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How to Please Your Dom

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It was supposed to be a joke. This little excursion to the shady sex shop just around the corner was supposed to be appalling, supposed to make his friends squeal and squirm in their seats as they sat around the dinner table at their favorite local haunt, yelling and whining at Kirishima to stop making such ridiculous suggestions. They were supposed to go on their way, say goodbye at the door, and go home. Kirishima was supposed to be getting some right now.

But no, they’re here. It’s his fault, he supposes.

The shop’s dimly lit interior is like one big, long hallway with little partitioning screens separating the enormous room into little sections. There’s an area for sex toys, equipment for kinkier stuff, some multimedia stuff, and lingerie. Everyone seems way too excited to be here as all the couples pair off to examine the wares of the shop. Kirishima never pegged his friends to be this kinky, but life’s full of surprises, he guesses.

“Momo, come look at this,” Jirou whispers in fascination to her girlfriend as she presses her nose against a glass case full of expensive-looking dildos. “This one rotates.”

Yaomomo’s eyes widen as she takes in the display, pressing a button on the side to make the display dildo waggle and squirm in its stand. The two giggle before it starts pulsing, making them gasp with surprise. Kirishima can feel his face growing as red as his hair as he watches from the archway into the room.

“Think they’ve got that weird lube? The kind that is like hot and cold until the two kinds touch?” Denki squeals.

Shinsou looks less than amused. “I don’t know what you’re on about. Just show me.”

“Kay!” Denki says, bouncing on his heels before rushing off with his elbow hooked around Hitoshi’s arm.

Mina and Sero are admiring some BDSM gear in the corner - floggers, is that what they’re called? - and Kirishima wishes he hadn’t looked. It all looks pretty scary. Well, what he can defer the purpose of, anyway. There’s some stuff over there he doesn’t know about, and wants to keep it that way. Truth be told, he’s never really let himself consider this kind of stuff. He and Katsuki have a pretty healthy, albeit vanilla sex life and the blond has never complained, so why change it?

“Kirishima, will you come look at the books with me?” Izuku asks anxiously, fiddling with his hands. “Shouto got called in and I don’t know if I can go over there by myself…”

“Ah, that sucks,” Kirishima sighs. “Sure. Lead the way.”

Kirishima follows the bouncing bush of green hair atop Izuku’s head as he moves through the racks of lingerie to the back of the shop. There’s a little curtained-off area with some really lewd sounds coming from it in the corner; Eijirou wonders what they’re watching in there until he hears the unmistakable whine of a woman orgasming and doesn’t wonder anymore. He’s not the only one affected by it, as he catches a glimpse of bright red freckled cheeks.

“Right, so, uh-” he’s interrupted by another loud moan “-let’s look at the books,” he says quickly, picking one up immediately before grimacing at the cover and setting it down again.

“This isn’t your thing, huh, Izuku?” Eijirou asks, peering over his shoulder at the title, How to Give Head.

Izuku’s mop of emerald locks sways as he shakes his head, “I uh, I don’t need help with that,” he chokes out before laughing.

Eijirou waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “So you’re good at it then, huh? Shoto’s probably happy about that!”

“Kirishima!” Izuku squeals, covering the ruddy blush on his cheeks while the redhead laughs at him. Picking up a book from the shelf, he thrusts it into his arms. “I bet you’ll learn something from this one.”

How to Deal with Erectile Dysfun- hey, Zuku! Rude!” he cackles, setting it back on the shelf before handing Izuku another book. “Read this one, read this one.”

“Tickle his Pickle. Oh man. Kirishima, no, please,” Izuku howls, before setting the book back on the shelf. His blush is a little less apparent and that infamous smile is back on his face. He looks much more relaxed, and thankfully, the laughter helps Eiji unwind a little, too.

That’s when it catches his eye. The bright red cover hiding between the other spines just screams to be picked up. Eijirou glances at Izuku, who’s enraptured by some bright yellow book with a girl with fake dog ears on the front, before plucking it from the shelf.

How to Please Your Dom.

“Not everyone wants a dominant-submissive element to their relationship, but for those who do, they often don’t know where to start. The idea of your partner commanding you and using you might be thrilling, but there’s more depth beyond what’s surface dom/sub play,” he murmurs aloud as he reads. It sounds intriguing, that’s for sure. He’s definitely fantasized about something like that before; the little image he’s created for himself of Katsuki fucking him senseless, his stomach smeared with his own come, overstimulated and blissed out, makes him blush again as he flips through the book a little more eagerly.

