Work Text:
“Kirishima! Open the FUCKING DOOR!”
Kirishima jumps as another heavy blow lands on the door. Out in the hall, Bakugou curses, a rapid-fire streak of profanity all smashed together, goddamn motherfucking idiot son of a BITCH! Kirishima blinks as another wave of sensation rolls over him—for a moment he can feel Bakugou’s voice sear his skin, hot as lava. More heat follows in its wake, and he shuts his eyes, helpless against the sensation burning through him, scalding his skin, cramping his stomach, stealing his breath.
Another voice speaks, jolting Kirishima out of his delirium. “Please let us in!” calls Midoriya, sounding as anxious as Bakugou does pissed off.
“Go away!” Kirishima yells. “I’m fine!”
“You’re not fucking fine, you asshole, we saw you coming upstairs, now let us IN!”
Fuck. Of course the two of them would be hanging out in the foyer of the apartment building, instead of upstairs in their shared apartment. Now here they are, pounding down his door at the worst possible time. His own stupid fucking fault.
“Kirishima, just tell us what happened!” Midoriya again.
“It’s nothing,” Kirishima says, shakily. “I just—I need to be alone, okay?”
“It’s only us, you don’t have to be afraid!” Midoriya being his usual stubborn self, god damn him. “Just let us in, okay? Let us make sure you’re alright!”
His voice, even through the door, makes Kirishima’s dick throb. Kirishima chokes on another groan, rubbing the palm of one hand against his hard-on. He’s always been good at controlling himself, at respecting personal boundaries; the last thing he wants is to drive away the two most important people in the world to him with his unwanted feelings for them. No one was happier for the two of them to get together than him.
But if they come in, they’ll find out the truth. They’ll see what he’s really like, see how pathetic he truly is, and they’ll be so disgusted that they’ll never talk to him again. “No,” he whimpers. “No, please, I’m not—I didn’t mean to—” Fuck, now he can see their faces: Bakugou sneering in contempt at his grossness, while Midoriya tries his best to hide his revulsion in compassion. Kirishima lets out a sob, putting his face in his hands in misery, and all the while his traitorous cock is begging to be touched.
He hears voices from out in the hall, words he can barely make out through the avalanche of panic swamping his senses. He catches “Fuck this, I’m going in there,” and it’s all the warning he gets before a loud explosion goes off.
Kirishima shrieks, diving away from the noise. What’s left of the door swings open and Bakugou and Midoriya push inside, one of them shutting the door behind them. Kirishima covers his face with his hands, hunching over in terror as they approach him.
“Kirishima,” breathes Midoriya. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“Someone hit him with some fucked-up psych Quirk, I just know it,” says Bakugou. “Shitty Hair, would you look at me already?”
“No, nooo, nonononooooooo—” Kirishima babbles. Someone touches his shoulders, and he shrieks, jerking back. “No, you can’t be here! You can’t!”
“Holy fuck,” says Bakugou under his breath. “Dude, it’s just us, calm down.”
“We’re here for you,” Midoriya adds. He sounds worried. They both do.
Tears spring to Kirishima’s eyes, spurred by a heavy mixture of love and fear. “Nooooo,” he moans, and sags against the wall, starting to weep into his hands.
“Jesus Christ,” says Bakugou, and then Kirishima feels their hands on his arms, on his shoulders. One of them is trying to pry his hands away from his face. Kirishima lets them, but his eyes stay tightly shut, tears dripping helplessly down his cheeks. “Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, it’s just us, you don’t gotta freak out—”
“But you’re going to hate me,” Kirishima says wetly. His shoulders are still hunched, head bowed, unable to look at either of them. “I d-don’t want you to hate me!”
“What,” begins Midoriya. “What are you—why on Earth would we hate you? That’s ridiculous.”
“That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard, and I’m dating Deku,” says Bakugou.
Kirishima just shakes his head, eyes still tightly shut. He tries to curl up against the wall, put some distance between them. Now that they’re this close, he can smell them both—Midoriya’s minty shampoo, Bakugou’s sweat. They’re so warm, so near. Kirishima moans, and a wave of lust goes through him, his neglected cock aching.
“He’s drenched in sweat,” murmurs Midoriya. A hand presses to Kirishima’s temple. “He’s burning up. Kirishima, look at me, please!”
