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Kirishima never meant to get obsessed. It wasn’t in his nature to fall head over heels so fast, let alone fall at all. Everyone knew how the beta was; he’d never shown interest in a relationship before. Not that Kirishima believed he couldn’t like someone, he just… didn’t feel that attraction. Didn’t understand what was so excitable about sweet scents and meek personalities of omegas.
Never bothered with an alpha either, especially when they all seemed to prefer sweet and perfect omegas. Sure, other betas were an option, but Kirishima never felt that connection. Why push something that didn’t ignite that spark to begin with?
Strippers were usually more daring or desperate omegas. The clubs filled with sweet scents and howling alphas and betas trying to make a pass on the workers. At least that’s how Kirishima’s friends described it. For the most part, that was turning out to be true.
The first time he’d been dragged to the club by his friends; Kaminari, Sero, and Ashido had hounded him into drinking alongside them and ogle some omegas on display.
Kirishima had been into his third drink to humour his friends when the music changed. When Kirishima had realised he was completely and utterly screwed.
The lights had dimmed for a beat, music blaring with a deep thrum before a new stripper had taken stage. He was in every shape and form perfection. Toned skin and bulging muscles barely contained under a tightly stretched black tank top. His chest was thick, pecs full with the line of his top digging in, giving the impression it was seconds away from tearing. Hell, Kirishima quietly wished it would.
His pants were tight, dark blue and designed to imitate jeans. From afar, they damn well did the trick, especially in the darker lighting. Closer though, the material seemed smoother. Weaker. Not that Kirishima cared about the quality of pants when he was so enthralled with who was in them.
When the hell had he come closer? One second he was sitting at the tables at the back, and the next Kirishima was pressed against the side of the catwalk amongst hooting alphas.
The guy looked like an angel, ironic really when the lights shifted to a crimson red and bathed the stripper in its sinful colour, like there was something tainted and evil. Blond hair caught the lights in an unholy halo, eyes ruby red and sharp. Cruel. Confidence radiated from him naturally in a way the others couldn’t quite reach.
The scent of burnt caramel overwhelmed Kirishima, drowning out the mixed scents of patrons and arousal. There was something under it he couldn’t quite catch, something faint that made his nose twitch and burn if he focused too hard.
Then the stripper started his dance, a wild smile and challenging eyes that never lingered too long. That didn’t so much as pay Kirishima the light of day. Kirishima would do anything to have those vibrant eyes catch his own. They were framed in dark lines, eyeliner sharp and pointed catlike at the edges. Eyelashes stark against a dark red eyeshadow.
Vaguely Kirishima was aware his friends had joined him, shoving at his shoulders and mocking him. Kirishima couldn’t shake himself from it though. Not when the stripper hooked his thumbs under the hem of his top, drawing it up as he rolled his body. His eyes were vile and filthy, lips curled back into an obscene smile. A tongue poked out, running across pearly whites and catching on the corner. He was an angel in all his cruel and powerful glory.
When he pulled the top off, he’d tossed it into the crowd, sailing too high over Kirishima’s head. He’d tried to reach, inwardly hissing when he barely felt it graze his fingertips. Someone else further back had caught it, the crowd howling and hooting in encouragement. Kirishima knew it had to be dripping with more of that hidden scent and, for once in his life, Kirishima knew what the primal possessiveness of an alpha felt like.
The stripper demanded his attention though and Kirishima was too smitten to care too long.
The man put on a show, rocking his hips and folding to the music. His skin was taut over rippling muscle, sweat glazing his skin in a beautiful shine. The man was flexible, Kirishima noted, insanely so. His grin was wild and free in a way that betrayed him. Showed just how excited he was to be the centre of attention. How much of a thrill it was. Kirishima wasn’t even the slightest bit surprised when the dancer flipped off the crowd, lips peeled back in a sneer that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
The pants were the next to go, the stripper’s fingers hooking under the tight material of his fake jeans, pulling and tearing it in one go. So that was why it looked so flimsy. Kirishima was totally not complaining.
The dance lasted a full five minutes, and all the while the stranger’s eyes barely grazed past Kirishima. Never focused and acknowledged.
The same happened the second night. Kirishima had come alone this time, too embarrassed by his friends’ taunts to go with them. Besides, this felt too… intimate to share with the others.
Logically, he knew damn well that was stupid to think. This guy, he probably didn’t know Kirishima existed. Even if he did, he was nothing more than another drooling fan. Hell, Kirishima couldn’t argue it, because he was sure he had drooled at some point. Besides, everyone was probably just as enchanted by the dancer. Who in their right mind wouldn’t be? The blond deserved all the attention and praise in the world.
Still, a selfish part of him wanted to be the only one. The only one the stranger would look at.
Right now? Kirishima couldn’t even be one of a thousand. He’d tried catching the man’s attention with money, but honestly he didn’t have much to offer. Especially not enough when everyone else was willing to throw their savings away.
Kirishima tried, but he could never catch the attention of those cruel eyes.
It wasn’t until his sixth trip that the man seemed to notice him. It was a brief moment, eyes scanning the crowd before they faltered on Kirishima. The beta was sure the man could hear Kirishima’s heart race because a moment later the dancer was grinning. Smug. He was proud he’d caught someone in his trap.
Kirishima could swear he melted there and then.
Every night then on, the dancer seemed to scan the crowds until he picked him out. Honestly, Kirishima had shown up every day for two weeks before figuring out just what nights the man worked.
Was he happy to see Kirishima so devoted? Was it creepy? Honestly, Kirishima was nervous. Like showing up once too much would get him thrown out on his ass.
So when he was leaving after a month of showing up to every show, Kirishima damn near jumped out of his skin when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. When he was forcibly turned around Kirishima came face to chest with a massive guy in dark clothes. He recognised the man instantly. His permanent scowl often poised at the front door watching for the first signs of riff raff. He was a bouncer, and a terrifying one at that.
“Ahh, I-”
“You’re wanted out back.” Not giving Kirishima time to speak out, the burly man shoved him back, all but pushing Kirishima towards the guarded staff door. This was it. This was how he was going to fucking die. He’d shown up too often. Didn’t spend nearly enough. He was going to die in some shady strip joint because he didn’t know how to do things in moderations.
Gnawing at his bottom lip nervously, he winced when he pricked himself on sharpened teeth. Okay, maybe death was a little extreme, but how could he not be nervous?
If he was panicking before, he was absolutely freaking out when he was shoved into a changing room and caught by the eyes of his interest.
What was once alluring ruby red eyes was replaced with bloodied crimson, fixed and heinous. He was no longer the dancer seducing a crowd. He was a man who looked ready to tear someone’s throat out.
