Bakugou and Kirishima are making out, which is hardly unusual. They’ve been at it for thirty minutes, or maybe an hour, tangled up on top of Bakugou’s bed with a whole afternoon stretched out ahead of them.
They lie on their sides, facing each other, Kirishima with his leg thrown over Bakugou’s and one hand in his hair. Earlier he’d called it fluffy and Bakugou had threatened to end his life, but neither of them have much to say at this point. Kirishima’s gotten less careful in the past few minutes, and his teeth sometimes graze Bakugou’s lip as he presses in gently for kiss after kiss. The amount of tongue he uses would probably qualify as excessive, but for some reason it just makes Bakugou’s heart thump harder in his chest.
Kirishima makes a quiet, hungry noise into Bakugou’s mouth, and Bakugou’s next breath comes out ragged, but the next thing he knows, Kirishima is pulling away until he’s out of reach.
“Hey, Bakugou,” he says in a weirdly serious voice. “Can I ask something?”
Bakugou would never in a thousand years admit this out loud, but Kirishima tends to have way more confidence than he does in makeout scenarios. Right now feels different, though. His brows are furrowed into a frown, and he seems to be avoiding eye contact at all costs.
“What,” Bakugou grumbles, trying not to sound too concerned.
"Do you, uh," Kirishima says, and then pauses. Bakugou wishes he would just spit it out, but then he remembers when all of this started, how hesitant he'd been over things that now come naturally, and he decides to give it a few more seconds.
"Do you remember that one time at lunch you were looking at my teeth and you had your fingers in my mouth?” Kirishima asks, all in one breath. His hand, the hand that had been wound tight in the fabric of Bakugou's t-shirt only seconds before now, rubs self-consciously at the back of his neck.
Bakugou searches his memory. He thinks he can can recall the afternoon in question; it was a long time ago, maybe a month, before making out all the time became their routine. He remembers Kirishima laughing about something, just like usual, and his weird shark teeth glinting in the sun. They'd pissed Bakugou off, or interested him, he's not really sure which one, but either way he'd reached out to grab hold of Kirishima’s chin.
"Open up," he'd demanded, and Kirishima had.
Bakugou remembers using his thumb to lift Kirishima’s top lip into what would have been a snarl if his eyes weren't always so damn friendly. At the time, they'd darted from side to side in what seemed like discomfort, but he still sat patiently as Bakugou pressed a fingertip to the very edge of one of his canines. It was sharp, alright, and once that question got answered Bakugou couldn’t think of any other reason to keep rummaging around in there, so he’d let Kirishima free.
“Freaky,” he’d commented, and returned to his sandwich.
Kirishima let out a long breath once Bakugou let go, like he'd been holding it in that whole time, which would be a stupid thing to do. Bakugou told him as much, they’d continued with their lunch like nothing happened, and Bakugou had forgotten the entire incident until just now.
"Yeah, I remember,” he says warily. He’s so busy wondering if this is the setup to some stupid joke or if Kirishima is about to dump him for being weird about his teeth that he almost misses what Kirishima says next.
"Can we do that again?"
"What the hell?" Bakugou says. Kirishima immediately ducks his head down and makes an inarticulate noise of embarrassment.
"We don’t have to!" he says, voice muffled by the blanket.
"But you want to," says Bakugou. He has no idea what the purpose of this exercise would be, and it makes him a bit suspicious, but ultimately he’s not opposed. As long as it isn’t some ploy to bite his hand off.
"Yeah," says Kirishima after a few seconds. He lifts his head up again, looking hopeful. "Would you mind?"
Instead of answering, Bakugou sits up in bed and regards his own fingers. Luckily, they've been recently washed.
"C'mere," he says, and Kirishima grins.
He pulls himself upright as well and scoots forward on his knees until they’re close enough to kiss again. Bakugou ducks in to close the distance right away, because he figures it would be fucking weird to just do this with no preamble. Even if Kirishima is into that.
Their mouths slide together, a little less gently this time. Kirishima traps Bakugou’s bottom lip between his teeth and sucks it until Bakugou’s head feels fuzzy. He knows that if he doesn’t stop soon he’ll never want to, so Bakugou allows himself a few more seconds and then quickly pulls away. He takes hold of Kirishima's chin just like he did that day, and this time Kirishima doesn't need any prompting to open up his mouth.
For a second, Bakugou isn't sure what the hell he's supposed to do. Kirishima's teeth are all present and accounted for, his tongue tucked neatly among them, and Bakugou is momentarily concerned that he’ll fuck this up somehow and Kirishima will decide he hates it after all.
As he thinks all this, his thumb swipes unconsciously across the wet inside of Kirishima's lower lip, and a quiet sound wrenches its way out of Kirishima's wide open mouth.
That's more than enough to both pique Bakugou's interest and boost his confidence. He does it again, slower this time. Kirishima’s eyes fall shut, so Bakugou takes the plunge and slips a thumb right inside his mouth.
Kirishima doesn't suck on it or anything, just lets it sit there for a few seconds as heat spreads visibly across his face. Bakugou takes the opportunity to test his teeth for sharpness one more time. They're pointy as ever, maybe even more so. It presents an interesting contrast to the inside of his cheek, which feels velvety and warm when Bakugou’s knuckle brushes against it.
Kirishima makes another noise, a quick breath that Bakugou takes as a cue to switch out his thumb for his index and middle fingers.
"How's this?" he asks right after he lays both fingers down on Kirishima's tongue, mostly just to see what he'll do.
Kirishima slurs something out that sounds kind of like “S’good.” The soft, pliable way his tongue moves as he struggles to speak makes Bakugou’s face heat up too, even though he’s hardly doing anything.
He presses down just a bit to test the resistance and finds that there is none, that Kirishima will just let Bakugou push his jaw open as far as he wants to. As Bakugou watches, Kirishima's eyelashes flutter once and he pulls in a desperate little inhale through his nose.
"Fuck," Bakugou says out loud, even though he’d meant to just think it. This whole room feels too hot. He hopes he doesn’t start sweating.
This time, he coaxes Kirishima's tongue up against his fingers until he gets the message and starts lapping at them, still not quite sucking but just pushing his tongue up in between them until they're slick with his spit. A thin string of drool runs down Kirishima's chin and he actually moans, loud and shuddery.
After that, Bakugou can’t take it anymore. He removes his fingers unceremoniously and replaces them with his own mouth, kissing Kirishima with way more desperation than he’d usually allow himself to display. He doesn’t know why he’s so worked up, but he knows that Kirishima is too, and it feels too good to question. When they break apart for air, Kirishima pants against Bakugou’s mouth.
“Uh, maybe that’s good for now,” he says when Bakugou tries to lean in again.
Bakugou scowls, but upon further reflection he sort of agrees. After all, they’re still pretty new at this.
While Bakugou is busy contemplating, Kirishima smoothly stuffs a nearby pillow into his lap.
“Hey, wanna play video games?” His voice sounds a bit strained, and his face still looks pink, but the smile he aims at Bakugou is genuine.
“Whatever,” says Bakugou, and gropes around on the bed for a pillow of his own.