👿 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]

[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.]

[hairsplit]

( he can tell that there's disapproval there, lingering in the low, husky growl of bakugou's voice, as he tends to him like he might tend to a wet counter, or a wet dish, gently mopping, gently patting, gently cleaning him as much as he can. even with the bathroom a mess, and the bed even more of a mess, he knows bakugou well enough to know that he's not quite at the place where he'll just fold backwards and fall asleep; they've had nights like that often enough, where bakugou's eyes lid and his mouth slacks and he gives in to the pleasure of exhaustion, stretched out on the mattress, half beneath the sheets. sometimes it's while he's still on top of him, stretched out along the hard muscle of his chest; sometimes he gets up after, leaving bakugou to his bliss, to wipe his own face down, adjust the covers, let him find comfort in sleep rather than an abrupt twitch in the middle of the night due to the chill. but here, bakugou's eyes are still alive with that burning red flare, watching him, watching his movements; his limbs move, the lazy drag of a heel along his calf, letting him know that he's still mostly awake.

so he knows what he wants. bakugou is particular, after all, something that he's only learned from spending more time with him--his room is surprisingly neat, when he's allowed to venture into it, and his cooking is also neat, vegetables diced into alarmingly similar sizes. he'll want to wash up, at least hose off, before bed: something that he understands, keenly, and yet still tends to him with the towel, biting back the urge to smile. once he considers bakugou clean enough to leave him, he gives the sullied towel a toss over the edge of the bed; his palm connects with the mattress, easing backward, slipping from between bakugou's legs despite protest so that he can ease down onto his back beside him, bare shoulder to bare shoulder.

one of his hands lifts, pushing back through his own bangs, trying to keep them out of his face; they're half-damp, strands drying in awkward crimps and twists, in some places, and he wrestles with it to keep it from falling into his eyes again. )

I'm glad. ( --because he is, grateful that bakugou is honest with him, and more grateful that he's okay, that nothing feels off, that nothing feels too sore. they've had sex enough that he doesn't take that sort of reassurance lightly; implicit, he trusts bakugou to know when to tell him he's gone too far. )

...So now we watch TV, is that right?

( it's said in a mild tone, almost expectant--and it gives away the fact that he's absolutely teasing bakugou, as he tries to settle himself more comfortably into the pillows; his eyes close for a moment, but it's mostly to stave off a husky chuckle, to keep his mouth from curving into a smile. if anything, he expects to be met with the brunt of bakugou's explosive, charming sort of temper: maybe he's just too fucked in the head for it to come off as anything but. bakugou could give him the most scathing insult he's ever come up with, here, and he would accept it with a smile: his feelings are too warm, too tingly, too lovesick to even take offense.

and that's something precious to him, something that he never expected to have. as a concept, 'love' and 'caring' seem to be easily understood, a kindness that should be extended as often as possible; but his mother looked at him and hated him, his father looked at him and expected more. and maybe despite all that, he's always been trying--stretching himself out, reaching for something that might burn him all the same; bakugou's the only person who has taken that hand and held it tight, possessive and demanding. it's a compliment, to be his boyfriend: something that he doesn't take for granted, something that he thinks is almost too special to put into words. still, it doesn't stop him from pulling out all the parts of bakugou that he likes-- )

Or if you want to sleep, we can sleep.

( to add insult to injury, his eyes slide open--one hand half-heartedly reaching for the edge of the sheet, as though he fully intends to pull it up and over them, filthy as they might be; he's not going to make this easy, but they've always been like this, always teasing in the most bizarre ways. )

[blastedass]

[it always feels weird when todoroki takes the cloth to him like this. patting down the drops of sweat and wiping up the mess of cum splattered all over his chest and stomach. like always, he's gentle and attentive, leaving the blonde to watch with a silent gaze. those eyes of his, slate and turquoise, wandering along his body with an affection and interest that calls blood to his face despite what they just engaged in. it's not his style to fall asleep in the mess they make together, hating waking up in the middle of the night because the ac's freezing his tacky skin, hating waking up in the morning with the sheets glued to their bodies in places. but there are times it happens, when the weight of todoroki's body sinks atop him as a heated blanket, his hands wandering hypnotically over his boyfriend's muscular back and strong shoulders. lulled by the throb of his heart and the ghost of his breath on his chest and neck respectively. he won't admit it, but lying in the afterglow with the other hero is a few moments of bliss, knowing he's alive, well, and with him. touching him with whatever's available while someone he loves tends to him in tandem emotion.

todoroki's able to surprise him even now. for someone who can be so damn punctual with his schedule and life, there are times when he veers completely off course. whether it's because he suddenly wants to experience something new or redo one he did before. content one day to sleep in the melange of sweat and semen with arms draped and legs tangled, getting up to shower off and strip the bed another day since it would be dirty to go to sleep in the mess. he even had the gall to ask him what the cloth was for when the blonde decided to trade wipe-down duty... and got whapped in the face with said cloth for being a dumbass. red eyes linger on the young man as he leans back and discards the towel onto the floor like it's nothing. does he even know what that position does to his body? palm braced on the mattress, muscular torso drawn in a taut angle backwards, pelvis jutting up just enough to lift his balls and cock from the apex of his thighs... before rocking forward and making to draw himself out from under the blonde's stubborn legs.

dammit. he misses the warmth and solid body between his thighs immediately. a shoulder bumps against his own, offering some solace to the departed presence as he turns his head to look at todoroki with half-lidded eyes. until that hand lifts in the air and runs backwards through his sweat-plastered bangs. holy shit... white and red drag off his brow, sticking up in a tousled mess above scrunched fingers. todoroki, always so composed and neat, looks a messy badboy like this, forehead bared beneath stubborn fringe, and his face heats up instantly. dammit, this bastard does that kind of crap without even noticing it! like a fucking model, ridiculously photogenic.]

You... [does he have to do that to him? stoking the coals until heat starts to boil once more. his body aches in a good way, satisfied, and yet one damn motion is enough to suggest he's got plenty of steam left for another go. another round of making this man feel the best he's ever felt. does he care he might be sore as fuck tomorrow? nope! stalking to class and growling at anyone who wants to teasingly ask why he's so stiff is a small price to pay (now) when his boyfriend looks a fucking fuckable adonis beside him.]

Haa?! The only thing they'd have on this TV is porn! [maybe some kind of softcore channel that's more about eroticism than straight up pornography. bastard, he's doing that on purpose. snuggling his head into the pillows, eyes closed in a smug angelic expression with a beautiful smothered smile begging for a pillow to the face. such a question from todoroki's lips is completely literal, even if it might be saying it in jest. neither of them have been to a love hotel before, so tv watching after sex could be one option... and there have been times he's lain in bed, naked with his lover, both of them casually alight in the face by the glowing phone screens as news, articles, or videos flicker across them in rest. someone's leg will bump, a shoulder with nudge, finger poking a screen, words said, and it'd trigger the peaceful moment's end. is that what this is now? perhaps. yet he wants it to last.

wants them to last. all his life he stood at the top, no one capable of coming close to the pinnacle he proudly claimed his own. then came this boy, who with one swipe, shattered his illusion of his own strength. reality checked in, strong opponents, tragic history, someone he came to care about as more than a rival. every icy spike said he couldn't be loved, shouldn't be caught, and yet he ended up reach for todoroki. at first, to strangle him, then to catch him, finally to hold him. ice melted and the figure beneath reached out to him as well. not wanting to be burned or frozen, but to be accepted. by friends, by teachers, by love. it's sappy, stupid, and gross, but true. he fell in love with this boy, and will never fall out of it.]

Touch that and I'll blast you into the bathroom. [he saw that. a sneaky hand reaching for the sheet, as if to pull and wrap them within the sexy wet they're both to blame for making. they're going to get up and get a rinse off, strip the bed, remake it, and then go to sleep. but first... he tells his body to move, reaches one arm across his own chest and catches onto todoroki's. fingers dig into his pectoral, copping a feel as much as he's anchoring himself to scramble further for his ribs and hook in to pull. until he's leaning over his boyfriend, hand pinning his bicep to the bed, red eyes glowing down at him from above.] I'd rather carry you there.

