Work Text:
Kirishima never wanted to look at his boyfriend like a challenge. After close to a decade of knowing him, he had learned how to traverse Bakugou’s many shifting moods. If Kirishima got scorched a few times along the way, so be it. Bakugou was not a challenge, or a struggle to be around. But the intensity of his bad weeks were unparalleled.
Kirishima only realized it would be one of those terrible weeks when Bakugou nearly killed his hero partner on Monday. The entire agency was on high alert. There had been a distinct spike in villain attacks over the weekend, leading to each pair being exhausted and overwhelmed. And it was only Monday. Kaminari and Kirishima had just returned to the office, battered and bruised, but still up and walking. Kaminari has held onto enough of his mental faculties to get the report out of the way, so bloodied and tired, they slouched to their desks and dragged the fresh copies in front of them.
Kirishima was still trying to coax his hand out of hardening enough to hold a pen, listening to Kaminari babble and try to remember the content of the fight, when the door to the office was blown open. Kirishima immediately tuned out Kaminari’s voice as Bakugou stormed through the door, ribbons of smoke trailing him. Midoriya waved the smoke away as he came into the agency after his hero partner. Kaminari fell silent, similar to the rest of the office, as they watched the two infamous partners stalk through the cubicles. Something had gone very wrong, and Kirishima tried to assess the situation as fast as possible.
He wasn’t fast enough. Midoriya caught up to Bakugou’s long strides and grabbed his shoulder. They were only a few feet away from Kirishima now, and his hands clenched as he watched Bakugou’s face pinch together. Adrenaline spiked in Kirishima’s veins as if he was still battling the villian from earlier. “I’m sorry, Kacchan,” Midoriya said. Kirishima watched his stony face with something close to gratefulness. Since adolescence, he had learned to stand up to his partner, and apologize without groveling.
Bakugou didn’t seem to see it in the same manner. His eyes lit with fire and Kirishima jumped from his chair. He still wasn’t fast enough. Bakugou had a hand around Midoriya’s throat before Kirishima could even touch him. “Shut the fuck up,” he snarled. His fingers flexed, palm pressing roughly into Midoriya’s trachea. Nitroglycerin burned on the air. “Just shut up.” The venom in his voice was beginning to waver, and Kirishima imagined his gaze was darting around the office, realizing all eyes were on him. He still refused to back down and when his hand compressed Midoriya’s windpipe, tension made the hairs on Kirishima’s neck stand on end.
Power crackled in the air as Midoriya punched Bakugou square in the sternum. Kirishima was surprised he didn’t hear the cracking of bone. Bakugou’s hand tore away from Midoriya’s throat as he flew backwards. Kirishima caught him before he could collapse. His feet raked scars through the carpet as he kept both of them standing. Bakugou relaxed in his arms, as much as he could with the breath knocked out of him and pain radiating from his solar plexus. “That’s enough,” Midoriya said. His gaze was cold and unyielding on Bakugou’s face. When he glanced to Kirishima, guilt laid in his gaze. He shook his head and gave a weak smile. Bakugou needed to be put in his place by someone.
Kirishima hefted Bakugou up and got him back on his feet. He secured his arm around Bakugou’s waist. Without thought of the other people in the office, his hand massaged the back of Bakugou’s neck. His chest rumbled with a steady purr as Bakugou relaxed even further against him. Later, he might scream at Kirishima for it, but it was worth it for now. He pressed their cheeks together, scenting his partner just slightly before he turned back to Kaminari. “Think you can finish up that report for me?” Kaminari nodded. He guided Bakugou out of the office, keeping him tucked into his side even when he was able to walk on his own again, trilling gently the entire time.
Bakugou was silent as they changed clothes, and when Kirishima laced their fingers together and dragged him back to the car. He was quiet as he buckled himself in and turned to stare out the window. Kirishima flipped on the radio and drove them home. No matter how badly he wanted to know everything, how badly he wanted to pry Bakugou apart to try and comfort him, he knew it would be useless. So he stayed quiet, hoping his presence was enough to calm Bakugou.
It was only when the radio crackled with breaking news about the hero Ground Zero, that Bakugou spoke. As Kirishima scrambled to turn the radio off, Bakugou tapped his knuckles against the window. “It wasn’t his fault.” Kirishima glanced away from the road. “I didn’t want him to take the blame for my fuck up.” Kirishima nodded, tracing the line of Bakugou’s nose with his eyes and hoping he wouldn’t crash the car. “He’s still… he’s still afraid of me. Even if I’m not a threat to him anymore.”
