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Bosom Buddies

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His feet were sore, his chest was sore, his arm was sore; everything about this training exercise had gone wrong when it could have.

Bakugo fucking hated their class sometimes, their ability to magnetize trouble seemed almost statistically impossible yet here they were, again .

Soaking wet.

The premise of the training was already bad enough, simulated civilian rescue. They did this what seemed like every other day, and yet they somehow managed to screw it up every single time. It was no small wonder they kept assigning them it.

Not that far into the exercise, still on route to the rescue operation and the groaning scattered volunteers, the power went out and they were pitched into complete darkness. The groans turned to screams briefly, then blissful silence. It wasn’t entirely clear at first if this was part of the test or an accident, they literally never knew what Aizawa would throw at them next.

There was a column of light that shone through the darkness after not even a minute of Bakugo’s frustrated swearing that shot up into the sky. Aoyama's gleaming beacon made for a good reference point but unfortunately hit just the wrong place on the ceiling, his range now exceeding even the roof, to set off the sprinkler system.

So now they were tired, with no vision, and wet now.

Today was awesome.

There were no sounds near Bakugo aside from the footsteps next to him that crunched to a stop, and the dripping water hitting everything.

"Aw man, rain? Is it supposed to be a storm? Are we supposed to rescue people from flooding?"

Kirishima's voice echoed from his side, full of wonder and none of the disdain that Bakugo himself was feeling.

"The glittering idiot blew a fuse, it exploded right there!” He knew Kirishima couldn’t see where he was pointing, but it was the principal of the thing to point and glare into the darkness. "How could you miss that?"

Kirishima made a non-committal noise. "You sure know your explosions so I guess you'd know best.” Bakugo bit back the retort he could feel at the tip of his tongue as Kirishima continued to speak. “It's just, this doesn't feel like normal water yeah? It stings? No, it tingles more than it hurts. Do you feel it?”

“No,” snapped Bakugo, clenching his fists in his gauntlets that were collecting rainwater as they spoke. Was it raining harder now? He forcefully ignored the water he could feel seeping into his clothes. There was something in the water he was sure, but Kirishima was right, it didn’t seem to hurt, just pooling in the neck of his regretfully designed new outfit to swash down the front of his chest. "Fuck!" He shook it out hastily and it splashed out onto the ground.

“Are you okay?” Kirishima said instantly, his arm grabbing his elbow too fast for someone in the dark as they were.

Cursing, he shook his arm free. “I’m fine.”

If it was covering him in this weird effect, Kirishima must be drenched, his inability to keep a shirt on exposing him to this weird quirk toxin even more. Whatever feeling it was that Kirishima had mentioned, Bakugo was feeling it too which means it wasn't made up, and they should definitely get out of the rain. Bakugo reached out to grab Kirishima roughly and pull him to his side. "It stings but you're just going to stand there staring at the sky and let it sting you more aren’t you?"

"I didn't say I was doing that!"

"Yeah, but you were."

The silence was broken by a hearty chuckle. "Okay, so I was, but you've got to face your problems head on all manly-like."

Manly again. Bakugo tsked loudly and stormed his way through the darkness before lighting a palm ablaze carefully, facing the ground to illuminate it. Whatever was in this rain didn’t ignite. In the direction he had last seen the beam, there was the remains of a building, smoking in the hazy rain. It looked dilapidated if not somewhat structurally sound, and enough for them to take shelter.

Whatever this rain was, he didn't like it. He felt like he couldn't breathe, his chest constricting, feeling like his ribs were swelling in his shirt to cut off his air. It was extremely uncomfortable, but nothing he couldn't handle.

"Get inside," he growled, and let go of Kirishima's arm to stalk under cover and start one-handedly searching through the piles of rubble. It was too much to ask for a towel apparently, finding only damp wood and broken concrete. He continued his search out of sheer stubbornness anyway.

The rain got even harder, further fueling his assumption this was not normal rain. The sprinkler systems would have shut off by now if it was normal, but it was still possible that it was part of their homerooms teacher further attempts to murder them by surprise. He wouldn’t be surprised if All Might himself emerged from the rubble in front of him dressed like a storm cloud.

The light from his hand flickered off puddles pooling on the edges of the floor and at his own feet. He could only hear the crunch of gravel under his feet, his heavy breathing, and the pouring rain.

He could tell Kirishima had followed him inside but the distinct lack of chatter meant something was wrong. Normally Kirishima would either be a.) rambling on about some heroic manly hero thing that had to do with water, b.) some new tv show he and the others watched that Bakugo should definitely join them in watching despite them being in the middle of training, or c.) he was scouting the area to report back.

He hadn’t moved from his spot as Bakugo stormed around, probably because Bakugo himself was the only light source, but the distinct lack of presence at his shoulder like he was used to was unnerving.

Silence and Kirishima did not mix well.

The constriction of his chest felt even tighter as he waited for some sign of life. He refused to turn around and directly check, more focused on finding some sort of dry wood to burn or some fabric to dry himself off; Kirishima too. If something had happened to him, having no doubt drank it facing the sky like a fool, or had so much exposure to his skin, it meant Bakugo's own effects weren’t far behind.

"Uh, Bakugo?"

Thank god, he wasn't dead or unconscious at least.


He chuckled again, whatever it was, he seemed to think it was funny. “I think I found out what the water does."

Before he could turn around and ask, the screech of a crackly bullhorn appeared over the sound of the water and Bakugo let his hand go out, letting the darkness surround them as they shifted into defensive positions. It would have to wait.

"Uh," the voice said garbled and heavy, but no doubt the voice of their homeroom teacher. "The facility has been tampered with, this exercise has been put on hold.”

"What the fuck?" Bakugo said at the same time Kirishima heaved a sigh of relief and said, "Oh thank god.”

The faint voice continued. "Take shelter and wait for the rain to stop. Stay out of the rain. For those of who have come into prolonged contact with the water, don’t worry, it will not harm you.”

So it won’t harm them, it was discomforting at the least, but at least his lungs wouldn’t stop working. They still felt like it though and Bakugo tugged at his jacket to alleviate the pressure. It didn’t help.

"The effects shouldn’t last too long. For the meanwhile, stay put and stay out of trouble," Aizawa finished, and did not speak again.