[hairsplit]

( that hadn't exactly been something that he had considered, but as soon as it's past bakugou's lips, he realizes that he must be right. what else would they really have, here? it's not like he could flip on the television and watch the news, or cartoons, or anything particularly normal, in a place like this. just--naughty things, the sort of things that he would never look up on his own phone, or on his computer, as though too embarrassed to even wonder what might be out there. the realization is almost enough to have him cant his weight up onto his elbows, find the remote among all the other goodies on the bedside table, and turn it on just for the novelty of it; he's never really asked bakugou if he's watched it before, or if he watches it now, but there's something almost exciting about the thought of being able to watch it together, to see where bakugou's gaze goes, to see what he likes, what turns him on, what he ends up wanting to try.

so his hand flexes, but it moves towards the sheet, first: bad move. bakugou catches him with an immediate warning, and playfully dramatic, he stretches his own fingers out, pulling them up slowly as though to indicate that he has no intention of breaking the rules even as bakugou pins his arm down to the bed. his reward, in the end, is the shift of bakugou's weight on the mattress: pulled closer, dragged over him until he can see bakugou hovering above him, over him, looking down at him with those bright eyes, studying him like he's the kind of prey that might just cut and run.

and bakugou looks good, like this. his hair's still a little wet, but it's starting to find its shape again, spikes of it tufted out around bakugou's sharp features; his cheeks are a little pink, surely from exertion and not, in fact, from the embarrassment or bashfulness that he himself feels, pinned beneath him, and his skin looks taut and warm and blissfully bare, ready for hands to climb and clamor over the curves of it. for a long moment, uncannily long, he stays in silence: he doesn't care if it's awkward, or strange, or if he's betraying some kind of social nicety with the way that he stares up at him, studying him like it's the last time he'll ever see him like this--even though he knows he'll have chance and chance again, if he gets his way.

with a solemn, quiet flick of his tongue over his mouth, tasting the words there before he says them-- )

Then carry me.

( his free arm lifts--his hair hangs, tousled bangs messy and crimped in around his face, half-pulled back as though they're still damp enough to keep the shape, there, drawn away from his temples; his hand moves, pressed over bakugou's shoulders until it can lock at the back of his neck and then down, further, groping along the backs of his shoulders, gripping into a hold across them. )

Were you waiting for permission?

( said mildly, but it's a tease--his gaze is warm, longing, almost possessive as it trails over bakugou's features again: as his legs shift, thighs spreading, almost bashfully shameless as he creates space there for bakugou to slide between them or gather them up. it's the wrong time to say it, but it's always been the wrong time to say it, always been something that he's kept hidden behind his teeth, afraid of what might happen if they slip out and away. he trusts bakugou and his feelings implicitly, and there's no doubt there, no worry that he's not interested in him, not attracted to him, not wanting him as much as he wants him--

but who could love someone, like him, who could love someone like him back? is it wrong to hope for it, to want it, despite everything that he is? if he says it now, at least bakugou can scoff it off and tell him that he's just punch drunk, his head looped around into all the warmest spots thanks to orgasm; they can tease and laugh it off and leave it alone, there, if they have to, and it won't hurt nearly as much as it should if it's like that.

he's smiling, still, as he says it--just a little ghost of it, slipped past warm lips: )

I love you. Carry me.

[blastedass]

[is he seriously thinking about that?! don't try to hide that slight flicker of light in your eyes! todoroki's suddenly thinking about watching porn together and he doesn't know if that's adorable, arousing, or fucking weird. why the hell would he want to watch his boyfriend's eyes go wandering to some other guy's body? then again, neither of them are the talkative type, so rather than awkwardly ask "where do you like it" or "what feels good", they could just... watch and see each other's reactions. ugh, he shoves the idea out of his head. not right now. not after they finished having sex a minute ago. he'd rather be caught up in todoroki than lay here and watch other guys fuck.

hmph. at least there's no attempt to pull the blanket around them when they're all wet and drying. but the reward for having his hand on todoroki's arm for that pin is getting to feel him up. fingers wander over the length of his forearm, stroking smooth skin and a swell of lithe muscle before wandering among the twin tendons just under his hand. he feels is pulse point beneath his fingertips, soft throbs calming down from the previous race of sexual passion. propped above him like this, he sees every part of his boyfriend's body from the chest up. curved shoulders still glistening from a sheen of sweat, taut neck dipping under a swallow as a few crystal droplets ski down the lines, firm jaws setting under flushed cheeks from his afterglow, lush lips parting around a gentle breath, sex-tossed hair lying in dual-hued strings against his brow and half flopped above his head on the pillow, adoring eyes just now shrinking from lust-blown pupils... damn handsome bastard doesn't even know how beautiful he is half the time. he's a model doing whatever the hell he's doing, whether getting out of the shower or slurping up soba noodles. how does that last one work, he has no fucking idea, but todoroki makes it work.

they were only a few minutes ago tangled up in limbs, sweat, sex, and heated voices. there's no damn social nicety when it comes to afterglow. though he could do without the almost pining hint lingering on todoroki's expression. dammit, don't look at him like this is the last time! they'll have plenty more options to do this later. maybe not in a love hotel, but together, on whatever bed they want. tempted to dive in and steal another kiss, chase after a peeking tongue for a second, but he halts thanks to that retort. tch... seriously? it's childish, but endearing all the same.]

Lazy brat. [did he really think he'd say no? another time, of course, but amid the heat enveloping them and their sweat cooling on their skin, carrying the other hero with him seems like an annoyingly good idea. even as a wandering hand slithers across his shoulder, loops around the back of his neck, leaving trails through he wet glaze on his skin, and finally tucks over the muscular curve of his other shoulder, he's already accepting the idea.]

Shut up. I wasn't waiting for anything. [fabric husks beneath heels as todoroki spreads his legs and he kneels between them almost obediently. knees nudge beneath the tent of his boyfriend's joints, encouraging those long limbs to hike upward into the grip of his hands. tough-skinned palms smooth across the cords of his thighs, over a bony cap, below to the tender tendons at the back, and he tightens his hand to pick up and guide his boyfriend's legs around his waist. cupping the arch of his pelvis until todoroki's feet can nudge against the round of his ass. he'll leave him to deal with the grip, knotting his ankles, whatever he wants as he trades his hands' grip on his legs for a quiet scoop under the other boy's ribs. caressing beneath heat-soaked skin until he finds the angle of his shoulder blades shoved against the bed. blunt nails scratch at his flesh, encouraging todoroki to arch his chest and lift off damp sheets. he gathers him up, a quiet "c'mere" coaxing fire and ice into his lap as he leans back, muscle on muscle pressing together in a heady flex when their chests settle flush against each other. his boyfriend sitting atop his kneeling repose, arms around his shoulders and legs embracing his waist, a perfect lotus that's all his to claim.

now to shift and slide across the bed until he spills both legs over the side, feet planted on the floor in a brace to stand up. he looks into todoroki's eyes, silently indicating his readiness to hold on. it's at that time, this idiot decides to say those words. sinking a spear into his chest that's as cold as frost and burns of flame. yet there it is. saying something he's known for some time now. affection and adoration don't collect into simple passion. for someone who only saw love through a window, never reflected how it should be in his own history... he doesn't doubt his words for a second. what a brave guy. there's no shouting, no scoffing, not even a question. only a soft husk as he leans in and kisses todoroki. head tilted, eyes closed, arms around his back in a protective, possessive embrace. he's known his answer for quite a while as well. the kiss breaks amid a gentle breath and a single string of saliva between them.]

Took you long enough, Shouto. [quiet despite his rough voice. he moves, strong legs hardening as his body rocks forward, forcefully shoving both of them into the air. his boyfriend better hold on tight, because he's not letting todoroki go now.] I love you too.

[hairsplit]

( it's oddly delicate, for a man that he knows would rather punch through walls than walk around them--oddly delicate, for someone who is quick to put words to his tongue, quick to argue, insult, quick to throw his ego around with the full weight of his prowess. it's these moments that he's been learning to enjoy, little by little, where bakugou's hand idles over his skin, touches slowly at his face, kisses him like they've got time to spare; he can't think of anyone else who has gotten this kind of treatment, patience balanced with affection balanced with a carefulness that doesn't betray any nerves, but rather, seems more about savoring and enjoying himself than preserving something delicate. and he's felt that way, before, felt the way that others might stumble over their words around him, felt the way that they might look at endeavor and dart, nervously, to see him and wonder what to say. there's plenty of tragedy and heartbreak that splits his family apart--plenty of it that splits him apart, in quiet places, and plenty that endeavor's legacy and shadow has cast over all of them, especially his own tenure as a hero.

but bakugou's never been bothered by any of that. he's never picked him up like he doesn't know how to keep him together; he's never touched him like he might shatter like ice and glass beneath him. he's never done anything that might make him feel like he's worried for his resilience or his strength or afraid that he might damage something if he picks him up the wrong way, or touches at his scar, no matter how much he generally shies away from the touch. so the way that bakugou gently loops his arms around him, guides his legs up, drags and pulls and slowly latches him into his lap: it's oddly delicate, in all the best ways, in a way that makes him feel wanted, important, rather than something damaged that needs to be handled with care.

he can't help the smile--his legs hook in around bakugou's hips, ankles knotting just above his ass, completely determined to hang on for as long as possible; and while he'd been expecting all the worst, he hadn't even stopped to consider what he might do if bakugou said it back. his lips part with breath, like he might say something too soon, might ruin the moment; his heart feels like it's going to burst, beating and thumping away in his chest, and it's so strange, and so novel, this feeling: he doesn't know if he should thank bakugou for loving him despite everything, or say it back again. what's the right thing to do? what does bakugou want him to say?

one arm tightens, and then the next, thrown up around bakugou's shoulders--he hugs himself in against his chest, ducking his chin down, tucking his face in against bakugou's neck to try to hide his nervous, pleased flush; the words are mumbled there, pleased and warm, a little dizzying-- )

Mm. It's a love hotel, so.

