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Tender Violence

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“Hello, Kacchan.”

“The fuck did you ca—” Bakugo’s voice cuts out halfway through the sentence, his eyes becoming glazed as he pauses mid-turn. Shinso smirks as he walks into the other third-years line of sight.

“I thought that would work.” He watches the muscles in Bakugo’s neck twitch, how his fingers jerk to the side. “Fighting it, are you?” he teases. He can feel Bakugo tugging at his control, snarling at it and biting, but never able to actually catch it. Shinso walks a lazy circle around him; there’s no rush to end this. No one else is out this late, not usually, but Bakugo doesn’t seem to stop training, and Shinso is happy to use that to his advantage.

“You realize that your explosions can be heard all the way to the 3-B dorms, right?”


“Answer me.”


Shinso steps right up to him, staring down. He doubts Bakugo likes that much, being shorter than him —or anyone really— but it makes Shinso smirk.

“You’re keeping me awake.”

No response, just glassy eyes.

“It’s really annoying, ya know? I hear enough of your spouting off during training.” He looks around the grounds, the ones Cementos has to fix almost daily now that they have free reign in the evenings. Most students don’t absolutely demolish entire sections, but Bakugo seems to have a damn talent for it.

“Answer this. Why do you train so late?”

“Horny.” The single word comes out kind of choked as if Bakugo’s doing his best to keep the word in his mouth. Well, that wasn’t exactly what he was expecting.

“Seriously?” Shinso cards his fingers through his hair and shakes his head. “Why don’t you just jerk off like a normal guy?” There is a pause of silence and Shinso sighs. “Answer all questions asked of you, Bakugo.”

“My quirk,” follows the command.

Huh, well, that kind of makes sense.

“So you train instead of beating off? Huh. How does that help?” He’s genuinely curious now.

“Cum faster after a workout,” Bakugo replies in a tense, yet monotonous voice. Shinso can feel him still fighting against him; Bakugo's psyche is trying to tear into his. It’s like if a chihuahua were trying to attack a basilisk. Hitoshi barely pays it any mind.

“So you do get yourself off?”



“With my hand, in the bath,” he replies.

“Why the bath?”

“Bathwater dampens my quirk.”

Alright, well that makes sense. Can’t sweat when dripping wet; at least not as much.

“And you do this,” Shinso motions to the training area, “to, what, get worked up?”


Shinso smirks, “So you’re saying you get off on violence?” He drifts his hand over the top of Bakugo’s hair, just enough to feel the slightly scratchy strands. He can see that the tips are singed in a few places. When’s the last time the guy got a haircut? Or does he just constantly burn off anything too long?

“Yes,” Bakugo replies.

Shinso keeps running his hand gently over the tips of Bakugo’s hair. If he buries his fingers in a little deeper, the strands feel minutely softer, though they are damp with sweat. He wonders how they would feel fresh and clean.

“Do you want to get violent with me?” The question slips from him as he massages his fingers down into Bakugo’s scalp. It’s kind of disgusting, to be honest, but he can feel the fight against his quirk stutter as he moves the pads of his fingers.

“Yes.” The word is slightly halting as if Bakugo’s brain is actually debating. But that’s the beauty of Shinso’s quirk; nothing can hide from it.

Shinso’s belly does a lazy turn. Alright, so the bombastic bastard wants to get violent with him, pretty understandable after trapping him like this, though there’s something about the way he’s stopped fighting his quirk that makes Shinso wonder; what kind of violence?

Might as well find out; he barely sleeps anyway.

“Finish your usual training regimen.” He pulls his hand away and rubs the dampness off his fingers onto Bakugo’s costume. “After, f you’re still feeling violent, meet me in the showers. If not, slap yourself to free yourself from my control and go to your dorm.”

He is met with the same glassy stare of someone under his quirk.


“Yes.” Even though he’s under Shinso’s control, the way Bakugo doesn’t keep fighting tells Shinso that he won’t be slapping himself out of anything soon.

“Have a good workout, Bakugo.” Shinso steps past him, careful not to bump him, not that it’s that easy to get released from his quirk anymore. Even Bakugo slapping himself wouldn’t be enough to break it; it’s just the catalyst for the command.

Behind him, a blast goes off. The shockwaves follow Shinso to the nearby showers, curls into his belly, and make him tremble with a sudden need for violence.

Instead, he systematically removes his clothes, sets them into his locker, and heads for the shower room. He walks past the multiple heads and listens to the explosions outside. They are far louder than usual; probably due to them being the only thing Bakugo can fully control right now. Well, he technically has full control; Bakugo just can’t stop what he’s doing until he knows that he’s done. If his pattern has told Shinso anything, then he has another ten minutes or so.

Good, that’s plenty of time.

Shinso heads into the next part of the showers; the bath area. A series of square tubs, large enough for four to six people to stretch out in depending on their size and quirks. They are usually only used after particularly heavy sparring sessions. He turns on the tap to the one framed by the doorway, making sure to run it hot; hotter than he usually would. It seems appropriate though for who he’s about to possibly share it with.

The Epsom salts are easily found in one of the nearby cabinets, and he adds a generous scoop of them to the bath water. Steam starts to rise and spreads the relaxing scent into the air. Maybe not the most indicative thing for fighting, but Bakugo had told him that bathwater messes with his quirk, and he is going to use that to his advantage. He knows Bakugo can take him out easily with those explosions, but take those away, and he may have a chance in hand to hand. Aizawa has been training him over the last two and a half years, after all, even if he hasn't ever been his actual teacher. A pity really, but it had been the 1-B exchange student who hadn’t come back his first year, not a 1-A student, so that’s the class he had gone to. He had been in Bakugo’s class during their second year, though that had been of little consequence. A few estranged conversations, glares, things like that. He’d interacted more of him this year than when they were in class together, to be honest; the two third-year classes almost constantly in sparring sessions together to prepare them for their fastly approaching graduation. Those have become interesting seeing as everyone knows his quirk now, though his hand to hand tends to balance it out; he's surpassed even Aizawa in raw strength.

Still, it has been fun coming up with new ways of getting people to respond to him; especially now that he doesn't’ need a verbal response. Doing touch-based things tends to work best to get someone’s attention. He smacked Bakugo’s ass once to gain control during a fight; it had worked wonderfully.

Shinso flexes his fingers.

“Wonder if he enjoyed that,” he murmurs as he listens to the explosions outside amp up suddenly and smirks. “Almost done.”

The bath is almost scalding as he gets in, the salts tingling on his skin as he forces himself to settle into the water and waits.

The explosions stop.

Shinso turns off the tap and moves to face the showers.

The door to the locker room booms open, echoing back over the tile.