Kirishima reached for him then, rubbing up and down his thigh. Bakugou continued staring out the window silently, knocking his knuckles against the cold glass. Eventually he reached down and laced their fingers together, answering Kirishima’s rumbling with a soft trill.
It was sure to be a bad week, but as Kirishima parked the car and walked with Bakugou to their apartment, he wasn’t too worried about it.
~
Kirishima woke to rays of sun falling across his face. Bakugou stood near the window, leaning heavily against the sill and pressing his forehead against the glass. Kirishima managed to roll out of bed without cracking his skull on the nightstand and pressed up behind his lover. Bakugou was hotter than normal, like a furnace cradled into Kirishima’s chest. He assumed it was just sleep warmth, and pressed his nose up to the side of Bakugou’s throat. The boy used to make fun of him for it, his insistence on scenting the omega each morning. It took him nearly a year of sleeping in the same bed as him to realize Bakugou was worried about smelling bad. It took a lot of embarrassing explaining to get him to realize even fresh out of the gym, he could only ever smell like heaven to Kirishima. But when he smelled him this morning, something was off. A thick cloying scent laid under what Kirishima was used to. His hands squeezed Bakugou’s hips, and he tried to maneuver him back toward the bed while deciphering the scent on his throat. Bakugou stood steady. “You’re sick.” Kirishima murmured, again trying to pull him back to bed.
Bakugou relented with a grunt, letting Kirishima tuck him back into bed. “You’re not going to work today.” Bakugou’s face pinched, but he didn’t try to deny it. Kirishima felt his forehead with the back of his knuckles, lips pursed. “I’ll let them know when I get there. Do you want me to text Deku?” Bakugou’s face clenched again, and he shook his head. “Then you should.” He dropped Bakugou’s phone onto his stomach, before heading to the bathroom to shower.
He returned to the bedroom and found Bakugou staring at his open phone. Kirishima finished drying his hair as he said, “Just send it, Katsuki.”
Bakugou grumbled from the bed, but seemed to listen as Kirishima heard his phone clatter against the nightstand a moment later. He dressed quickly and packed a bag, saving styling his hair for the bathroom in the office as he returned to the bed. “Do you need anything before I go?” Bakugou shook his head, avoiding Kirishima’s gaze with a despondent pout. “I’ll be home the moment you need something, alright?” That seemed to smooth Bakugou’s feathers slightly. Kirishima bent down and pressed his lips to Bakugou’s forehead. “I’ll see you tonight.” He thumbed over Bakugou’s cheekbone with a smile, and Bakugou managed to return it.
A shitty mood and some sort of bug in 24 hours, as Kirishima locked the front door and jogged into the parking garage, he figured it was shaping up to be a pretty shitty week after all. He hoped he didn’t get sick
~
After letting his boss know of Bakugou’s absence, and checking in with Midoriya, Kirishima settled down at his desk to work. He had to renew his hero license, polish up some reports and make sure he and Kaminari were on the same page going into the rest of the week. It was boring, and led to his mind almost constantly returning to Bakugou. He never got any texts from his lover, but it took him much longer than normal to finish his work.
Midoriya tapped on the wall of his cubicle and drew Kirishima’s gaze away from his last piece of work. “Hey, you wanna grab a drink?” He looked ready to leave and characteristically nervous. Kirishima signed his last bit of paperwork and grabbed his phone.
“I’d like to, but let me check in with Bakugou.” He looked away from Midoriya as he grabbed his phone, but Kirishima could swear he felt the boy beside him stiffen.
Deku wants to grab drinks. You doing alright?
yea ill see u later
He responded almost immediately, and Kirishima stared at his phone for a few seconds, trying to find some subtext before he turned it off and tossed it into his bag. “Let's do it. Where to?” Midoriya’s smile was a little shaky, his face a bit flushed. “You doing alright man?” Kirishima looked at him as he threw his shit into his backpack.
Midoriya jumped at the question. “Yeah! I’m good.” The answer was a bit too hasty to be convincing, but Kirishima let it drop as they left the office.
They drove separately and dipped into the dingy bar outside of town without being recognized. Kirishima didn’t think much about getting home as he ordered a beer and slipped into the booth across from Midoriya. He was sipping on something fruity that probably had a lot more alcohol in it than it seemed. It was a hospitable silence, just two friends sitting together at a bar, drinking and relaxing from the day. “How’s… How’s Bakugou doing?” Midoriya ventured. He was tapping his fingers on the glass and making the pink liquid inside shimmer.