( a stupid tease, the sort of thing that might have bakugou knocking his head against a wall--or might even have him laugh. he's resisting the urge himself, giddy, amused, too happy that he doesn't know what to do with himself; his limbs are all locked around bakugou's frame, stubbornly clinging to him like some stupid koala. )

I had to wait to say it until now. A love hotel. I love you.

( his shoulders twitch a little with the effort not to laugh--but it's there in his voice, warm and breathy. it's so strange to think of how happiness feels, flooding his stomach, his chest, making him feel warm all over; he doesn't want this moment to end, even as bakugou continues carrying him despite all of his weight hugged against him. )

...You're going to throw me into the bathtub, aren't you.

[blastedass]

[he could have done nothing. offered a brief noise, maybe a small smirk, said something dismissive like "i know" or pushed him away grumbling in embarrassment over todoroki being a sap. yet this man said those words to his face. after everything he'd been through in his life, he had the courage and determination to put them to lips. from yelling at him before their match in the sports festival to fighting alongside him under endeavor's watch, he grew respect for todoroki. a boy who never offered anything but the coldest glances to a young man with a warm heart resting his hand on his neck as he pulled him in for a kiss. yeah, the guy's melted down from that icy prince, but there are things he only shows here with him, things he's grown to appreciate for their rarity and uniqueness to him alone. it's sweet to see todoroki's quiet marvel at going on a date, or that cute dumb way he blinked in surprise when he met bakugou's parents for the firs time, and how he pulls close when they share a bed, not invading his space yet always wanting to have some evidence he's not alone. so many things are "new" for him and he gets to watch todoroki experience all of them. wants to see him open up to even more. as a hero, as a classmate, as a partner, as a friend, as a lover.

todoroki isn't glass. he'd never treat him like that. he respects the guy's strength and expects him to keep it strong. that doesn't mean he's always going to manhandle him whenever they're together. he's pinned his boyfriend down before, rode him until he was panting, shoved him off if he was being clinging when the blonde wasn't having it, or fisted his shirt before dragging todoroki in for a kiss out of nowhere. but there are times he's gentle, lying on his stomach atop his boyfriend with one hand propping his cheek while he messes with those two-tone bangs for not reason other than fiddling as they chat. or guiding todoroki's arms and legs around his body to make sure he's good and snug before bothering to stand up and carry him off to the bathroom.

there's something erotic and satisfactory about having those strong limbs hooking over the arch of his hips, ankles crossing below the small of his back, arms wrapped secure around his neck to give him the all clear. muscles flex in his legs and back as he rocks forward and pushes himself up to stand, strong arms wrapped around todoroki's back diamond and crooked under his ass. oof... he's not a fucking waif either. should've given him some time to recover from those words, but it's fucking embarrassing to say them anyways. heaving his boyfriend up to walk with him helps push the awkwardness aside as his face flushes hot. damn, todoroki's heart's beating so hard against his chest. does it always go that fast when he talks to him like this? the rare times he does... it's better if the other hero doesn't say anything.

that embrace is way more preferred and thanks for shoving your face against his neck, half-n-half. now he can see where he's going, walking across the love hotel's room with a whole damn teenager gathered up in his arms. todoroki's taller than him, with nice arms and legs, clinging to him like a five year old. he's flushing just as hard, isn't he? heat radiates all over his neck where his face burrows into it.]

Don't give this place the credit, dammit! [he does not want to think a love hotel was the secret key to unlocking his boyfriend's mouth! not his head against the wall (he's not angled for that) but he does deliberately bump a foot into the bathroom door frame "accidentally" as they pass through. ugh, really should call "bullshit" on todoroki waiting until they got into a love hotel to say it.] Yeah right. What if it was a normal hotel?

[teasing? grouchy? probably both. todoroki sounds so amused right now and he turns his head to bite him right on the stupid ear for being a dorky sap. yet it makes him happy either way. the bite turns into a small nuzzle before he comes to a stop by the rim of the tub. it's tempting to throw him right in there, but... he instead lowers down until todoroki's ass bumps into the rim, probably comparatively cool.] It's not big enough for that.

[the u.a. tub? hell yes he would have? a cozy love hotel bath? no. he likes his boyfriend's skull intact.]

[hairsplit]

( a soft grunt of complaint is all that bakugou gets for that 'accidental' bump--because a part of him wants to dissolve into laughter at the thought, wants to laugh even more when bakugou scolds him with a little bite to his ear. he knows he's being ridiculous, and knows that they both are well aware that it's not the effect of some dumb hotel that's making them this way, but something deeper, something more important, something that's steeped in all the time that they've spent together like this, more as lovers than as friends. it's not like they're the type to be this way around everyone else: he wouldn't be surprised if only a small handful of the class knew that they were dating, based on the way they fall into that comfortable nonchalance and rivalry around everyone else. he's never felt the need to drape himself all over bakugou or try to ease into some kind of silent claim: he's never felt like bakugou would be the type of person to get swayed by anyone else, and if he did, then he trusts that he'd be honest about it.

but things like this are oddly fun, and oddly novel: he'd never really gotten a proper childhood, growing up, and while that had robbed him of many experiences, it had also robbed him of the kind of happiness that comes from being a little ridiculous, at times, from being able to take things a little less seriously, a little less focused only on output and drive. endeavor hadn't given him much time, or chance, to have fun for fun's sake; most of his time had been focused on training, for better or for worse.

even when he hears the growling irritation in bakugou's voice, he knows he doesn't mean it. even when he dumps him down on the edge of the bath, and the porcelain is too cold on his bare skin--he's still smiling, a little crooked, a little bashful, as he lets his legs loosen, sliding and slipping along bakugou's hips, down his thighs, planting his feet down onto the cool bathroom floor as he sits there on the edge. )

If it were a normal hotel, I would say normal things.

( matter-of-fact, as though it only makes perfect sense--but he's still smiling, even if he's going to get nudged or pushed or growled at in response. )

But then, I think...it's probably a pretty normal thing. Isn't it? Loving you.

( no matter his attitude, no matter his word choice, no matter him calling everyone extras or skulking around like he can be the only strong one, there are far too many people that are fond of bakugou for it to be some kind of fluke; and it's not like he can say, anymore, that he's invulnerable to his charms. he's sure that someone would think it crazy, but he thinks that bakugou has far too many lovable traits for it to be abnormal: he probably has plenty of people who look up to him and want to be with him, or even more, want to be him.

loosening his arms around his neck, slightly, he steadies himself on the edge of the bath, twisting so that he can reach with one hand to start up the water again--it really is nice, not having to worry about saving the hot water, as his fingertips skim under the faucet to test the temperature. with a shake of his damp hand, he twists back around again, looking up at bakugou pointedly as the water starts to slosh into the tub. )

...Bubbles? ( he's saying this with the most serious face he can muster. ) Hmm.

[blastedass]

[the hotel might have been the catalyst, but it merely crystalized what had been there all along. slowly building up over time with each interaction and little moment between them. over a year ago, he slammed a foot on the table when he really wanted to put it through todoroki's face, he hauled him up by the shirt with his fist ready to crash into his pretty visage, and yelled at him plenty in the weeks following. yet now he grumbles when he clunks his "accidentally" into the wall and his face flushes when he bites down on his ear. ridiculous little motions and actions that carry no violence or heat, but rather affection delivered in his own language and tolerances. because he likes this boy. a lot. more than.

no longer content to stomp past him and demand todoroki team up for a mission, or snarl about how well midoriya thinks they match up in battle, or stick their together times under the umbrella of mission or class or work. he wants more. to spend time with him in stupid places like a restaurant, or sit on the same bed with his boyfriend's legs draped over his lap as they study, or wake in the early morning and take a few seconds to look at todoroki's sleeping face beside him in the light of the rising sun before getting on with his day. the little things that some people take for granted, that he never thought he'd have time or patience for... he wants them with this man.

he'll never be able to reclaim the time and experience that todoroki lost in his childhood. the scar on his face is as emblematic of that as those social faux passes and his clueless eyes blinking in weird moments. so he'll show him other experiences to have together, where they won't be robbed by the incessant demand to train. some of them might take a pickax to ice in order to chunk them out of the blonde's stubborn nature, but they'll come free eventually. for todoroki.

it feels irritating to lose that connection between them. misses the warm wrap of strong long legs around his waist, the tuck of his heels against his thighs. no longer flush to him with the sticky mess of their bodies as he reaches for the water and dips a hand in to test the temperature. of course it's still warm. this place is designed for comfort and pleasure. but never once does he leave his presence, staying exactly where he is between his knees and close to his chest, giving himself ample time and opportunity to touch his hand along todoroki's shoulder and chest for no reason other than to have connection with him.]