“Where the FUCK are you,” Bakugo calls, his rage palpable. Shinso debates on pulling on the thread of control he still has settled inside Bakugo, but refrains. He’s not sure Bakugo knows he even has that still; best to keep that trick in his arsenal. Besides, he’s kind of enjoying listening to the hot head stomp over the tiled floors, probably attempting to crack them.

“You purple haired piece of shit, come out!”

Bakugo turns into the shower room and pauses. Even from here, Shinso can see the cinders still smoldering in his hair and soot and dirt streaked on him. Shinso gives a little wave from the tub.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” The snarl echoes down to Shinso, preceding Bakugo as he stalks towards him. His hands are undoing the clasps on his costume, and Shinso didn’t even need to command it. “I thought we were going to get violent?”

“Punch yourself.”

Bakugo’s hand flies up into his own cheek, making him stumble. Shinso’s control stays true, though he can feel it twitch under the sudden strike of pain.

“That violent enough?”

“Not even close,” Bakugo snaps, turning towards him. His cheek is red and slightly purpling. He rips his shirt off, literally causing a tearing noise in places as he drops it to the side with his neck guard. “I am going to-”

“Finish stripping.”

Bakugo stops again, this time just outside the door. Shinso can feel him fighting.

“Only if you want,” he adds, though he doesn’t drop the control. “You want me to let go you tell me, but only if you really want me to. Understand?”

“Yes.” The response is immediate, and Bakugo’s face becomes a mask of rage. “You piece of shit, how—?”

“Never told you to stop answering me, did I?”

“No,” he responds as he jerkingly undoes the buckle on his pants and then kneels to undo his boots. “GOD DAMN IT!” The words ring harsh in Shinso’s ears, but Bakugo hasn’t told him to stop. It’s an explicit order, too. He won’t be able to hide it if he wants it to end; interesting.

“Are you going to keep hurling expletives or are you actually going to show me how you deal with your pent up aggression?”

“Oh, I’m going to fucking show you,” Bakugo snarls as he kicks off his boots. “I am going to pound you into god damn oblivion.”

“Who said you were going to do anything to me?” Shinso asks as Bakugo steps out of his pants.

“No one.” That makes Bakugo pause. “Wait, what?”

“I just asked if you wanted to get violent with me,” Shinso says as he lets his eyes rake over Bakugo’s now very nude form. Whatever isn’t covered in streaks of soot is shiny with sweat; making the multitude of scars that crisscross his body look pink and shiny in the air. Shinso finds himself wanting to taste a particularly nasty looking one on Bakugo’s right pec. His eyes sink down to Bakugo’s cock, and even from here he looks painfully hard; cock flush and heavy as he stands in the doorway. “Never said how.”

“I am not going to be some fucking bottom bitch to you,” he snarls.

“Didn’t say that either.” Shinso stands, and the way Bakugo’s eyes dart over him does not go unnoticed. “I’ll make you a deal,” he wades through the barely thigh high water, eyes locked on Bakugo’s face as he watches him study every inch of his skin. “We spar, here. Winner gets whatever position they want; if that’s what you want. Only condition is no quirks.”

“Then drop this shit.”

Shinso shakes his head. “I won’t use it to influence the fight, but I’m not about to give you an upper hand on me either. Bakugo, you are not to use your quirk for the remainder of our time in this room.”

Bakugo’s hands immediately curl, trying to bring some sort of explosion to the surface, but nothing appears but the barest curl of smoke.

“You don’t think I can control it myself?” he snarls.

“You’re the one who’s too worried to jerk off normally. This way neither of us has to worry about any accidents.” Shinso smirks. “As long as I have even the smallest thread of control on you, your quirk is mine until I say so.”

“Alright, and if I do take this stupid bet, which you are going to lose you mind-freak, then how do I know you won’t use it to fuck me over?”

“Easy.” He gives him a genuine smile. “Katsuki Bakugo, if you take this wager, you are to come at me with every shred of strength you have and only surrender should I successfully pin you, or you pin me.”

He watches Bakugo twitch, the command sinking into his subconscious.

“So what do you say?” Shinso asks as he reaches out. “Deal?”

Bakugo closes the distance between them with a few quick steps, his hand smacking into Shinso’s and curling around it. It’s warmer than even the bath water.

“Deal.” The second Bakugo utters it, the switch flips, and he tugs, hard, bringing up his knee. Mixed with his advantageous height, he tries to smash is into Shinso’s face.

Too slow,’ Shinso thinks as he tugs; taking the now off balance Bakugo back into the tub. Histoshi falls to his side, allowing him to slide easily into the water with only minor resistance, and pushes back up with his free arm. Bakugo, on the other hand, goes into a ball, landing hard in the shallow water before thrashing to come back up. His punch that follows is fast but blind as he blinks away the water in his eyes. Shinso catches it and turns, spinning Bakugo so that he is facing away from him, and pushes him toward to side.

Bakugo, in turn, grabs the wrist of the hand holding him and pulls, using the movement to stabilize himself, and kicks out hard.

It connects with Shinso’s sternum, knocking the wind out of him and forcing him to stumble back in the slick water. His feet skid over the textured surface of the bath’s floor, helping him not to slip, but still somewhat painful as he works to gain back his balance.

Bakugo lunges, fist up and ready to swing.

Shinso lets his legs give out and drops.

The momentum of Bakugo’s punch carries him forward with a roar, a good couple of feet over Shinso’s head. As soon as his hip hits Shinso’s shoulder, Shinso stands, his arms wrapped tight around Bakugo’s upper thighs, and turns so that he can swing Bakugo down hard into the center of the tub. He is careful and makes sure that Bakugo’s head is pointed toward a corner to keep from accidentally braining him.

A hard smack echoes through the room as Bakugo’s broad back lands horizontal with the water. Shinso hears the woosh of air leave Bakugo just before he goes under.

Shinso makes his move.

With Bakugo stunned and winded, Shinso uses precious seconds to grab Bakugo’s legs and spins him. Bakugo most likely scraps his shoulder on the bath’s floor in the process, but Shinso doubts a little scrape will hurt as bad as his pride is about to.

He pushes him down, his knees landing on the back of Bakugo’s calves, digging them into the floor while he grabs him by his left shoulder and right wrist. He pulls the slightly flailing body upwards, tugging the right hand tight behind Bakugo’s back while pulling him back upright at the same time.

Bakugo comes out of the bath with a gasp, gulping in air as he lets out a cry of fury. His free hand reaches up to try and grab at Shinso, only for Shinso to push him back down into the water. He flails, free arm trying to push himself up while Shinso tugs hard on his right arm, twisting it. Shinso counts to ten before pulling him back up and hears him gasp.

“Are you pinned?”