Kirishima shrugged. “He seemed pretty sick when I left this morning. Kind of feverish.” He sighed and gulped some more of his beer. “I hope he’s doing alright.”
Midoriya’s face was bright red. It was starting to become a bit strange. “Are you sure you’re alright? Did Bakugou get you sick?” Midoriya leaned away when Kirishima reached out to try and feel his cheek with the backs of his knuckles.
He laughed shrilly. “No! No! I’m fine, I swear” Kirishima blinked at him before shrugging.
“Alright, dude. You’re just acting weird.”
Midoriya grimaced and curled his fingers around his thin glass. “Are you sure Bakugou’s sick?”
Kirishima furrowed his brow. “Yeah. He was shaking, sweating and pale this morning.” Midoriya stared at him. He blinked owlishly, looking remarkably younger than 25. “What else could it be?” He leaned in closer across the table, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. Whatever was on Deku’s mind was surely too embarrassing to say loudly.
“Nothing!” Midoriya exclaimed.
Kirishima wasn’t convinced, but he let it drop. He leaned back to his side of the booth and slouched against it. “I’m sorry about what happened the other day. With him.” Kirishima took another sip of his beer, remembering Bakugou’s heartbroken tone in the car.
“It’s alright. You don’t need to apologize for him.”
Kirishima shrugged. “I’ll do it anyway.” He sighed. “I guess he’s just having a rough week.”
Midoriya hummed, noncommittally again. “Are you… Are you sure that this irritation is normal?”
Kirishima snorted. “Have you met Bakugou?”
Midoriya’s laugh was tight and fabricated. “It just seems to me like something else is going on.” Kirishima’s head fell forward, staring at Midoriya as he finished his drink. “You might want to take care-” He broke off when he saw the sour look fall across Kirishima’s face. “Sorry. Just talk to him.” Kirishima still didn’t understand what he was getting at, but nodded.
“Have a good night.” He murmured, watching Midoriya leave the bar. He envied the way he slipped through the crowd without a single person turning their head to him. Kirishima envied the way that no one ever expected Deku to ‘take care’ of anyone. Bitterness welled in his throat, and he couldn’t even finish his beer before he left the bar. He felt eyes on him as soon as he stood. Other alphas stood alone or with mates, sizing him up with a fire in their eyes. Betas and omegas looked him up and down while trying to gauge his virility. He escaped the crowd without getting groped at least.
The moment he stepped into his apartment, and found it drenched in the scent of Bakugou. He dropped the day’s baggage at the door and followed the trails of scent back toward the bedroom. It smelled like Bakugou had been rubbing himself on every available surface, and the mystery continued when Kirishima pushed open the door and found Bakugou situated in a nest of clothes and blankets on the bed.
Something deep and instinctual jerked in his gut as he watched Bakugou sleep. His face was pressed into one of Kirishima’s favorite shirts. He picked his way through the messy bedroom--clothes were strewn across the floor, pillows tossed haphazardly from the bed-- to sit beside Bakugou. He tested his knuckles on his forehead again. He didn’t seem to be burning up too badly, considering he buried under a mess of clothes and blankets. Kirishima smiled down at his sleeping face. Even on his worst weeks, Bakugou wasn’t a challenge. Even on his worst weeks, Kirishima still got to come home to him, peaceful and lovely.
Kirishima pulled off his jeans and shirt and slid into bed next to him. He kicked off some of the clothes tangled around Bakugou to hold him. He made a little noise in his sleep and pressed his face into the crook of Kirishima’s neck. Kirishima’s chest rumbled, soothing his omega even when he slept. He fell asleep with a smile on his face.
~
Kirishima was still in love with him, even when Bakugou woke him up by pushing him out of bed. He managed to not smack his head anywhere unpleasant, and jerked awake on an embarrassing screech. Bakugou rounded the bed and stood above him. “You never wake up on time when you drink.”
Kirishima couldn’t even manage to glare up at him. “I didn’t even have a full beer last night.”
Bakugou smirked. “It's always funny to watch to flail out of bed.”
Kirishima lunged for his legs to try and bring him down, but Bakugou dodged out of the way. He chased him around the bedroom until he caught the back of Bakugou’s shirt and dragged him into his arms. “You owe me a kiss for that.” Bakugou was still hissing and spitting and attempting to claw up his arms when Kirishima smashed their mouths together. Bakugou went a little easier like that, arching and preening under the attention.
Even so, when they broke apart, Bakugou sneered at him. “Brush your teeth, we’re leaving in 15.” He didn’t give Kirishima the chance to argue, and it seemed like he was feeling a bit better. He smacked another kiss onto Bakugou’s cheek before going into the bathroom to get ready.