"Effects? What kind of test is this?" Bakugo grumbled.

Kirishima laughed nervously. “I'm pretty sure he said something went wrong because I'm pretty sure this isn't in the curriculum."

Okay, so Kirishima knew something he didn't. Turning on his heel, Bakugo stomped toward the sound of his voice. "What isn't--" he started to say, igniting both palms as a gesture of intimidation and frustration, and froze in his tracks.

Kirishima indeed was just as soaking wet as he was, hair falling out of its signature style and skin glistening wet. He had a pool of water under his feet around his boots, and a sheepish grin on his face.

Oh yeah, and he had a pair of tits that definitely weren't there earlier today.

He watched a rivulet of water trickle between globes of flesh in shock, those were new for sure. He spent enough time around the other man shirtless and looking at his admittedly large pecs to know the difference. But this? This was ridiculous.

Kirishima had full blown breasts, and they were huge.

The other male looked at him sheepishly. “ Yeah I uh…. I think it’s an adult quirk,” he said as if it wasn’t obvious.

Bakugo was truly at a loss for words as he gaped. “Yeah,” he managed.

Encouraged by his response, Kirishima looked relieved, and made no attempt to cover up his newest acquisitions. “I’m not sure who would break into a school and give all the students breasts but I’m glad it doesn’t last all that long.” He paused, then laughed, chest heaving and Bakugo was spellbound by the movement. “Oh boy, what if Aizawa got caught too, no wonder he sounded so pissed.”

Kirishima continued to laugh as if the idea of their teacher with boobs was the funniest thing he had ever heard despite the fact he was sporting a pair himself. They bounced as he laughed, big tanned globes that squished together as they smacked into his arms or each other even. Something that big shouldn’t be gravity-defying like that right? Boobs didn’t normally hang so round and big and perfect to stare him in the eye with soft looking nipples.


“Hey man, are you okay?” Kirishima asked, having since stopped laughing, and Bakugo distantly realized he must have been staring for too long, and brought his eyes upwards. “What’s wrong?” he asked earnestly, eyes wide. A clump of slick wet hair drooped between his eyes but he didn’t even seem bothered by it,

Or the—

“WHAT’S WRONG?” he shouted, finding his voice in a burst that had his palms cracking with anger. Kirishima didn’t back off and just kept looking at him with those doe eyes of his. “YOU’VE GOT FUCKING TITS!”

“Hell yeah I do,” Kirishima said proudly, and cupped one to look at it. “Think they’re as big as Yaomomo’s?”


Nodding, Kirishima let his hand drop as if this was all normal. “You’re right, I shouldn’t be using her an example, that’s pretty rude of me.”

“THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT!” Bakugo seethed. “I mean, how are you so calm?"

“They’re just breasts Bakugo,” Kirishima said, his smile still strong on his face.

He stepped closer causing Bakugo to stumble backward as he advanced. “Stay away!”

“Bakugo,” Kirishima scolded. “They’re not going to hurt you.”

“It’s weird, don’t touch me,” he snapped. How was he taking this so calmly? They had weird stuff happen to them all the time sure, they’d both been turned into meatballs for fucks sake. But there was something about this one that just felt wrong. It felt inappropriate even though he saw his chest and nipples every day. They were too…. Soft, and on Kirishima they looked….. no. “Cover that up Kirishima,” he snapped.

He frowned at him from what was now one foot away. “Why?”

“It’s indecent!”

“I don’t wear a shirt every day?” Kirishima said confused.


Kirishima bit his lip to keep from smiling as he looked Bakugo over. “You know what else is different?” he asked, his voice wobbling with poorly contained amusement.

Bakugo glared at him, careful to keep his eyes up to his face. His face he could handle, even if his hair was so different than he was used to, it was still better than… those. “Your shitty sense of humor?”

He giggled. “No.”

“Your tits?”

“No— Okay yes, but what ELSE is different?"

Bakugo frowned harder and Kirishima smiled even more to make up for it like it was some sort of competition. “What?” he growled.

He simply pointed at him. “That.”

Bakugo looked down. He was drenched in water, that wasn’t new, they were both fucking soaked. His winter outfit was new sure but he’s been wearing it for a solid week now, its novelty had worn off now. It wasn’t cold in this building, not even the rain bringing a chill for some reason. For all its faults the training building still had proper insulation for its size he guessed.

“You don’t see it?” Kirishima asked, voice wobbling again.

“No, because nothing changed.”

Kirishima raised one single brow, arching high onto his forehead. It only brought Bakugo’s own further down as Kirishima came closer, finger outstretched, to poke at Bakugo’s chest. It burned.  “What the fuck?!” he shouted, jumping back. He hesitantly brought the hand not currently lit up on fire to touch it gently.


“Dude…” Kirishima drawled.

No. This wasn’t happening.

“Just accept it.”

He would not accept it.

This wasn’t happening.

Bakugo sped through an open doorway he hadn’t gone through where he gratefully found some wood in the corner that was covered in dust and a bit of mold; it was gross but actually dry. He grabbed it and let his palm heat up as if he was charging an explosion until the wood ignited in flames. Pulling the mental plug on his quirk, the recoil bounced back and his arm grew stiff, and the force of it rocked into his chest that twinged and cramped.

This wasn’t happening.

His gauntlets came off and were tossed to the side, they could dry off he wasn’t using them now. With the light of the fire on the cement floor, the room was illuminated properly and he looked down at his chest in trepidation. He wasn’t used to it being so covered, everything was fine this morning but the tightness he was feeling….

The swell of his pecs wasn’t normally this high and the pinched nerve at his temple throbbed as he gritted his teeth, and carefully unbuttoned the neck of his jacket. Raising his arms that high hurt, his chest shifting against the fabric uncomfortably so he yanked the zipper down without preamble.

The cleavage that was exposed wasn’t his normal cleavage, it was deeper, rounder, and as he zipped it down just under the edge of them, the rest came spilling out in a rush that left him able to breathe. The relief was palpable as he gulping in air while glaring at the exposed flesh now in front of him.

He had boobs too.

That was the logical turn of events, for it to change Kirishima and not him wouldn’t make sense, though he was glad to see they were much smaller than Kirishima’s. The amount of exposure no doubt contributed to how big they grew, but his were still…. there.