“Open your eyes,” Bakugou says. “C’mon, dude.” Kirishima does, finally—and finds himself staring into the anxious faces of the two people he loves most.
Midoriya squints at him. “His pupils are dilated. We should get him to the hospital—”
“NO,” Kirishima shouts. “Nononono. Just—go. You have to go.” He tries to stand up, but succeeds only in sliding over onto his side so that he’s laying on the floor. Bakugou reaches out and hauls him upright again, both hands firm on his shoulders. “You have to go,” Kirishima repeats, but he’s caught staring at Bakugou’s face now, mesmerized by his red eyes.
“Let’s get him somewhere more comfortable,” says Midoriya.
Bakugou nods without looking away from Kirishima. “Block the door, I’ll get him to the bedroom,” he says, leaning in. Before Kirishima knows what’s happening, Bakugou has slung him over his shoulders. He stands without any apparent effort, then turns and walks down the hallway, putting Kirishima in the perfect position to see Midoriya grabbing a chair and wedging it under the mangled doorknob.
Midoriya’s wearing a tank-top, one of Bakugou’s cutoff tops, looks like—Kirishima recognizes the stupid logo on the back. It also perfectly shows off his deltoids and biceps. Unfair. Why is he so hot? Especially with that undercut.
Shit, speaking of hot, Bakugou is carrying him like he weighs nothing. Kirishima moans out loud as he thinks about it, too late for him to stop himself. Kirishima claps his hands to his mouth at the exact moment as he looks up and meets Midoriya’s gaze. Midoriya’s eyes go wide, an interest there Kirishima is too altered to parse. “What do you need, Kirishima?” Midoriya asks, but Kirishima can’t answer..
Bakugou puts him down—on the bed, Kirishima thinks. Weight sinks down on either side of him. Kirishima can feel his friends’ warmth, their comforting presences surrounding him. He sniffles, almost ready to say something—then another wave of longing and heat rolls over him, and all he can do is gasp and crumple like tinfoil.
“Hey, hey,” says Midoriya. His voice is so gentle. A light hand runs down Kirishima’s shoulder, and Kirishima can’t help but lean into it, shuddering as Midoriya tugs him in against his chest.
Here it is. He’s not going to be able to avoid it, now. His dick is hard as iron, lust burning at a fever-pitch now. They’re so kind to him, and he doesn’t deserve it, and he just can’t stop wanting what he can’t have.
“I’m sorry,” Kirishima whispers, wretched. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Bakugou says. He, too, sounds gentle, concerned. “You haven’t done anything wrong. Just tell us what you need, okay?”
“But it’s wrong,” Kirishima says. “It’s bad. I’m bad.” Tears prick at his eyes again.
“You’re not bad,” says Midoriya. “You’re the best. Eijirou, please. Tell us what’s wrong. Let us take care of you.”
Hearing his given name on Midoriya’s lips is what breaks him. Kirishima shudders and looks up at Midoriya, then over at Bakugou, unable to resist their nearness, their sweetness, their warmth. “He hit me with… with his Quirk an’ now I can—can’t—” Fuck, he can hardly even get words out now, he’s so messed up.
“I knew it,” mutters Bakugou. He crawls closer, rubbing Kirishima’s side.
Kirishima is panting now, the ache in his body worsening the longer he’s this close to the men he craves like air. Distantly, he’s aware that he’s dripping sweat now—he can even smell his own stink—but he doesn’t know how to make it stop. He tries again. “I need, I gotta, want both of you so bad—I like you so much, I’m—uhhh…”
Beside him, Midoriya stiffens. “Eijirou,” he whispers. “Kacchan, we can’t—he’s too out of it, it wouldn’t be right, we’d be taking advantage—”
He knew it. He knew they wouldn’t want him. Kirishima’s eyes fill with fresh tears, and he wails, putting his face in his hands, unable to look either of them in the eyes and see the revulsion there. “I’m s-sorry, I know you don’t feel that way, I’m sorry—”
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” says Bakugou. He grabs Kirishima’s wrists, yanking his hands away from his face. “Eijirou, you are so fuckin’ stupid sometimes. We have both been trying to get in your pants for months, but you don’t know how to catch a clue—”
“Kacchan!” Midoriya hisses. He sounds aghast. But Kirishima’s riveted. He stares at Bakugou, eyes wide as his Quirk-addled brain tries to make sense of this. He has so many questions, but only a few seem relevant right now.