What the hell does that even mean? You'd say the same thing if we fucked in a normal hotel! [well, he'd better. his face flushes hot red at that "normal thing = loving you" comment and swiftly gets an arm shoving past to grab the washcloth from nearby. dammit, who gave him permission to say that kind of shit?! it went right to his heart and struck hard. for as awkward and weird as todoroki can be, people are ever fond of him. a boy who didn't think it mattered to be close to people. yet they thought he was cool, and even better when he opened up. they realized the friendly boy under the ice had a heart warmer than almost anyone, charming them further and leading their declaration to be friends. sometimes he wonders why the hell he's fallen for todoroki. and so many answers present themselves so quickly, it's embarrassing. making the reality of being together with him now all the more amazing.]

Whatever you want. [leaning in, he wraps his arm around his boyfriend's shoulders and pulls him in for another kiss. warm and long, eyes closed so he can focus completely on the taste of his mouth and the sensation of his lips on his own. pressing in nigh flush to his chest to feel each throb of his heart beating strong to his own. almost claiming, yet partially grateful, and wholly caught up in that sensation. if he ends up pressing forward and spilling todoroki back-first into the tub, following him in amid the water splashing around them, that's fine. no one's going to give him grief as he breaks the kiss long enough to breath, and goes right back in for another one.]

[hairsplit]

( whatever you want. something this small shouldn't mean something so big. for other people, he's sure that there had been plenty of chances to experience that sort of thing--to be taken to an amusement park and directed to pick any prize off the shelf, to be taken to a sweets shop and offered anything from the bins; he'd experienced so little of that growing up, enough that it had felt almost overwhelming to suddenly be thrust into dorm life, without any kind of instruction, without someone bearing down with hard rules. sometimes it's harder to parse what it is he wants for himself, amongst all of the noise of his childhood--where everything he wanted had been shut down, where everything he'd imagined having had been denied, where even asking for something as small as being able to spend time with his older brother had been vehemently refused. in the face of training, nothing else mattered. in the face of his quirk, nothing was more important than being the best.

and now, with bakugou--he says he can have whatever he wants. even bakugou is the type to like things to go a certain way, to have a clear-cut vision of how things should go: and he's been yelled at for going off-course, during missions, during dates, for driving things in a different direction, but bakugou's so enveloped in the moment with him that it doesn't matter what they do, as long as they're doing it together.

it's a smile, smothered into the kiss, even when bakugou's mouth overtakes his, even when his lips split to snake his tongue into the part of bakugou's mouth, claiming it in a heavy kiss; he can feel his weight tipping, his back sliding, and there's an almost undignified splash of hot water when he finally bends and sinks into the tub. blindly, his legs pull in, knees immediately spreading in an almost unabashed split--his arms hook and pull at bakugou's shoulders, dragging him in, forcing him past the rim of the tub to bring him in between his thighs. he can't see what he's doing, can't tell if they're splashing water over the tub or not; it's only filled a little, sinking up to his hips at best, but he's more concerned with keeping bakugou close than anything else. )

I want you. ( it's clear, a soft determination from a mouth that finally breaks free of the kiss to catch his breath--even his eyes, hazy with affection, twisted with attraction, demand the echo of bakugou's bright gaze; his tongue swipes over his lips, a little trickle of nerves. ) I just want you.

( bubbles would be nice. a playful tip of soap into the water, building up a bubble fortress around them, would be nice. teasing and splashing and soaking bakugou's hair in the hot bath water, spiking it out with his fingers, playing around and listening to the well-worn, tell-tale playful irritation in bakugou's voice: it would all be nice.

but none of that compares to having bakugou's strong weight between his thighs, to having his wet back to dig his fingers into, arms tightening to keep him close. his lips twist into another smile, faint, ducking his head in to take another brief kiss, a tease, just a wet brush of his mouth in and back again, as though allowing bakugou to decide which direction he wants to go.

is this what love feels like? it's such a strange thing. a heavy thing. but it's so unbelievably pleasant: it aches in all the best ways. )

[blastedass]

[whatever you want. their experiences are so different despite both of them being born with the proverbial golden spoon. wealth, intelligence, power, looks, health, everything offered in the best, yet one person changed all of it. despite the dysfunctional violence of his own household (with a timid father and aggressive mother) none of it had been the negative todoroki endured. he got what he wanted almost every time, often through his own hard work once he grew out of the demanding phase of his childhood. what card packs he desired from the toy store ended up in his hands, what foods he wanted to try ended up on a plate before him, a doting mother and father who praised him for his accomplishments and strengths, yet laid down enough rules his own pride and ego inflicted himself with such high expectations and demands so as to crow all the more about how amazing he was. an only child, a golden child, the rising star and biggest fish of his small pond. nothing was more important than being the best, not because someone else demanded it, but because he demanded it of himself and expected everyone else to see it as clear as crystal.

experience and maturity are a bitch and neither gave a shit about his glorious glass tower. he learned how others grew up so differently from him, people with nothing who worked their way up, people who endured abuse and suffering yet still glowed with a hero's heart. learning through todoroki how powerful it can be to tell someone "whatever you want" with no reserves or regrets. he offers that freely, so caught up in his feelings for this man, nothing matters at all so long as the man he loves is happy and they're together. it's so fucking sappy... but fuck if he's trying to stop it.

open air crashes into soaking wet, swallowing todoroki's back first before rushing around and plunging against his own chest and face. ignored for the sake of their kiss, bubbles rising in a muffled flurry around their faces and tangling in their hair amid the rising current. a tongue slips into his mouth as slick a serpent and he immediately latches on with a sensual suck, dragging at the slick muscles while his own rises to stroke and slide across its squirming length. thank fuck for the rounded edges of the tub or he would've shaved his shins to the bone against the rim. ungraceful, uncaring, flopping into the tub and pressing to todoroki's chest as arms wind around his strong shoulders, legs hook about his waist from a lewd straddle, his own legs somehow finding rise and time and flexibility to end up knelt on the bottom of the tub with a handsome beast clinging to him amid the water's cresting waves. it's a mess on the bathroom floor, water splashed out like two kids messing around in the tub, but... love hotel. it'll be fine. preparedness is key.]

Sap. You already have me. [even if it's what todoroki wants right now, he can slam that thought through his thick head as many times as he wants. kissing him amid the dripping water, kneeling with his mate in his lap as he rests his forehead against the other hero's brow. red eyes darkened to a husky crimson from affection and arousal, nerves tingling with a mixture of still-present afterglow and renewed interest in their togetherness.] Don't blow it. [not on something todoroki can claim as his own any time he damn well wants. of course he isn't going to fight him for it (too long) if the guy wants to be a romantic dork instead of cashing in his blank check. whatever you want, right? doesn't mean he won't rib the other hero for it.

ball dropped in his court, he leans into the kiss, one arm looping around todoroki's shoulders as fingers cup at the meat of his lower back with the other. hips rock forward, nudging between the toned lines of his thighs, muscles flexing beneath embracing calves and heels wrapped about his hips, chest and stomach sandwiching together water and more sensitive areas between them. lips to lips, tongues trading twines and flicks, breaking a second later to breathe, and sliding in once more as he presses todoroki to the tub wall. what does he want? they have all night, don't they. he hauls forward with one hand, fingers splayed over the base of his boyfriend's spine, tucking him even further up into his lap as their hips grind and rut together beneath the water. gathering him up in his body, arms protectively and possessively wound about him amid heavier kisses.] Don't bitch at me if you can't walk tomorrow.