“Hey man, I’m sorry, I don’t see what the big deal is they’re just breasts, we basically have them already. They’re just…. a lot softer now, and bigger.” Kirishima’s voice got louder as he got closer and he came up behind Bakugo scuffling on the concrete floor. “If you want me to I’ll search for something else? This is comfortable but if you don’t like em’ I’ll put them away the best… I can…. Bakugo?”

His voice trailed off as Bakugo slowly turned around. “What the fuck,” Bakugo whispered, looking at his own cleavage and how the light changed the shadows and shape as he moved. They had popped free of his jacket that he didn’t care enough to zip all the way down. His didn’t stay up all firm like Kirishima’s did, they sort of floated, pushed up and together by the stiff fabric, his nipples just barely peaking over the edge. “This is so fucked up.”


Bakugo looked up to see Kirishima’s eyes laser-focused not on his like they had been before, but on his chest. “What?” he snapped, feeling awfully self-conscious.

Kirishima didn’t even look away as he came a few steps closer, reaching out to turn Bakugo slightly in the light before Bakugo slapped his hands away. “I think yours are bigger,” he said eventually.


“Are you kidding me? No they aren’t, they're just—“ Bakugo fought with the zipper to yank it back up his chest no matter how borderline painful it was, but it only moved a few teeth before getting stuck. It only served to push his new boobs up higher which made Kirishima swallow. “They’re all propped up while yours ar—“ he gestured wildly and his fingertip grazed Kirishima’s skin.

Kirishima gasped and his eyes jolted back up. “Whoa.”


“That was awesome.”

Bakugo groaned and rubbed his forehead. “Of course you’d like this.”

“Nah man like, when you touched it.” Kirishima grabbed his own breast, the same one Bakugo realizes he had just touched, and moved it around in his palms. It flowed in his hands hypnotically. “It doesn’t feel as good when I do it.”

Against his will, Bakugo felt a flush of warmth at his groin. Had he actually just said that it didn’t feel as good as opposed to when Bakugo touched his damn nipples? And he himself was turned on by that?

He watched as Kirishima hefted his chest in his hands muttering under his breath as he examined them. Kirishima’s hands were a decent size, big, sturdy, yet they were overflowing with boob that spilled over the sides and pillowed in his fingers. His nipples peeked from between his parted fingers. It was….

Nope not thinking about that.

Kirishima looked back at him eventually and looked a whole lot more determined. “Okay, so, do it again.”

“What,” Bakugo said deadpan, it wasn’t even a question, it was a point blank refusal. To what, he didn’t know, but he was not going to “do it”.

“Touch me again!” he said enthusiastically. With hands full of boob, Kirishima stepped forward and offered them to him as if on a platter.

“What the fuck no, I’m not going to grab your damn boob Kirishima!” Bakugo snapped.

He pressed forward insistently. “Come on, I’m curious! It’s never every day I have them!” He dropped one where it bounced, and reached out to Bakugo’s own, cupping quickly it before he could react. Heat raced through him so fast it was like he had been lit on fire.

“Oh shit,” they both said at the same time, both letting go and taking a step back.

Kirishima looking at him warily. “Are you oka—“

“If you ask me one more time if I’m okay, I’m going to blow your damn head off,” Bakugo snapped.

There was silence, the rain quieter in this part of the building.

“So… if I ask if I can touch your boobs you’re going to say…..?” Kirishima ventured after a solid minute of Bakugo refusing to look at him.

“No!” Bakugo said, drawing his arms to his chest, then upon realizing what he did, settled them the best he could across and look angrily at him. All it did was push up his boobs higher, his nipples cresting out over the fabric and Kirishima honest to god whimpered.

“That’s so not fair!” he whined, face scrunching up dramatically. “Even when you’ve got such an awesome rack you still look so manly!”

“Of course, boobs don’t change that,” Bakugo said before he realized, then cursed internally. That would only encourage him.

He was right, Kirishima had regained his nerve and was reaching back out slowly. “Come on, I just wanna see. Yours looks so different, look at your tiny lil nipples!” he crooned.

The words were patronizing but Bakugo found himself rising to anger. “No they aren’!”

“Yes they are! Look!” And then Kirishima was far too close, gesturing down. Even with all the swaying and movement, his nipples were smooth and flat.

Bakugo looked down at his. “They’re the same size idiot look.” He pulled the skin on top of one breast to lift the nipple higher so that they both could examine it more closely. “It’s the exact same.”

Kirishima looked over the moon to be invited for a closer look, and bent down closer, huffing and Bakugo hated how the rush of air felt so good. Regardless, he shook his head a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “Bakugo, dude, yours are so much smaller. Maybe it’s because my boobs are bigger?”

He looked down to pull at his own. “Well, your nipples don’t look any different! Just the… breast part!” Bakugo protested.

“I can’t believe my own bro doesn’t even notice the change in my nipple size when I’m hit by a quirk.” The glare Bakugo gave him could melt steel bars and the popping from the hand not on his boob sure could too. Kirishima laughed in the face of this, clapping Bakugo on the shoulder. “I’m kidding of course, I never expected you to.”

“Mine didn’t change,” Bakugo snapped, letting his hand fall to his side, extinguishing the other since it wasn’t needed anymore. All this exposed skin and fire didn’t mix well. “So it wasn’t the quirk.”

“Oh I know,” he said cheerfully. Bakugo stared at him blankly while Kirishima looked bashful for a second, then reconstructed his ‘face of professionalism’, that crumbled into pleading not long after. “Please! I just want to see!”

Here it was, where Bakugo truly went off the deep end. On his expulsion papers, they were going to have to write the cause as ‘murdered friend and fellow student because he wanted to compare quirked nipple sizes while half-naked in the rain'. The horrific transcript message haunted him but he was still so tempted.

Somehow, Kirishima was pulling off a picture perfect expression of such begging sadness, like he would die without getting to touch his skin. It stirred something inside of him, something intense that liked that pleading look on Kirishima. Being held in such high esteem that he was begging to lay a hand on him, not in violence, but in reverence? This was new and not wholly unwelcome, but Bakugo still couldn’t help his blush as he said against his better judgment, “......fine.”

