[if he did, he has a distinct feeling getting on top of denji would equate to riding him... tch, something he'll deal with later. he's already made the decision, even if he knows the other boy would be willing to try it. would he try getting fucked? two months ago, denji was hard straight as far as bakugou knew, and now he's grinding against him and pulling his clothes off. or would he just use his mouth? ... fuck, now the blonde's wondering about his own damn mouth. denji's unfortunately fallen for someone who's competitive in everything, even if it's pretty shallow at times. including how breathless he can leave the other boy if he's really gonna shove his dick up his ass.
like a laser, his brain locks onto the eager way denji responds to the hand in his hair. voice thickening, hands clenching, body hardening. bakugou refuses to pull it (yet) but he does push his hand through denji's hair more deliberately, not having a path and simply running it from front to back, dragging to the side, caressing in a circular rush because he can't fucking think straight right now when denji making out with him like this. that damn, subtle laugh earns a soft grown from the young hero and he glares up at the half-devil when denji leans back to acknowledge that. he'd be tempted to kick him if the guy weren't so completely flushed red with arousal and pupil-blown with desire.]
Get back down here.
[the window's passed and he doesn't regret it. he'll bitch later, because he does, but letting denji take control is okay. they can wrestle about things later. maybe sooner than they think. fast or slow, so long as it's with denji, it'll be fine. bakugou's not made of glass, even if his nerves are shooting up from the reality of this situation. so he grapples for him, touching his skin and feeling up denji's body without shame or hesitation. a shudder ripples through and he chases it, running from the base of the other boy's spine up to the nape of his neck, from the top of his chest down to the v of his pelvis. desire... yeah. attraction... of course. it's even better when that damn shirt gets hauled overhead and out of the way. bakugou's eyes burn with interest, watching denji's arms flex as he sheds the material off his head and down his arms, muscles flexing in his shoulders and limbs, hair bouncing a bit when the collar scuffs off, leaving him shirtless and flushed, impressive lines visible as neither of them give a shit about where the shirt lands. bakugou spreads his fingers over denji's chest, palms settling on his pectorals as his thumbs brush along the inside of his sternum. why's he look even better this way? hair tousled, cheeks pink, lips a little wet from kissing...
his elbows hit the bed as denji swarms him again, but bakugou refuses to give up the manhandling of his boy's chest, forcing the half-devil to arch a bit to reach his mouth. he lifts his head from the pillow to assist at least, mouth making an eager mess of denji's. there's blood pretty soon, but the sting's on the other side, leaving bakugou to realize the other boy cut his tongue, or lip, or whatever, on his teeth. so damn eager. the coppery taste lingers in the mellow o denji's saliva as they swap it between their mouths, tongue pressing inside and curving along his palate before dragging over rows of teeth. tch- there's a nick. he's not surprised he's leaking a drop or three of his own blood into denji's mouth. guess there's always going to be some crimson when you're making out with denji. he opens his mouth as their jaws part, letting the half-devil lick his lip, panting softly between them.]
Haa... ngh... [he can't stop a little sound of annoyance as those sharp teeth catch his earlobe, sending shivers rippling across his skin and making his shoulder hike up on instinct. that's fucking sensitive, dammit! it makes the shell flush red almost immediately. bakugou tightens his hand on denji's bare shoulder when his friend shoves his hand down his pants. shit-! he's really-! the hem scrapes down his thighs and he snarls in a heavy voice as he tugs one knee up, helping denji shuck the lounge wear down his shin and off his foot one at a time. leaving just the tight cling of his boxer briefs, which are summarily invaded as well. bakugou jolts, head dropping back on the bed and elbows sliding out to let denji collapse atop him as warm fingers wrap around his throbbing cock. fuck- denji's really grabbing his dick! it's not like in the showers, fast and scrambling, half-aware and hazy. it's deliberate. he rakes his hand through the other blonde's hair again as kisses race across his exposed throat, cussing into the air as he clenches his eyes shut. his shaft throbs in denji's hand, because of denji's hand, heart slamming in his chest while the half-devil feels him up. thick, soft skin, well-proportioned, thumb on the tip that's soft and spongy and now leaking with precum.
the first stroke has bakugou slinging a hand over denji's back and grabbing at his shoulder blade, other hand deliberately shoving down to angrily grapple for his new boyfriend's pants hem. why the hell should this guy have all the damn fun? if denji's gonna jerk him off, then bakugou deserves the same right! though his trawling hands aren't as stable as they could've been, staggering over denji's warm skin and caressing feels as sensations rush. his throat's gonna be fucking wrecked tomorrow... you ever wear a damn turtleneck in spring, asshole?!
finally denji breaks from mauling his throat like a beast and their foreheads bump together right as katsuki gets his hand on the hem of the other boy's boxers. he curls his fingers in the light material, as if debating on ripping them off. but that's a parting distraction when he opens his eyes, looking up at denji's golden gaze all heady with lust and attraction. fingers slide against his lips and he knows exactly what the half-devil is asking for. while it kind of is tempting to do it dry... he's not a fucking idiot. katsuki flick his tongue out, brushing at the tip of those two fingers. then grips them between his teeth.] It's fine...
