Chapter Text
It’s not news that Katsuki Bakugou it’s a walking time bomb. Since very young those around him had to become well versed in the art of dealing with his angry shenanigans. Having been a stuck-up kid and a defiant teenager, he had been a true pain in the ass to his colleagues and teachers. Aizawa surely had his place in heaven guaranteed after all his shit, not to mention Izuku, of course. However, Bakugou had outgrown that by now. Kind of. Sure, the short temper was still an ever so present part of his personality, only that now it lacked the anger and guilt behind it.
His close friends, god forbid they hear that from him, were the ones who knew that Bakugou was all bark and no bite. For the public, though, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight was an unstoppable force who left no stones unturned in order to destroy his enemies. Not that Bakugou wouldn’t do everything he could to achieve his goals, whatever these were at the moment, but only a few ones truly knew how caring and gentle he could be under that facade. Dynamight was a persona, an easy mask to put on and both get his job done and blow off some steam.
Although it was efficient, it wasn’t one hundred percent effective.
Bakugou had long atoned for his sins, he knew that. He and Izuku were on good terms, settled again as best friends like when they were children. The war was over, he got his autograph from All Might after ranting about how insufferable he was with him, apologized to Aizawa sensei for being such a brat and showed his gratitude towards his colleagues by being present to all their accomplishments, even if it meant dealing with a bunch of drunk newly graduated pro heroes.
He made sure to be present at every marriage, promotion party, house opening, baby shower, birthdays and so on, bringing the best gifts and fine wines along, naturally. Sometimes he would even participate in their stupid board games nights, quietly snorting at their bickerings while sipping warm beer.
Still, no matter what he did, Bakugou couldn’t brush off that guilty feeling in his guts. The tormenting prodding in the back of his mind, a constant reminder of his past mistakes. There was always a voice reminding him how unbearable he was and how he didn’t deserve any of the calmness he worked so hard for. So, as the years went by and the once 1-A went their separate ways into the hero field, Bakugou was left with his Dynamight persona as his main outlet, which again, could only do much for his nerves.
Three years in, Bakugou gave up.
It was an accident, really. One day, after a particularly stressful patrol, Bakugou saw a peculiar half-assed bar and fuck it, right? He has had a pretty shitty day after three pretty shitty years, was a pretty shitty person and deserved a pretty shitty beer in a dubious bar. And if he ended in a couple, also pretty shitty, beds with half-assed lays? It was a mere consequence of his own actions.
After all, that’s what he deserves.
Bakugou’s stress levels were over the roof in the last few days. His office desk had so many report papers on top of it that you couldn’t see the dark wood top anymore and his agency kept sending him more and more. Apparently there’s been some dark shit happening lately that had the Commission involved, who sent the couple undergrounds that were running around and causing everyone’s terrible headaches. Who would have guessed pro hero duty required such long office hours.
Bakugou pinched the bridge of his nose, huffing angrily. A quick glance at the wall clock confirmed his fear. Another shift ended and he still couldn’t see the color of his desk. Honestly, Bakugou couldn’t care to keep it organized anymore, heavens knows he tried to in the first days.
Groaning loudly as he stretched his sore back, the blond stood and went to the agency's bathroom to start his not so new routine. Patrol during the day, update his paperwork afterwards, end his shift. Take a long shower, change into his spare civilian clothes he had for times like this, head to his car and choose the fishy bar of the day. Fine bars were for the good days, when he wanted good alcohol or at least didn’t plan to end up on a cheap mattress, away from the media.
He drove mindlessly across the city, too distracted to realize he was headed to the place where all of this started a year ago. Bakugou hasn’t been here for ages and it seemed fit for him to come back after a week of being stuck on burdensome hero work. Maybe this could do for today.
This one wasn’t particularly big and stank of cheap booze and piss. Perfect. Sitting on one of the vacant chairs next to the counter, the blond asked the ever tired looking bartender for anything strong they had and took his time to look around. The place was as apathetic as the first time he had set foot there, only a handful of awkward drunks sipping their drinks. It was a mystery how this place was still running. Perhaps they were hiding from the world as well.