[hairsplit]

( and that's something that he's thought, a thousand times: what if i blow it?

he doesn't worry that bakugou will leave him for something mediocre and silly, the way that girlfriends in television dramas seem to find the most minimal thing to blow up about, to tear their relationships to shreds over something like a misplaced tube of lipstick or a misunderstanding with a coworker. bakugou isn't that kind of person, the kind to make assumptions and not see them through, the kind to not want to thoroughly and determinedly ensure that what he has is the whole truth; rather, he seems so steadfast that it's almost terrifying, at times, as though he's afraid that he might do something wrong, inadvertently, and bakugou will still forgive him for it no matter how heinous he might find it himself. he doesn't want to do the wrong thing, doesn't want to mess up this precious thing that he's managed to get for himself--but how does he learn?

it's worried him, some, his lack of experience--and more than that, his lack of emotional experience, being unable to parse some situations, being unable to understand how to react. but the only thing he can do is keep going forward, and when he stumbles, he knows that despite bakugou's frustrations, or his sharp corrections: he cares. he helps. he doesn't just leave him there, floundering, unable to find a path forward. and with someone like that, could he really ever mess it up?

he doesn't want to take advantage of him, either--which is why he's always so gently determined to ensure that bakugou knows what he means to him, even when it's in the face of a little snarled lip of amusement and the declaration that he's being a sap; his own mouth tries to fit into a pout of dismay, but the kissing keeps him too busy, bakugou's tongue keeps him too busy, and the press of bakugou's hips up against his earns a soft grunt into the kiss, something interested, something pointed.

the water wants to keep him light, balanced--his legs cling, wrapped firmly around bakugou's hips, keeping him close enough to roll up against him, to feel them touch, skin to skin, and even with the break of the kiss, his breath trembles, a shiver of heat that goes through him at the thought. )

That's what you want? ( he wants it to be a tease, but it's hard when most of his attention is devoted to the feeling of bakugou pressed against him, and his own back sandwiched to the wall of the tub, trapped in bakugou's possessive cling; the thought of bakugou inside of him makes his dick twitch despite himself, and embarrassed, his breath tremors out in a little moan. ) Say you want it then. That...

( if he gets what he wants, then he can be a little demanding, right? hazy, his gaze tries to focus up on bakugou's face above his, but he can't hold it; his tongue laps over bakugou's lower lip, and without thinking, skims his teeth over it all the same, sucking it lightly into his mouth before he lets it go. )

Want to hear it. Say it.

[blastedass]

[doubt has never been a luxury he long affords himself. so many times he's felt ice clench at his stomach, standing in front of an obstacle towering over him or yawning beneath him. whether it's some damn monster his survival instinct screams at him to run from because he has no chance of winning, or a young man he watches in the sunlight while his mind generates a fabulous string of "... ... ... what am i doing?" in regards to making said boy happy. a wrong move, a wrong word, a wrong intent, and everything could be destroyed. what if i fail?

each time that question rises in his mind, his response remains the same: crush the fucking life out of that shitty whisper! he won't fail at gaining his victory and he won't fail at making todoroki the happiest person on the face of this earth! why? because i will! will win, will succeed, will move forward, stronger, faster, better. living with worry in his life, looking back in concern, drumming over what could've been, all of it's a waist of his time. he takes what he knows of his opponent, of his attraction, and makes his choice to move. what kind of person is todoroki? what sort of things bring his small smile? what sort of things make him fear?

the way he tensed when a bowl slipped from his fingers and cracked on the sink, to haunting look of his eyes lingering on his back when he made to leave the room after an argument, to awkward expression on his face when he didn't know the different aspects between spit and proper lube. several time he's seen todoroki flicker with worry and doubt about himself. as if "that" would be the final straw. for as powerful as he is, there are parts of him still so young and underdeveloped. stumbled with a bloody knee, knowing he had to get up and move forward all by himself... until he didn't. because someone else was there to offer a hand out, take hold of his strong grip, and pull him up. that's his way of showing todoroki how to handle each doubt in his mind. his version of victory. so long as his boyfriend wonders if he'll blow it, he'll be there to lift him up and remind him each time that he hasn't. and never will. until todoroki believes it.

it's not taking advantage. it's part of being in a relationship, isn't it. those little moments when the other boy earns a snarl for being a sap or being stupid or getting too cozy, they make him growl while they warm his heart every time. feeling his lips on the top of his head because someone's getting too cocky with his dumb extra inches of height. or the way his mouth quirks into an attempted pout and fails because he kisses it right off his face. or how his fingers curl in his own as he winds their digits together while shoving his tongue into his boyfriend's mouth. keeping him here, focused, determined, on him. even if he's smushed between the tub wall and the blonde's hips and thighs.]

Bastard. You're gonna make me say it. [is this not enough for his greedy pretty ears? to be pinned flush against his body. a low husk melts across todoroki's mouth, teeth gripping at a plush lower lip and dragging back to stretch it before it bounces back to place. he's always loved this feeling of his boyfriend clinging to him, whether his long legs knotted around his waist, fitting perfectly on the arch of his pelvis, or strong arms thrown around his shoulders, fingers digging lines into his back. holding on because he's the only thing grounding him right now. each roll electrifies his skin, rutting himself onto his boyfriend's torso and as he rests his forehead to todoroki's brow. skin to skin, lips to lips, heart to heart. and soon, even deeper...]

Tch, ordering me around. I outta wreck you. [slotting forward, deliberately close enough todoroki's twitching arousal quivers on his abs, hiking him just enough on his hips he's got the taller teen up on his heels with his rear nestled between the blonde's thighs, floating in the water with his cock nuzzling between the spread globes of his ass. a grin tugs the corners of his mouth, leaning his head forward into todoroki's personal space and letting those small laps flick at his lower lip in needy motions.] Brat... I wanna fuck you until you're screaming.

[until that ice is broken and melted and todoroki's raw with sensation to the point of throwing his normal stoic demeanor right out the proverbial window. shifting on his shins and knees, moving to slot the head of his dick against his boyfriend's clenching ring, only then backing his chest and arms off a scant distance enough to let the other hero's weight drag him down slightly in the water. denting his body and threatening to push right through.] Until all you feel and think is me. [this time, he's the one biting at todoroki's lips, nipping as his fingers cup at his glutes and caress his lower body possessively.] Because you're mine... Shouto...

[simultaneously looping his fingers over the tops of his thighs and pushing down, penetrating that last barricade and slowly sliding into tight, hot, wet, spasming, heartbeats, inch by amazing inch.]

[hairsplit]

( is it ever not going to be embarrassing? no, maybe embarrassing isn't the right word for it, because it's not like he wants to put his face in his hands, not like he wants to push his way out of the choppy bath water, find the sheets of the hotel bed and drag them up over himself to melt away. it's not that he's ashamed, or that he feels that he should be ashamed, when bakugou says exactly what he'd asked for--but his face still flushes, despite all of the circular heat in his body, a blush that moves from his cheeks across to his ears, like the feeling might just light him aflame. it always feels this way, when bakugou gets so hyperfocused on something like this: because it makes him feel like the sole center of bakugou's attention, like there's something more that he can give him, something more than just to be the tool that he's always been told to be. and it had never really occurred to him, when they'd fallen into this at the beginning: that for as much as bakugou would spread himself out beneath him, legs coiled around his hips, that bakugou would want the same thing out of him.

it feels--overwhelming, in a way, and maybe that's the part that's embarrassing, that makes him feel a little awkward; it's such a foreign thing, to be wanted so wholly, to be wanted in ways that he's never been wanted before, to be good enough at something that he's never really done before. but his body knows it, even when his mind is floundering--his legs adjust, his thighs tense, his hips move, and every part of him is guided with the water, with bakugou's touch, sliding and slipping and arching to meet him.

he can't even say anything back: can't tease him, can't even thank him, though he wants to--clumsily, it's just his breath pattering past his lips, his breath arching into the kiss bakugou gives him, the way his lip pulls, and it's just a panted catch of surprise, despite himself, when he can feel bakugou's dick pressed against that tight ring of muscle, clenching despite himself. how can it feel so hot and then bakugou can say something like that, and it chills him? despite the heat of the water, he can feel goosebumps start, his arms doubling in around bakugou's neck as he forces himself to relax--his teeth lock together, ducking his head in like he might hide it into bakugou's neck. )

It's good, that's good... ( muffled, his voice strained, hidden in against bakugou's skin--his legs tighten, ankles hooked together, trying not to move an inch while bakugou's sinking inside of him, like he might miss some part of it if he even twitches in response. ) Katsuki.

( still stubbornly hidden from view, his teeth skim bakugou's neck before he tilts his head the other way, wet hair splattered in against bakugou's jaw and neck, taking in a trembling breath. )

It's good...