“Can I kiss you?” he manages, finally. He can hear the desperation in his own voice, like it belongs to someone else. “Please?” Instead of answering, Bakugou leans in, catching Kirishima’s face in one hand, and then he seals his mouth over Kirishima’s.
It’s like someone just threw a match into a pool of gasoline: his whole body goes up in flames. Kirishima moans, loud and ragged, and then he’s kissing Bakugou back, all thoughts obliterated except the pure want stampeding through him. He surges into Bakugou’s lap, grabbing his face and kissing him hard; Bakugou’s other hand goes to Kirishima’s waist, kissing back just as enthusiastically.
Bakugou has stubble along his jaw that scrapes at Kirishima’s lips. His mouth tastes like Coke, like everything Kirishima has wanted for four years. He hears Midoriya gasp, and then there are hands on his shoulders and a hot mouth pressing against the base of his neck. Kirishima groans into Bakugou’s mouth, breaking away to pant noisily.
“That’s it,” Bakugou says hoarsely. “Fuck, that’s hot. Come here and kiss him, Deku.”
Midoriya tsks from behind Kirishima. Kirishima feels a hand turning his face until he’s looking over his shoulder, and then Midoriya is kissing him too, his mouth wet and warm as Bakugou’s, if a little softer.
“Uh huh,” says Bakugou smugly. Kirishima breaks away, looking over at Bakugou again to see him palming himself through his pants, eyes glued to the two of them.
Kirishima has one last moment of lucidity then, doubt piercing the haze he’s in to make him question if this is really okay, or just his friends humoring him. Then fever swamps him again, and he groans. “Please stay,” he say. “Midoriya, Bakugou, I need—”
“We’re gonna stay,” Bakugou says, no hesitation in his voice.
“We’ll stay,” Midoriya says too. He kisses the side of Kirishima’s face, and the knot in Kirishima’s heart unclenches a little. “But Eijirou, you can call us by our names, okay?”
Kirishima feels a rush of elation at that. “Okay,” he says. “Okay.” Bakugou leans forward, tugging them both into his arms. Kirishima can’t stop kissing their mouths, whining and grabbing for Bakugou’s face when the other man tries to pull away.
“Whoa!” Bakugou laughs, catching Kirishima’s hands. “It’s okay, dude. I’m just gonna help you get naked.”
“Oh,” says Kirishima, and both other men laugh.
From there, things get kind of blurry. One second he’s squirming in their arms, and the next thing after that is he’s buck naked, his back against Midoriya’s chest with Bakugou sinking down onto his knees next to the bed. He reaches for Kirishima’s reddened, dripping cock, stroking it once as he licks a teasing stripe up the bottom side.
It’s the hottest thing Kirishima’s ever seen. Kirishima’s hips jerk, and without any warning at all he comes, painting Bakugou’s face with stripes of sticky white come. Midoriya gasps in his ear, but all Kirishima can do is stare in shock and arousal—both at the mess he just made of Bakugou, and at the fact his dick is still hard as a rock.
Bakugou laughs, breaking the shocked silence. “I always knew you were dirty, Eijirou,” he purrs. He rubs his messy face against Kirishima’s still-hard cock, smearing the come against his lips, his cheeks; Midoriya makes a noise like a dying man.
“Please,” Kirishima says shakily. “Katsuki, I need more.”
Bakugou obliges him by opening his mouth and swallowing half of Kirishima’s cock in one go, hollowing his cheeks as he suckles around the length. He doesn’t waste any time, one hand wrapped around the base of Kirishima’s cock as he keeps going down. Bakugou’s mouth is hot, wet, smooth as silk—it feels like heaven, filthier and better than any of Kirishima’s many many dreams about it.
Midoriya bites at Kirishima’s throat, just beneath his jaw, and Kirishima groans. He can feel Midoriya’s erection against his lower back, Midoriya’s firm chest against his spine. Bakugou starts to bob his head, doing something wicked with his tongue, and that’s all it takes for Kirishima to come again, groaning as his hips jerk and he empties down Bakugou’s throat.