And somehow that only made him that much more attractive.
The stripper, because damn it he still never managed to find out his name, was in the middle of wiping away layers of makeup. Smudging around his eyes with dark rings as he cleaned himself off. His back was to Kirishima, sweat beating down taut muscles. Still, his eyes were fixated on Kirishima through the glass of his mirror, and he couldn’t help but feel he’d just been thrown into the lion’s den.
The door slammed behind him jolting Kirishima out of his thoughts. Somehow he couldn’t shift his eyes from the beautiful man. While he knew it wasn’t logical, that anxious fear in him insisted that turning his back now was an invitation for the man to attack.
“Uhh… hey?” Stupid. Stupid! Stupid! His first words to the potential love of his life, and he stumbles like a complete moron! He was thankful he never told the others about his little crush because they’d never let him live it down.
The blond didn’t seem all that impressed either. Scrunching up his face, the man snorted unkindly before giving a Kirishima a very pointed once over. Seemingly judging what he saw poorly, his attention went straight back to removing the makeup. One wrong word and suddenly Kirishima felt he’d messed up his chances. Harsh.
“Am I- Uhh- The guy didn’t really tell me why I’m here,” Kirishima offered, desperate for a topic to save the conversation and an explanation.
“You’re here because you’re a fucking creep,” the man spat back, lips curled in an ugly sneer. Ouch.
“What did I do?” Kirishima may have been infatuated but that wasn’t going to stop him from feeling offended and defending himself. Okay, maybe he was getting a touch obsessive, but he wasn’t hurting anyone.
Setting down his wipes on the bench, the blond stood up and kicked his chair back with a disturbing screech before he was crossing the room. In the heels the guy had been stripping in so confidently not all that long ago, he had an inch over Kirishima. This guy was absolutely intimidating, but wasn’t that exactly what had drawn Kirishima in at the first place?
He’d been enthralled by the stripper’s confidence and near distaste for his own fans. Now that it was clear it wasn’t an act, it really didn’t do anything to Kirishima’s not so little crush. Pushing Kirishima against the door and snarling in his face didn’t hurt either.
The blond looked pissed as all hell and Kirishima had to bite his bottom lip harder to keep himself from smiling. This guy probably saw a smile as an insult. He couldn’t help it though, Kirishima had been begging to get this close.
So strong. So confident. So manly. Kirishima pressed his fingers against the wood of the door, but he was far from looking for an exit. His fight or flight was failing miserably in the face of the gorgeous and utterly pissed dancer.
“You’ve been to every single one of my shows. You don’t show up unless I’m here-”
“How do you know tha-”
“I know how to talk to my fucking coworkers, asshole. Shut up. Don’t interrupt me.”
The man shoved at Kirishima’s chest making the door rattle. Kirishima was disappointed the contact ended so quickly. He’d never had a desire to be pinned down before and maybe that should have given him a moment of pause, but why should he question it?
“You’ve asked about me. You’ve fucking stalked me.”
“I mean, I haven’t seen you outside your job-”
“The fuck did I just say?!”
Offering a sheepish smile, Kirishima ducked his head in apology. As far as he was concerned this guy was blowing it out of proportion, but he couldn’t blame him for his concern. Yeah, okay, maybe his behaviour was a little excessive. He’d let the man have his rant. It was probably the least he could do.
“I’ve had plenty of admirers before but fuck you just take the cake, don’t you?” There was a brief pause, a heavy silence hanging over them, and Kirishima swore he could see a vein throb against the beautiful man’s temple. “Well?!”
“Oh!” Straightening up, Kirishima fumbled for a moment. “S-sorry! You said not to interrupt sooo…”
“You think you’re fucking funny, huh?”
Reaching up, Kirishima’s pointer finger scratched his jaw nervously. No matter what he said it was always going to be wrong, wasn’t it? “No, dude, I’m sorry! I don’t mean to disrespect. And I’m sorry I acted so creepy! I didn’t think you even really noticed me much so I didn’t think-”
“Yeah you didn’t fucking think. Hard not to notice a freak drooling on the front of the stage and shoving one dollar bills under my belt.”
“Oh…” Okay, yeah, that was majorly embarrassing. “Sorry, it was all I could really afford.”
“Not the Goddamn point.”
“Okay okay, I’m sorry.” Raising his hands in what he hoped was a sign of peace, he offered the other a lopsided smile. It wilted under the man’s intense stare but he didn’t let up. He needed to explain. “I’m sorry, I just- I came here at first with some friends. This isn’t usually my place-”
“That was pretty fucking obvious-”
“My point is-” Kirishima pressed, trying to stop the other before he went on another insulting tangent. “I saw you and… I don’t know. You looked and smelt so good and I just had to see you again. I didn’t mean to take it so far. I thought it would be fine. I mean, a lot of people come regularly, but I guess I got a little obsessive, huh?”
“Yeah, you did,” he agreed, scowl still holding strong. The edge of his glare was gone, though there was a level of scepticism.
“I’m sorry, I just- You’re perfect.” That was so not what he meant to say. Being this close to the object of his affection was obviously screwing with his flow of thought. Sure, it was what he was thinking, but he was trying to come off as less creepy. “I just- I mean- You-”
“That’s it, huh creep?” Shoving his forearm against Kirishima’s collarbone, the stripper pinned him against the door. “Looking for some perfect little omega to get your rocks off to, isn’t that it?”
“I-” Brows creased, Kirishima paused to stare at the other in clear confusion. “What?”
“Your kind isn’t slick.”
“Okay, you have… totally lost me.”
The blond scoffed, red eyes narrowed in frustration before a wicked grin split across his face again. “You’re a dense motherfucker, aren’t ya?”
“Dude, I-” Pausing, Kirishima’s body slackened against the wood door, pupils dilated as a new scent washed over him. That sweet caramel lulled him, nostrils flaring as he breathed in a deep breath. The moment he did it felt like his chest was on fire. That subtle scent he couldn’t quite pinpoint before was so much stronger. It drowned out the sweet caramel and burned the deeper Kirishima breathed in. His nose twitched, mouth open and sucking in a sharp breath. He swear he could taste it on his tongue. The taste of spice.
“You’re-”
“An alpha.” The way the man said it was so satisfied. Like he’d won whatever battle he believed they were in. “So scram.”
Shoving Kirishima again for good measure, the alpha stepped back, his intoxicating and overbearing scent still flooding the room. He turned away heading back to his desk like he legitimately expected Kirishima to leave.
“You can control your scent?” His words made the blond pause, another scathing look thrown over his shoulder. “That’s so cool! I mean, I know that it’s normal to like… influxicate it, but you can pick and choose which scent to give off! All I can smell when you’re on stage is caramel!”