( like he can't quite fathom saying anything else: things like i'm yours sound so trite, and his head can't seem to wrap around them when his focus is on how tight it feels, squeezing around bakugou's cock, how he can feel the swell of his own erection trapped for attention between them; he can feel his legs slip a little, with the slickness of bakugou's skin, and with another shaking breath, he finally lets his head fall back, draped along the back of the tub instead.

if he can't quite get the words out yet, then he at least wants to look at him: wants bakugou to see the way his lashes shake, the way his mouth splits open with breath, the way he's completely under the spell of the moment when it's with him. )

[blastedass]

[unfair. crimson flushes across a face fair as snow, accenting both white and red sides of his hair in similar style. embarrassed? no. shy? not really? touched? definitely. blood rushes to todoroki's face and no force on earth could stop the way his head gravitates towards the other man's. tilting as eyes close, finding the perfect tone of his lover's lips and sealing his mouth together with his in a lock. hot, wet, soft, teeth fitting seamlessly. screw some chaste plush of puckered lips for a simple smack. he opens his mouth and kisses him hard and passionate. taste him. feel him. the shape of his mouth, the curve of his lips, cupid's bow nuzzling to his own as his heart slams in his chest as if it can leap free and settle snug and safe within todoroki's own. only permitting a few seconds of contact before he presses his tongue past his jaws and spills it into his boyfriend's mouth. connected in so many ways all at once, bodies touching mouth, chests, arms, legs, skin, skin, fucking more skin. until he can't tell where his body ends and todoroki's begins. feel him, reaching inside, around, covering, wanting this man to know he wants only him.

there are scars he can't heal, unable to brush his hand across them and leave his skin fair and perfect. but as he tilts his head the opposite way, mouths breathing enough to reveal twin tangling muscles writhing together amid saliva and needy panting breaths, he claims in silent worship this man is perfect to him. no matter his wounds, his hurt, his frustrating naivety, his history, his strength, none of that shit matters as he gathers todoroki into his body. muscles flex around his shoulders as he wraps one arm from left to right, another hooks round the supple arch of his lower back to gather him into his lap. no tool, no curse, no mistake, no vessel, no scar, no hero. right now, with him, todoroki is his. and there are many words trailing after his heated claim.

no need to thank or tease or say anything. words pour from his body with every flex of strong muscle. thighs snag around his waist, knees tenting towards his ribs, biceps squishing to his shoulders, ass tightening so greedily around his cock. he catches todoroki's lower lip between his teeth, tongue driving firm and hot across his captured skin. the sounds of his low sonorous voice moaning into their combined steam bleeds hot and raw into his ears, encouraging another curl of his hips and rocking upward to drive his shaft further inside his lover's squelching grip. god, he's searing, as if his cock's going to burn off in his molten clutch. so tight and snug around every part of him possible, even as he feels todoroki stretching almost painfully to take all of him in. raw sensations force his boyfriend's abs into a clenching spasm as he bottoms out inside his rump, swinging his hips close into his lap thanks to a pair of athletic arms tightening around his traps and nape. finally letting him break the kiss with a husky pant. tch... he misses todoroki's mouth already.]

"Good"? [husking from his lips in a dangerous, lust-thickened growl. fingers dig into his shoulder's meat, squeezing down onto his split delta and massaging his joint "angrily" with each kneading ripple. oh fuck, he loves this sensation, not only todoroki's hole stretching and squeezing every sensitive inch of his glans and shaft, but the sensation of his ankles knotting behind his tailbone, toes curling in intense pleasure, calves straining wire taught in effort to alleviate some of his pressure. when he feels so damn good, nothing else matters. and yet...] Gonna piss me off, Shouto...

[muscles harden, coiling under his soaking skin as tension springs. all the way inside, buried to his balls within his lover's ass, and it's not good enough. fuck, hearing him say his name, clear and breathy. also not good enough. his hand drops, strong fingers splaying over one globe of todoroki's ass. gripping hard enough to make dents in his toned glute. teeth in his neck, eyes buried under his two-toned bangs plastered to his skin, nuzzling and turning with a wet splat on his flesh. that quivering breath... fuck, all of it's not enough.]

It's not good enough if you just feel fucking "good", Shouto. [deepening to a sneer and snarl, love and arousal burning in his eyes as every long cable in his thighs harden and he crashes upward in a surge. water splashes behind todoroki's back, spilling over their tub's rim as he drives his lover a few inches ascent on the wall. clinging to him, pulling him in close as he fucks hard through his breathless voice and repeated phrase. his cock pulses and throbs within the other man's spasming walls, rubbing furiously with his heated thrusts. in and out, in and out, slamming into todoroki's ass with a burning fervor. as soon as his head falls back, baring his beautiful throat, he leans in and attacks it, teeth finding the swell of his voicebox. clamping down in a claiming, animalistic bite, marking him.] I want you to feel it so hard, "good's" a damn insult.

[pounding into him until todoroki's bouncing on his hips amid the water, legs desperately holding on as he ruts into him over and over. not stopping until he's shaken his breath into gasps and pants and he's making more noise than before. only then does he capture his mouth again, pouring his tongue inside and making out hot and heavy with his lover. wanting him to feel it, how important he is to him, how hard his heart's going.] I love you, you gorgeous idiot. And I'm not gonna stop until I brand that into your body.

[hairsplit]

( like always, the admiration for what bakugou can do is almost enough to split his thoughts in with shame. the fact that bakugou can just say things like that, can just tell him that he loves him, compliment him, demand things of him without wavering, without trembling on the words like they aren't the right things to say; the fact that bakugou can gather him up in his arms and squeeze him in close, slide him in more over his lap to give himself more clearance, more room to rock and lash the water in around them with his movements. it's almost overwhelming enough that his hands want to lift, to cover his face, hide in the brace of his arms, like he can't let bakugou see the face that he's making after all--like he's so afraid of baring it all in the same way, in more than just the twist of lust and arousal and greed that makes his legs tighten, heels skidding against bakugou's tailbone before regrouping to hook in again, stubborn. he's most exposed this way, when it's bakugou between his legs, slid tight inside of him, fucking him like he won't let up--it's the closest that he's ever let another person be, and even when it's him between bakugou's legs, rutting him into the pillows, into sheets sticky with precum and sweat, it doesn't hit him with the same quivering fear.

it's easy to look good, when he's the one that's got the control. it's harder to let that sort of thing go, to let the walls drop, to allow his reactions to be telegraphed across his skin, his lips, his eyes, his throat, instead of reading them before letting them out, allowing only the best things to shine through. here, he's completely exposed to bakugou's touch, and more than that, it's the feelings that he's awash in, just like the bathwater, that heat him up from the inside out, his face now too flushed to even bother trying to get it under control. because who the hell else could say something like that? he'd never once considered that someone could really love him, not like this, and then somehow he'd fallen right into it all--

it's so hard to contend with that, to try to understand it, when bakugou's cock drives up inside of him, when he can feel the wet skin of his sac slapping in against the curve of his ass; his mouth gapes, lips parted, desperate for breath that he can't get a hold of, not when his throat is betraying him with soft little groans of pleasure, punctuated by the roll of bakugou's hips up against him, relentless and sure. bakugou's mouth skims his throat, biting at it, and then he's up over his lips, sealing him into a messy kiss that he can only hold onto for so long; he has to break it apart, his head falling back, gasping for a heady breath. )

Don't say stuff like that... ( the words come out as less of a command and more like begging; a part of him wants to laugh, wants to cry, because the feeling is too intense, riding so hard on the edge of an orgasm that he knows is going to be a little too blinding, with the way bakugou's attention rolls over him. ) I love you, I love you, I'm so close I'm--

( where is the rest of that thought? he can't find it, his tongue tied up in other things, another breathy sigh of pleasure, his legs so tight that bakugou can barely move within the clutches of his thighs. one arm gropes in around bakugou's neck, squeezing at him, but the other wanders, gripping at the edge of the bath like it'll keep them both from toppling over; he can hear the splash of the water around them, tumbling over the porcelain, staining the floor, but he doesn't care. the feelings are starting to converge, blocking out all his thoughts, a husky laugh escaping just out of the sheer shiver of pleasure that bakugou's movements force into him. )

Make it even better, come on. ( it's the warmth of a challenge that he doesn't even have to give: but the hazy stare of lidded eyes falls onto bakugou's handsome face, and despite his own blush, he's starting to smile, like some lovedrunk idiot that's had one cup too many, his hair a wet tangle around his face. ) Harder. I'm almost there, I'm gonna come, I want to come, don't leave me behind...