“You feeling better? You think it was just like a one day bug or something?” He finished brushing his teeth and fussing with his hair before he came back into the bedroom to get dressed. Bakugou was bent over, digging for something under their bed as he packed a bag for work, Kirishima watched him tense as his words sunk in.
“Yeah. I guess so.” His voice was gruff and Kirishima decided not to press his luck.
The week seemed to be looking up. Midoriya and Bakugou were completely civil all day, Kirishima was all caught up on work and didn’t have another patrol until tomorrow. The color was back in Bakugou’s face, and he was lively again. Lively enough to demand that Kirishima come down into the gym with him to spar a bit. Kirishima eagerly agreed and joined a group of their friends as they went to work out. Bakugou stalked downstairs ahead of them, and Kirishima kept an eye on his intense lover as he made small talk with Uraraka and Mina. “Hurry the fuck up, hair for brains!” Bakugou screamed as he pushed into the gym. Kirishima rolled his eyes.
“Sorry girls, I’ll catch up with you later.” He jogged off after his boyfriend.
He ripped off his shirt and changed into shorts before joining Bakugou on the cushy sparring mats. “Anything you want to practice?” Bakugou looked feral, falling into a low crouch with his hands already beginning to spark.
“Gimme your best shot, shitty hair.” Kirishima smiled and felt his heart begin to race as he fell into his fighting stance across from Bakugou. Kirishima barely had a moment to balance himself and activate his quirk before Bakugou leapt at him. He managed to protect his face with his crossed arms and spin away from the blast, but Bakugou just kept coming.
He fell into his rhythm quickly, landing punches where he could, but more than anything just trying to keep from getting any of his extremities blown off. More people filtered into the gym as they fought. No one else was able to use the mats while they were on it, whirling around each other with vicious intensity. There were no punches pulled. Bakugou tried to blow holes through his head, and Kirishima did his best to smack that idiotic smirk off Bakugou’s face. Their first round ended with Kirishima winded, struggling to stay on his feet with Bakugou’s hand tight around his throat. Sweat smeared on his skin and something sparked in Bakugou’s eyes. It lit Kirishima ablaze. “Again.” He croaked.
Bakugou let go of him, took a few steps away and fell back into his stance. Seconds later, they were at it again. Kirishima tried to take the offensive, managing to get under Bakugou’s fiery guard to punch him in the stomach and hook him in the jaw, before he was blown away again. His face was hardened, but his ears rang in agony. He struggled back to his feet, blocking Bakugou’s knee before it could break his cheekbone. His nails raked down Bakugou’s thigh as he shoved him away. Bakugou nearly tripped, and Kirishima was there, punching him in the stomach again and forcing him backwards. But not before a blast knocked Kirishima off his feet yet again.
He slammed back into the mat, spots dancing across his vision chest seizing as he struggled to pull in oxygen. Panic clutched at his throat until the shock passed and he was able to suck in a shuddering breath. He sat up, head still spinning, and stared at the figure Bakugou made at the other end of the mat. Now, his eyes were glowing, smoke steadily pouring from his clawed hands, his lips were pulled into a maniac’s smile. It was one of Kirishima’s favorite sights. “Water.” He croaked, watching Bakugou’s fae relax into a triumph’s smile as he realized he won the round.
Kirishima drank half a bottle of water in one go, relaxed his quirk and rolled the pain out of his shoulders and neck. Even from several paces away, Bakugou’s scent saturated his nose. It was heavy with adrenaline, metallic in Kirishima’s mouth as he panted and tried to steady himself. He wondered what the rest of the gym smelled on them. If they could pick out Bakugou’s underlying scent of omega, if they felt that his alpha scent could overpower Bakugou’s hysteria. Kirishima shook the thoughts away and put down his water. He battled to keep his quirk at bay as he walked onto the mat, adrenaline making it hard to stay loose.
They didn’t have to exchange words to know when the fight was on again. Something flashed in Bakugou’s eyes, Kirishima’s heart rate spiked, and they began circling each other. Bakugou fell into defense. He was terribly cocky and it made Kirishima’s hands twitch. Bakugou wasn’t prepared for Kirishima rushing at him. Kirishima’s guard dropped away, he didn’t use his quirk, and it threw Bakugou off enough for Kirishima to kick his feet out from under him. Bakugou sputtered and tried to stand. Kirishima grabbed the back of his shirt and slung his leg over Bakugou’s hips. Bakugou turned his back to him, and it was over. His arms locked across Bakugou’s chest, knees squeezing around his hips as his chin hooked over Bakugou’s shoulder.