“That’s because no one’s here for a fucking alpha, moron. What’s your point?”
“That’s just… so cool and manly. You had to have worked hard to learn how to do that!” Stepping forward in his eager excitement, it flickered and faltered when the alpha hunched up, lips peeled back in a threatening growl. Swallowing, Kirishima rooted his feet in place. Right, the guy was still annoyed about… Well, Kirishima wasn’t sure anymore.
“What the hell are you on about?” Turning around properly, the blond’s brows pinched in bewilderment. There was a crease between perfect eyebrows and Kirishima wanted to poke at it. Twisting his fingers together behind his back, he decided that was probably not wise. “I’m not an omega so get the hell out of here. You can’t play alpha with me, weak little beta bitch.”
“Hey!” Maybe he deserved the creep claims, but that was just unfair. Scowling, Kirishima strode forward, ignoring the way the other sneered this time. “What’s your problem, dude? I’m not trying to ‘play alpha’, what the hell?”
“Right, like you didn’t think you were drooling over some omega out there. You said it yourself, you were attracted to my scent, like the rest of your kind always are.” The guy spoke with a roll of his eyes. It was clear this wasn’t the first time.
Alpha strippers weren’t unheard of, but they were extremely rare. Omega’s usually didn’t visit these places. Too populated by rowdy alphas looking to satisfy indulges. Hell, Kirishima was a beta and it was still overwhelming to him. But…
“I didn’t really think about it.” Which was weird now that he thought back on it. All this time he’d been obsessing, he hadn’t even questioned what the stripper was. Probably because- “It didn’t matter to me.”
The other scoffed, lip quirked in a half-sneer, though it didn’t quite hit. He looked lost. Like everything wasn’t working out the way he planned. “The fuck does that mean?”
“I mean-” Reaching up, Kirishima rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes falling as he tired to explain himself. “I didn’t think about your gender. You were just so confident and strong. I just… love manly people.”
There was a moment of pause, his eyes flicking back up to note the stripper staring at him. His face had dropped, eyes wide as the silence turned uncomfortable. Before Kirishima could try to fill it, the other barked a sharp laugh.
“The fuck?” His lips were curled in an amused smile, but his eyes were still as lost as ever. Like what Kirishima was saying was so unbelievable. “I’m ’manly’,” he teased, “when I’m shaking my ass one stage in heels and fucking mascara?”
Kirishima blinked, eyes wide and innocent before he perked up. “That’s not what ‘manly’ means to me, man. You’re confident! You’re so fearless! Kind of a dick…” Kirishima trailed the last part, a smile twitching on his face glad when that didn’t seem to piss the other off. “You’re so strong and that’s so hot! And you’re doing way more than shaking your ass, dude.”
The blond stared for awhile, eyes scrutinising the other and considering his words. His original amusement fell, giving way for deep thought. Kirishima shifted under the gaze but he didn’t let his eyes fall this time. After a moment, the stripper grunted in what Kirishima assumed was acceptance, before he turned again.
“Fine, whatever. You can go now.”
Freezing up, Kirishima watched the other sit down and continue cleaning up. “Am I… banned from your shows?”
The blond paused for a brief moment before continuing. “No.”
Instant relief flooded over him, easing the tension in his shoulders. Pushing his luck, Kirishima tilted his head a little. “Can I know your name?”
There was a slight growl at that and Kirishima laughed it off, stepping back to grab at the door handle. “It was worth a shot,” he brushed off, opening the door to leave.
“Bakugou.” Kirishima froze again, eyes wide and attentive. “Katsuki.”
“Bakugou Katsuki…” Kirishima mirrored to himself, keeping the name to memory. “I’m, uh, Kirishima Eijirou!”
“I don’t care.”
Laughing louder, Kirishima stepped out the strippers door, grinning in utter glee. “Still worth a shot!”
---
After that, Kirishima never seemed to have a problem with Bakugou or their watchful security. He’d shown up the next routine like clockwork, the time after that too. He wasn’t bothered by any bouncers and he could almost swear Bakugou’s eyes sought him out. Like it would be an insult to not show up. That was probably absurd, Kirishima brushed off, just a case of wishful thinking. But God he wanted to believe.
After showing up for four shifts straight Kirishima decided to give it a break. After all, he didn’t particularly want to be dragged back for ‘creepy behaviour’. No sense in pushing his luck. So when he actually showed for the next, he was a little proud to see Bakugou looked livid.
He’d caught sight of Kirishima instantly, scowling and offering a one fingered greet. Kirishima took it in stride, grinning in glee knowing Bakugou was paying attention to him in the crowds.
The crowds didn’t think much of it, after all his defiant and rude nature was the selling point of his performances. Knowing what he knew now though, he picked up on the comments others made. The wolf whistles followed by flirty comments. It suddenly made sense why Bakugou had assumed so much of him. If he paid it too much mind it got obnoxious. It was hard to do that though when Bakugou was peeling back a too small jacket, muscles rolling as that controlled sweet scent sent everyone into an uproar.
At least Bakugou seemed to take pride in it, so long as no one tried to get too handsy.
After that, Kirishima didn’t bother skipping a day. Clearly Bakugou took it as a personal insult. It was routine at this point, and Kirishima could swear the stripper got more and more flirty with each encounter. Lingering stares, crooked grins, and very pointed stripping. Bakugou had thrown his clothes Kirishima’s direction a fair few times at this point. The others still fought amongst themselves but Kirishima didn’t care that much. Not when Bakugou was staring him down and enticing him with curling fingers and licks over his teeth.
The scent of caramel was good, but the just barely there spice drove him mad.
They spoke a few times after. Kirishima always offering to buy a drink after a shift and frowning when Bakugou refused to accept.
Little chats at the bar about home life and what he did. Why Bakugou got into stripping. Sometimes the conversations were simple, though Kirishima enjoyed them immensely. Unlike most, he got to know more of Bakugou, who he was when he wasn’t on stage. It was funny really because he wasn’t all that different. Up there, he was still very much the same person, he just had a platform and a crowd to blast it at. There were other sides though, softer and more thoughtful. Kirishima loved all of it between the sass and the sombre.
Then other times their conversations weren’t so casual. Crude remarks could slip in easily from that, sure, and Bakugou did it so well. The brash and confident nature always catching Kirishima off guard. Whispered words, ghost touches, and wild grins always had Kirishima feeling like putty. He was much more open about sexual matters, quizzing Kirishima about things he liked. Whether it was to get a rise out of him or genuine curiosity was up in the air. Kirishima suspected both.