Now with permission, Kirishima’s face lit up and he raised his arms hastily, it set off a whole ripple of movement that Bakugo definitely didn't watch for. His hand cupped the breast Bakugo had used as an example earlier without any hesitation.

Kirishima’s skin was rough, curving to smoothness near the center of his palm but the outsides were not. He lifted the breast higher so he could move it out from the jacket. It didn't work entirely, but Kirishima made do, the pads of his fingers gently drawing an arc across the front, directly over the nipple. It sparked, sending heat radiating from the tip and Bakugo jerked, looking down, half expecting to see actual fire.

All he found was Kirishima’s smirking, know it all face. “See?” he said teasingly. “Good right?”

“That's how it felt? Just my fingertip? Felt like that?” Bakugo asked.

Kiris hima nodded, eyes drawing away to focus on where his fingers were steadily working away at Bakugo’s pebbling nipple. “You can do wonders with just the tip Bakugo.”

“Shut up!” he snapped, smacking the other in the head. It didn't loosen the bright smile. It did bring his attention back to Kirishima’s own nipples.

If he looked close enough, which he wasn’t, he might begin to see what Kirishima had meant about nipple size. The ring of darker skin around the protruding nub was much larger on Kirishima than it was on his own, darker colored too. If he reached out, which he wasn’t, he wondered if they would be as smooth as they looked, or if all parts of Kirishima’s skin were as rough as he had felt so far.

It startled him to know he really did want to know.

A tweak at his nipples has him jerking back, pain and pleasure warping into something strange that festered under his ribs, throbbing behind his right breast, and between his legs. Kirishima continued to smile at his reactions. “Yes?” he asked, as if he didn’t know exactly what he was doing.

His superiority complex had him rearing back under the attention and bright eyes. He knew Kirishima, he wouldn’t be messing with him to make him weak on purpose. Sometimes he wondered though because that smile was too smug right now. He wanted it gone, where was that worshipful look again? He wanted that back.

Determined, Bakugo reached out and groped Kirishima roughly. He was pretty sure that’s what touching a cloud felt like. He couldn’t feel his skin under the fabric of his gloves, but as he rubbed his thumb down the slope, copying what Kirishima had done, he marveled at the smooth looking skin at least. His thumb left an indent at the slightest of pressure, which incidentally, made Kirishima make a breathy moaning sound.

Kirishima promptly jerked away, eyes wide, bringing his previously busy hand up to cup his breast protectively. This image was shattered by his wild hair and second breast in the open air.

“What?” Bakugo snapped, irritated. “I finally fucking touched you!”

Kirishima continued to stare, a faint redness starting to color his face, eyes locked onto Bakugo’s.

He was pissing him off. First shameless flaunting, then ‘oh Bakugo, touch my tits’ , and now it was this wide-eyed scandalous look.

He didn't seem to have the words to answer and instead spluttered, “I didn’t realize...  I-I never… it uh.”

But now Bakugo’s curiosity had been peaked. Kirishima seemed to think this was no big deal, and it wasn’t, if he wanted to touch sure he could, whatever. That means Bakugo was going to as well.

Bakugo needed to know if they were soft.

He yanked at the fastening of his gloves without breaking eye contact with Kirishima, and tossed the whole thing to the ground.

“What are you doing?” Kirishima asked, a slight touch of fear in his voice.

Fear? Kirishima didn’t fear him. He was going to make sure of that.

“Stop being weird I’m just grabbing your tit like you wanted,” Bakugo said lowly, and tossing his other down, it made a faint smack at it his the cement. Bakugo’s hands felt clammy, whether it was from anger or the rain or what, he didn’t know. He flexed it, fingers grappling to stretch in the open air.

“Yeah you sure did,” Kirishima agreed, voice high.

“So come here, I’m not done,” he said, cocking his head and reaching out his hand to grab at the air.

Kirishima was still looking at him and whimpered at his words, taking a step backward, which Bakugo found odd considering his ‘unbreakable manly spirit’. He ignored it, and took another step forward, which Kirishima promptly backed up from as well, his other hand coming up to cover his other boob. Now he looked like he was finally aware he had boobs and was being decent, but all Bakugo wanted him to do was move his damn hands down and stop running away.

“Stop running,” Bakugo ordered him aloud. A frantic shake of his head was Kirishima’s response, and Bakugo felt the throb of anger again under his temple.

He charged up his hands slowly, carefully so he didn’t cause a large explosion. “Just get,” they got hotter, and Kirishima realized instantly what he was doing, and backed up. “ Your ass ,” Kirishima was nearing the door. “ BACK HERE !” he roared, and charged forward.

Kirishima had nearly made it out of the room, but turned to raise his arms instantly to counter the propelled Bakugo, hardening his entire body. The force Bakugo used wasn’t enough to knock him over, but it did send Kirishima skidding back a few feet on the wet ground. Bakugo kicked out to catch the back of Kirishima’s knees, using the power of an explosion to the face, and the wet floor underfoot to counterbalance Kirishima to the floor.

He fell with a resounding crash that had the fire flickering on the other side of the room and Bakugo immediately straddled him, locking his legs with his own. Bucking under the weight, Kirishima twisted, punching at Bakugo who leaned back just enough to miss, but had forgotten about his newest additions, causing the hardened skin to draw blood on the top of his exposed breast.

Bakugo hissed at the sting, and counterattacked, reaching to solidly punch at Kirishima’s own boobs, a larger target left undefended by his flailing arm. His fist connected solidly to the literal rock of his skin, and Bakugo growled. Of course he would harden his entire body, that’s how his quirk worked . Even the nipples had hardened into sharp peaks, but Bakugo ignored that and cupped both his hands around each nipple, and heated his palms, amping up to an explosion, determined to strike at this newest weak spot.

Kirishima sucker punched his stomach and he grunted, releasing the flurry of explosions that rocked them both in their grapple, legs flexing. He persisted, shot after shot that while Kirishima fought back but Bakugo endured the blows, voice amping up to a scream in the haze of smoke.

After a while, he ran out of air so he stopped his screaming, blows fading down to nothing in the grey haze. At least his hands were dry now. They tingled, amplified by his quirk until his normal sensitivity returned, feeling skin beneath his fingers instead of stone.