“–day?” Bakugou blinked at the bartender who gave a faint smile in response. A glass with something and two ice cubes stared back at him, mysterious and inviting. Bakugou didn’t care enough to ask what the man had said, instead settling with reaching for the glass and feeling the coldness on his fingertips. “I suppose yes, then. Haven’t seen you in a while”, the man added.
The blond hummed, bringing the glass to his lips and taking a long sip. The strong scent of alcohol and the burning sensation down his throat was enough to ease him in what was to come, his eyes fluttering shut in approval. “Whiskey, huh” he murmured to himself. Being remembered by a bartender who he couldn’t even picture the face was embarrassing and somewhat arousing at the same time. The weary man was long gone by the time Bakugou searched for him.
Bakugou calmly drank his whiskey, enjoying how the voices in his head tuned down with each sip. Something about being in a dubious place like this felt… Right. His cock throbbed in his pants, already eager for action. One drink turned into two that turned into three, the exhilarating numb feeling in his lips sending shivers down his spine. He has had enough alcohol to feel slightly tipsy but maintain his cool, which meant that the first stage was clear.
The bar was a bit loaded now that he looked around again. Things weren’t that apathetic, after all. A lot of faces he has never seen before seemed to have been already ogling him, some of them even smirking when caught. Easy. Too easy. Bakugou didn’t want easy today, he wanted a fight. Needed to earn it fair and square. Peeking at the extras sitting by the counter, he found one that actually caught his attention.
The man was tall, maybe taller than Bakugou himself, given that he was leaning into the counter with his head sitting on top of a large hand. He had a dark sleeveless sweatshirt with the hoodie on, some violet locks poking out being a good contrast to the ostentation of tattoos over his arms. Tracing down his broad body, Bakugou spotted a pair of worn loose jeans with gigantic holes at the knees, so fucking big one could think the man picked it up from a hit and run victim. Squinting his eyes he saw that under these ugly ass jeans he had fucking fishnet stockings on. The overall look made the blond scowl but fuck if he didn’t like that.
The man sat there quietly sipping his beer. Bakugou couldn’t see his face from the side but his body was rather entertaining itself. He wished he could see his throat bobbing as he swallowed, though. The blond peacefully watched as the other finished his drink, sliding the empty glass on the counter and raising his arm to ask for another. Bakugou’s lips tilted upwards smugly.
He jumped off his seat and marched towards his target, each step bursting with determination. “This one‘s on me,” he told the bartender with a cocky smile. The man shrugged and went on with his job, unfazed. Bakugou stood beside the tall man, leaning on the counter on his elbow.
Looking closely he could see the variety of tattoos that covered the other’s hands and how his long fingers were adorned with multiple silver rings. Bakugou wondered how bad these would sting against the skin of his ass, striking firm and fast. He certainly would do it, judging by his looks. He probably hit as tough as he looked. Maybe he would even grace the blond with a new collar, wrapping his fingers around his throat and slowly tightening his hold, turning Bakugou to a gasping mess–
“Since when you pay for stranger’s drinks?”
Huh.
Bakugou’s garnet eyes shoot upwards, meeting familiar violet ones. Way too familiar ones.
“No way,” the cockyness replaced with a frow, “No fucking way.”
Shinsou ugly snorted at Bakugou’s scandalized expression, thanking the bartender that had come back with another beer. He slurped on it as loud as he could, keeping his glaze on the blond’s twitching eyes. “Thought you would eye fuck me the whole night, Bakugou,” he sneered.
“Do not–,” Bakugou gritted through his teeth, “I wasn’t eye fucking you, you dipshit!”
“Sure wasn’t.” Shinsou had this smug smile on his face that made Bakugou’s skin crawl. He slightly petted the chair beside him and waited a few seconds for an answer. “Or perhaps you prefer to stand?”, he asked.