Bakugou seemed intent on picking Kirishima apart and figuring out just what made the man tick. Kirishima was honest and, with those eyes studying him so closely, it was easy to fold and divulge all his secrets. A couple conversations was all it took for Bakugou to find out all his hidden little kinks. Some Kirishima didn’t even know he had until Bakugou dug a little deeper.
How the hell was Kirishima suppose to know he’d tied up and gagged, utterly helpless to some big bad alpha? He’d never considered it until Bakugou was selling it with that cruel and taunting voice of his.
It was nice though, the special treatment always left Kirishima giddy. Considering he’d been petrified he fucked up immensely before, he was thrilled with the direction it took. The air had certainly cleared between them.
It was nearly a month since their confrontation backstage before Bakugou decided to accelerate it much further, but he always did things in the extremes.
Kirishima had ordered Bakugou a drink, but the stripper had barely touched it. He wasn’t going to push it. So long as he was in the stripper’s company, he didn’t care if the drink went to waste. It was nothing to him besides a reason to chat anyway. Still, when Bakugou had gotten up suddenly and slung his jacket over his shoulder, Kirishima fretted. Did he do something wrong?
Peering up at Bakugou with wide and uncertain eyes, he caught Bakugou’s gaze before the other scoffed and rolled his eyes in turn. He probably looked like a kicked dog but it made Bakugou flicker a brief smile. It was cute when he tried to deny it… Cuter when he accepted it and broke into a real grin.
“Come on. You’re walking me home.”
Kirishima almost fell out of his chair trying to scamper out of it.
Home? That was new and totally exciting. It implicated things he wasn’t sure he was allowed to expect. Then again, Bakugou never needed someone to walk him home before. Violently denied it, actually.
Once they were in the open air and away from the buzz and noise of the strip club, his defences went down. The burning sensation of spice returned, heating Kirishima from the inside out. It left him feeling rejuvenated and suddenly he was painfully aware of how much he missed it. It was a shame that Bakugou hid his more dominant scents, even if he did understand it. There was something subtle and metallic too, like gunpowder.
Kirishima could have spent hours trying to dissect Bakugou’s scents and put a name to every slight difference he discovered. He doubted he had that much time to work with.
Falling into step beside the man, Kirishima anxiously glanced between the other from the corner of his eye, to the streets ahead. He was mentally mapping the path, just in case… In case Bakugou ever invited him over again.
Bakugou was silent, eyes set forward, hands shoved deep in his pockets. While Kirishima was jittering, Bakugou looked confident as ever. It was admirable but Kirishima still wanted to know what was on his mind.
Stepping closer, Kirishima playfully nudged Bakugou’s side with his hand, arms rubbing together. Bakugou’s head shot to the side, frowning at Kirishima’s wide grin before he huffed. Bakugou faced forward again and Kirishima watched a wisp of air trail from between his lips. Clearly he was too fixated on Bakugou’s mouth because Kirishima damn near jumped out of his skin when Bakugou took his hand.
“Sap,” Bakugou scoffed, holding Kirishima in a tight grip and dragging him faster down the streets. Kirishima was too thrilled to try and explain that wasn’t what he was going for, not that he was complaining in the slightest.
Tightening his grip in return, the two walked briskly through the winter night.
Neither spoke past that. Kirishima partly because he was afraid of messing up whatever this was; worried that he’d somehow say the wrong thing and make Bakugou ditch him. Bakugou himself seemed far too fixated on getting out of the cold. He was warm, Kirishima noted, overly so. Heat radiated from him like a bonfire, a flame flickering under his skin.
Before Kirishima could do anything about it, offer some form of heat, Bakugou was dragging him down a pathway to a nice little home. It wasn’t anything special though it was much more than some dingy apartment building. The front yard was small but there were rows of potted plants. Tugged along past them, Kirishima noted the scent of all of them, inhaling deep to soak in the different herbs and spices.
Bakugou dropped his hand to fish around for a key and Kirishima took the moment to inspect them all. In their chats, Bakugou had mentioned he enjoyed cooking, and Kirishima had been delighted to learn such small details. Bakugou grew his own herbs, and it looked like he took great care of them! There were even a few chilis growing, some stripped bare, probably already used he assumed.
“Oi, Shitty hair?”
Head perking up, Kirishima’s brows creased as he pouted, personally offended by the comment.
Bakugou just snickered, already inside and flicking on a light as he spoke. “You coming in or what?”
Kirishima’s heart leapt to his throat at the offer but he couldn’t help but tease. “I thought I was just walking you home?”
Bakugou stared deadpan for a moment, face completely neutral before he started to close the door.
Jolting forward, Kirishima jammed a foot between the door and the frame, fingers curled around the wood of the door as he poked his face between them. “Oh, come on! I was joking! Come on, Blasty! Let me in.” Pouting playfully between the crack, Kirishima starred up as Bakugou’s hard eyes. He didn’t budge and after a moment Kirishima had to add; “please?”
Bakugou’s warm hand gripped the top of Kirishima’s, the door jerking open as Bakugou forcefully pulled him inside. Kirishima stumbled, half crashing against the man as the door slammed shut behind him.
Before Kirishima could really recover, Bakugou’s nose was nudging along his collar, taking in the beta’s scent. “You should beg me more.”
In all their close encounters, they never really got this close. Little flirtatious touches always initiated by Bakugou himself, but this was a whole new level. At first, Kirishima wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. This is what he thought might come from Bakugou’s offer to ‘walk him home’, but it was still so surreal. He could look all he liked, but he wasn’t allowed to touch the dancer.
Demanding hands gripped his hips, a thigh suddenly wedged between Kirishima’s legs and grinding along his swelling cock. Well he couldn’t very well ignore that.
Maybe Kirishima was a bit of a sap but his first reaction when his crush shamelessly ground against him was to grab Bakugou’s face and pull him up for a kiss.
There was an instant fire between them. Bakugou fuelling him like gasoline and Kirishima lighting the match. He was hot, the scent of spice overwhelming as Bakugou bit at his bottom lip. His teeth were dull in comparison, but that only meant he could bite down harder without drawing blood. Swiping his tongue along Kirishima’s swollen lip, Bakugou growled deep and low as he brushed against oddly sharp teeth. It was a noise that damn near made Kirishima’s knees buckle under him, and he whined as the blond pulled away.
“God, these are fucking freaky,” Bakugou hissed, a hand moving from Kirishima’s hips and shoving between his lips before he could argue. Opening his mouth, Kirishima’s arms moved down to wrap around Bakugou’s neck, eyes crinkled in amusement at Bakugou’s interest.
Smooth fingers were tracing along the jagged ends of Kirishima’s teeth, pressing down to test them. Drool was pooling under his tongue, jaw hitched open as Bakugou’s fingers flicked over his tongue. Kirishima licked back, flicking between digits and coating them in saliva.