The smoke started to clear, Kirishima having stopped struggling to pant instead. His breasts rose and fell, and pillowed to look even bigger than before now that they were laying down. Bakugo’s entire hand couldn’t even encompass the whole thing but he sure as hell tried anyway.

“Will you fucking stop struggling now?” Bakugo growled, hands tightening warningly.

Kirishima was even more disheveled now. From where he was perched, Bakugo could look down on him completely at the mercy of his anger and fingers. His face was completely red too, from exertion or embarrassment Bakugo didn’t know, but more importantly, he didn’t care. Kirishima didn’t respond, just stared at him, eyes wide, mouth agape as he gasped for breath.

Cautiously, as Kirishima could try to escape at any time, Bakugo removed his hands to take a closer look.

Now, the nipples had changed again, they had hardened, and unlike the blades of his quick, they looked soft just like the rest of his skin. The stuck up into the air, thick and full, and with his bare finger, Bakugo traced the edge of where the dark circle of his areola blended into the tanned skin he saw every day. Fuck, they really were bigger now.

To his surprise, the skin was rough, not like his hardening, but the slight sandpaper his entire body was covered in. It had been super annoying at first, it felt like the boy had a severe and gross case of eczema. That took time to get used to until eventually it didn’t bother Bakugo at all. Right now however, it was hot. Under his hands, still sensitive from the rain and the fire and all of the dumb shit that had happened today, it felt good.

Peering over at Kirishima for his reaction, it looked like the other boy might pass out he looked like he was holding his breath. He noticed Bakugo looking, and released it, drawing another quickly. “Hi, I uh- What?” he asked shakily.

Drawing slow circles on his skin, Bakugo smirked at him. “Got something to say now?” he drawled.

Visibly swallowing, Kirishima shook his head lightly. “Nope, I’m good, I’m g ooooOOODD BAKUG-!!”

In the middle of his response, the second it had been favorable, Bakugo had clamped his fingers around the nipple, pinching tight, and watched Kirishima’s face scrunch up in pleasure. The feeling of Kirishima’s stomach spasming underneath his thighs gave him a rush. “I didn’t ask how you were feeling,” he said calmly. “I asked if you were going to be a smartass again.”

“N-no,” Kirishima gasped, his hands coming up to grab at Bakugo’s thighs bracingly.

He removed his hands from Kirishima’s skin to smack them away. “No, don’t touch me.”

Bakugooo ,” Kirishima whined, shifting underneath him, moving them both which both frustrated and aroused Bakugo that he could move both of them at once so easily. Kirishima could get up at any time and Bakugo would have to use his quirk to stop him, but he didn’t, staying pinned here. “It’s … so much just… let me…”

He really was breathless, and Bakugo paused to examine him again. They knew the quirk wouldn’t hurt them and he didn’t look to be injured, just flustered. “Oi,” he said, kneeing him softly in the ribs. “You going to die on me from just one pinch?” He twisted his thumb again and Kirishima squirmed. “Or two?”

“No!” Kirishima said for what must have been the fourth time, and looked up at him, bit his lip, then faced away from him, off towards where the fire was. Sharp shadows from the joints of his mask cutting through the dancing warm light across his expression.


He took a deep breath that rose Bakugo in the air before speaking again. “I just…’m more sensitive than I’m used to,” he mumbled.

Thumbing the nipples absentmindedly, Bakugo watched as the lines of Kirishima’s face flexed along with the fingers gripping his legs. “ But it’s not bad yeah?”

“No, it’s fine.”


Bakugo was fully aware he had been played into this situation, and he was going to make Kirishima regret making him essentially molest the boy. Not to say he wasn’t into it, he was very forcefully reminded that the quirk had not changed his genitals as his dick stiffened the more he groped. His other hand came up to rub the other nipple softly, contrasting the sharp grip of the first. He could wrap his fingers around the entirety of the nub, pinching tight.

“Fuck Kirishima,” Bakugo said in wonder, pulling it up tight, stretching the nipple. He bucked upwards, his chest pushing up to chase his touch. Or to stop him from yanking the flesh off of his body, but Bakugo was willing to be it was the first option though given the high pitched whine. After a moment, he let go, watching as everything ricocheted back to the ground in a bouncing mess.

Careful!” Kirishima gasped.

Careful my ass. “You’re going to take when I give you,” Bakugo snarled. He pulled again, watching one nipple bulge while he thumbed over the other gently. The fact it was rough still blew his mind, skin being this rough all over was one hell of a sensation.

Letting go of the abused side, Bakugo leaned back again and grabbed his own. It was like warm velvet. Much of his skin was soft from the glycerin side of his quirk, a handy thing from his mother, a complete opposite of Kirishima. He palmed his hand down Kirishima’s sternum while touching his own. “ Fuck Kirishima ,” he repeated, his own voice lowering in awe at the contrasting sensations. He could feel his heart beating rapidly under his palm, Kirishima’s a sharp staccato as his eyes were closed in bliss.

Please,” he gasped out, then froze and let go of Bakugo’s leg in an instant, eyes flying open. Bakugo’s hands jerked up and off both of their chests as he stared at Kirishima. “I mean uh…”

“You what?” he asked, petrified by the sudden rush of want coursing through him.

Kirishima buried his face in his hands and grumbled until Bakugo grabbed his mask to drag his gaze back. It didn't take long for Kirishima to break free and they scuffled again momentarily as Bakugo screamed, “JUST LOOK AT ME YOU FUCKER!” as Kirishima just let out a stream of increasingly incoherent protests and apologizes.


OH MY GOD WILL YOU SHUT UP!” Bakugo screamed back. “ JUST FUCKIN- -” he stopped, biting back the insults he wanted to spew. “Can you just chill the fuck out for one second?”

“You’re one to talk,” Kirishima muttered. Bakugo decided to ignore that this one time, in order to get the answers he wanted. Kirishima’s rant had been loud, and annoying, but also illuminating.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asked, more like demanded, and Kirishima shivered at the bluntness.

“Bakugo please can we just--”

I asked you a question so you’d better damn well answer it!”

After a moment’s hesitation, and another inhale Bakugo felt, Kirishima turned back to face him. His expression was serious, the kind of earnest determination that Bakugo admired about him. He’d never admired it in this sort of situation though.