He scrolls over a page with “the ten commandments of dom/sub interaction” before flipping wildly to the back half of the book where glossy pages of photos and illustrations are, settling on one that has two men playing together. One’s tied up in an elaborate rope harness while the other one fucks him and wow. All he can really think is wow.

That’s fucking hot.

“Oi, shitty hair. I wanna get out of here,” Katsuki yells from the other end of the store. “Soy sauce face and I are gonna go next door to get a beer.”

“Kay!” Eijirou answers quickly, holding the book to his chest. It won’t hurt if he just buys it for a quick read and returns it later, right? He’s just curious. Bakugou doesn’t have to know. He’d just think it’s weird, anyway.

“Did you find something, Kirishima?” Izuku asks, carefully clutching the yellow book to his chest, the flush back on his cheeks.

Nodding with an awkward smile, Eijirou says, “yeah. Let’s go?”

“Sounds good.”

Kirishima walks out of the store with the black bag containing his book tucked under his arm. He feels awkward going to the bar next door with the bag- Katsuki will definitely know he bought something there, and he’ll probably give him some grief over it. So what, though? It’s just a book, he thinks, as he walks into the bar.

“Oi,” Katsuki calls from the end of the bar. He’s alone; Mina must have come to collect Sero so they could go home. For some reason that makes Eijirou more anxious. Katsuki will be able to ask questions about it. Tease him for it. Maybe the book is a little weirder than he thought when he was looking at it in the bookstore. He clings to it as he slips onto the barstool with an overeager smile.

“Hey, babe,” Katsuki says, leaning over to collect his welcome kiss from Eijirou. “You bought something from that shitty little shop?”

Biting his lip, he clings to his book just a little tighter, “Well, uh, yeah? But like, you don’t have to look at it. It’s okay.”

Katsuki narrows his eyes. “C’mon. If you bought something from a sex shop, I should get to see it. Cuz I’m the one having sex with you.”

“Katsuki!” Eijirou whines, snatching the book away.

His boyfriend’s eyebrows twitch in a frown. “Why can’t I see it?”

Oh, boy. He’s in trouble now.

“Um. I guess,” he says, dropping his voice and wincing, “I don’t want you to make fun of me?”

It’s silent for a moment and Eijirou cracks open an eye to peer at Bakugou. He’s totally expressionless, save for the twitch in his eyebrow. Eijirou braces himself for the worst and Katsuki brings his mug of beer down onto the bar with a slam.

“What kind of fucking boyfriend am I if you’re too fucking scared to tell me what’s in the goddamn bag!?” Katsuki growls. The whole bar goes quiet for a moment before picking up volume again.

“Huh?” Eijirou asks, awestruck. He’s not mad at him?

Katsuki drags a hand down his face, obviously thinking hard about what he wants to say. He doesn’t normally get stuck on his words like this and Eijirou isn’t sure if he should be excited or terrified, so he just sits there, staring and waiting.

“You should be able to talk to me about this stuff, Kirishima. If you can’t, we have a fucking problem,” Katsuki growls. “So if I promise not to make fun of you for what’s in that fuckin’ bag, will you show it to me?”

“Here?”

“Yes, here,” Katsuki growls, snatching the bag from Eijirou. He bites his lip as the blond opens the bag. “It’s a book?”

“It just… it looked interesting,” Kirishima murmurs as Bakugou examines the cover, the back, and the table of contents. His scarlet eyes move a mile a minute as he examines the text with a scowl that deepens just as quickly.

“I’m sorry!” Kirishima exclaims, tucking his arms around himself.

Katsuki’s still quiet as he looks it over. He flips through the pages, lets out a little tch , and puts it back in the bag, saying nothing.

“Don’t be fucking sorry, hair for brains,” Katuski grunts. He sets his hand palm-up on the bar and scowls. “C’mon now, don’t leave me waiting.”

Eijirou looks at Katsuki, blushing before setting his hand in Katsuki’s. They’re not really ones for public displays of affection, but when they do it, it always makes Kirishima’s heart feel like it’s gonna jump out of his chest. Bakugou folds his slender, scarred fingers around Kirishima’s and gives them a gentle squeeze.