Closing his mouth, Kirishima wrapped his lips around Bakugou’s fingers as he lewdly suckled against them, eyes never shifting from Bakugou’s. The stripper raised a brow in response, his attention flickering between Kirishima’s eyes and down to the mouth eagerly sucking at his fingers. Testing Kirishima, Bakugou pressed the pads of his fingers against the back of Kirishima’s tongue. It earned a slight gag but it was quickly replaced with a moan.
Satisfied, Bakugou pulled his fingers out from between warm lips, a line of saliva stretching after them before snapping.
“Fuckin’ gross too.”
Chuckling, Kirishima lent in again only to be forced to a halt when Bakugou grabbed his face.
“Eager one, aren’t ya?” When Kirishima complained with a whimper Bakugou only barked back a laugh in reply, cruel as ever. “Needy fucker too. Quit whining, I’m not going to leave you hanging.”
A hand slapped against Kirishima’s backside. Cushioned by his pants it didn’t exactly hurt, but the surprise made Kirishima jut forward and grind against Bakugou’s leg. Sucking in a sharp breath at the sensation, Kirishima lent hard into Bakugou’s hand. Nuzzled it.
Chucking again, Bakugou let him go and slipped his leg out from between Kirishima’s. Watching Bakugou’s movements intently, he shivered as he felt smooth fingers trace down along his arm before catching his wrist. Following Bakugou obediently, he was led down the hall of the home and towards what he could only assume was Bakugou’s bedroom.
Was it still wishful thinking at this point; believing that was where they were going to end up? It was kind of hard to misinterpret Bakugou’s intentions at this point.
When they got to the door, Kirishima nearly crashed into Bakugou’s back when he stopped. Fumbling, he watched in interest as Bakugou braced on his back leg before tensing when Bakugou kicked it open. The latch was weak, snapping open with little protest, and Kirishima watched bewildered. Well… he did want to know what Bakugou was like in the privacy of his own home.
Flicking the light on, Bakugou’s tugged Kirishima inside, and his eyes raced around the room eagerly.
The bed was massive, a queen size with dark sheets. The room was fairly neat, shelves lined with a nice mixture of books and comic books. There were a few action figures set on a desk still packaged and clearly cared for. A few more plants were nestled in the room, cacti and venus fly traps. Something about that made Kirishima grin. He doubted many were allowed to see this room.
“Take your shoes off and lay down.”
Startled, Kirishima stared down suddenly mortified. He’d been so caught up in Bakugou’s actions he hadn’t had time to take them off.
“Ahh, dude! Shit, I’m sorry!”
“I don’t care. Just get them off already.”
Sitting down at the bottom of the bed, Kirishima made quick but awkward work on his shoes and socks, eyes flicking up to watch Bakugou. Unlike the heels Bakugou danced around in so confidently, he was in a heavy set pair of boots. So he really didn’t care for common house manners? Or had he just distracted Bakugou as much as he had been? He much preferred the second choice.
Kicking his shoes under the bed before he sat back, eyes lingering on the corners in sudden interest. There were poles at the bottom corners of the bed with rings crowning them. Glancing over his shoulder, Kirishima eyed the metal headboard made of vertical poles. They looked… sturdy. Rocking a little on the bed, Kirishima noted that it didn’t move much. Well that was… interesting.
“Eijirou.”
Hearing his first name like that made him shiver, head snapping around suddenly and peeking up at Bakugou. At the sight, his heart hammered in his chest, lips twitching as he tried to hold back an eager and anxious smile.
Bakugou was holding a pair of handcuffs and a ball-gag in both hands, head tilted to one side as his eyes roamed Kirishima’s body. Suddenly all those talks and inquiries about what Kirishima enjoyed came rushing back. So that was why he wanted to know…
Chewing on the inside of his cheeks, his eyes kept flickering from both hands and Bakugou’s face. Tonight was shaping up better than he could have ever imagined.
“Eijirou,” Bakugou repeated, voice more forceful and demanding his full attention this time. Sitting straighter, Kirishima forced his eyes to stay focused on Bakugou’s despite his curiosity. “Are you alright with this?”
“Hell yes,” Kirishima responded eagerly, speaking up before Bakugou could really finish his sentence.
Bakugou scoffed back, lips quirked up in satisfaction. “You’re not going to be able to talk so if you need to stop, click your fingers.” There was a slight pause, brows drawn in serious thought for a moment before he continued. “Can you click your fingers?”
“Who can’t?” From the sudden scowl Bakugou offered him, he would hazard a guess he couldn’t. “Sorry! Sorry! I can click my fingers, see?” Demonstrating, Kirishima grinned as Bakugou rolled his eyes. It was a slight lull in his earlier excitement, but Kirishima was enjoying himself all the same.
Bakugou didn’t let him stay off track long. Eyes hard and criticising, he let them drag over Kirishima’s body again. “Strip for me.”
Without second thought, Kirishima tore off his jacket and tossed it before working on peeling off his shirt. He wasn’t nearly as smooth as Bakugou was on stage, but what he lost in execution he made up with in enthusiasm.
The moment his shirt was tossed aside Bakugou’s eyes were fixated on Kirishima’s stomach. His eyes widened, a hand reaching out to grip Kirishima’s wrist before he could move onto his pants.
There was a light thin tuff of black hairs under his belly button, thickening as it trailed down and disappeared behind the waist of his pants. “They’re black,” Bakugou commented, letting go of Kirishima’s wrist to press the pads of his fingers against the light hairs.
The sudden touch made Kirishima’s stomach recoil, goosebumps rippling over his skin as he held his breath. His fingers felt so nice… though the unfamiliar sensation pressed so low on his belly had him squirming. “I, uh, ha yeah. The red’s not natural. Is… that a problem?”
“Fuck no,” Bakugou barked back, fingers toying with the softer hairs under his belly button. The further his fingers moved down, the coarser they became. “Just means I’ve been picturing your dick wrong.”
Bakugou had been fantasising about his dick? Well that certainly caught Kirishima’s attention.
Hooking a finger under the waist of his pants, Bakugou gave a sharp tug. “Now the rest.”
“Yes, sir,” Kirishima responded, so clearly teasing and thrilled by the latest information. How long had he been thinking about what Kirishima’s dick looked like? Was he just as eager about this?
Bakugou hid it much better, but then again Kirishima wasn’t trying to hide at all. He wanted Bakugou to know how enthusiastic he was. How Bakugou affected him. Bakugou was more use to playing a part. At putting up a superior air of ’better than you’ to draw people in. To earn attention and their praise in the form of money. But this wasn’t about money, and there were small things that gave Bakugou away. It was small, but it was there in the way his eyes stripped Kirishima bare. The twitch of his fingers and lips, impatient and holding himself back.