His fists curled in Bakugou’s shirt, pulling it taut around his throat as he pressed him down into the mat. Bakugou’s hands sputtered and coughed pathetic explosions into the mat, a full body shudder rolling through him before something sweet bloomed in the air between them. It hit Kirishima like a blast to the face, the smell choking him and keeping him from realizing Bakugou was tapping out.
He released the choke, and avoided the explosion Bakugou aimed at his face. Kirishima opened his mouth, tasting the burnt sugar in the air as Bakugou stood over him. His face was dark, twisted into something terrifying. Kirishima hadn’t fully processed any of the preceding events before Bakugou was storming from the gym. The burnt sugar faded from the room, and Kirishima was finally able to draw a clean breath of oxygen.
It was only when he turned to drink the rest of his water that he realized every other person in the gym was staring at him. Deku was closest, sitting on the weight bench, stunned and flushed. It was the same look he had given Kirishima when he asked about Bakugou being sick. Before he could ask him what was going on, Mina was in front of him, grabbing his face and almost making him spit out his water.
“Do you have a working nose?”
He swallowed the gulp of water. “What?” He didn’t appreciate the way she was manhandling him.
She flicked his nose hard enough for him to try and take a step back. “Does that fucking work? Do you know how to smell when an omega is going into heat? Or are you purposefully torturing him?”
Kirishima blinked. And then blinked again. The pieces fell into place and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. Guilt and humiliation closed his windpipe, while Mina’s hand dropped from his face. “You’re a moron,” she said. It almost sounded fond. He grabbed his things to run after Bakugou. “Good luck catching him before he leaves you behind.”
~
Bakugou took the car and left him behind, and Kirishima was forced to call a taxi to get home. He tossed a few bills into the front seat, didn’t wait for change, and jogged up to their apartment. Thankfully, he had his own set of keys and was able to let himself in. A cloying smell drowned him the moment he stepped inside the door. It nearly knocked him off his feet, and it took him a moment to recalibrate before he could make his way to the bedroom. It wasn’t the same smell from the gym. In the gym, the omega’s heat sweetness had been tainted by humiliation and anger, making it burn through Kirishima’s nose and mouth. This was just hot and sweet, like warm honey. Kirishima desperately wanted it on his tongue.
He stopped outside the closed door of their bedroom. There was no telling what Bakugou would greet him. Whether he would be raging or needy or something else entirely. Kirishima carefully steeled himself, before trying the doorknob. Bakugou didn’t lock him out at least, and he rehearsed the beginning of his speech before he stepped inside their bedroom.
Only to find the speech was unnecessary. Bakugou was fast asleep in the middle of their bed, face again pressed into Kirishima’s favorite shirt. Even from the doorway, Kirishima could tell that Bakugou’s face was flushed and sweating. Without a doubt, Bakugou would be deep into heat by the time he woke. Kirishima walked over to the bed and sat beside him, trying not to jostle the mattress. When he pressed his fingers to Bakugou’s forehead, he found him burning up again. He reached for his phone and called the agency. With as steady of a voice as possible, he explained the situation.
“Do you think you will need the rest of the week off as well, Kirishima?” Kirishima nearly swallowed his tongue. “Due to the medical circumstances, we are required to offer you the paid leave.”
Kirishima stared down at his sleeping lover, drawing a full breath saturated with his pheromones. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be in for a few days.”
With the phone call out of the way, there was nothing to do but wait. Kirishima spent it pacing beside the bed, overthinking and dragging himself deep into worry. The only other time he had been so worried about doing something with Bakugou was the first time they fucked. His hands and voice shook alike as he nervously asked to top. He tried to console himself with the fact that Bakugou had laughed and said that he’d been dreaming of Kirishima fucking his brains out. Bakugou wanted him, he tried to tell himself, this was no different.
But it was different. First heat meant mating, or attempting to comfort Bakugou through the pain and sickness that came with his unsatiated physiology. Kirishima didn’t know anyone that was mated as young as them, when they were just getting their footing in their careers, when Bakugou was just barely getting over the media backlash toward him for being a male omega. The timing shouldn’t have been right, but for some reason Bakugou’s body sure thought it was.