“Not yet, fuck you,” Bakugo snarls, trying to tear his arm away. Shinso shoves him back under the water without warning. More thrashing and Shinso feels him try and cough under the water. Quickly he jerks him back up. Bakugo hacks up water, chest heaving, and his twisted arm shaking.

“Are you pinned?” Shinso asks him again, the hand on his left shoulder holding him steady.

Bakugo tries to tug away again with a barely audible response.


“Yes,” it comes out rough between the coughs and the arm in Shinso’s grasp is immediately released. He hauls Bakugo up and sets him against the side of the tub, on the low bench that runs its length. Bakugo slumps against the tile, pulling in deep breaths of air as he coughs and hacks up the remaining water in his lungs.

“Are you alright?”

“No, you almost drowned me!” The words are followed by lots of hacking.

“I wouldn’t have done that. I just used the terrain to my advantage.”

“Oh fuck you,” he coughs some more and then spits, realizes it was into the water, and splashes at it like a child; pushing it away.

“Pretty sure it’s going to be the other way around.” Shinso can’t stop the smile that spreads over his face.

Bakugo’s head snaps up, his breathing still ragged.

“What was that you were saying about being a bottom bitch?” He teases.


“Wait, what?” That hadn’t been his comment earlier.

“Yes.” Bakugo’s ears are turning a bright pink.

“No, what do you mean by yes?” he clarifies.

“I want to be the bottom bitch.” Bakugo’s cheeks suddenly go a lovely shade of red before he grits his teeth and drops his head. “Oh for fuck sake, can you at least stop it with that!” he barks.

“With what?”

“Me having to answer all questions, THAT!”

“Do you really want me to?” Shinso asks, voice still somewhat mirthful.

“N-no,” it comes out against gritted teeth, and Bakugo shoves the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“Do you like having a little less control?”

“Yes.” He refuses to drop his hands as he sits in the hot water, steam curling around them.

“Look at me, Bakugo.”

His hands fall away.

“Do you understand that you can say no?”

“Yes,” he confirms, his eyes locked on Shinso’s.

“Do you want to continue?”


“Do you want to touch me?”

“Fuck yes.”

Shinso smiles and sits next to him,“ You’re free to touch me however you want unless I state otherwise.”

He barely gets the words out before Bakugo nearly snaps his neck he grabs him so quickly. Water splashes over the side of the tub as Bakugo straddles him; his fingers jerking Shinso's head back. The kiss Shinso is tugged into is more teeth than lips, and he feels the slightest of splits in the thin skin of his mouth. He can’t help but laugh a little at the harsh presses that only Bakugo could consider kissing.

“What?” Bakugo snarls when he pulls back.

“Do you have to be violent in everything?”

“No.” His cheeks color.

“Then don’t be.” Shinso reaches up and pushes back Bakugo’s hair, fingers tangling in the wet stands, and holds tight. Not to the point of pain, but just enough to control Bakugo’s decent as he comes down for another kiss. This time there is less teeth, more mouth, and Shinso does not worry about his skin as Bakugo moves with him. He can feel Bakugo’s cock hard against his belly as Bakugo kisses him, his usually explosive hands tight in Shinso’s hair as he seemingly tries to drag him closer; which is physically impossible without a fusion quirk.

Shinso releases Bakugo’s hair and drops his hands down to his hips, kneading the skin before moving on to his backside. Bakugo gives a small groan as Shinso presses his fingers into the flesh, splaying the cheeks apart beneath the water and then pushing them back together.

“Have you played with yourself before?”


“Yes, FUCK, why do you have to keep asking shit like that?”

Shinso chuckles as Bakugo drops his head against his shoulder. Bakugo’s fingers twine tight in Shinso’s hair to the point that his scalp is almost screaming. Worth it to feel Bakugo shudder just from his wandering hands.

“I want to know what you like,” he replies. “Maybe find a few things you were unaware of.”

“Fat fucking chance.”

“Did you know you liked being controlled before today?”


Again, another answer that surprises him.

“When did-”

“When you forced me to go to sleep that one time, second year,” he snaps before Shinso responds. His fingers loosen some on Shinso’s scalp. “I...I don’t think I ever slept better than that night.”

Shinso faintly remembers that. Bakugo had been in the common room, bitching and snapping at each person who had been anywhere in his vicinity.

Go to bed and have a good night’s rest, you idiot,” was the command he had given or something like that.

The next morning he had expected an explosion to the face that he thinks about it, he never did have any repercussions. A small chuckle escapes him.

“Really? Just from that?”

“And sparring.”

Alright, now that makes Shinso actually laugh.

“Shut up,” and Bakugo’s voice holds the closest thing to a whine Shinso’s ever heard come out of his throat.

“Do you want me to?”


“What do you want me to do to you, then?”

There is only a beat of silence before Bakugo responds, voice husky, “Anything.”

Shinso’s cock jumps beneath the water. Well, isn’t that quite the invitation?

“You tell me when I find something you don’t want,” he reiterates. It’s not really needed with his prior commands, but he adds the layer just in case. He can’t know how Bakugo’s thought process works or what loopholes his subconscious will try and find. Midoriya is good at that; taking a command and finding a way to twist it. Bakugo’s done it a few times, but Shinso’s been getting good about loopholes. Very good.

Shinso leans in and presses his teeth to the tendon’s of Bakugo’s neck and sucks as he gropes his ass with both hands. He is rewarded with a moan and Bakugo’s hips rutting against him. Shinso’s cock skims against the inside of Bakugo’s thigh, and he shudders as well. He’s aching, he realizes, and he hasn’t been worked up all day like this pent-up idiot. Still, he wants to do some exploring.

His tongue laves over his throat, licking away the bathwater on his way to Bakugo’s clavicle. The hands in Shinso’s hair grip and release as he traces his tongue along the bone. He kisses Bakugo’s Adam's apple and is feels a whine vibrate through it. Bakugo’s hips jerk against him.

“Patience,” Shinso hums, though, good fucking god he is running out of his own.

“That a fucking command?”

“I’ll let you decide,” Shinso responds as he finds the scar he had looked at earlier, pink and raised along Bakugo’s pec. He has to reach up and push Bakugo back a bit, getting some space between them so he can lean over and taste the old scar. It is a rougher sensation to his tongue than the rest of Bakugo’s skin, and as the tip of his tongue traces the tissue, Bakugo’s breathing becomes labored. The scar ends just below his collar, and at its end, Shinso presses his teeth into Bakugo’s skin and sucks.

“S-shit.” Bakugo’s hands push Shinso closer, helping his teeth to dig in, and Shinso has to lessen the bite to keep from breaking skin. He does, however, continue worrying the flesh, and when he finally pulls back sees a lovely bruise appearing. He raises his eyes and finds Bakugo staring at him with half-lidded ones. For a moment, Bakugo's eyes make it look like he’s fully under Shinso's control, but no, they’re just glazed with lust.