“You don’t need that book,” Katsuki mumbles.

“Huh?”

“I said, you don’t need that stupid book.”

“Why?”

Katsuki rests his chin on his hand as he looks away from Kirishima. The blush on his cheeks is faint, but unmistakable.

“Cuz I know all about it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

Eijirou’s eyes dart to the book, and then back to Katsuki. He’s never been so excited to talk about sex. Usually they just jump right into it with not a lot of words being said about the matter. This, though, this D/S thing opens up a whole bunch of doors with a whole lot of words behind them.

He grins eagerly at Katsuki before grabbing his face and kissing him.

“What the fuck, shitty hair?” he growls.

“Let’s go home!”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”






“So… how does it work?” Eijirou asks breathlessly, snuggling into Katsuki’s side. The blond is prostrate on his back, chest still heaving as he catches his breath, his skin glistening with sweat. Eijirou uses the damp washcloth in his hand to wipe the last little traces of come from his stomach before tossing it to the side and pulling the blankets over them.

Turning out the light, Katsuki suspends the room in shadow. The light from the busy city they live in pours through vacant spaces between the blinds, striping the room in a soft, ambient glow. The old alarm clock on their bedside table reads the early hours of the morning.

Katsuki pauses for a moment. “There’s some rules. Not official ones, but they help keep it safe and shit.”

“Safe?” Eijirou asks, wrinkling his nose.

“Yeah, dude, do you want me to just do whatever I want to you with you having to fuckin’ say in it?” Katsuki hisses.

Eijirou wiggles his eyebrows.

“Okay, so I’ll just use you as a footstool all day tomorrow. Sound good?”

“Okay, I get your point.”

“Right,” Katuski sighs. “First thing’s first. We gotta be better about fuckin’ communicating than we are now. Don’t be afraid to tell me shit. And I’ll try not to make you feel afraid of tellin’ me shit.”

Eijirou nods. “I can do that.”

“Good,” Katsuki mumbles, pressing a kiss to Eijirou’s forehead and pulling him closer. The redhead gleefully presses into his side. “If I’m thinkin’ right, you want me to be the dom.”

Blushing, Eijirou nods bashfully.

“You want me to command you,” Katsuki says, voice thick and sultry again despite having just come. He rolls onto his side to face Kirishima, eyes dark and heavy-lidded. “You want me to do whatever I want with you, within your capabilities. To control you.”

Eijirou can’t help the little whimper that slips from his lips. “Yeah, fuck yeah, Suki. I really want that.”

That terrifying, sexy smile spreads across Katsuki’s face. “You want me to fuck you whenever I want, use you however I want?”

“Yeah,” Eijirou chokes.

Katsuki pulls him into a harsh kiss, biting his lower lip so hard he can feel it bruising beneath the harsh pressure of his teeth. Kirishima gasps and paws at Katsuki’s chest, seeking something to hold onto, and Katsuki slips his fingers through Eijirou’s hair, touching it softly. It’s such a gentle touch compared to the roughness of his kiss and the switch between the two dynamics is dizzying.

“You want to trust me,” Katsuki murmurs. “And I want you to fuckin’ trust me. I wanna take care of you, Eiji, and I want you to let me do that. I want you to be obedient, so I can praise you. I wanna punish you, so you can learn to be better. Cuz I’m sure you wanna be the best sub for me, don’t you, Eiji?”

His gaze is so soft, so absolutely enamoring, that Kirishima’s eyes drop to the blond’s chest, only for Katsuki to slip his fingers beneath his chin to force his eyes back up. The affection is still there, hiding in the stern gaze he’s sporting. “Don’t look away from me when I’m talking to you.”

“O-okay,” Eijirou breathes. He can already feel his cock start to stir and come back to life from where it’s laying against his thigh.

“And call me sir.”

“Yes, sir,” Kirishima murmurs. The words go straight to his cock, making it twitch limply as blood begins to flow south. His upper lip is trapped between his teeth as he looks at Katsuki; already, he’s thinking of him as his dom, as his master, and he can’t wait to see where this takes them.

Katsuki’s eyes flutter shut as he breathes in shakily. “Fuck, yeah, Eiji. I love that.”