Kirishima’s pants had no zipper or button, stretching and pulling down easily. It was probably not all that sexy in comparison, but he hadn’t exactly come out tonight with the expectation of getting laid. Pulling his briefs down with them, his cock sprang up, throbbing and thick. Bakugou drew a sharp breath but remained otherwise silent. Still, his eyes were blown with interest. Desire.
Legs crossed at the ankle, Kirishima’s thighs were wide and open, unashamed. He was so use watching Bakugou with admiration, it was nice to be on the receiving end by the same man.
Bakugou moved fast. Crawling onto the bed, Bakugou planted his knees on either side of Kirishima’s hips as a strong hand pushed at his chest. “Down.”
Kirishima didn’t mind the commands, far from it actually. They’d talked about it before, about bow Kirishima certainly didn’t mind being ordered around, and Kirishima was thrilled Bakugou remembered so much. Sinking down obediently, Bakugou guided his arms up above his head.
A cuff clipped tight around his wrist, the inside surprisingly soft in comparison to the metal look it had. Leather? It was hard against his wrist digging in when it strained, but it wouldn’t chafe. That was thoughtful and Kirishima wasn’t surprised in the least.
Metal clinked against the steel frames before his other wrist was chained too. Kirishima tugged to test it out but they held sturdy. His cock twitched against Bakugou’s stomach, precum beading and smearing against the fabric of his shirt.
Bringing the ball-gag close to his mouth, Bakugou grasped Kirishima’s spiked hair and pulled his head back. “Got anything to say before I shut you the hell up?”
“You’re beautiful,” Kirishima responded in an instant, open and honest.
That obviously hadn’t been when Bakugou expected, spluttering for a moment as pink dusted across his nose. Not humouring Kirishima’s comment, Bakugou pushed the ball between Kirishima’s lips.
“Fucking sap.”
Kirishima’s eyes crinkled with mirth, head lifting up to aid Bakugou in doing the straps.
Once he was set, Bakugou pulled back and sat up. Settling down comfortably, Kirishima watched as Bakugou stripped himself. His actions were much more fluid and slow, teasing and rolling his body, thumbs brushing over pert nipples as his top was removed. Kirishima was watching overly eager, humming against the plastic ball. His jaw was getting tired and it was hard to swallow back the pooling spit, but he was far more interested in Bakugou himself.
Lifting up, Bakugou pushed Kirishima’s thighs apart, settling between them and eyeing Kirishima’s cock. Smooth hands rubbed over muscular thighs, thumbs pushing down against tender skin and watching the way Kirishima twitched in return. A tongue peeked out, tracing over his bottom lip before he hooked his hands under Kirishima’s legs and hauled them up. Kirishima’s hips were lifted off the blankets, legs settled over Bakugou’s shoulders and leaving him utterly exposed and so close to Bakugou’s face.
Kirishima clenched at the bedsheets, thighs tensing against Bakugou’s neck. The sudden nervousness caught Bakugou’s attention, sharp red eyes locked on Kirishima’s in an instant. His eyes wandered up for a moment caught on Kirishima’s hands. He waited a moment, cautious, before they locked with Kirishima’s again. A wave of spice and sugar bathed over him again. Breathing in deep, Kirishima’s shoulders relaxed, body sagging as he slowly came down. He wasn’t freaking out, just edging on the point of nervousness.
With one wave of his scent, Kirishima calmed down. Bakugou’s head turned trailing hot lips over his tender inner thigh. Sinking into the comforting scent, Kirishima was nearly ensnared by the comforting buzz before Bakugou bit down.
The sudden pain made Kirishima jolt, hips snapping in the air as he yelped around the gag. Kirishima tried to bite down, squeezing around the gag as he groaned, wincing as he stared up at Bakugou again. The man looked pretty fucking pleased with himself, lips curled in cruel glee before he lapped at the indents he left behind.
Trailing hot kisses and licks further down, his cheek brushed against Kirishima’s balls before he bit down again, chuckling a the groan he earned. Fingers were digging into Kirishima’s legs keeping him perfectly in place, eyes still set on Kirishima as he turned to give the other thigh the same treatment.
His cock was twitching and aching for attention and Kirishima whimpered, rocking his hips in silent plea.
Eyes narrowed, Bakugou spoke against Kirishima’s marked skin; “You want me to touch your cock?”
Kirishima nodded eagerly, thighs flexing around Bakugou’s head again as he rocked his hips again.
“Then beg for it.”
Kirishima sucked a sharp breath through his teeth, pupils blown as he stilled. Bakugou wanted him to beg? Then Kirishima would beg his hardest.
Rocking his hips up again, Kirishima whimpered and offered loud whines around the gag. It was muffled, drool bubbling around his lips, throat tight as he begged the best he could.
Bakugou’s eyes lit up, lips peeled up in a satisfied smile as his fingers soothed over his skin. “Good boy.”
Turning his face, Bakugou’s lips grazed along the side of Kirishima’s cock, a hot tongue trailing over its length. Kirishima groaned, spit dripping down his cheeks as he hooked his feet together and pushed them against Bakugou’s back.
“Careful,” he warned, fingers digging into soft skin again. Fixing Kirishima with a small frown, he waited for Kirishima to relax and whimper again before opening his lips. Mouthing along Kirishima’s throbbing length, the feather light touch made Kirishima whimper louder, body tensing and pushing against the blond between his legs. Giving a sharp ‘tsk’ noise, Bakugou pressed the flat of his tongue against the underside of Kirishima’s cock, trailing up over thick veins and warm skin. A streak of saliva shone trailed behind his tongue before it flicked over Kirishima’s tip.
Taking the tip between his lips, Bakugou glanced down at Kirishima again. His stomach was tense, muscles clenching and quivering from the bent position. They’d barely started and Kirishima already looked wrecked.
The stiffness of his hair was flaking away, softer around the roots and bending in the sheets. His pupils were blown wide in half-lidded eyes, drool smeared over his chin. And still, he looked utterly in awe. If Bakugou didn’t know better, he’d almost suggest Kirishima looked in love.
Not willing to dwell on that thought, Bakugou tore his eyes away, closing them instead as he sunk down on Kirishima’s length.
Kirishima threw his head back, moaning loud and messy around the red plastic ball. Lips sliding down the thick throbbing shaft, Bakugou hummed, his tongue cupping around the length and stroking. He remained there for a moment, sucking and moaning, moving barely. He alternated between sucking around the tip and swallowing down as much as he could manage. Kirishima’s legs would tense around him, little knee-jerk kicks clueing Bakugou in what he enjoyed.