This was different, because it was Bakugou. Bitchy and bratty enough to demand that two rounds before he was satisfied, who unabashedly made fun of Kirishima’s stroke game when he was a virgin. Kirishima could never imagine him acting like one of those submissive little omegas in the first heat porn he used to watch, mewling and desperate while begging for a knot. The thought had Kirishima’s cock pulsing traitorously. He was already half hard just from smelling Bakugou.
“Stop freaking out, shitty hair.” Bakugou had one eye open, peering up at Kirishima hazily. He was trying to be teasing, but he slurred.
Kirishima drew toward him, feeling distinctly like he was being drawn into an opium den. Dangerous and addictive, but smelling too sweet to stop himself. He sat on the edge of the bed, hand falling heavily beside him as he yearned to touch Bakugou. Bakugou stared up at him, waiting for his next move with a smug smile that made Kirishima ache. Even like this, sitting next to Bakugou was like coming home. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He murmured. He could feel himself leaning closer, something deep and instinctual dragging him into Bakugou. He battled it. Instead of reaching out for his lover, his fingers curled in the sheets, eyes hard as he waited for a response.
“Please don’t tell me you’re going to try and communicate right now,” Bakugou snarled. He shoved at the blankets and clothes tangled around him, kicking them all away and pushing the pillows off the bed after them. His fingers found the edge of his shirt, trying to rip it over his head. “Now is not the time-”
Kirishima grabbed his wrist, forcing him to keep his shirt on. The touch was electric, and Kirishima blinked away a few obscene thoughts as his grip on his lover tightened. The temperature in the room rose, and Bakugou’s stare went even hazier. “You can’t escape this conversation.” Kirishima’s voice was gentle and smooth. Bakugou’s eyes narrowed.
“Are you using your alpha voice on me?”
Kirishima’s hand tightened on him, and he felt his cheeks go hot. “Stop changing the subject. You’re in heat.” His fingers pressed into the crook of Bakugou’s wrist, feeling his pulse speed as more of his cloying scent bloomed through the room. Kirishima’s throat closed, unable to speak on the topic further. It was impossible to say that they would be mated, it was impossible to give Bakugou the option to turn him down when everything in his body was screaming for the boy across from him.
His hand loosened on Bakugou’s wrist, and his fingers flattened across his forearm. There was nothing to say. Their eyes locked as he pressed his hand up Bakugou’s arm. His fingers tripped over the bare skin exposed by the collar of his shirt, naturally falling into the hollow where he could lay a bit. Bakugou’s lips parted as he pressed against it, something in his chest jerked toward him in response. His hand twisted, and he cupped the back of Bakugou’s neck. The omega instinctually relaxed into his grasp, and Kirishima tugged him a bit closer.
There was nothing to say, but when Kirishima leaned close enough to taste Bakugou’s breath, he still couldn’t slot their mouths together. It was Bakugou that pulled them together, hands fisted in the front of Kirishima’s shirt. Teeth clacked before lips met, and Kirishima was pulled into bed, sprawled half on top of Bakugou as he licked into his mouth. Bakugou’s fingers tugged hard in his hair, tongue too deep in Kirishima’s mouth. It was perfect, and set Kirishima at ease immediately.
He pressed his hand to the center of Bakugou’s chest and forced him back to the mattress. His eyes were wide, and his lips were flushed and hot. A single kiss and Bakugou looked wrecked. Kirishima’s belly was alight as he lunged back in for another kiss. He grabbed Bakugou’s jaw, elbow braced beside his head as he tongue fucked his mouth. He wanted more of that debauched look, he wanted Bakugou begging for more after two kisses. Bakugou’s hips hunched up into Kirishima’s stomach, whimpering into the kiss. Kirishima let go of his jaw and pulled away just far enough to lick over the swell of Bakugou’s bottom lip, breathing him in for a second longer before he sat back to admire his work. Bakugou blinked up at him, before scrubbing the saliva from his exaggerated pout. “Jesus fucking Christ, Eijirou.” Kirishima grinned, kissing the point of his jaw as he threw an arm over his eyes. “Will you get on with it?”
Kirishima ignored him and shoved his legs farther apart. He pressed his hands under Bakugou’s shirt and mouthed at his navel. Bakugou’s knees squeezed tighter around his hips. “How does it feel?” He rucked Bakugou’s shirt up to his armpits and leaned down to flick his tongue against his nipple.
Bakugou snorted, still hiding his eyes. “Like if you don’t fuck me this second I’ll die.” Kirishima chuckled, teeth scraping over Bakugou’s nipple before he dragged his shirt all the way off.
“Are you more sensitive than normal?” He grabbed Bakugou’s knee, pressing it up toward his chest to spread him open. Another little whine spilled from Bakugou’s lips.
