goes molten. pouring out in waves that fill him up and brand his insides with todoroki's own. claiming him like no one and nothing else can. it's no wonder that he finds his own orgasm a second later, snared around his mate the way he is, arms and legs clinging all over his body as his balls draw up and his cock spurts messily between their rutting bodies. hot and hot, pulsing out as if todoroki's coming through him. panting breaths flare up into a keening grunt of a cry as he finds that peak with him, forehead to forehead, locked together so tightly he can't tell where he ends and todoroki begins. and he doesn't have a damn problem with that.

so long as it's you.]

[hairsplit]

( it feels like he's been clocked in the head, like a hand struck at the back of his neck--dizzying, drenched in the beading sweat of bakugou's body against him and his own body struggling to gain control over the fluid tension of hot and cold inside of him; his skin pebbles with goosebumps, then flares out with a wave of heat, a pant of breath that locks itself into that scant space between his lips and bakugou's mouth.

for a long moment, he can't tell what's happening, what's already happened, can't tell if it's bakugou's spent orgasm between them, or if it's just the distant feeling of his own, pulsed so hard that he feels sticky everywhere--his hips roll in, desperate to drag every single little feeling out of the pleasure, to keep pushing and pressing until the sensitivity gets the best of him, and it's that shift that makes him realize, that tensing, the way bakugou's climbed all the way up against him as though they lack any seams. it's the hot pulse of his cock, trapped between their stomachs, and the aftermath of soft, oozing ejaculate spent on his skin, on bakugou's muscles, dripped and smeared between them.

panting breath turns to another near-laugh of disbelief--like he's so happy, so overwhelmed by feeling that he could cry; his orgasm numbs and rounds and sands off all the edges of his worries, his compartmentalized feelings, his fear of doing things wrong, feeling things wrong, that he tips his chin in and presses another overwhelming kiss to bakugou's open mouth, stealing his breath, stealing his tongue with one possessive swirl of his own. but his head is still reeling, his body is still desperate for air, and the kiss only lasts for one moment before he's drawing back again; the tension in his arm finally gives, tenting down until he can lay on top of bakugou's chest, careful of his own hips, careful of bakugou's softening length between them. )

...Bath should have been after. ( he says after a moment, a long consideration, but he's smiling, and it's obvious in the warm, heated exhaustion of his tone. ) I'm sorry.

( it's nothing he needs to apologize for, and he's sure that bakugou will scold him for it--but it doesn't matter. nothing matters, except the warm rise and fall of bakugou's chest and stomach against his, feeling all the ways they touch, all the ways they connect, all the ways bakugou's body gives and heats and curls around him. it's selfish to be reluctant, selfish to not want to pull back, but he's practical enough to know that he can't just burrow himself into bakugou's skin and fall asleep. so after a moment, forcing himself, he pitches his weight back up onto a shaky palm, head ducking down, space forced between them so that he can reach down towards the curve of bakugou's thighs.

it's careful, the way he pulls himself back, the way his fingers catch around the shape of his cock, soothing over it as bakugou's muscles tense and give way around him, the head finally caught free from that tight ring; and now that he's pushed up, hovering over him again, his gaze falls, casts itself down along bakugou's chest and stomach, flickering over his spent cock, and then back up again, contented, pleased. )

I'll get a towel. ( softly, as he forces himself up onto his knees--his gaze is still glossed over with exhaustion and pleasure, stretching his long torso to jerk an arm over the edge of the bed for one of the bath towels; when he straightens back up again, it's so that he can sit on his folded legs, still between bakugou's thighs, to start to gently, methodically, mop up the cum spilled across his stomach, smeared down his pelvis, pooled slightly along the curve of his ass.

it's a little embarrassing: he's tending to bakugou with such gentle care that he might get scolded, but this is his person here, and he'll be as soft as he wants. it's too late in the evening to be anything else; tired as he is, he knows the feelings are genuine. ) How do you feel...?

[blastedass]

[everything melts. his skin, his muscles, his thoughts, his body, dripping down itself in leaking beads of sweat, saliva, semen, heat. pieces of himself kiss against todoroki's body, chest rubbing chest, an arm thrown over his back, a leg hiked possessively around his hip, lips finding the side of his neck, or is that his shoulder, maybe his mouth, he can't tell an doesn't care to for several blazing blissful seconds. all that matters is they're touching.