“Yes,” he said simply.

The answer shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was, who didn’t want a piece of him? Bakugo felt a thrill creep up his spine regardless. “Is this why you wanted me to grope you up?”

“Uh yeah, kinda.”


Kirishima looked nervous as he said, “Well, I mean, that’s part of the reason. The other part is that I guess I’m really sensitive with these? Something just, I dunno, it’s something I didn’t want to deal with and I was curious to see if you…. were having this too… I guess.”

“So you got horny and wanted to see if I was too?”

Oh my god Bakugo,” Kirishima wheezed, but even though he seemed embarrassed, he had a grin on his face again. The sight reassured Bakugo that there he didn’t actually fear or hate him, he was just an idiot as per usual.

“Well, are you going to do something about it?” Bakugo asked bluntly. Kirishima stopped and turned his eyes back to him questioningly. “You got me horny, congrats. Are you going to do anything about it or did you not think this far through?”

At the admission, Kirishima looked floored. “ Oh, ” he whispered. Surprise surprise, he hasn’t thought far enough ahead to what would happen now. “ I uh- ” Guess he was going to have to take charge, not like he had any real problems with that. Saying he hadn’t thought about this thing in fleeting moments later a night or after a long day of training before he blasted it out of his head was a lie.

Bakugo scooted back from Kirishima’s stomach, adjust so that he was sitting on more of his lap atop the bit of Kirishima’s body that was still hardened, right over his dick. He settled in without hesitation, adjusting his own dick in his pants so that it was angled in a way he could rub them both together with a twist of his hips. He tested it, feeling both satisfaction and pleasure bloom.

Bakugo... ” Kirishima groaned, his hands coming back up to grab his legs tight. This time Bakugo didn’t stop them, not even blinking when they grabbed higher up on his thigh then he would ever consider letting anyone else; It was Kirishima after all.

“Don’t move and I swear if you’re loud and someone comes in, you’re the first one I’m murdering,” Bakugo growled, bending down onto his elbows around Kirishima’s body low enough that his nipples dragged against the rough skin. It shot sparks through him, only emboldening him to finish leaning down, take Kirishima’s breast in hand, and bite it.

Kirishima immediately bucked and Bakugo bit harder in retaliation, lifting his head to glare but Kirishima had thrown his head back, hand over his mouth. Guess he was listening to one thing he said at least.

He got back to work, exploring and tasting the skin in front of him. The skin that felt so good under his fingertips, felt even better on his tongue. It felt a little like he was licking sandpaper, but the fact it was also rubbing against his nipples lower down made it echo better through him.

The rain on his skin tasted sort of sour, like it was stale and had been sitting out in a dusty warehouse for a month. The imagery was vivid and gross. Bakugo wished he could taste Kirishima himself, what he would naturally taste like after jogging through the massive arena that was this training ground. He’d be sweating but even then he didn’t seem to sweat as much as everyone else, a dry side effect of his quirk? Or maybe everyone just sweated less than Bakugo because that’s literally all he seemed to do.

Bakugo had never wanted to taste him before, but now that he has his mouth on him, he was pretty sure he wanted to eat him up.

So he would.

He moved to the nipple closest, laving his tongue over it and Kirishima bucked under him again, a groan escaping him. That was a good reaction, and Bakugo did it again, and again, dragging his teeth lightly over it. Kirishima’s noises didn’t stop, growing louder and needier despite the hand muffling them.

Kirishima’s hand crept higher on his leg, and Bakugo scooted away from the hands without thinking about who was grabbing him or where he was; no one touches his ass like that. He couldn’t tell if the whine that resulted from the friction between them, or the fact he wasn’t allowed to grab Bakugo’s ass.

“You have to earn it,” Bakugo growled, crawling further up Kirishima’s body to loom above him.

Blinking at him, Kirishima dropped his hand from his mouth to ask, “How?” in the most wrecked voice Bakugo had ever heard from him, and he’d heard him speak in Unbreakable form. That was a huge turn on then, but hearing it now knowing he had done this to him, was even better.

Bakugo had to think, what would make the best reward system? In exchange for being allowed to touch his ass, what would he have to do?

The first and most immediate thought had him flinching, no, he couldn’t kiss him, kissing was for feelings . He did not have feelings for the redhead. If he kissed him now, Kirishima would start to expect things from him, and Bakugo didn’t have time to play the sappy nice guy to anyone, not even this sap.

Fuck that, he wants to fight.

He didn’t want this to get personal but the shining look in Kirishima’s eyes now, graced with the hope of literally touching him, he couldn’t help the swell of ego it caused inside. He wants to crush Kirishima and get that wrecked look back on him until he’s saying nothing but Bakugo’s name. He’d better not say anything stupid like…

Wait that’s perfect.

Bakugo scooted up more, lifting out of the immediate range of Kirishima’s dick so that he was now hovering, chest first, over Kirishima’s face. The boy underneath him looked hypnotized, following the sway of his breasts. “You’ve been so good so far, it’s time to stay quiet now,” he said with a smirk.

True to his word he didn’t give him a chance to say anything, and just bent down to cover Kirishima’s face in his boobs.

It immediately hurt.

The points of Kirishima’s mask pressed hard against the underside of the more tender skin and the zippers of his own damn suit cut into the sides. He yanked at his zipper, frustrated that the plan of looking cool and wrecking Kirishima even more had failed. A hand on his made him pause, before Kirishima’s grabbed the zipper to pull, and ripped the tab clean off the uniform with the force of it.

“What the fuck! DON’T BREAK MY SHIT!” Bakugo yelled, swatting at the side of Kirishima’s head but he wasn’t listening anymore, eyes intent and hungry on Bakugo’s exposed flesh. The hand on his thigh left and came up to join the other, grabbing at the sides of his jacket to grip and in one jerk, rip the entire front of his jacket in two.

Both of his breasts came free in a joyful bounce, but didn’t stay free for long, Bakugo immediately crashing down onto Kirishima again, shoving his left boob into Kirishima’s face angrily. Kirishima didn’t seem angry at all, his hands having pushed the jacket down Bakugo’s shoulders and abandoning said task midway to latch immediately to Bakugo’s ass.