Bakugou swallowed, before his lips dropped open. He was panting. Kirishima’s cock was aching. “Maybe I’d know if you hurried the fuck up.” His voice shattered into a warbling moan as Kirishima pressed his fingers between his ass cheeks. He pressed at Bakugou’s asshole through two layers of fabric and felt his thighs tense erratically. His mouth was suddenly dry.
He rubbed circles into Bakugou’s hole. “You’re very needy.” Bakugou flipped him off. “It’s cute,” Kirishima murmured. He watched what he could of Bakugou’s face. “You’re acting like a little virgin.” Bakugou groaned, and his leg kicked out as Kirishima jabbed at his hole.
Kirishima pulled his shorts off before leaning over Bakugou again. “It’s really fucking hot.” He mouthed at Bakugou’s throat, and his head rolled to the side. His teeth scraped against the sensitive skin as he grabbed at Bakugou’s cock through his boxers. Bakugou’s arm finally fell away from his eyes as he grabbed desperately for Kirishima’s shoulders. He chuckled and pressed a kiss behind Bakugou’s ear, before leaning away to look at him. “There you are, pretty boy.”
“Shut the fuck up, bastard.” Bakugou’s nose was scrunched up. “Take your clothes off.”
Kirishima rubbed a rough circle over the head of Bakugou’s cock, just to see his eyelids flicker, before pulling away. “Of course.” He tugged off his shirt and yanked off his jeans. When his thumbs hooked into his boxers, he looked back to Bakugou. He had dragged his briefs off, and his hand was around his cock.
Bakugou stared, lips parted as he hid half his face in his shoulder. Kirishima stared back as he pulled on his boxers. They slipped from his hips, and Kirishima swore he saw Bakugou’s cheeks color a bit more. The base of his cock was revealed, and Bakugou started stroking himself. Kirishima reached down and closed his fingers around himself. He paused to battle away his embarrassment before he pulled his cock out. He tried to make a show of it and stroked himself a few times, but he mostly felt like and idiot as he tripped over his own boxers. Bakugou still managed to jerk himself off, giggles dissolving into moans as he spilled across his stomach.
Kirishima grinned. “As sensitive as a virgin,” he said, and climbed back between Bakugou’s legs. Bakugou grumbled, but the impact was minimized as he clutched at his cock and shivered through the last of his orgasm. “How does it feel?” Kirishima asked again, biting down a grin as Bakugou rolled his eyes.
His tongue swiped through the come on Bakugou’s stomach and he stuttered slightly. “Not enough.” Kirishima licked at his stomach again, looking up at Bakugou’s face through his lashes. “I don’t to come again, but if I don’t-” He broke off entirely as Kirishima’s tongue flicked between the fingers wrapped around his cock. It took Bakugou several moments to find his words again as Kirishima licked up the side of his dick, come smearing on his cheek. He sucked at the head of Bakugou’s cock, licking away the last of the come even as Bakugou tried to squirm away. “Please, fuck me.”
Kirishima leaned away with his eyebrows raised. “How polite.” His fingers trailed down the inside of Bakugou’s thigh, feeling the muscle tense before he dipped between Bakugou’s ass cheeks again. He pressed two fingers inside of him with almost no resistance. When he spread his fingers inside of Bakugou there was a loud, wet noise that made Bakugou groan. “Messy.” Kirishima murmured, almost absent minded, as he grabbed Bakugou’s knee and spread him open more.
“Don’t fucking say shit like that.” Bakugou flailed weakly.
“You love it.” Kirishima flashed a smile and kissed the inside of Bakugou’s thigh, before looking down to where his fingers pressed inside of him. His hole was rosy and leaking slick that was beginning to soak into the sheets below him and streak down his thighs.
“You don’t need to fucking prep me, you shithead.” Bakugou’s voice was wavering more steadily now, and Kirishima wanted to hear more of it.
“I like having my fingers inside you.” It was so pathetically heartfelt, Kirishima felt his heart seize as his cheeks flush. Bakugou was thankfully rendered speechless by two more fingers pressing inside of him. For a few moments, the only thing to be heard was Bakugou panting and the sound of Kirishima’s fingers inside him. And then Bakugou was unsatisfied again.
“Aren’t alphas supposed to fuck their omegas when they’re in heat?” Kirishima’s brain shorted out. Lust burned up his spine and made his head feel loose, cock jerking against his stomach as he stared up at Bakugou. It was supposed to just be a bit of dirty talk, but it carried much more weight than that.