Shinso smirks and licks the mark, eyes locked on Bakugo’s.

“Hnnn, shit,” Bakugo bites as he grinds his lower body down. It makes both him and Shinso give small gasps as their cocks slide together beneath the water. Bakugo keeps going, rutting as he pulls Shinso back into a kiss, his tongue lapping into his mouth. Shinso reaches between them, his hand circling them and giving an experimental stroke.

Bakugo fucking keens.

“Do you want me to take care of you?” Shinso asks, kissing up the side of Bakugo’s neck, heading to his ear as he strokes them together and does his best to keep the pace slow.

“Yeeeees.” The word is drawn out and low as Shinso pulls the lobe of Bakugo’s ear into his mouth, teeth tugging gently. His fingers squeeze them together almost painfully before he lets go.

“Go get the lubricant from the medical cabinet,” he tells Bakugo as he pushes him off. “The waterproof bottle.”

Bakugo makes a sound that is caught somewhere between a growl and a sob before he takes off. He goes quicker than Shinso thought, practically vaulting over the side of the tub.

“Don’t slip!” he yells after him and gets a middle finger in response, though Bakugo does slow. Shinso’s eyes stick to him as he gets to the cabinet and starts to rummage, looking for the lubrication that is present for heroes with any quirks that involve having outside facing joints. He’s seen Sero rub it around his elbows before, and Iida along the openings in his calves; moisturizing the skin against the hot metal and limiting chafing.

“Why are there so many fucking bottles?!” Bakugo snarls before he finally finds what he’s been told to fetch. He comes back quickly, practically jumping back into the bath and splashing Shinso as he does.

“Eager?” Shinso can’t stop his grin; hell, he’s not sure he’ll be able to stop.

“Yes, the fuck do you think?” He shoves the bottle at him before pausing. “Wait. What about condoms?”

Shinso thinks about that a moment before smirking.

“Do you know which locker is Mineta’s?”

“Yes, but why the fuck would that little perver— Oh.”

“Exactly.” He reaches out and runs his hands up Bakugo’s outer thighs and hips and squeezes them. “Go get the condoms out of Mineta’s locker.”

“Oh you ass-hole,” Bakugo snarls as he slaps his hands away. “You are KILLING me.”

Shinso chuckles as Bakugo takes off again.

“You can use your quirk for this one thing!” he yells after him.

Probably not the best idea, because seconds later, he hears a loud bang that sounds like it blows up more than just one locker. Bakugo is rushing back a moment later, though still careful not to slip.

“You were right, the little pervert has like six boxes, all different sizes,” he says as he tosses a couple of boxes down on the side of the bath and jumps back in. “Now can we fucking do this already?”

“Someone’s impatient. What, did you want me to cum in you instead?”

“I don’t know,” he says immediately before pausing. Shinso watches as his brow furrows a little. “When’s the last time you got checked?”

Not a question he was expecting, but now that he thinks about it, a reasonable question to ask; a smart one.

“Last health check; a month ago,” Shinso replies.

“Same. I came back clean. You?”

“I don’t have anything if that’s what you’re asking.” Shinso smirks at him.

“Of course that’s what I’m fucking asking.” He looks him over again. “Been with anyone else since?”

Shinso shakes his head. “Don’t really get around much.”

“You saying you're a virgin?” Bakugo grins at him.

“Are you?”

“Yes, Oh FUCK YOU that was private.” That really is a lovely shade of red he can turn. Embarrassment looks good on him.

“So you can ask me, but I can’t ask you?”

“No, I mean, FUCK!” Bakugo rakes his hands through his wet hair.

“Hey, it’s nothing to be upset about,” Shinso says. “I just figured you and Kirishima had, ya know.”

“Kirishima’s my best friend,” Bakugo dead-pans, hands dropping.

“Could have fooled me.”

“Oh fuck you and everyone else who assumes that,” he snaps.

“Have you done anything with him?”

“Yes.” Bakugo glares at him.

“And what happened?” He’s pushing it now, he knows he is, but curiosity is a bitch, and Bakugo hasn’t told him to stop yet.

“We both decided we were better off bros who get each other off now and again,” he replies, cheeks red.

“But no sex?”

“No, alright, now you answer my fucking question?” Bakugo snarls as he stalks through the water towards him, looming over him with his arms crossed over his chest. It would be intimidating if Shinso wasn’t enjoying the way it made his muscles bunch.

“Which one?”

“ARE YOU A VIRGIN, for fuck sake, do you need me to carve it into your ears?”


“No to what?” Bakugo growls.

“No, I’m not a virgin.”

Some of Bakugo’s bravado seeps away, but he does his best to seem intimidating. Hard to do with his still hard cock at almost eye level. “Alright, then who’d you lose it to?”

Shinso feels his first sliver of apprehension, “Sure you want to know?”


Well, fuck. Bakugo has answered all his questions, even when he could have stopped him. Might as well return the favor, “Monoma, second year.”

“The fucking copy-cat!?” Bakugo almost shrieks.

Shinso shrugs and looks off to the side, dragging a wet hand over his hair. “It was only for a couple of months.”

“Huh?” Bakugo must hear something in Shinso’s voice because he stops trying to loom. “What happened?”

Well, that is a loaded question with a very simple answer that Shinso doesn’t really want to get into. But hey, fair is fair, right.

“He liked using my quirk more than I did, both in and out of the bedroom,” he replies. “And not always in a… moral way.”

“Oh.” Bakugo stands thinking for a moment before his face furrows, and his hands go to his sides, balled into fists. “I’ll fucking kill him.”

Shinso can’t help the laugh that comes out of him.


“Are you seriously thinking about going and punching Monoma to, what, defend my honor?” He does his best to keep the sentence light and joking despite his somewhat strained tone.

“Yes.” Bakugo’s voice is harsh, his teeth bared, and Shinso knows none of it is directed towards himself. That’s, well... wow. He swallows a sudden lump in his throat and feels something in his stomach do a lazy, pleasurable turn.

“Get over here,” Shinso commands softly, reaching out. Though his quirk is active, he barely feels it do anything as Bakugo moves to him. “I don’t want to think about that,” Shinso tells him as he drags his hands over Bakugo’s hips before gripping his cock. “Not right now.”

“O-ok,” Bakugo pants as Shinso starts to move his hand. “Still gonna kick his ass later.”

Shinso smiles as he rubs his thumb over a check mark shaped scar on Bakugo’s hip. With Bakugo standing like this, he’s at a very nice height.