“I do too,” Kirishima whispers, pulling himself flush against Katsuki’s front. He leans in for a kiss, but his boyfriend clamps a hand over his mouth.

“You’ll ask for permission first, baby,” Katsuki whispers. “When we’re both home like this, with jackshit to do, I’m your master, and your ass belongs to me.”

Kirishima nods and Katsuki moves his hand to his cheek. “What… what if I don’t want to?”

“Then just tell me. Tell me ‘red’ and we’ll stop. Green is fuck yeah, keep going, and yellow is slow down. Alright? You wanna come up with rules?”

Eijirou mutters, “is that allowed?”

“Hell yeah,” Katsuki replies. “Big fuckin’ part is the safe, sane, and consensual. Means we both gotta want it, and agree on it, and respect the other’s wishes.”

“Okay… um…” Eijirou starts. His mind is racing. Of course, he’s thought of this before, what he likes and what he doesn’t like in regards to sex, but now that Katsuki’s asking, his mind is freezing up. “Well, um…”

Katsuki furrows his brow and Kirishima winces, he’s already screwing up and pissing off his dom already. It hasn’t even been an hour and he’s already failing at this whole submissive thing. There’s a soft touch at his temple and Kirishima opens his eyes to find Katsuki pursing his lips, trying to look neutral.

“Tell me, baby,” he whispers in a soft command.

“Don’t make me feel bad about myself,” Kirishima murmurs. It’s hard to say that out loud; the words make his heart seize up in his chest and guilt ooze from it like blood from a wound. He already knows he’s not good enough for Katsuki, but to fail at this, too? It’s too much.

“Eiji,” Bakugou says sternly. “Baby. I won’t. I fucking swear. I want us both to feel good, alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

A little shiver shoots through his lover and the grin he receives in return for his words is almost hungry. “Alright then,” Katsuki says. “I have a few. As my sub, I don’t want you sitting on the furniture unless I invite you. Bed, couch, chairs, that kinda shit.”

“O-okay,” Eijirou stutters. “So where do I sit?”

“At my feet,” Katsuki says with an absolutely devious grin that sends heat straight to Kirishima’s groin.

“Yes, sir,” he replies, returning the grin.

“And you don’t come without permission,” Katsuki says in a hushed tone. Even he’s blushing now, as he pulls Kirishima in for a kiss that promises so much more.

“Yes, sir.”

“Fuck, Kiri,” Bakugou mutters, burying his face in his neck. “That sounds so fucking good. I can’t stand it. Let’s start tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Kirishima whispers. He’s so relieved. Katsuki is so serious about this; he’s hasn’t seen Katsuki take something so seriously besides his job. He seems to be just as excited about this as Kirishima is, and it’s kind of wonderful to have something to be excited about together.




Katsuki’s already home and moving around the kitchen when Eijirou gets home from work. He can hear him from the genkan, clattering with pots, pans and utensils, just like any other day. It’s the first time the redhead has seen his boyfriend all day; he worked the morning shift, unlike Kirishima, who had been there until the evening. It seems like a totally normal scenario for the two of them, leaving Kirishima feeling anxious.

What if Katsuki forgot? Or what if he changed his mind? It could be totally possible that after last night, he decided it just wasn’t worth it. Maybe he likes keeping things vanilla too much to want to change it. Kirishima loves him, so he guesses he’ll just accept it if that’s the way things are, but it’s disappointing. He’s disappointing.

He lets his boots fall with a thump to the floor of the genkan before stripping his socks and leaving them there. He just wants to get it over with if Katsuki’s gonna tell him it isn’t gonna work. He was just excited for the chance to please Katsuki.

Eijirou walks into the kitchen to find the blond hunched over the stove; whatever he’s cooking smells amazing. He leans over his shoulder to dip his finger in a thick gravy that’s bubbling on the stovetop.

“Fuck, that’s delicious, man!”

Katsuki turns around, glaring him down. “Did I fuckin’ tell you you could do that?”

“Uh,” Eiji stutters. Oh, shit.

“Gotta play by the rules, baby,” Katuski growls, backing Eijirou into the edge of the counter until he’s pinning him against its hard, marble edge. “You gonna be a good boy for me?”

Eijirou feels like he can’t breathe in the best of ways. His mouth drops open as he nods. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be good.”

Katsuki raises his eyebrows.

“Uh, sir. I’ll be good for you, sir.”