Kirishima pressed closer to him, hooking Bakugou’s legs over his shoulders as he grabbed his cock. “Are you my omega?” He asked, mouthing at Bakugou’s sternum as his hips hunched forward. The head of his cock dragged over Bakugou’s hole sloppily.
Bakugou wheezed, one hand clawing down Kirishima’s back, while the other fisted in his hair. “Just as much as you’re my alpha.” Kirishima’s heart skipped a bit, and he pressed his cock inside of Bakugou. “Fuck.” Bakugou groaned, fingers raking down Kirishima’s back as he twitched slightly.
Kirishima eased inside of him until their hips were pressed together. He kept still for several moments, while mouthing at the point of Bakugou’s jaw and rubbing at his sides. His hips twitched without his consent, fucking a little deeper into Bakugou and making his head roll back onto the pillow. His hole clenched, a little whimper wiggled from between his teeth, and he came again between them. Come smeared between their stomachs, as Kirishima panted against his shoulder. Bakugou turned his face into him, nose pressing behind Kirishima’s ear as he murmured, “Eijirou.” It was like a wet dream come to life.
He couldn’t help but laugh. “If only you had been this sweet to me when we first fucked.” Bakugou echoed him, sweaty palms smoothing over the lines he had raked into Kirishima’s shoulders.
“You wouldn’t be as good of a lay, if I hadn’t whipped you into shape.” Bakugou was smiling up at him fondly when Kirishima grabbed the backs of his thighs. He pressed Bakugou’s knees forward, until they were nearly touching his shoulders. Kirishima got to watch as the panic spread across Bakugou’s face, his chest compressed enough that it was difficult to breathe, before Kirishima’s hips started to roll. Then the panic dissolved into something much prettier.
While pleasure boiled steadily in the cup of Kirishima’s hips, he was able to watch Bakugou’s eyes roll back, little grunts fucked out of him as he fought to draw a full breath. His fingernails burrowed into Bakugou’s thighs, making him a bit whiney as his hole squeezed sporadically around Kirishima’s cock, as if he couldn’t get used to the stretch, even in the throes of heat. His cock was pulsing, already feeling strangely tender and swollen. It made his eyes sting as he thrusted into his lover. “You want my knot, baby?” Bakugou didn’t even have enough awareness to make fun of his dirty talk, all he could find in himself to do was whimper, fingers tangled in the sheets as his feet bounced in the air.
A white hot coil extended from his belly, wrapping around the base of his cock and making him groan. His knot was starting to swell, and Bakugou’s voice went high and needy as he continued to fuck him. Kirishima’s chest was tight, pulse thrumming in his ears as his orgasm burned hot behind his eyes. It took him a few moments to realize Bakugou was speaking, repeating “I want it” over and over again. He thrusted forward one last time groaning roughly, and felt his knot expand fully inside of Bakugou. The flood of his orgasm was set to the music of Bakugou’s wail, as more come spilled between them. Kirishima let go of Bakugou’s knees, hands falling to the mattress to brace himself as he shook through the last of his orgasm. Simulation licked up and down his nerves steadily, egged on by Bakugou’s hole rippling around him.
Bakugou’s flush was still high and hot, but he seemed calmer. He was debauched and beautiful, laid out across their bed like a prince. Kirishima tried to maneuver them into a slightly more comfortable position, but ultimately gave up when Bakugou’s petulant whining became too much. Kirishima laid down on top of him, not caring about the come getting all over him as he pressed his face into the crook of Bakugou’s throat.
He smiled as he smelled him. “What?” Bakugou asked, still slurring slightly.
“You smell more like me now.” He grinned, and watched Bakugou shy away slightly.
He pulled Kirishima closer, pressing his nose against his throat to scent him. “You smell more like me,” Bakugou said. He sounded proud and possessive. It made Kirishima’s heart race.
They laid together for a while longer, quiet and content. Bakugou held onto Kirishima’s shoulder, while his fingers traced lazily over Bakugou’s sweaty chest and throat. His pointer and middle finger again laid where a mating mark would fall and he tilted his head. “Do you like the marking thing?”
Bakugou snorted. “Why? You want me to advertise that I’m not on the market?”
Kirishima rolled his eyes. “You are a hot piece of omega ass.” Bakugou smacked him.
Then he became serious, eyes dark as they landed on Kirishima’s face. He reached out to place his fingers at the juncture of Kirishima’s throat and neck as well. “I like when alphas wear the mark of their omega.” Kirishima swallowed, then smiled.
It had shaped up to be an alright week after all.