“Do you want me to suck you off some?” Shinso asks, hand moving up and down at a teasing pace. Bakugo’s not small, but he’s not some sort of monster either. Maybe a little longer than average, a decent thickness; still enough to choke on that’s for sure.


“Has Kirishima done this?”

“No, fuck no, not with those teeth, and can we stop talking about him too?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologies before shifting and pulling Bakugo closer. Bakugo gives a deep groan as Shinso guides his cock to his mouth. His erection has lagged slightly, but it comes back quick enough as Shinso sucks a kiss against the head. Bakugo curls over him, groaning as his hands tangle in Shinso’s hair.

Shinso laps at his tip, licking up the sides and sliding down the foreskin with each pump. Bakugo lets out little pants and whines as Shinso slowly takes him into his mouth, bobbing against him now and again before taking more than half of him. Bakugo almost hits the back of his throat, but his gag reflex gets the better of Shinso, and he pulls off with a slurp that makes Bakugo shudder.

“Holy shit,” he gasps as Shinso laps at his head and takes it back into his mouth. He strokes him with one hand while the other gropes along the side of the bath. He knows he set to lube over there, so where the hell is it?

“F-for fuck sake, here.”

He’s sure Bakugo doesn’t mean to choke him, but the hot-head doesn’t seem to be thinking much as he pushes forward to reach over Shinso’s shoulder. His hips sink forward, and what had been a simple move to grab what Shinso was looking for stutters and turns into an almost full thrust down Shinso’s throat.

“G-god,” Bakugo stammers as he shudders, both of Shinso’s hands tight on his hips as they hold him in place. Bakugo is fucking shaking and despite the sharp pain in his throat and the tears in his eyes, Shinso kind of likes the sensation. At least for a time. He tries to swallow and gags, forcing Bakugo to pull back as he coughs and gasps.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t— fuck.” He lowers himself down, petting wet hair out of Shinso’s face while Shinso pulls in deep, shaking breathes.

“If you wanted to throat fuck me, you just had to ask,” he says roughly, a smirk on his face.

“Shit, can I?”

Shinso’s cock twitches. Does he want that? Can he take that?

“Yes,” he finally says as he watches Bakugo’s eyes trace his mouth. “But be careful this time.”

“Yeah, like you’re quirk won’t let me be anything but.”

It’s true, but Shinso can almost taste Bakugo’s apprehension as he stands back up. He pops the cap on the lube as Bakugo positions himself.

“Pull back when my nose hits your pelvis,” he tells him. “And don’t forget to let me breathe.”

“Can’t forget now can I?” he pants as Shinso opens his mouth, tongue out and welcoming.

Bakugo sets his cock just inside his mouth and gives a short, tentative thrust. Shinso responds by sliding slick fingers into the cleft of Bakugo’s ass.

“S-shit, that’s cold,” he pants as he slowly thrusts, his dick barely slipping inside.

Shinso can’t really smirk around the cock in his mouth, but Bakugo must see the smile in his eyes because he gives a small glare. It lasts only a moment before his eyes flutter shut and Shinso presses a single finger into his hole.

He teases at first, circling the rim as Bakugo’s thrusts start to get a little deeper, his hips rolling back after each push in. Shinso uses the movement to slide a finger inside, and Bakugo comes to a stuttering halt, hands going tight in Shinso’s hair.

“You okay?” he asks, kissing the side of his cock and getting a twitch out of it.

“Y-yeah just—” Bakugo rolls his hips back and groans. “Shit, yeah, okay, give me your mouth back.”

“Aren’t you demanding?”

“Yes. Shut up,” he snaps, fingers tightening enough against Shinso’s scalp to get him to gasp slightly. The fingers immediately let up, and Shinso grins before offering his mouth again. Bakugo takes it, going deeper, the head of his dick scraping over the back of his tongue as Shinso presses his finger in further with each roll of Bakugo’s hips. Bakugo spreads his legs out a little more, making it easier for his cock to slide into Shinso’s mouth, and allows the finger in deeper.

Shinso has to close his eyes as he tries to focus on breathing around the cock in his mouth and the finger working inside of Bakugo. Each time Bakugo slips deeper into his throat, he slips deeper into him. When the back of his throat is first bumped, Shinso stutters; gripping Bakugo’s ass in his free hand and spreading him as his finger slides in completely. Bakugo’s hips pause before pushing deep enough for Shinso’s nose to brush against his pubic hair. Almost immediately he pulls back, ass rolling down onto the finger.

“More,” he begs, and Shinso adds a second as he pants air in through his nose before Bakugo’s hips start to move quicker than before. He scissors his fingers inside him, working them in slowly as he massages the flesh of his ass and searches for his prostate. It doesn’t take him long, what with his long fingers and Bakugo trying to fuck himself back on them. The second they scrape it, Bakguo pulls Shinso’s head forward to swallow his dick as he stammers out harsh nonsense syllables.

“Fuck,” he says as he quickly pulls Shinso’s head back so he can cough and breathe. Shinso, however, does not pull out his fingers. He presses them up again and watches as Bakugo’s cock jumps.

“God damn it,” Bakugo keens. “S-stop or I’ll—”

“You don’t cum until I say,” Shinso pants, voice thick.

Bakugo groans low as his knees shake, the fingers in him spreading.

“Still doing alright?” Shinso asks him. He tries to swallow the thickness in his throat, and he can taste salty, bitter precum on the back of his tongue.

“What do you think?” Bakugo gasps. Shinso works in a third finger, his free hand on Bakugo’s hip to help him stay upright.

“I think you’re almost ready.” He’s not sure if Bakugo hears him over his groan, but holy shit if Bakugo’s body isn’t acting downright welcoming to his fingers now.

“Please can’t we just—” he shudders and almost falls forward as Shinso pushes into him.

“Yeah,” Shinso nods as he slides his fingers out and rinses them in the bathwater. “Yeah, we can.”

Shinso grabs the boxes of condoms off of the side of the bath and stands. He checks the two sizes and picks the one he thinks will fit best.

“We’re using them?” Bakugo almost sounds disappointed as Shinso opens the box.

“You want to have to clean cum out of your ass after this?” Shinso asks him.


“Then condom it is.” He tears open the package, and for the first time in his life, gives a silent thanks that he has such a perverted classmate. At least he’s well pre-paired.

“Can I do it?” Bakugo asks as Shinso goes to roll it on.

“Oh, uh, sure.” He hands it over, and Bakugo takes it with only slightly trembling hands. Shinso doesn’t comment.

“Need to learn how to do this shit myself,” Bakugo mumbles as he reaches over, pinching the tip like Shinso hand been, before rolling the rest down. It’s the first real contact Shinso has had from Bakugo, and it is met with a shudder and muffled groan.

“Can’t believe I’m about to have this thing in me,” Bakugo says softly. “You’re fucking huge.”