another pulse deep inside finally calls him back to a waking moment, red eyes parting halfway amid his heaving breaths. todoroki's leaking out of him even as his body instinctively contracts in attempt to keep him inside. his body, his fluid, his air. hips roll against his own, pushing their fusion further into him, earning a choked noise from the blonde's mouth as fingers scramble across the flexing swell of his boyfriend's shoulder. caged in by that strong body above him, each elbow and knee trapping him within the confines of todoroki's heated embrace. afterglow is a blessing and a curse, ecstasy over completion, satisfied and loved, yet heralding the necessary evil of separation. he doesn't want him to pull out, to untangle from their embrace, to lose connection his body still craves despite their orgasms painted all over their flesh.

todoroki's voice tumbles out in a tiny skitter of a laugh, a charming childish thing of pure incredulous delight. he wants to say something, but all he can do is a soft moan of pleasure into the newly-introduced mess of his lover's mouth atop his own. strength pumps anew into his muscles as he tightens his arm around todoroki's nape and solidly hauls him closer, the kiss deep and claiming. overwhelming in give and return as he curls his tongue round the other slimy wriggle inside his jaws. shoulders hunch, arms brace, the taller's trying to get away and he refuses it. biceps harden, fingers grip, brows furrow, stubbornly keeping that kiss connected for a few more seconds before finally letting todoroki part with a gasp like two men coming back from near drowning. so much better... and pays for it with another body flopping onto his own. it's all hot right now, their carved definitions slipping and sticking to each other as heavy breaths suck their stomachs towards their spin before dropping them back together.]

Fucking told you... [did he? can't remember. it's been so long. sweat drips down the side of his face, his bangs are thrown up away from his forehead from all the tossing and grinding during their sex. an apology comes out, stupid and unneeded, prompting him to release todoroki's shoulder and grip into those sweat-soaked candy-cane strands. spidering his fingers in strokes across his scalp, gathering a fist full of his boyfriend's hair for no other reason than to have more of him in his possession.] Shut up.

[scolded, as expected. this is one of his favorite parts. lying tangled together in hedonistic proof of their passion for each other, when he can feel todoroki's heartbeat in two distinct areas on his body. throbbing against his chest, pounding inside his ass, knowing he's the one that makes it run that fast. a favorite part... until it wears out its welcome and the disgust of falling asleep amid the grime of sex wriggles back into his head. sometimes he's too worn out and well-fucked to care, waking up in the morning feeling gross despite the night's bliss. but most of the time, this is the result, face flushed as one hand pressing to todoroki's chest or shoulder or hip to encourage him to get the fuck out of him. unfortunately, his legs don't quite agree with his hand, thighs still stubbornly embracing the arch of a narrow hip and the taut backs of two thighs.

he doesn't want to. todoroki pulls back, he deliberately jerks forward with one leg and shoves him right back in, softening cock be damned. but the second attempt's permitted and a lewd growl of annoyance plus sensation drags from his lips simultaneously with his partner's shaft sliding backwards through his hole. sticky noises mingle with their breaths as his ring peels along his shaft, squeezing reflexively over too-sensitive skin to milk out any final dregs while he's still inside. selfish despite the soothing encouragement of his boyfriend's hand to let him go, until one final tug extracts from him with a wet pop and splurt of white before his hole clenches shut again. a sensation he hates the most. it means it's over. even as todoroki slowly lounges forward again, braced above his body while he rests his hands atop his boyfriend's forearm and hand respectively, he regrets having to separate. everything's falling away, legs slipping off his waist, dropping down to the bed beside his calf, bangs falling over his forehead, afterglow fading as his nerves point out all the little proofs of todoroki's departure. all good things come to an end.]

Uh-huh. [the bed jostles with that shove up to his knees and he follows it with now-freed hands bracing on the soaking sheets. sitting up with a slow motion, attention paid to his ass, he tents a leg at the knee, foot resting flat on the bed, arms straightening behind him as his muscles stand out on his chest and stomach with his rise. red eyes linger on todoroki's displayed body in front of him, following smears of semen along his pelvic V, a drop of sweat leaking down between the grooves of his abs, a hickey on his neck, a few faint pink lines on his chest, long torso bearing marks of their time spent together. tch... he should've left more.

and promptly flops back onto his spine when todoroki starts to mop him up, tending to him like he has a burn or something. patting rather than wiping, collecting the splatters and streaks of mating marks. it feels good. it feels annoying. shoving thoughts of sex away makes it more tolerable, even as his usual impatience begins to tingle under his skin. can't they just get up and go back to the shower to clean off? they're not sleeping in this mess even if they get dried off completely. one hand combs through his hair, mind taking a quick run of his body and the penance for his pleasure. nothing hurts, except the telltale ache of his hips, but even that's far less than some of their more intense sessions. he moves a leg, running his heel along the side of todoroki's calf in a lazy linger of wanting to touch.] I'm fine. You were gentle.

[passionate, but gentle.]