Pulling off his cock with a pop, Bakugou wrapped a hand around his base, stroking him and smearing his saliva over his length. Flicking his tongue over the head, Bakugou’s other hand reached to his side. Kirishima hadn’t even noticed Bakugou grabbing anything else before. From his position he couldn’t quite make out what it was. It was hard to focus when Bakugou would squeeze around him.
There was a sound of a clip, Bakugou’s hand moving away from his cock a moment later. He didn’t have time to mourn though when Bakugou swallowed him down again. Getting lost in the suction again, he’d forgotten about the unknown object until he felt fingers prying his ass cheeks apart.
Something slick yet warm pressed against his rim, running along the ring of muscle and coating it. Kirishima jerked again, hips snapping up suddenly and pushing the head of his cock against the back of Bakugou’s throat. The sudden motion made Bakugou gag for a moment, his throat pulsating around his head, but if Bakugou was mad he didn’t show it. Instead he swallowed, pushing Kirishima in deeper at the same moment his finger pushed into Kirishima’s heat.
He was louder with his whines now. Uncontrolled and needy. His back was aching from the position, his jaw no better, but no amount of squirming helped. He could only lay there and take it.
A second finger pushed along with the other, twisting and prodding inside Kirishima. Parting them, Bakugou slowly worked Kirishima open, stretching the ring of muscle and coating it with slick lube.
A third finger was pushed along the first two, pumping Kirishima and stretching him around knuckles. All the while Bakugou was humming around him, tongue stroking over the underside of his cock and coaxing him on.
It was all too much, Kirishima moaning and calling out muffled names in warning. He was close but if Bakugou heard him he was ignoring it, letting it happen. Twisting his wrist, Bakugou’s fingers curled up, seeking Kirishima’s sweet spot. When they brushed along the nerves Kirishima yelped, driving his cock down further. Sucking around him, Bakugou’s fingers pushed against Kirishima’s prostate relentlessly, rubbing and sending white sparks of arousal through Kirishima’s body. Groaning, Kirishima threw his head back before cumming down Bakugou’s throat.
Bakugou’s fingers didn’t stop, pulling back only to push in harder. Scissoring his fingers, he stretched Kirishima’s ass wide as it throbbed and clenched. Bitter seed spilled down the back of Bakugou’s throat, his cock pulsating against his tongue. Eyes squeezed tight, Bakugou stilled and swallowed it down. Streaks of white painted down his throat, thick cum seeping up his tongue.
Moaning and rocking his hips, Kirishima twitched as he slowly came back down. He was sucking in deep breaths around the gag, body still strung tight and aching from the position.
Fingers slowly pulled out of his ass before Bakugou’s lips slid up his length again, his cock falling from the wet warmth and slapping against Kirishima’s stomach. Pulling off, Bakugou held Kirishima’s gaze as he very slowly and deliberately flicked a tongue over his bottom lip. Like he was savouring Kirishima’s load.
“Good boy,” Bakugou praised again, voice a little rough and raw. He eased Kirishima’s legs down slowly, letting him lay down before slowly creeping up. Lifting Kirishima’s head gently, he started undoing the strap, popping the ball gag off.
Before he could say a word, Kirishima was leaning up and catching Bakugou in a lazy kiss. It startled the alpha, brows knitted before he pulled away. “Fucking gross,” he bitched, a hand reaching down to wipe saliva off Kirishima’s chin. “I just finished sucking your dick.”
“I know,” Kirishima laughed low, voice much more hoarse than Bakugou’s. “S’okay. You’re just… so beautiful.”
Pausing again, Bakugou stared down at the beta before scoffing again. His face was already pink from the blowjob, surely Kirishima couldn’t make him blush so embarrassingly again. “Shut up,” Bakugou muttered, reaching up to unclip one hand.
Blinking innocently, Kirishima lent his head back to watch Bakugou undo the bind before he pulled back abruptly. Grasping Kirishima’s hips, Bakugou forced the other to flip on his belly. Face pushed into the blankets, Kirishima struggled to turn his head to glance back, his arms pulled around and pressed against the small of his back. His moment of release was short lived, his hands suddenly cuffed behind his back.
“Can you still click your fingers?”
“Can you?” Kirishima teased without hesitation, laughing low and gleefully when Bakugou shoved down the side of his head in retaliation. Clicking his fingers a few times rapidly, Bakugou pulled back.
“Smartass.”
“It’s a nice ass though, isn’t it?”
There was a sudden sharp slap against his ass cheek and Kirishima rutted his hips into the soft blankets in response, barking his laughter louder.
A hand slipped under his hips, pulling them up and forcing Kirishima onto his knees. Ass up and chest down, Bakugou nudged his legs apart before a much sharper pain nipped at his asscheek. Bakugou bit him, and it felt pretty hard too. When this was all said and done, Kirishima would definitely have to check it out in a mirror.
Pulling at Kirishima’s cheeks again, Bakugou slipped two fingers past Kirishima’s rim again and stretching him back open. “It is a nice ass.”
Ecstatic with the answer, Kirishima wagged his ass a little like he was trying to wag an invisible tail. There was another sharp bite to his ass, followed by a growled warning.
The hands left him all too fast, neck strained as he tried to look back and watch. Bakugou slipped off the bed long enough to strip from his pants and underwear, freeing a long cock. It was pretty, just like everything about Bakugou, framed with light blond pubes. At the base was a thick knot, pulsating with need. Precum was smeared over his cock and Kirishima realised just how turned on Bakugou had been in those tight pants. It must be torture hiding that monster. How tight were all his costumes to hide it to begin with?
Bakugou picked up the lube again, working on slicking himself up with a thin layer. Kirishima watched Bakugou work, hungry eyes watching the way his cock throbbed at his touch.
Dropping the lube, Bakugou knelt on the bed again, warm but wet hands rubbing over his ass and pulling his cheeks apart. “Ready?”
“Hell yeah,” Kirishima breathed, arching his back to try and push his hips higher. “Please, Bakugou.”
There was a beat of silence, the hand against his ass stilling. “Katsuki.”
Heart thrumming in his chest, Kirishima practically vibrated. “Please, Katsuki-”
The head of his cock pushed against his rip, sliding in slow and stretching Kirishima around him. Kirishima’s fists squeezed against his back, head bowed as he pushed his forehead into the sheets. Kirishima moaned low, mouth open and sounds flowing from him without reserve.
Bakugou’s warm hands gripped his ass, easing his length in inch by inch. His heat squeezed around him, velvet and warm sucking him down, the deeper he pushed, the more friction he was met with. Easing out a bit again, he pushed down harder. Kirishima’s ass stretched around him, the redhead moaning and pushing back against him.