“I’m not that much bigger than you, ya know,” Shinso tries.

“Yeah, no, fuck you. This thing,” Bakugo squeezes him, and Shinso forgets to breathe for a moment. “This is not just a ‘little’ bigger,” Bakugo tells him.

“Whatever you say.”

“Damn right,” he snarls as he squeezes Shinso again before a slightly nervous look flits over his face. “It’s gonna fit, right?”

“Do you want it to?”

“Yes.” The blush reappears, though not as vibrant. Still damn endearing, though.

“Then we’ll make it fit.” Shinso reaches over and grabs the lube bottle, drizzles a generous helping over his wrapped dick, and shlicking it up. Small globs fall into the water and float around their thighs.

“Here,” he sits back on the cold tile of the tub’s edge. “You control how much you take at first.”

Bakugo looks at him with slight concern, but he climbs up and straddles him, arms wrapping around Shinso's shoulders to help him keep balance. They are both shaking slightly, and Shinso would like to believe it’s because they’re no longer in the hot bath water.


“Yes, now stop fucking asking,” Bakugo grumbles.

“Not likely.” He reaches behind Bakugo and lines himself up so that the head nudges against Bakugo’s slick hole.

Bakugo pauses for a moment before he takes a deep breath and starts to sit back tentatively. The head of Shinso’s cock takes a moment, but with only minimal resistance, it slips inside. Bakugo makes a choked sound and curls forward, legs trembling on either side of Shinso.

“Shh, I gotcha,” Shinso says, rubbing small circles into his back. It’s not quite a lie, but really, Shinso barely has control over himself. Even around just the head of his dick, Bakugo feels insanely good, and Shinso wants that same heat and pressure all the way down his length. But Shinso holds back despite how much it is killing him not to thrust up.

“O-okay, I, fuuuuuuck,” Bakugo groans as he keeps going; moving down inch by stuttering inch with Shinso panting against his neck.

“H-how much more?” Bakugo asks when he’s just over halfway, lifting himself up some before coming back down. He groans as he almost takes Shinso entirely before bouncing up again. His fingers press bruises into Shinso’s upper back while Shinso does his best not to just force him all the way down on the next roll of his hips.

“Do you want me to show you?” Shinso’s voice comes out tight as Bakugo almost goes all the way down. He’s so damn close to doing it.


It’s a mean move, really it is, but god he’s just ready. Shinso slides a hand under Bakugo’s backside, another behind his back, and stands in the tub. Bakugo slides down on him, his ass going flush to his hips, and lets out an airy cry while scrambling to grab Shinso's shoulders.

“How’s that?” Shinso asks as he steps into the water, his cock shifting inside Bakugo. It makes Bakugo cry out, hips rolling.

“S-shit, I—” his breathing cuts off, and his body thrashes. Shinso’s knees almost give out it feels so good.

“Just feel it,” he commands through a gasp. “Relax.” Shinso needs him to stop moving, or he’s going to collapse.

Bakugo holds onto his shoulders, but the tension in his body drains as Shinso carefully lowers them both into the water, his own knees shaking as he shifts inside Bakugo. At least Bakugo’s not going anywhere, not with how he’s holding on. Shinso goes to his knees one by one before sitting on his heels, pulling Bakugo with him, and watches as Bakugo lolls back. Here in the water, Bakugo doesn’t seem as worried about falling, and his body relaxes even more. One of his hands slip away into the water, the other tangles in Shinso’s hair, and Shinso is forced to hold him up while Bakugo’s thighs twitch around his sides. Shinso slides one wet hand into his hair, the other tight around his lower back.

Bakugo’s eyes are half closed, glazed and perfect as Shinso shifts him slightly, causing Bakugo to take in small, stuttering gasps that run the entire length of his body.

“I wish you could see yourself, Katsuki,” he says quietly, a smile spreading across his face as he tastes the other’s name. He shifts inside him and gets Bakugo to groan low; whether from Shinso using his first name or the movement he’s not sure. The fingers in Shinso’s hair tighten as Shinso gives a small, quick thrust, and Bakugo’s head falls back while his thighs twitch around Shinso's waist.

“You’re gorgeous like this.”

Bakugo lets out the same, high, breathy groan as Shinso leans in and licks over the same scar as before, nibbling over the mark he left. There isn’t much movement like this, but it is enough to make the water ripple out from around them, creating gentle splashing sounds against the side of the large tub.

“You can move freely now,” Shinso tells him as he gently rocks into his body; his cock never really leaving, but shifting the pressure. “How are you doing?” Shinso asks.

“I-I can’t tell,” Bakugo responds as his thighs squeeze Shinso’s sides.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“N-no, fuck,” Bakugo says as he seems to fully regain himself, thighs tightening as he tries to get closer. “I need more.”


“Yes. I, shit, I need—” Bakugo’s feet fall to either side of Shinso and plant against the ground as he grabs both of Shinso’s shoulders. With his new grip, Bakugo rolls his hips, and Shinso is the one that groans, hands pressing to Bakugo’s back as he helps him move. Everything starts slow and stinted, their mouths meeting time and time again between rolls of Bakugo’s hips and Shinso pulsing upwards into him.

“Not enough,” Bakugo pants after he pulls away from a somewhat desperate kiss. “F-fuck harder, I need it. I-I need—”


Bakugo’s answer is a sharp shout of ‘yes’ as Shinso rams his hips up hard.

“Fucking piece of shit, yes, I-I need, for fuck sake do that again you asshole,” Bakugo pleads as he tries to pull himself down, but the water slows his attempts, and Shinso’s upward thrusts drag under the friction of the liquid.

“Let’s try something else,” Shinso pants because he has to agree; this isn’t enough. “Get over against the side.”

Bakugo stands quickly, probably more so than he would usually, but Shinso isn’t thinking clearly, and his quirk moves Bakugo faster than he means it to. Both of them give out strangled groans at the separation before Shinso’s stumbles upward to catch Bakugo and help him along.

“Sorry, sorry,” he’s panting, arranging Bakugo up against the side. “Kneel on the bench,” he tells him, and Bakugo goes. He crosses his arms on the edge of the tub and drops his head onto them, legs spread out slightly as he kneels.

“Holy hell, Katsuki,” Shinso breathes as he looks down at him. His mouth feels dry because this is just too wonderful of a sight. Bakugo is nothing but pale skin crisscrossed in scars, and Shinso finds himself wanting to trace every single one despite the ache between his legs. His fingers paint down his back, making Bakugo shudder as he lets out a groan between clenched teeth.