Having his arms bound behind his back, Bakugo snarled, twisting to free himself. The action only drove the sharp edges into his skin harder, from multiple different directions. Without skipping a beat, Kirishima lifted his hips off the ground to support on his feet, thrusting them up to hit Bakugo’s backside.

“You needy fuck….” Bakugo said under his breath, and was surprised when Kirishima answered with a muffled moan. Once his mouth was open, and Bakugo’s nipple slid between his waiting lips, he suddenly realized why Kirishima wanted to do this so badly.

Skin on skin friction was good, but the hot wet heat of Kirishima’s mouth was even better.

Once Kirishima’s jagged teeth came into play, scraping up the sides Bakugo had to bite his own lip to keep from gasping out Kirishima’s name.

Fuck that was good.

With new determination, he abandoned his efforts to free his arms, and instead reached back to fumble for Kirishima’s dick through his pants. Once he got it, he squeezed, and Kirishima made another moan that echoed through his sensitive flesh from the mouth it was directly in.

Kirishima wrestled his face to the side to free his mouth and gasp, “ More,” before diving into Bakugo’s expanded cleavage and sucking hard into the side.

The grit the forceful suck into sharp teeth had Bakugo bucking his hips against the hard planes of Kirishima’s stomach. Even as it registered in his body that holy shit that felt good, looking down and watching Kirishima switch sides to bite into the other breast while a smear of Bakugo’s own blood decorated his cheek, had Bakugo pumping his hips harder.

“You sure are good at this,” Bakugo gasped out, his voice surprisingly steady. “Don’t tell me you’ve been sucking tits all the time?”

Rolling his eyes, Kirishima peeled his mouth back with a wet smack. “Don’t be jealous,” he said softly before taking the tip of Bakugo’s other nipple into his mouth, sucking lightly and prodding the tip with his tongue. Hie nerve endings sparked at the pressure and Bakugo scowled.

“I’m not jealous, just didn’t take you to be such a slut.”

Kirishima tried to grumble a protest but Bakugo forced his chest down again, teeth and metal digging into his breast which had him arching his back in the strange pleasure. It sent his butt pressing harder against Kirishima’s grip that pushed him back just as hard, driving Bakugo down with hardened fingers. They grew in sharpness as well, stinging lines of pleasure shooting through him.

Face planting into Kirishima’s hair, Bakugo let himself be manhandled into a rough rhythm. It had him finally losing composure and panting into Kirishima’s hair. Forehead against the red spikes, Bakugo gritted his teeth between harsh bites.

Was this something he was willing to do? Let Kirishima use him and fuck up into his ass with his dick and those sharp hard fingers of his? Or was he using him at all, because it sure felt like Kirishima was the one who was desperate, pressing him closer and closer to maintain every point of contact as his mouth slid in a drooling mess around the quirk monstrosities they were stuck with?

Stuck with.

They weren’t permanent, and neither was this situation. There was no point worrying about something that wouldn’t last outside of this warm rainy afternoon. Kirishima was going after his breasts like a man without water in a desert, that kind of thirst proved what a ladies man he was.

There was no way he wasn’t experienced with that tongue of his, and Bakugo felt a cold pit form under his collarbone.

This was just the afternoon and they wouldn’t have to think about it.

Bakugo had dropped his grip on Kirishima’s dick long back as the thrusting had inched him higher and he redoubled his efforts to free his arms. The back and forth motions had Kirishima groaning in his chest where he was being batted at by tits in his face. He grabbed the bottom of the jacket sleeve, and wiggled his arm up and out of the damn fabric. He rotated his shoulders and arms a few times, weirded out by the fact he could feel his breasts stretching like his pecs used to. It was good to know even his temporary tits were strong.

The jagged points of Kirishima’s fingers dug further, sharp and through the fabric that Bakugo grunted in surprise. Yet somehow, it still felt good. He knew he was going to have marks from this, physical memories of this quirk battle that had less to do with fighting and more with passion. He guessed it was close enough, and reached down to fumble at Kirishima’s breasts underneath.

The brush of his fingers had Kirishima reacting, even if at this point he hadn’t stopped making audible noises of pleasure for minutes on end, and bucking up into Bakugo. He searched around with the forceful movement of their bodies until he grabbed one and then both of Kirishima’s nipples in hand and pinched.

A harsh wail escaped Kirishima’s throat as one of his hands slammed itself into the back of Bakugo’s head, pulling and scratching at the back of his head possessively. In spite, Bakugo bit at what he could reach best, Kirishima’s ear, and every time he was yanked back he just tightened his teeth harder.

This did not discourage Kirishima somehow, who continued to grapple for hold on Bakugo who fought back the best he could, twisting Kirishima’s nipple, biting at Kirishima’s hair spikes, and raking his nails down Kirishima’s unhardened skin. It hardened too late, the raised edges of torn skin marking him before, in turn, Bakugo’s nail bed screeched against stone.

They continued, winding close and closer together, rising higher in their fight to be on top and crest over into the sweet release they were chasing.

Bakugo feverently blamed it on Kirishima, absolutely, but the fact remained it was he who was grinding his weeping dick onto Kirishima’s bare skin, and not Kirishima making him.

He could feel his orgasm approaching and the coils inside his gut were winding tight and tighter, whiting out the corners of his vision as he panted harshly into Kirishima’s hair. It approached, brighter and brighter until Bakugo thought he was on fire.

There was a loud crunching screech from outside.

Both of them reacted immediately, Kirishima near throwing Bakugo off of him as they scanned the room for danger. There was none that they could see from their tangled position on the floor.

Then Bakugo realized, blinking owlishly, that they could see the room entirely, and not by the dim light of the fire. The lights were on and coming through the shattered windows of the building they had taken cover in.

The noise continued until it settled into the lesser sound of static feedback. Then the voice of Aizawa came over the speakers.

“We managed to stop the rain and bring up the backup generators. Get to the base camp all of you, class and volunteers, and don’t you dare complain.”

He cut off just as quickly as he came on, leaving them in a terse silence.

“Aizawa always has the worst timing doesn’t he?” Kirishima remarked lightly, his voice sounding fucked out, hoarse and deep from all from all of the moaning he did.