“Fuck, Eijirou…” Midoriya’s voice is barely a murmur against Kirishima’s skin. “You’re so hot. Look what a mess you made of Kacchan. He loves it.” And with a throb of lust, Kirishima sees that Midoriya’s right—Bakugou has pulled off and is licking himself clean, wiping come from his face and licking it off his open palm. He grins widely at Kirishima, somehow filthier than when he had a cock in his mouth.
But Kirishima is still hard. He whines, desperate again, shuddering as another feverish wave of need rolls through him. “Please,” he moans. “I—I need, I’m sorry—”
“Shhh, baby, it’s okay,” Midoriya says, kissing his mouth. “We’re gonna take care of you, alright?”
Bakugou doesn’t speak, but he drops to his knees again, going right back to sucking Kirishima’s cock while Midoriya kisses him and teases his nipples. Kirishima comes twice more like that, the second time grabbing Bakugou’s head and thrusting in all the way as he empties with a groan. Bakugou pulls off, coughing; before Kirishima has time to be anxious, he leans up and steals a surprisingly sweet kiss.
“I think you need a little more,” Bakugou says softly. “Deku, you want a turn?”
“Please,” says Midoriya—breathless, like he’s just been offered the most exciting thing in the world. Kirishima’s heart flutters. They switch positions, Bakugou crawling onto the bed to make out with Kirishima and jerk him off lazily while Midoriya raids their pants pockets and the nightstand.
“Uh, I don’t really see any condoms in here…” Midoriya looks up from the drawer.
“You’re not gonna run to the store with your dick hanging out,” Bakugou says. “Bareback it is.”
The conversation, short as it is, goes over Kirishima’s head. The only thing he catches is the reluctance in his lovers’ voices, and it makes his anxiety ratchet up again. “Izukuuuu,” he whines, hiding his face in Bakugou’s throat.
“Get up here, Deku,” hisses Bakugou. “You’re freaking him out.”
Midoriya clambers back onto the bed, on the other side of Kirishima, and then Kirishima is besieged by their mouths, their hands, their kisses and warm touches. He settles easily, arching against them again as they chase away his fear. “M’sorry,” he mumbles, not entirely sure what he’s apologizing for. “I’m still, I can’t…”
“It’s fine, Eijirou,” Midoriya says reassuringly, his face flushed. Kirishima can feel Midoriya’s dick poking him in the hip. He likes that. “Now. Do you want to fuck me?”
Kirishima’s heart leaps. “Please!” He leans up, biting eagerly at Midoriya’s mouth, an act which is rewarded with a groan. Kirishima tastes copper, and he reacts without thinking, licking into Midoriya’s mouth to chase that taste. It’s only when he pulls back and sees the smear of red on Midoriya’s lips that he realizes how hard he bit. “Uh—”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” Midoriya says. His eyes are dilated, glassy, his breathing rough. “I want you to fuck me. Please, Eijirou.”
“There’s my little slut,” Bakugou murmurs, kissing the back of Kirishima’s neck. Kirishima isn’t sure who that comment was about, honestly, but he’s happy all the same. Soon Midoriya is on his hands and knees, ass in the air. Midoriya and Bakugou have a brief, intense argument about preparation, one which Midoriya seems to win. It ends with Bakugou kneeling behind Kirishima as Kirishima slicks his still-aching cock with lube from the nightstand and starts to press his dick into Midoriya’s ass.
There’s a chorus of groans—from Midoriya as Kirishima sinks into him, from Kirishima as he feels Midoriya’s ass opening up around his cock, even from Bakugou, chin hooked over Kirishima’s shoulder and arms around his waist. Kirishima has to shut his eyes at how good it feels. Midoriya’s ass is so hot and tight, and every inch he sinks in further he can feel Midoriya’s thighs trembling against the front of his legs.
“That’s it,” Bakugou whispers in Kirishima’s ear. “Deku, you slut, how’s it feel to just let Eijirou fuck your ass raw? Just like you’ve been wanting. His ass is so nice and tight, isn’t it? He wants you to fill him up with come, Eijirou.”
Kirishima gasps at that, and he thrusts forward instinctively, burying his cock to the hilt in Midoriya’s plush ass. Midoriya wails, and he drops his face to the bed, pushing his ass back against Kirishima’s dick. All Kirishima can do for a few seconds is grind mindlessly against Midoriya’s ass, both of them groaning at the press and drag it creates. Then Kirishima pulls out halfway and thrusts in again, hard, setting up an eager, demanding rhythm as he fucks Midoriya for all he’s worth.