Scarlet eyes narrow in a pleased expression as Katsuki reaches up to stroke his cheek. “You said you wanted this. That still the case?”

Relief floods his system as Kirishima leans into Katsuki’s gentle hand. He reaches up to touch him, only to pull away - he should ask first, right? That’s what a good sub would do, ask for permission before taking what he wants, even if what he wants is right in front of him.

“Can I touch you, sir?”

“Yes, baby. Go ahead.”

Kirishima sets his hands on Bakugou’s chest, smoothing the soft, black cotton of his t-shirt over his broad muscles. He smiles at him and pleasure warms his heart as Katsuki’s gaze softens.

“Yes, sir. I want this. I really, really want this.”

“Good,” Bakugou grumbles before pressing a firm kiss to Kirishima’s lips. “Welcome home, baby. I’m making you dinner. Go get changed.”

“Uh, what should I wear, sir?”

“It’s already laid out for you,” Bakugou says, easing off of Kirishima before patting his ass firmly.

Eijirou nods before making his way to the bedroom. He’s expecting some wild outfit, maybe something strappy and sexy like everything he’s seen on the internet when he googles BDSM. What’s laying there waiting for him is nothing like what he’s expecting. It’s just a pair of compression shorts, the ones Eijirou likes to wear on his runs. A weight eases off his chest when he sees it’s something familiar and comfortable to him.

He wasn’t sure how far they were going to jump into things on the first day, but he’s glad to see that Katsuki’s taking it easy on him. The fact that Katsuki knows this stuff at all is a surprise, but then again, they’ve only been dating for a few years and he didn’t say anything about changing up their sex life, either. Katsuki’s playing fair, though, and Kirishima is appreciative of his master.

His master, he thinks, letting the words travel through his body in a full shiver. He likes that way more than he thought he would.

Kirishima trots back out to the kitchen to find a full spread of food on the table. There’s a roast surrounded by a pile of vegetables; Katsuki’s always been a good cook and this is one of his specialties. Kirishima’s mouth is already watering. He moves to sit in the chair in front of a plate full of food, but Katsuki clears his throat as a reminder of the roles they’ve taken on.

“Right! Can I sit, sir?”

“No,” Katsuki growls, crossing his arms. “You fucked up earlier, sticking your fingers in the food I was making for you, and not addressing me when you got home.”

Kirishima grimaces. “I’m sorry, sir,” he sighs, rolling his lower lip between his teeth.

Katsuki shakes his head. “Fuckin’ try again, baby. Go kneel in front of the couch and wait for me. We’ll eat dinner once you’ve learned your lesson.”

His breath hitches in anticipation as he crosses the room to the loveseat sitting in the corner. Its plush, red cushions are soft and worn, yet forbidden now, only available to him through invitation. He’s received strict instructions to kneel, and somehow, as he positions himself on his knees, letting his hands rest on his thighs and holding his head high, this is so much more appealing than the couch. The need to please, the desire to be praised and rewarded for good behavior pulses through him, thick as syrup.

“Good,” Katsuki growls as he sits in the middle of the two-seater sofa. “Now, lay across my lap, baby. Ass up.”

Clambering onto the sofa, Kirishima awkwardly positions himself across Katsuki’s lap. The blond grips his hips and guides him until he’s lying perpendicular to his thighs, groin pressing just below his lover’s. The fact that he’s mostly naked, lying there and waiting for punishment sends a little flood of heat to his belly.

“Color.”

“Huh?”

“Tell me your damn color. Are we green?” Katsuki grumbles, stroking his hand over Kirishima’s ass.

Oh. Consent, right. There’s not a doubt in his mind as he says, “yes, please, sir. I want to be punished. Green.”

“Fuck,” Katsuki groans. Eijirou wants to turn around and look at him, to see that familiar dark arousal in his eyes and gritted teeth he knows and loves, but Katsuki had told him to lay in his lap, and he wasn’t about to go screwing up again.

“Sounds so fuckin’ good when you say that, baby. Say it again.”

Eijirou folds his arms beneath his head as he grins and says, “I want to be punished, sir.”