[blastedass]

[he'll drag it out of him. todoroki's heat and heart. until this bastard's not ashamed to hear him say things so bluntly when he's got the same damn capacity licking behind his mouth. pisses him off; this guy can spew the dumbest shit with the straightest face, yet stumbles red-faced and pouting over a few simple words. he should hate it, but damn if charm works through his ire and seizes into his heart. another element of todoroki he loves, prompting him to latch onto his throat and bite at this stupid sexy column so capable of choking on things his lover wants to say. he sucks, he drags, pulling blood to the surface and snapping tiny vessels underneath until his mark's left behind. veins throb blow his tongue, dragging wet and languid over a tormented blemish he made himself on his boyfriend's skin. all to hear him gasp and choke on his breath as he drives up into him over and over. one arm cupped around his shoulders, fingers digging into the meat of well-formed muscle covering the round; the other loops about his lower back, hyper aware of his narrow waist fitting perfectly in the crux of his embrace. pulling him bodily forward until todoroki's gathered in his lap, impaled skin to skin as they connect over and over in a deep dance. he loves him, loves the way he responds, the way he talks, the way he sounds. if it mortifies him to hear it... too fucking bad.

god damn. feels as if his face is burning off his skull. he's the one who's supposed to be in control, supposed to be putting todoroki through this pleasurable wringer. why's it him shuddering as those long legs tighten around his hips? right, because he likes it so damn much. feeling each cable in his thigh ripple and pull taut on the arch of his pelvis as he thrusts up to the hilt. right there, huh? when he drops him until every inch buries inside and his balls curve a heady slap in the water on his cheeks. groans rumble in his chest, puffing through the seal of his lips and todoroki's neck as his mind grasps more details. each thrust and the other hero's trying to find some kind of grounding, digging his heels into his tailbone, grinding them against the top of his ass each time his hips roll and ruts up into his boyfriend once more. halfway out and one slips, jutting a foot a few inches behind him. he lets todoroki slip and drop himself onto the length of his dick, right before he leans in and bites down on the opposite side of his neck. heh, he likes that. managing to stifle some noise, but failing to stop his scrambling ankles knotting together over his cleft. stubborn boy... he should force him to say it, but it's so as intense to hear it directly from his body.

breaking him free of that control. fire and ice in one. normally so composed and calm, even sweltering as they make love, he's seen his beautiful face gazing down above with barely a quivering lip, flushed cheeks and dazed eyes. swears he's seen steam leak out of his skin and ears from time to time. yet as beautiful as that is, there's a whole different side, when his teeth grit and his eyes hide behind his bangs, sweat drips as control evaporates into intense motions leaving them both bouncing on the sheets. he loves both sides of him, fire and ice. when he's barely in control of himself, and like now, when he's ripping todoroki's inhibitions to shot via both action and word. burying himself inside a velvet tunnel squeezing him hard enough to make him think their flesh melded. hauling him up onto his body until nothing but his head remains inside, smirking into his gaping mouth and gulping breaths, threatening a kiss, before tightening both arms around his mate and yanking him back down to seal inside again. the bones in todoroki's neck go limp, dropping his head back, soaking bangs falling towards his temples, and he can't resist another bite to his exposed throat.]

I'll say whatever I want! Until you hear it each time I touch you! [romantic, passionate crap he'd be yelling at todoroki for daring to say to him. teeth mark once more, leaving another claim on his throat as he pounds up into him. feeling his own dick bounding crazily between their stomachs, slapping in the water against one set of abs before bouncing off the opposing set like an abused tent pole. panting breaths affirming his love... each one stabs through his heart, reminding him repeatedly what they have here. together. he draws back enough to work his way up, trailing todoroki's neck to his chin before gripping it between his teeth and tugging down, forcing that drooped head back towards him. all so he can claim his mouth once more with another heated, devouring kiss. no more thrusting now. all he can do is rut, rocking his hips on the bathtub floor and stirring his shaft deep inside his boyfriend's ass. oozing precum slathers over his prostate with each grind, filling him up in preparation for what's collecting in the cradle of his pelvis. nothing matters now, nothing but todoroki... todoroki... todorok-!!]

--!! [hard. it came hard. too hard. one moment he's ravaging his boyfriend's mouth, kissing and groaning, panting and gasping, the next second, everything's going white. almost there, almost there, gonna come, gonna come, erupts into there and coming. clinging to him like some possessive monster, he latches onto every available piece of his lover's body. fingers sinking into his shoulder, digging into his sides, knees tenting upward in a trapping V to gather him permanently into his lap in a selfish claim. wants to bite him, fails to do so, only spills his voice into his mouth with the same intensity as his body spills his seed into his lover's. pumping hot and endless inside, coming to the beat of his heart and slam of his core muscles like a fucking bellow squeezing itself dry. balls seize up against todoroki's ass, smooth sac pulled taut over them as he pours everything else out. so damn hot and tight, clamping around him inside as much as outside. "good" doesn't describe this. it's heaven. ecstasy. fucking perfect. bastard, how the hell can he ever think he'd leave him behind? he's staying with him, even if it means branding him in mind and body with himself until todoroki's forgotten where he ends and his boyfriend begins.]

[hairsplit]

( it's a terrifying feeling, the way that his body works without his permission--the way that his legs tighten, loosen, tighten up again, heels skidding against bakugou's body, the way that his arm clutches, long fingers digging into hard muscle, groping only to loosen and grip again. the way that his head lolls, his lips parting, the way that even his voice doesn't feel like it's following any of his commands, panting with open-mouthed breath, hitches and gasps of pleasure with every movement. bakugou keeps gathering him up, tethering him closer, and every inch that he tries to put between them gets eaten up again, impaled on the hot length of bakugou's cock buried so deep inside of him that he's almost embarrassed. that, too, is a feeling that his body won't let him have; sweat drips, beads, bundles up under his bangs, the messy hang of them smeared to his forehead and his temples--his quirk's out of control, the usual temperate, calm heat of his body now gone haywire, overcorrecting and desperate for to provide some kind of release--sweat hisses out to steam, chills to goosebumps, circles around and works again.

because it's too much. it's too much, and not enough at the same time; bakugou drags him in and his body moves like a doll, gathered up easily in the touch, in his grip, molded and fitted to every movement without complaint. it feels like sinking into something dangerous--and is that just because it always felt dangerous? caring for someone, loving someone, it had always seemed like a weakness, had always seemed like something that would end in pain. he doesn't know if his parents even loved each other, or if everything had just been orchestrated to create some picture perfect masterpiece: he doesn't know if it had been love that had taken his brother away, or something else more nefarious. and if he can't understand it, if he's afraid of it, then how can he feel it?

like this, with bakugou's breath over his neck. like this, with his teeth against it, marking him up, drawing up welted bruises that he'll wear with some clumsy, embarrassed pride for the next few days--like this, with bakugou's voice melting into his ear, tumbling right down into his chest and stomach. it would be stupid to not know it; he loves him. he can say it. he's said it. but it's still--

it's overwhelming. his whole body presses into pleasure, and even when his head is lulled back up again with the movement, even when they meet in a desperate kiss, sloppy, wet with sweat and saliva and desire, he feels like his emotions are in a blender: even when he feels bakugou rut inside of him, pumping him full of heat, he feels like his nerve endings are on fire, set ablaze and then flash frozen into shape, like he could laugh or cry or groan with equal enthusiasm, and it would all mean the same thing--that he can't imagine ever loving someone like this, that he can't ever imagine someone other than bakugou like this, claiming him, wanting him, marking him with teeth and tongue and breath and orgasm.

it's a mess, when he comes between them: when his cock jerks, splashes up against his own stomach, when his head bows in and his fingers dig like he might bruise bakugou with the touch; the heat of it dribbles between them, sticky and wet and warm against both their bodies, and his free hand relinquishes the tub edge only to double down around bakugou's neck, clinging to him as he rides him, rides his orgasm until it's blinding, until it hurts, until it feels nearly too sensitive to have his cock trapped between them. boneless, his body curves, slumps in against bakugou, clinging to him like he's the only thing keeping him aware of the moment--his face tucks down, braced to the side of bakugou's neck like he's afraid of what his face might look like; he inhales the scent of him there, clinging despite himself--and lets out a shaky, croaked sort of laugh, muffled against bakugou's skin. )

I can't get up. ( it's mumbled there, soft and almost petulant. ) Not getting up....

( his legs feel like jelly, where they tentatively loosen around bakugou's hips, tension draining out of them; he's boneless but trying so hard to keep clinging to him like he can't let him go. )

[blastedass]

[he should be embarrassed or concerned how much pleasure his orgasm-wracked brain takes from how easily he's able to manhandle his boyfriend's clinging body. lifting and pulling him close, aided by strong legs hooked around his ribs and waist, heels digging into his buttocks and thighs each time todoroki slips an inch. an inch he corrects with tightening hands cupping under his boyfriend's ass and gripping at his shoulder blades until he has him plastered all over his chest. muscles harden, pectorals flex and flatten against each other with nipples flaring up under different temperatures. right side cool, left side warm, perking the nubs into pebbles the more they grind together. he feels like he could move todoroki anywhere, anyhow he wants, so long as the other man refuses to let go of him with anything. arms, legs, mouth, breath, mind, heart. he wants to be surrounded by him and him alone, sunk into bliss of his boyfriend's body. until all doubt is banished from this beautiful man's soul as to how much he cares for him.

teeth skim across his neck, scraping salty lines over cords until he feels him shudder. he drags his whites from the underside of todoroki's jaw to the dip of his clavicle, leaving his skin tender for the following lave of his tongue upward. caressing his path just now taken and loving over the bruises he's left previously. someone's gonna have to flip his collar up tomorrow or wear a scarf. and he can't find it in himself to be embarrassed. they should know, everyone should, that todoroki is loved.