Kirishima lasts slightly longer this time—a few minutes instead of mere seconds. Midoriya gasps as Kirishima’s hips stutter; he thrusts in to the hilt and empties into Midoriya’s ass, groaning loudly. Kirishima’s head falls back, resting on Bakugou’s shoulder as his muscles tense. His hard-on doesn’t slacken, but his brain fog clears a tiny bit. “I’m still hard,” he says, shaky. “Izuku, can I…”
“Don’t stop,” Midoriya says instantly. “Fuck me as hard as you want.”
Bakugou laughs in Kirishima’s ear. “He’s got a lot of stamina,” he says. “I told you, Eijirou, we got you. Just use us as much as you need to. We’ll enjoy it, I promise.” He punctuates this statement with a hot kiss to the corner of Kirishima’s mouth. He rocks his hips a couple times, rubbing his hard dick against the crack of Kirishima’s ass. Kirishima shivers, leaning into the touches, and then he just goes right back to thrusting.
It’s a good thing his lovers are sturdy, because in his current state Kirishima can no more hold back than he could swim up a waterfall. Kirishima pounds into Midoriya hard enough to have him gasping and clawing at the bed; he collapses face-down to the pillow as Kirishima slams home and comes a second time. By the third time Kirishima empties into him, come is leaking out of his reddened hole around Kirishima’s dick, dripping down Midoriya’s thighs. Kirishima can’t help but revel in the slick heat, in the increasingly wet filthy noises his cock makes as he fucks into Midoriya’s ass.
He comes a fourth time before he finally softens a little, his whole body aching. Kirishima slows, then stops, hands on Midoriya’s hips. Fatigue makes his vision swim. “You okay?” Bakugou’s hand on his cheek snaps him out of it..
Kirishima nods. “Uh, I think so… Think I need a breather.” Abruptly he realizes that Midoriya is trembling beneath him, and his anxiety flares. “Izuku, I—are you okay—”
“M’fine, s’okay,” pants Midoriya. He lifts his head enough to peer over his shoulder at Kirishima, flashing a shaky smile. “You’re amazing.”
“Take a breather, Deku,” Bakugou says. Midoriya flops forward onto his side, still panting. There’s come smeared across his belly—he must have come while Kirishima was fucking him. Midoriya stretches, and that’s when Kirishima and Bakugou are treated to the sight of an astonishing amount of come leaking out of his abused hole.
“Oh my god,” Kirishima says, dazed. Did I do that?
“You rest,” says Bakugou. “I’ll tag in.” He steals a quick kiss from Kirishima, who flops onto his side, unable to rip his eyes away from his new lovers. Bakugou rolls an unresisting Midoriya onto his back, Midoriya throwing an arm over his face even as he lets Bakugou spread his thighs apart. “Gonna show you how to make Deku scream,” Bakugou says casually, and then drops to his chest between Midoriya’s open thighs. Kirishima’s eyes go wide as Bakugou puts his mouth to the cream pie leaking from Midoriya’s ass and starts eating him out.
The effect is immediate: Midoriya does scream, hips jerking against Bakugou’s hands holding his thighs open. Kirishima’s half-hard cock starts to fill again at the obscene sounds Bakugou is making as he licks multiple loads of come out of Midoriya’s ass. Soon Kirishima is crawling forward, rest forgotten as renewed lust burns through him.
Bakugou looks up at him and wipes his mouth as Kirishima draws close, a devilish smile on his face. “Ready?” he asks. “Good. My turn.” He sits up, shoving Kirishima onto his back and crawling forward to straddle Kirishima’s hips.
“I’ll help you do the work this time,” Bakugou says, grinning wickedly. Kirishima is too addled to know what he means until he kneels up, slicks Kirishima’s cock with one hand, and he guides himself down onto it. Kirishima almost blows his load again immediately at the sight of Bakugou sinking down onto his dick; the view is almost as good as the feel of it, the tight press of Bakugou’s ass around him.
“And Kacchan calls me a slut,” Midoriya mumbles fondly from his spot on the bed.