[he'd rather it be just denji anyways. completely raw. with that, he leans forward and pulls the other boy's fingers into his mouth at the same time as he pushes his hand down, shoving denji's boxers halfway down his thighs in a stubborn demand to strip them off. had enough of their bothering interference. if he's getting naked, then denji's getting naked too.]
no subject
like a laser, his brain locks onto the eager way denji responds to the hand in his hair. voice thickening, hands clenching, body hardening. bakugou refuses to pull it (yet) but he does push his hand through denji's hair more deliberately, not having a path and simply running it from front to back, dragging to the side, caressing in a circular rush because he can't fucking think straight right now when denji making out with him like this. that damn, subtle laugh earns a soft grown from the young hero and he glares up at the half-devil when denji leans back to acknowledge that. he'd be tempted to kick him if the guy weren't so completely flushed red with arousal and pupil-blown with desire.]
Get back down here.
[the window's passed and he doesn't regret it. he'll bitch later, because he does, but letting denji take control is okay. they can wrestle about things later. maybe sooner than they think. fast or slow, so long as it's with denji, it'll be fine. bakugou's not made of glass, even if his nerves are shooting up from the reality of this situation. so he grapples for him, touching his skin and feeling up denji's body without shame or hesitation. a shudder ripples through and he chases it, running from the base of the other boy's spine up to the nape of his neck, from the top of his chest down to the v of his pelvis. desire... yeah. attraction... of course. it's even better when that damn shirt gets hauled overhead and out of the way. bakugou's eyes burn with interest, watching denji's arms flex as he sheds the material off his head and down his arms, muscles flexing in his shoulders and limbs, hair bouncing a bit when the collar scuffs off, leaving him shirtless and flushed, impressive lines visible as neither of them give a shit about where the shirt lands. bakugou spreads his fingers over denji's chest, palms settling on his pectorals as his thumbs brush along the inside of his sternum. why's he look even better this way? hair tousled, cheeks pink, lips a little wet from kissing...
his elbows hit the bed as denji swarms him again, but bakugou refuses to give up the manhandling of his boy's chest, forcing the half-devil to arch a bit to reach his mouth. he lifts his head from the pillow to assist at least, mouth making an eager mess of denji's. there's blood pretty soon, but the sting's on the other side, leaving bakugou to realize the other boy cut his tongue, or lip, or whatever, on his teeth. so damn eager. the coppery taste lingers in the mellow o denji's saliva as they swap it between their mouths, tongue pressing inside and curving along his palate before dragging over rows of teeth. tch- there's a nick. he's not surprised he's leaking a drop or three of his own blood into denji's mouth. guess there's always going to be some crimson when you're making out with denji. he opens his mouth as their jaws part, letting the half-devil lick his lip, panting softly between them.]
Haa... ngh... [he can't stop a little sound of annoyance as those sharp teeth catch his earlobe, sending shivers rippling across his skin and making his shoulder hike up on instinct. that's fucking sensitive, dammit! it makes the shell flush red almost immediately. bakugou tightens his hand on denji's bare shoulder when his friend shoves his hand down his pants. shit-! he's really-! the hem scrapes down his thighs and he snarls in a heavy voice as he tugs one knee up, helping denji shuck the lounge wear down his shin and off his foot one at a time. leaving just the tight cling of his boxer briefs, which are summarily invaded as well. bakugou jolts, head dropping back on the bed and elbows sliding out to let denji collapse atop him as warm fingers wrap around his throbbing cock. fuck- denji's really grabbing his dick! it's not like in the showers, fast and scrambling, half-aware and hazy. it's deliberate. he rakes his hand through the other blonde's hair again as kisses race across his exposed throat, cussing into the air as he clenches his eyes shut. his shaft throbs in denji's hand, because of denji's hand, heart slamming in his chest while the half-devil feels him up. thick, soft skin, well-proportioned, thumb on the tip that's soft and spongy and now leaking with precum.
the first stroke has bakugou slinging a hand over denji's back and grabbing at his shoulder blade, other hand deliberately shoving down to angrily grapple for his new boyfriend's pants hem. why the hell should this guy have all the damn fun? if denji's gonna jerk him off, then bakugou deserves the same right! though his trawling hands aren't as stable as they could've been, staggering over denji's warm skin and caressing feels as sensations rush. his throat's gonna be fucking wrecked tomorrow... you ever wear a damn turtleneck in spring, asshole?!
finally denji breaks from mauling his throat like a beast and their foreheads bump together right as katsuki gets his hand on the hem of the other boy's boxers. he curls his fingers in the light material, as if debating on ripping them off. but that's a parting distraction when he opens his eyes, looking up at denji's golden gaze all heady with lust and attraction. fingers slide against his lips and he knows exactly what the half-devil is asking for. while it kind of is tempting to do it dry... he's not a fucking idiot. katsuki flick his tongue out, brushing at the tip of those two fingers. then grips them between his teeth.] It's fine...
[he'd rather it be just denji anyways. completely raw. with that, he leans forward and pulls the other boy's fingers into his mouth at the same time as he pushes his hand down, shoving denji's boxers halfway down his thighs in a stubborn demand to strip them off. had enough of their bothering interference. if he's getting naked, then denji's getting naked too.]