walking into school, he only saw the scar-faced pretty body with a bastard mask of solemnity, looking down on everyone like he was better than them. he saw his power gleaming in towering overwhelming ice, felt for the first time a dread and uncertainty in his chilled chest. that very person... how'd it come to this? with todoroki's head dropped against the tiled wall, his mouth hanging open with blissful pants, every line and detail of his beautiful face glistening in sweat as he traces over each facet he's come to love. kiss-swollen lips, defined pectorals heaving with his gasping air, jaws and cheeks moving with hinting rolls of his tongue behind his bared teeth. this is the boy he's come to love, the one he can pleasure and bring to such a molten state from beneath his usual cool exterior. melting him from the inside out as he pumps the final dregs of his cum into his ass. the best part is feeling how tightly todoroki squeezes him, as if he's swallowing his essence further into himself and refusing to let a drop escape. greedy boy.

fuck, he's going to pass out, he wants to, strung up in the passionate bliss of his boyfriend's body milking his member in desperate strangles, touching all the right places as he ruts up between his cheeks and grinds into his ass. fingers dent his muscle, threatening a painful massage, and molten heat bursts between them, splattering todoroki's chiseled torso with his own seed. he fights through the throes of his own passion to crack his eyes, wanting to watch his lover's orgasmic bliss as he claims him as his, branding his insides with a flood while todoroki spills his own answer all over his skin. clinging to his neck with his hands, riding him with rhythmic squeeze of his legs. until everything finally goes boneless and limp, crashing them into a pool of afterglow. he surges forward, half-falling flush to his chest and head, smashing todoroki between the wall and his body. a knee to the tub, both hands clutching his body and cradling him in his lap. head tilting to the side as a warm face nuzzles and hides in his neck. he feels it burning from here, panting breaths ghosting his skin over and over. until a rattling sex-rasped laugh puffs along the column of his neck.]

No shit... I'm holding you. [he turns his head, find his neck, and peppers his skin with small bites and kisses, not caring to know which time he does when. legs loosen and both hands drop to catch him under thigh and knee, stubbornly holding his boyfriend's limbs around his waist where they should stay. refusing to lose that blissful feeling of todoroki anchoring him as if he's the greatest most valuable treasure in the world.] Fuck, you're ridiculous, Shouto...

[hairsplit]

Mmm. ( it feels like the only agreement he can manage, some small, hummed bliss of amusement in the back of his throat, husky and worn; sure, he doesn't mind being ridiculous. if being ridiculous means that he can be here, wrapped up around bakugou, then he'll be ridiculous. he'll be whatever it is he has to be, to stay here. )

But the tub is...wet.

( this, too, is a ridiculous murmur from somewhere within the crook of bakugou's neck, where he breathes in the scent of him--where he gets distracted, for a moment, taking in the scent of his wet hair, the slight sting of his sweat on his shoulders, on his back, mixing with the splash of the lukewarm bathwater; it would be tempting just to stay here, tempting just to heat up the water himself and sink down into it, tempting to just keep his arms and legs propped up around bakugou like he's a pillow pushed in for sleep. but already, he's losing tension in his legs, despite the way that bakugou palms at him, encourages him to keep his hold; like training, he considers it a challenge, his knees tenting up again, his heels digging in, but he can only keep it for another moment longer before his thighs start to fall apart again, as though he's going to bare himself wide open.

the thought makes him laugh, a little. ridiculous, maybe. there's no inch of him that bakugou hasn't seen, hasn't touched with his lips, or his tongue; that earns a slight shiver, and he realizes that he's going to have to steady his body heat if he wants any hope of trying to wrangle actual thoughts into his head. a slow breath passes, chilled and then tingling up into steam, as he gently lets his head loll back, letting his messy hair hit the back of the porcelain there, like he might just turn his cheek to the edge of the bath and close his eyes for good.

right. but the tub is wet. he was trying to go somewhere, with that; his tongue snakes out, wetting his lips, before he forces his eyes open again. )

We need to clean up and get towels. ( there, that had been the rest of the thought: like this, looking up at bakugou, he can feel himself smiling, and it's so strange to not immediately want to swallow it down; his arms loosen, but that's only so that he can bring one hand up, raking and combing long fingers back through damp blonde strands, brushing it out here and there, away from bakugou's face at random.

his thoughts derail again, but he can't be blamed for it. ) You're handsome.

( that smile stretches again, a little cheeky, like he can't believe he just said it out of nowhere--and he knows precisely what bakugou's reaction will be, but he loves it anyway. there's something so comforting about being able to just be himself without boundaries; normally he's trying to ensure that whatever he says isn't something that's going to be taken the wrong way, or something that will get him into trouble, measuring his understanding of social situations with his understanding of the kind of person that he's expected to be.

bakugou just expects him to be this--himself, a little love drunk, peppered and marked with so many little nips and pulls of teeth and tongue that he'll have to shrug his shoulders up if he wants to hide them at all. maybe he doesn't. does it matter if their friends look at them tomorrow morning and know precisely where they've been? it makes him feel warm in a good way, in his stomach, like a giddy bundle of butterflies. )

[blastedass]

Hn. [can't even form words at the moment? way to stroke his pride, todoroki. feels like every nerve in his damn body is hyper aware of everything right now. lapping water around his legs, heated muscle and skin compressing his dick, thudding heart slamming beneath two strong pectorals so close to his own chest. his body and limbs wrapped around him like a bunch of living ribbon occasionally trying to avoid sliding off. damn...]

Of course it's wet, you dumbass. [what a stupid todoroki thing to say, and don't you dare start getting fuzzy hearted and warm because of it! shitty body. stomp stomp stomp down those happy little thoughts about how cute his boyfriend is and wondering what else he might say if he fucks him out of his mind again. ah damn, he's starting to loosen up. thighs no longer pressing as tightly to his hips, knees easing away from his ribs, feet sliding off their planted state against his knees, even with his hands trying to encourage todoroki's legs to keep right where they are. he doesn't want to lose this feeling yet, growling at himself for being unable to enforce his own will on that hot, clinging body plastered to his own. of course he could tell him, snarl into his ear to hold on... but no snarls come. only a lazy run of his hand along todoroki's thigh backwards towards his knee. all to catch him under the crook and prevent his leg from dropping into the tub too hard. fine. come down. he'll handle it.

sinew flexes and gravity slips downward as he makes the harsh choice of lowering his own body. knees bend and he grunts in annoyance as his cock finally slips free of todoroki's squelching grip with a gentle 'pop' he feels too sharply in his hips. probably leaking a bit of white from his entrance underwater before he closes up. droplets fall from his hair with soft plips into the bath, reminding him they're gonna have to flush the bath afterwards. made a mess inside. it's the risk of a love hotel having a damn bath in the first place. todoroki's head hits the wall with a soft 'thump', baring his throat without thinking about who remains threaded between his legs. meaning he's leaning in and taking his throat's column between his teeth. more a bite than a kiss, hot breath ghosting across a swallow-dipped tube as he runs his tongue across what part's trapped within his jaws. wants to leave a mark, teeth or sucking... buuut he resists and breaks the bite-of-a-kiss before leaning back as he comes to rest on his knees in the tub, todoroki sitting on his lap in a sandwich between solid abs and smooth ceramic wall.]

Don't get bossy with me; you can't even feel your damn legs. [whose fault is that? lips curve in a bare frown, eyes flattening slightly as flexible fingers card through his hair. pushes his bangs away from his forehead and into the normal bed of spikes blown out from his head, leaving his forehead bare and his put-out expression in full view. saying they need to get out of the tub right before he starts playing with his hair. fuck. this bastard's having too much fun for just coming off being completely fucked out! he'll need to wreck him even harder next time.]

Sap. [say such crap. it doesn't do a damn thing. if by "damn thing" he means earns a lean in and lips to his own. kissing him firmly, head tilting in a way nigh instinctive by now. finds their best fit, jaws meeting and teeth opening with lips parting. so comfortable, so many times they've come together like this. it shouldn't affect him so much, hearing todoroki confess such sappy things. but memories of who he was at the start of U.A. eternally remind him of how far his boyfriend's come. how amazing and strong he is. how he's become his own man despite everything he's been through and what was laid on his shoulders. who the fuck wouldn't love such a strong heart blooming into a life he deserved for so long. kissing him feels like a reward, or a gift, and he lets himself be greedy with it for a few long seconds. maybe with a bit of tongue towards the end when he finally breaks it and a strand of saliva stretches between their mouths amid heated breath.

right. they should probably get out of the tub.] Hold onto me. [because he's bracing his legs and feet. heaves upward in a rush of water sloshing and splattering all over the place as it pours off their bodies, crashes back into the tub, making a lewd noise of liquid emergence as he pins todoroki's back to the wall-- yes it's cold in comparison --and slides him up it until he's straight up on both legs. now the other hero can try to get his own limbs down under him and see if they work.] I'm not carrying you outta the damn tub.