“Shut up, Deku,” Bakugou says. “Fuck, Eijirou, your dick feels amazing. Come on, let’s fuck that Quirk right out of you.” He lifts his hips before dropping back down onto Kirishima’s dick with a loud groan. Kirishima’s hands fly out, grabbing Bakugou’s hips as Bakugou starts riding him in earnest, bouncing on Kirishima’s cock and grinding down against him with every drop, his own dick bobbing lewdly between his thighs.
Bakugou’s head falls back, mouth open and eyes shut, his face a transport of ecstasy as he takes Kirishima’s cock. Midoriya scoots in close and says something in his ear, but Kirishima’s too distracted by Bakugou—and when he comes again a few moments later, Bakugou just rides him through it, not even slowing down. “Fuuuuck,” Kirishima moans. Bakugou cracks one eye at him, grinning fiercely, and keeps going. Another wave of heat and lust rolls over Kirishima, thick like honey.
After that, Kirishima goes in and out of total awareness. Bakugou rides him for a while, but Kirishima has no idea for how long, or how many times he comes, until finally they have to pause.
He remembers being on his back with Bakugou on top of him, kissing him and touching him while Midoriya fucks his ass. He remembers greedily sucking Bakugou’s cock, remembers the thrill of satisfaction when he reduces Bakugou to a stupid babble. He remembers going crazy for them, unable to stop touching or kissing or biting them, remembers sharp nails in his back, remembers being so tired that all he wants to do is lay down in the bed and pass out but being still unable to stop.
But most of all, he remembers that through it all, his lovers never abandon him—there’s always at least one of them in bed with him, guiding him through his haze, giving his Quirk-addled body the pleasure it craves. They stay with him, and hold him, and give him what he needs, until finally the fever ends and he simply passes out.
Kirishima wakes up some unknown amount of time later. It’s pitch dark, he’s in his own bed, and two warm bodies are pressed up against him—Midoriya and Bakugou, he realizes. Hard on the heels of that realization comes a hundred aches and pains. His entire body feels like one big bruise, plus a half-dozen scratches and bite marks.
He’s trying not to move around, but he must anyway, because the man against his back stirs. “Are you awake now?” Midoriya asks sleepily. “Do you need to go again?”
“Uh… I don’t think so,” says Kirishima. He suffers a wave of horror as vague memories of the past… however many hours come floating back to him. “S-Sorry, I’m—”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, it is like three in the fucking morning,” comes Bakugou’s raspy voice. “I fuckin’ told you, we’ve been wanting to get in your pants for months.”
Kirishima shuts his mouth. He vaguely remembers Bakugou saying that before. “Oh,” he says. He feels Midoriya’s soft lips on the back of his neck.
“Are you okay?” Midoriya asks. A warm arm slides around his stomach as Midoriya hugs him from behind, and then Bakugou is moving in too, kissing Kirishima’s forehead in direct contradiction to how cranky he just sounded.
Kirishima takes stock for a moment. His brain is still addled from the marathon sex binge, despite the sleep, but… but Midoriya and Bakugou are both still here. They wanted him, too, he realizes. His heart lifts at the implications of what’s happened, of what it might mean. “I think so,” he says, and then he hesitates. “I…”
“Go on, ask, or you’re gonna keep me up all night freakin’ out about it,” Bakugou says.
Kirishima grins. “I—I just want you both to know that even though I got hit with a Quirk, I…” He takes a deep breath. “I really wanted this before that. With both of you.”
He hears a soft exhale—Bakugou. There’s a rustling sound as both of his partners sit up in bed. “We wanted it, too,” says Midoriya.
“We both wanted you,” Bakugou adds. Kirishima thinks he’s never heard Bakugou sound so soft or private as he does right now. It’s incredible. A lump forms in the back of his throat, and he breaks into a stupid smile.
He kisses them each in turn: Midoriya first, then Bakugou, sweet lingering kisses that say everything he’s too blasted to find words for right now. Kirishima finally pulls back from Bakugou’s mouth and says, “I thought your mouth would taste more like come.”
“I brushed my fucking teeth, you freak,” Bakugou says. It’s so grumpy and normal that Kirishima has to laugh. But he doesn’t miss Midoriya’s warm hand squeezing his hip, or the gentle touch of Bakugou’s hand on his cheek.
There’s more to be said, but for now, this is enough.