In the artificial light of day, Bakugo could really see how red Kirishima’s face had become, spreading from the roots of his hair down his neck and into his collarbones. He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen him so red before in his life as he lay debauched against the stone floor, huge breasts pillowing over him down his ribs.

It only made his desire to punch his teacher for the interruption even more.

“What did you expect?” he ended up spitting out.

“Well, I was kind of hoping to come but I guess that can wait till later,” Kirishima said matter of fact. The casual statement was ruined by the fact he couldn't make eye contact with Bakugo at all.

“Later?” Bakugo asked, looking over the two of them. “I doubt these will last long enough till the end of class.”

Kirishima’s expression faltered. “Recovery Girl can probably fix us up right quick I uh… was kind of hoping that we could continue… without them?” He snuck a peek up at Bakugo who was staring down at him.

Not staring, Bakugo was definitely glaring at him. “Without them? This was all your idea because of them!”

“Well, I mean, it made for a good start but I liked your chest from before too,” he said earnestly.

He what.

Bakugo grabbed to frame of his headgear and yanked his face around. “ You what?”

He panicked at the sudden and violent confrontation. “Dude I said it earlier, you’re hot and with this,” he gestured at Bakugo’s chest, biting his lip at the swollen breasts covered in his teeth marks. “It’s just…” he inhales deeply. “So hot.”

The admission has warmth crackling in his gut and he bit his lip in return. What an idiot. He pushed his head away and it clunked harmlessly off the ground. “Whatever,” Bakugo grumbled, and got to his feet.

There was no use trying to hide anything, anyone with eyes would be able to see the tent in his pants, and thanks to Kirishima’s ridiculous strength, his new jacket was torn in half. He took what remained off of the arm it still clung to, and tied the sleeves around his waist. He took a shuddering breath and ignored the emotions rising in his chest.

Kirishima got up and said nothing, staying a few feet away from Bakugo. After some minor readjusting, facing away from each other, the two headed out and back to base camp without exchanging another glance.

They didn’t exchange a single word either until they could hear the chatter their class was making once they approached. It occurred to Bakugo that they were about to strut into camp, tits out in the open. He felt a surge of anger, and grabbed Kirishima's elbow in front of him, and yanked him to the side.

“Here,” he grunted, and ripped off his jacket from his waist, and threw it over Kirishima’s head. Baffled, he removed it, and looked back at Bakugo with big confused eyes. Fuck.


Don’t be stupid just put it on ,” Bakugo hissed.

Kirishima didn’t seem to grasp his sense of urgency, grabbing the jacket and only holding it at his side instead of the expanse of exposed skin like clothes were supposed to. “Why though? It’s ripped, I can’t fit into it.” Bakugo was going to murder this idiot.


He had the decency to look embarrassed at least. “I keep telling you they’re just boobs it doesn’t matt--”

Bakugo stopped him with a harsh jab to the collarbone. “Shut up, just shut up,” he snapped. He came in closer, crowding Kirishima against the rubble threateningly. His voice dropped to a whisper amongst the noise in the background. “You said we aren't done right? Yeah?”

“Yeah?” Kirishima repeated, still looking confused.

“Then these are mine, no one else gets to look at them,” Bakugo said harshly, grabbing one of Kirishima’s breasts in one hand.

He watched as understanding dawned across Kirishima’s face, turning him red again. “Okay,” he said softly. Satisfied, Bakugo pulled back and watched as Kirishima pulled up the jacket and flattened it to cross his arms under his chest. He kept looking shyly between his chest, Bakugo, then down to Bakugo’s hand.

It did little to cover him because now it looked even more suggestive. Bakugo found himself realizing how he must have looked in the jacket earlier, and found himself cursing that he didn’t use that image to his advantage.

It’s not like he had planned on ravishing Kirishima.

At least he hadn’t at the beginning.

Spinning his heel, he stomped away from those thoughts again, and made his way into camp, Kirishima following silently. From what he could see, many of his classmates were also sporting pairs of breasts, some out, some hidden. All of the girls had parkas on over where theirs seemed to have grown, no doubt courtesy of Yaoyorozu, who was swamped in her own and beet red.

As soon as they reached any of their classmates, the conversation taped off to stare at the approaching duo.

“What?” snarled Bakugo when they were close enough.

Kaminari with a small chest of his very own burst out into laughter, which many people followed. Uraraka sprayed her drink all over Iida’s glasses, to which he commented furiously about how they had finally gotten dry. “Dude it looks like you got attacked by a cat!” he said, gasping for air.

“A what?” Kirishima asked back, his smile coming back in the face of such enthusiastic braying laughter. Either that or he was about to join in, Bakugo wasn’t honestly sure what was happening anymore as they stopped side by side in front of the group.

“Bakugo, my man, my dude, have you looked at yourself lately? You’ve got all these scratches and… bite…. marks….” Kaminari trailed off as he looked closer.


“Bite marks what?” Mina said, pushing her way over to apparently join the viewing party of Bakugo’s boobs. As soon as she got there she gasped in excitement. “ Oh my gosh you’re right ABOUT TIME!”

“About time for what?!” Bakugo shouted.

This naturally drew even more people over which was fraying Bakugo’s already short temper. They either laughed, or slapped Kirishima on the back, congratulating him while he started to glow like a red stoplight.

“ABOUT TIME!” Mina shrieked, no help at all. She tossed her arms in the air and the whole parka jiggled, causing her to wince and stop moving around as much.

“Oh my,” was Yaoyorozu’s only comment, eyes wide.

This was followed by:

“NICE JOB!” from Sero.

A wolf whistle from Jirou.

Various embarrassed mumbles from the extras from the back of the class.

A rather unnerving wink from Aoyama.

Instead of listening to their bullshit, Bakugo turned straight around and headed for the pop-up tent in the back where Midnight and Recovery Girl had extra blankets and the water bottles from earlier. He snatched one of both, and wrapped himself tight, ignoring the creepy eye he got from Midnight, and sulked off into a corner.

He hated their class.

Inevitably, his eyes were drawn back to Kirishima encircled by their noisy giggling classmates. After a moment, their eyes met. Kirishima beamed back at him, his expression so warm that Bakugo had to tug the towel over his head to escape from the warmth.

Okay, so maybe he didn’t hate all of them.