Strong fingers slip between his shorts and skin, tugging them down slowly until his asscheeks are exposed to the slight chill of the room. Kirishima can’t help but relish the way the scarred texture of Katsuki’s knuckles drag over the soft, unmarred skin of his ass, sending little tingles shooting across his skin, making him hum in appreciation. Katsuki’s so gentle, so tender-

A loud smack and a dull ache on his bottom make him yelp and arch his back. It’s not strong enough to truly hurt, but Kirishima has to bite his lip and concentrate so as not to activate his quirk, no matter how much his instinct tells him to. He’s earned this and he deserves it, but maybe if he’s good enough, it’ll make Katsuki happy.

His boyfriend smooths over the skin with the soft touch of his palm, stroking it before drawing it back and slapping it again. This time hurts just  a little bit more, since it was still smarting from the first time. Again, he strokes Kirishima’s ass before bringing his hand down hard.

“Keep it up, baby,” Katsuki practically purrs, spanking him again without the intermission of his gentle touch. Soon, Katsuki’s raining down hard smacks on Kirishima’s cheeks, deviating between light and hard hits, and everything in between. Occasionally, he’ll stroke and squeeze the reddened flesh, drawing soft moans from his partner.

Kirishima can feel himself aching between his legs; it’s a punishment, yeah, since it hurts like hell, but Katsuki’s caresses and touches are a gift. They feel so good compared to the harsh blows he bestows upon him, but Kirishima finds himself relishing those, too. He knows he’s taking his punishment well and that Katsuki will be pleased.

Sweat drips from his forehead- when did he start sweating? - as Eijirou rolls his forehead across his forearms to hide his face. He can feel the prick of tears at the corners of his eyes; what was a dull ache is now a sharp throb, punctuated by every slap of Katsuki’s strong hands.

“Fuck, you’re doing so good, baby,” Katsuki croons, before spanking Kirishima the hardest he has all night across both of his cheeks. His fingertips sting, and his palm collides with a strong impact, making Kirishima cry out with pleasure and pain alike. Bakugou hums with delight before kneading his fingers gently into the sullied skin.

That goes on for awhile, the gentle massage of his cheeks and thighs. Katsuki sprinkles in some more spanking here and there, but the hits are gentle and far between. Kirishima rocks back into the touch and can feel himself trembling with exertion. Surely, Katsuki can feel it too, as he pressed open-mouthed kisses to Eijirou’s shoulder blades while he touches him.

Katsuki lets his hands rest on Kirishima’s ass, stroking delicate patterns into his skin with the tips of his fingers. “You were fucking perfect, so perfect for me, baby.”

Kirishima can’t help but smile as he says, “thank you, sir.” His voice is so much weaker than he expected; the hoarseness and rasp makes him realize just how affected he was by the spanking. The throbbing ache between his legs doesn’t help, either. He wants to rut down into Katsuki’s muscular thighs, but he refrains. He doesn’t think his ass can take another beating tonight.

“Let’s get you fed. You did a damn good job, Eiji,” Katsuki hums, lifting his arms to let Kirishima climb out of his lap and kneel on the floor.

“Nah, nah. Get up here,” Bakugou says, shaking his head and moving to make room for the redhead. Eijirou knows his face is practically glowing as he sits on the couch; its soft cushions are wonderful against his throbbing asscheeks. Katsuki leaves, just for a moment, before coming back with a plate full of food. Eijirou groans as he sees steam curling from the hot, fresh roast.

“Too tired,” Kirishima sighs, before adding quickly, “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Shut up, will you?” Katsuki growls, cutting into the food with a fork and knife before bringing the bite to Kirishima’s lips. “Just eat.”

“Okay,” Kirishima murmurs, smiling before taking the bite. It’s delicious, melt-in-your-mouth tender, and he sighs before opening his eyes to reveal a second bite, hovering in the air and waiting for him.

“You don’t have to,” Kirishima says quickly. “Shouldn’t I be-”

“Listen,” Bakugou grumbles. Occupying himself with rearranging the potatoes on the plate with the tip of the knife. “We talked about this, remember? You gotta let me take care of you. I want to. Before, you were too fuckin’ scared to even tell me what you wanted. I gotta make that up to you.”

Eijirou nods, takes the bite, chews, and swallows. “Okay.”

“Good,” Katsuki says, leaning over to kiss him. “Thank you, baby.”

Kirishima shudders and laughs before taking another bite and Katsuki rolls his eyes, despite the subtle blush to his cheeks. “Whatever.”