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Buckle Up

Summary:

Bakugou looks truly unreal like this.

No matter how many times they've ended up here and will in the future, rolling around in sheets freshly washed with the special detergent that targets Bakugou's explosive sweat, it never gets old. Every time is somehow infinitely better than the last, almost overwhelmingly so. Some days are particularly heavy, their intimacy fuelled by more than just the want to feel each other, but with a primal desire for release that simultaneously feels so phenomenally good yet hurts like hell.

Notes:

Horikoshi continues to give us content that can very easily imply that Bakugou rides Kirishima in multiple contexts. So. What are we supposed to think?

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Bakugou looks truly unreal like this.

No matter how many times they've ended up here and will in the future, rolling around in sheets freshly washed with the special detergent that targets Bakugou's explosive sweat, it never gets old. Every time is somehow infinitely better than the last, almost overwhelmingly so. Some days are particularly heavy, their intimacy fuelled by more than just the want to feel each other, but with a primal desire for release that simultaneously feels so phenomenally good yet hurts like hell.  

What Bakugou needed was clear the second he stormed through the door far past his usual bedtime and ripped the covers off his boyfriend, demanding he take his pants off while minutely shaking with crimson cheeks. Kirishima couldn't say he wasn't expecting it, Bakugou had seemed pretty worked up the whole day, but he likes to initiate himself in these instances because that way he can pretend he wasn't being obvious about it. 

He was already prepped and ready to go, preferring to do it before coming over so he wasn't nagged about not being thorough enough. Both pairs of pants were thrown across the room in seconds, the wind knocked from Kirishima's chest as he was straddled and his cock stroked with a lube covered hand, quickly working him up to full hardness. It would be so embarrassing just how quickly Bakugou can get him going if he had an ounce of shame.

Bakugou kneeled up and carefully guided Kirishima's cock head to his entrance, moaning a pained and pleasured finally when it popped just slightly inside, even though they'd only been at it for a couple minutes at the very most. It took time for him to work his way down, moving his hips in small circles with his head thrown back and his bottom lip held tight between his teeth. Kirishima gritted his teeth, using all of his willpower to keep his hips still and not thrust into the familiar warm, tight and wet heat.

That's how they got to now, Bakugou finally sat fully on his boyfriend's cock after far too long easing his way onto it, just enough for a good burn but not enough to take from the pleasure of being split open in the most satisfying way. He looks to Kirishima, the cockiest shit eating grin on his face as he can't help but laugh.

"Don't move a damn muscle," he says, not even letting him reply before rolling his hips and biting his lip even harder.

Kirishima's breath is heavy as he's used like a dildo, teased by the slow rocking and rhythmic clenching that he knows his boyfriend isn't even thinking about. He's just trying to feel good, get off, and work out all of the pent up frustration and energy that was preventing him from sleeping soundly, hardly aware that he's taking him on the ride of his life. Until the next time, at least. Kirishima grips the sheets, trying his damn best to do as he's told and not assist as Bakugou begins properly bouncing, his leaking cock slapping on Kirishima's chiselled abdomen at every descent.

The more tired he gets the more he moans, sweat dripping from his forehead and even his thighs, which shake with overexertion. What Kirishima wouldn't give to have his mouth on those beautiful toned muscles, he doesn't know. 

It's only when Bakugou can no longer pick himself up, after a dozen or so minutes of constant supporting himself, his own drenched hands pulling on his scalp to keep going as long as he can, that he gives Kirishima the look. The look saying 'I'm satisfied, I don't want to do this alone anymore'. Permission to finally help. And Kirishima knows exactly what he needs. He flips their positions without pulling out and swiftly places the other's legs over his shoulders. He knows just how to massage Bakugou's prostate like this, only making tiny thrusts to prod into it softly over and over again.

It's easy to tell when Bakugou is about to cum, his eyes look so desperate and pleading even if he's the one in control and it drives Kirishima up the wall. He hopes that one day maybe he'll be allowed to take a picture of that expression, be able to feast his eyes on it whenever he wants. He suddenly pulls out and slaps his cock on top of Bakugou's before stroking them quickly together and leaning down to suck that plump and bitten bottom lip into his own mouth. 

Kirishima swallows the broken moan of Bakugou's release. He swears he can taste it on his tongue, and finishes onto the other's stomach a few strokes later.

What's about to happen now is clockwork. Bakugou will pass out on the spot and Kirishima will clean up and gently slip some sleep pants on him before crawling into bed himself and quickly losing consciousness.

Then the next day, Bakugou will be visibly less strung up, less reactive, less rude, and no one will dare to comment on it. The one time someone did gave Kaminari an unwanted singed undercut.

Notes:

It's short but my new year's resolution is to focus on just writing how I like and not feel the need to inflate stuff like an essay lol. If you like you can follow me on Twitter and leave kudos/comments.