Bakugou bottomed out, his knot pressed against Kirishima’s twitching rim before he pulled back out. Rocking his hips slow and shallow, he watched Kirishima’s ass eagerly suck him down. Kirishima himself was a moaning mess, head turned to push his cheek into the sheets. There was a wet patch of drool all over again, body shivering under Bakugou’s strokes.
The alpha started off slow, hands moving from Kirishima’s hips to smooth down Kirishima’s back before pushing down on his shoulder blades. Leaning over him, Bakugou pushed Kirishima down harder, arching the man back against him.
“F-fuck,” Bakugou gasped, hips jutting harder against Kirishima’s ass.
Kirishima was moaning and mewling, eyes creaked open to stare up at the stripper. “K-Katsuki. Harder, please.”
Growling low, Bakugou snapped his hips forward harder, the swell of his knot battering against his swollen rim. Pulling out further, his thrusts were getting harsher. Sharper.
“Please,” Kirishima sputtered, shivering under him. “M-more.”
Snarling, Bakugou gripped his hips again, nails digging into skin before he slammed inside. Pulling Kirishima back, he fucked the man back against his cock. His pace was getting erratic, sweat dripping down his body. The sweet scent of caramel was heavy in the air, mixing with Kirishima’s own earthy scent. Damp soil and rust.
Groaning, Bakugou’s eyes slowly closed, getting more and more lost in the smell of the beta. In Kirishima’s heat. The man was egging him on, coaxing and begging for more.
“Fuck, Ei-Eij- Eijirou. I-”
“Knot me.”
Head snapping up, Bakugou stared at the beta, eyes wide. “What?”
“Knot me, please.” He begged, pushing his hips back to try and meet Bakugou’s wild thrusts.
“That’s-” Dangerous. Alphas fucking betas was far from uncommon, but generally it took a lot more prep work before they could knot. Not to mention knotting was… usually much more intimate. Maybe less so to a beta who didn’t get those urges, but it fucking meant something to Bakugou. “Eijirou,” he warned, thrusts slowing.
“I can take it,” Kirishima insisted, bright red eyes peering back at him pleading. “Please, I want- I want everything.”
Stuttering his thrusts, Bakugou growled. It was so damn hard to resist. If Kirishima wanted it that bad, why should he try?
Hands kneading Kirishima’s ass, he pulled them further apart. “Fine,” he spat. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right.
Pausing, Bakugou grasped at Kirishima’s binds, clumsily undoing them in his haste. He snarled as he fumbled with them, his eagerness and instinct to knot getting the better of him.
Freeing Kirishima’s hands, Bakugou pulled out ignoring the way Kirishima whined. Tossing the cuffs, Bakugou snatched the lube in frustration, impatiently slicking up his thick knot. “Roll over,” Bakugou commanded, his patience wearing thin.
Kirishima, on the other hand, was patient and willing. Rolling on his back again, Kirishima stretched his legs wide, the underside of one knee pressed against Bakugou’s hip. Tossing the lube across the room, Bakugou grabbed Kirishima’s hips roughly, pulling him up against his lap.
Pressing his cock against Kirishima’s rim, it slipped in with ease. “Fuckin’- relax.”
At the demand, Bakugou’s scent got stronger, trying to force Kirishima to relax. He didn’t really need it, but it was comforting all the same.
Bakugou pushed in with ease, his knot resting against his rim in one thrust. One hand hooked under Kirishima’s thigh, the other gripping his hip and pulling him back against his cock. Bakugou didn’t waste time, thrusting in with small sharp motions. Frantic and feral.
With the help of the extra lube, his knot stretched Kirishima’s rim around the base. Each thrust eased a little bit more in. Kirishima had to release his lip, afraid of slicing it to pieces. Mouth hitched open, he mewled and hissed, clawing at the sheets for something to cling to.
Leaning forward, Bakugou crashed his lips against Kirishima, jagged teeth cutting his bottom lip. Neither seemed to care.
Throwing his arms around Bakugou’s neck, Kirishima ground back against him, rocking into each thrust. Bakugou’s knot was thick, stretching him wider with each thrust. Kirishima clung to Bakugou, moaning against his lips.
His hands moved, one bracing against the bed as the other gripped Kirishima’s hair again. So lost in the sensation and intimate act, Bakugou tilted Kirishima’s head back, his lips moving to Kirishima’s throat again. He wasn’t thinking clearly. Wasn’t thinking at all when he bit down around Kirishima’s scent gland and marked him.
The possessive act made Kirishima cum again, white ropes smearing over their stomachs. Growling against Kirishima’s skin, Bakugou gave one last hard thrust, his knot finally pushing through that last inch and popping inside.
Kirishima’s rim gripped around him, securing him inside. Feeling the pulsating heat throb around him, Bakugou came too, hot seed painting him inside. His hips slowed to a shallow thrust, his knot throbbing as he filled Kirishima’s ass.
Bakugou was panting hot and heavy against Kirishima’s skin, slowly easing from his haze as he pumped the last of his seed inside the beta.
They stayed like this for a minute. Kirishima nuzzling into Bakugou’s hair as Bakugou’s cock drizzled to a stop. His knot plugged him up completely, his ass clinging around him. It would take awhile for the swelling to go down… And when it did, it would be a mess.
Growling, Bakugou pushed his forehead against Kirishima’s shoulder. He should have controlled himself better. “We’re… gonna be here awhile.”
Kirishima hummed, pressing a kiss against Bakugou’s crown. “I know.” He sounded far too pleased about that.
Snorting, Bakugou peeked up at him with a frown. “That’s exactly what you fucking wanted, wasn’t it?”
Kirishima was exhausted, eyes heavy with the need to sleep. He hummed a positive note, clearly unapologetic. “Marking me was… all you though.”
Grunting, Bakugou turned his head away, slowly easing himself to lay on top. Kirishima didn’t seem to mind, wrapping his arms around the other and running a soothing hand through blond spikes.
“I’ll… clean up after… it goes down,” Bakugou promised, sounding just as exhausted. That was perfectly fine with Kirishima. As it was, he was happy to stay like this for now. For as long as Bakugou was willing to offer.
“Katsuki?”
Peeking up silently to the beta, Bakugou raised a brow in question.
“You’re… beautiful.”
Scoffing, Bakugou turned to press his face hard against Kirishima’s throat, growling when Kirishima laughed in reply. For such a confident alpha, he certainly got shy about a genuine compliment.
There was a silent moment, the two of them slowly drifting to a comfortable sleep before Bakugou responded; “You too… Eijirou.”