“Shin—” Bakugo suddenly halts, and Shinso looks up at him. His cheeks are a delicious rudy color as he attempts to glare at him; hard to do with all the need in his eyes. “Hitoshi,” he says finally. “Would you just, fucking…” he drops his head back down and takes in a deep breath. “Fuck man, if you’re going to make me beg for it at least make it a damn command.”

Shinso sinks down behind him, knees on the edge of the bench and the balls of his feet pressed into the tub’s floor.

“I don’t think I have the patience for begging right now,” he replies as he snatches up the lube from the edge and liberally applies some more.

“Good.” Bakugo looks back at him, and this time he has a smirk. “Now would you hurry the fuck up? Or were those little touches all the fight you got left in you?”

“You have no sense of self-preservation,” Shinso murmurs as he lines himself up. “Do you?”

“Not re—” The rest of the answer is lost in a scream as Shinso shoves back in. He does not expect to bottom-out, but his hips hit Bakugo’s ass and push him forward. Bakugo’s hands squeak on the tile as he fights to brace them, keeping his hips from hitting against the rough side of the tub.


Shinso doesn’t respond as he pulls back and immediately rolls back in. Bakugo takes all of him, even pushes back to meet him.

“How’s this?”

“Harder!” The response is a staccato as Bakugo jerks his head up, forearms slipping on the tile.

“If that’s what you wa—”

“Just do i—”

Shinso goes so quickly he fucks the rest of the sentence out of Bakugo and into nothing but pants and cries. The constant splashes of water on Bakugo’s hips make him slippery, though, and Shinso’s hands switch from hips to shoulders, though those too are too slick to be a great handhold. Without thinking, he curls the fingers of one hand into Bakugo’s hair and holds tight.

A sound comes out of Bakugo that sounds suspiciously like a ‘yes’, though Shinso can’t be sure. Every other sound out of the guy beneath him is either a pleading syllable or choked consonant. He holds him like that, listening to the cries as he feels Bakugo’s insides flex and tightens. Delicious cries pour from his mouth, and Shinso finds himself very much wanting to taste them. Shinso hauls Bakugo back by his hair, forcing him to stand on his knees. He turns his head and kisses him hard, breathing in his cries as Bakugo shudders with each impact. With his free hand, Shinso reaches down and wraps it around Bakugo’s cock.


“Hi-hi—” Bakugo stammers as Shinso keeps going, burying his face in Bakugo’s throat as he holds him up. He sinks his teeth into the tendons and feels the next groan that vibrates through him. One of Bakugo’s hands reach up and wrap around the back of Shinso’s neck and pushes bruises into the skin as he lets out a downright sob.

“Hitoshi,” he gets out, voice strangled. “Fucking, please.”

“Please w-”

“Let me cum!” Bakugo screams. “Please, god damn it, I—” the sentence ends broken and almost pained and oh… oh, SHIT! He forgot the damn command!

“Cum for me, Katsuki,” Shinso pants because yes, he wants that. He wants that badly for the both of them.

He’s never heard anyone scream the way Bakugo does as the cock in his hand fucking quivers. Bakugo’s insides become a vice of heat. Shinso chokes on his own sudden orgasm as he watches through staticky vision as Bakugo paints lines of opaque white over the bathroom tiles. Somehow, Shinso manages to keep some semblance of a brain and strokes Bakugo through while he pushes small thrusts into him; milking them both. It isn’t until he stops feeling the pulse of orgasm under his fingers that Shinso stops.

“Katsuki,” he pants as he finds himself taking the full weight of the other as he falls back, arms dropping to his sides. His breathing is raspy and quick.

“Katsuki, answer me.”

He does not.

“Hey, I gave you an—” he cuts off. A sudden wave of panic fills him as he realizes that his strand of control is missing. When the hell had he dropped it? He pulls out of Bakugo gently, and even that only gets a strangled groan in response. He pulls off the condom with a quick jerk, not caring to tie it off as he throws it next to the mess Bakugo has made.

“Hey,” he sits back, pulling Bakugo down into the water with him, and makes sure his head stays up and propped on his shoulder. “Hey, come on, Katsuki. Talk to me.” Shinso caresses Bakugo’s cheek, which is flush and hot, and he looks like he has a damn fever. He brushes back wet hair from his face and swallows thickly.

“Come on, tell me you’re okay,” he whispers. He stares down at Bakugo’s face, heart hammering with new found adrenaline as he wonders what he’s done to Bakugo; broken him maybe? Should someone’s face even look like that after sex? How long had he forced him to wait for his release? Yeah, he’d wanted to get rough with him at the end but not fucking torture him!

“Hitoshi?” it comes out mumbled, Bakugo’s eyes fluttering open.

“Yes, I’m here, shit. Are you okay?” Shinso asks as he arranges them so that Shinso’s sitting on the low shelf, cradling Bakugo so that he is somewhat across him; head on one shoulder while sitting in Shinso’s lap. Bakugo looks up at him, red eyes unfocused, but at least his breathing seems to be evening out.

“I told you that you could stop me any ti—”

The small explosion from just beneath the surface of the bath takes him by surprise as water sprays into his face.

Bakugo gives a weak laugh as Shinso splutters, spitting water out and blinking it from his eyes.

“Y-you—” he stammers.

“Why the hell would I have told you to stop you, idiot?” Bakugo asks him, voice rough; he’ll be hoarse tomorrow for sure. “I told ya I get off on violence, and believe me,” Bakugo chuckles, eyes half-lidded as he peeks out at Shinso through pale lashes. “That was the most violent fucking orgasm I’ve ever had.”

“So I hadn’t lost control yet?” Shinso asks, some of the tension in his body leaving.

“Pretty sure my ass would disagree,” Bakugo winces as he shifts, “but no. Didn’t even realize it was gone until I used my quirk.”

“You really that out of it?”

Bakugo’s face falls into a slight frown. “You really gonna ask me that after the shit you just pulled?”

Shinso grins, he can’t help it. “Nothing you didn’t want.”

“Oh fuck you, man,” Bakugo grunts as he tries to sit up. Shinso holds him tight.

“C’mon, we should get out, already. We’re going to turn into prunes,” Bakugo murmurs, albeit sleepily.

“Yeah,” Shinso says as he goes to brush his thumb over Bakugo’s cheek; the bruise from his punch earlier has settled, and Shinso is somewhat happy to see that it isn't bad at all. He gets a half-hearted swat on the wrist before Bakugo sighs and turning his face into his palm instead.

“Didn’t really get clean though, did we?” he chuckles as he rubs at a smudge of dirt that stubbornly clings to Bakugo's jawline.

Bakugo looks up at him and smirks, arms reaching to wrap up around his neck. “Nope.” He starts to pull Shinso down. Shinso leans in, a smile on his face before he feels Bakugo’s lower body shift. The arms around his neck tug and roll them, forcing them both into the water before Shinso can even try and brace his legs.

Shinso swallows some of the bath water before he can snap his mouth shut, though he isn’t under for long. He comes up sputtering to Bakugo hissing; hands on his lower back while he stands on his knees in the water.

“God damn it, you freak,” he grits out.

“You’re the one who moved,” Shinso coughs. “I was trying to be nice and let you relax.”

“Yeah, you’re so nice,” Bakugo snarls as he leans forward a little. “I’m not gonna be able to walk straight tomorrow.”

“Not sorry.”

“Fuck you.” He gives him the finger as he goes to stand. Shinso gets up with him, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Come on,” he says as he takes some of his weight. “I got ya.”

“Better after what you just did to me.”

Shinso takes him into the showers and gets him a stool. Helping him sit is met with grunts and curses, but the second Bakugo has hot water falling on him he’s seemingly much happier.

“Here,” Shinso grabs a couple of the generic soap bottles kept in the room. They don’t smell great, but they’ll get him clean. “Gonna go get rid of the evidence.”

“Huh?” Bakugo looks up at him, hair hanging in front of his face as water runs down his skull and back. It makes Shinso’s stomach do a strange twist.

“What? You want everyone to know I pounded your ass, tomorrow?”

His response is another middle finger and a ‘fuck off’. He leaves Bakugo to wash his hair as he pulls a mop out of the cleaning supply closet and puts it to work. He uses the bath water as a bucket, and when the incriminating evidence is gone, drains the tub.

“Doing okay?” he asks as he comes back in and freezes. Bakugo is standing up and leaning on the wall, a hand between the cheeks of his ass and a scowl of pain on his face.

“The hell are you doing!?”

“Trying to wash out this fucking waterproof bullshit. Did you pour the whole bottle in me, the fuck?”

Shinso snickers.

“What, you find this shit funny?”

The snickering becomes a low chuckle.

“No, fuck you, you don’t get to laugh at me about this. You did this, you mind-bending piece of shit so— STOP LAUGHING AND HELP ME!” Small crackles of attempted explosions go off between Bakugo’s palm and the wall and, yeah, okay maybe Shinso should help. His fingers are longer and less likely to combust.

He only gets a few steps closer before Bakugo drops his hand and instead reaches over to shut off the water.

“Change your mind?”

“Doesn’t matter if you do it or me. I’m gonna have it coming out of me all night no matter what we do.”

“If you’re this pissed over lube then I’m glad we used a condom,” Shinso teases.

“Would have killed you if you hadn’t.”

“I don’t know,” he replies as he picks up the soaps. “It looked like you were thinking about it.”

Bakugo’s cheeks go a little red, but he doesn’t respond right away.

“Maybe another time,” Bakugo murmurs when Shinso has his back to him, slotting away the bottles. Shinso pretends he doesn’t hear.

They dry off with provided towels and change into their clothes; Bakugo into a fresh set stashed in his locker, and Shinso into the casual ones from earlier. Bakugo seems to be doing his best to ignore the rather destroyed set of lockers in the corner. Just inside the door is the pack of condoms.

“So, what’s our story for those?” Shinso asks him after a while. “People are going to want to know what happened.”

“I tripped,” Bakugo grumbles.

“Yeah, because people are going to believe that.”

“What, you rather we tell them you sent me on a fucking fetch quest for condoms?” he asks as he slings the bag with his costume over his shoulder. Shinso watches him wince as the weight makes him tilt.

“It would be funnier,” Hitoshi says as he reaches out to him. “Give me that.”

“Go fuck you-” Bakugo goes still, and Hitoshi smirks.

“Give me the bag, Kat—” The name sticks in his throat without the steam of the bath to coax it along. “Bakugo.”

Bakugo hands it over without a word and Shinso slings it over his own shoulder.

“I’ll walk you back.” He gets almost to the door before he drops his control.

“You bastard, get back here,” Bakugo shouts.

Shinso turns around to wink at him, still walking, before spinning around to walk outside. The cool air of evening hits him; a slap compared to the warmth that had hung in the showers and he pauses just outside the door. There is too much light pollution to see many stars, but on a moonless night, there are at least a few struggling to shine down.

“You piece of shit I swear that I’ll—”

"What,” Shinso asks as Bakugo almost walks past him. “Get violent with me?”

Bakugo’s cheeks darken and his palms crackle. Shinso thinks he might actually hit him before he ducks his head and starts to walk away, visibly limping. “Move it, I want to get back,” he calls.

Shinso catches up to him easily before shortening his stride to stay by his side. The world is still, the only sounds coming from late night insects and cars that are far away. He wonders what time it is, how long they had been in there. Even though the showers are still well within sight, it feels like it has been days since they were inside.

"That stuff I told you in there, it never leaves your mouth. Got it?”

Shinso looks over and finds Bakugo staring straight ahead, red eyes refusing to look at him as they walk down the path to the dorms; dim path lights illuminating them as they go.

“You really think I’d do something like blackmail?” Shinso snorts. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Hey, I’m just covering my ass,” Bakugo snaps.

“Was pretty wide open back th—”

“Shut up!”

Shinso smiles as he watches Bakugo’s face grow red with rage.

“Alright, alright I promise,” he says after a few minutes of watching Bakugo fume.

“Good,” Bakugo grumbles, and then, “I’ll keep my mouth shut too.”

Shinso says nothing to that.

“But I'm still going to kill that fucking copy-cat."

Shinso stutters to a stop, and Bakugo stills a few steps away.

“What?” he asks him, voice a little hoarse.

“You heard me,” Bakugo murmurs, he’s still looking forward, his back to him.

"Bakugo, it was over a year ago, it's fine. Just—"

"It's not fucking fine!” he snaps as he whirls around, eyes bright in the dark as he stares right at Shinso. “Whatever the fuck he did, it is not fine, and he’s going to pay for it. Besides,” he huffs, “The bastard has it coming."

Heat seeps into Shinso’s cheeks as he watches Bakugo, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and eyes not quite looking at Shinso. He feels his stomach clench, and his lungs forget to breathe as he watches Bakugo reach up to rub at a distinct red mark on his neck.

"Still wanting to protect my honor?" Shinso tries to make it sound teasing, but his voice is still a little too tight.

"Kinda mine to protect now,” Bakugo says, eyes looking away from him before sliding back up. The red of rage is gone, replaced with a hopeful pink. “Right, Hitoshi?"

Shinso doesn’t register that he’s dropped the clothing bag until he has one arm around Bakugo’s back, and the other in his hair. The now almost dry strands are soft beneath Shinso's fingers.

Bakugo’s hands grab at the back of his shirt as their mouth crush together. The kiss isn’t soft, nor sensual, in fact, it’s just a little bit violent.