“Fuck off,” the blond growled but sat anyway. Shinsou kept slurping his beer, delighted by Bakugou’s growing anger. “What are you, a fucking child?” the blond grumbled.
“Mhhmm,” Shinsou hummed, “You see, a hot blond paid for my drink tonight. I thought I should show my appreciation.”
“Oh, for fucks sakes,” Bakugou groaned burying his face into his palms, “Why the hell are you even here?”
“I should be the one asking that,” he said, “Here's not a place for someone like you.”
“Someone like me, huh?” Bakugou straightened his back, staring at Shinsou’s violet eyes, “What does that even mean? Your bar’s too good for lil’ ol’ me?”
Shinsou pointed a finger at him, doing small circles in the air, “You’re too good to be here,” his eyes lazily traced Bakugou’s body head to toe, “You’re too pretty.”
Time seemed to stop as Shinsou openly savored the blond’s body, eyes half lidded and pensive smile. “Fuck off, eyebags,” was all Bakugou managed to mutter under his breath. He hoped Shinsou couldn’t see his ears turning pink. Or that he could. His head spun.
Looking around, the wary bartender was still boringly cleaning glasses and keeping the bar tidy, nodding casually at the clients and handing their drinks with expertise. Bakugou mindlessly thought about how long he must have been working here, doing the same tasks everyday and dealing with the same old drunks. Had he ever, as a spectator, paid any attention to his customers? Had he ever wondered how their houses might be? Their lives? Perhaps these fat drunkards had families, wives, maybe they even had kids at home. Bakugou squinted in disgust.
“Are you seriously eye fucking the poor bartender now?”
“I’m not– What are you doing here, really? What do you want from me?” Shinsou’s expression mocked Bakugou’s exasperated one, sipping on his half full beer.
“And why aren’t you on some five star bar with at least three playboy girls hanging by your strong arms?” Shinsou threw back, “or playboy guys, maybe.” Bakugou snorted and reached for the other’s beer, unanswering Shinsou who went on, “Well, I’m here because I’ve been here since ever. It was close to my clearly stable home and didn’t ask for my UID. Also, I like it a little dirty.” he added “You?”
As expected, Bakugou said nothing.
“Welp! Let me see…” Shinsou half laid on the counter, turning to the blond and making an exaggerated thinking expression, “Your home might not’ve been the most healthy one but surely wasn’t unstable enough for you to need places like these and you’ve always been this stuck up nerd who would go to bed at 8pm and have top grades, which means…”
“Why on earth would you wear these ugly jeans with fishnet stockings under?” Bakugou muttered.
“Say it, sweetheart. You like it a little dirty.”
“I’m not your fucking sweetheart” he blushed, face angry meeting Shinsou’s amused one.
“Oh, you like it a lot dirty?”
Bakugou glared at the other, unsuccessfully trying to intimidate him into shutting the hell up. To be honest, the blond didn’t want him to shut up. His voice was annoyingly soothing, oddly arousing even. It made him remember his cock was still half hard and still very eager for something. Anything, really. And Shinsou was more than anything at the moment.
You had to be blind to not see how much he had grown. His body was fuller, muscles defined after long years of training and underground missions. His hair was longer, apparently half tied judging by what Bakugou could see under the hoodie. The horrendous, gigantic holes at his jeans showed a bit of his defined thigh muscles and, paying more attention, Bakugou could see a peak of the fishnet stockings on Shinsou’s abs when he moved.
Bakugou was full back on the eye fucking agenda. Ugh.
Shinsou, on the other hand, had one brow arched while he sipped his beer. Watching Bakugou struggle was more entertaining than he thought it would be, and, judging by the bulge in the blond’s pants, it could be even more. “Y’know,” he started, “Puff all you want but you still haven’t left. Knowing you for quite some time now, I know for sure that if you were truly annoyed you would have gone ages ago.” Bakugou simply eyed him under blond, spiky lashes. “You’re clearly looking for something that I have. Under my ugly jeans and fishnet stockings, that is.”
Bakugou snorted, leaning on the counter over his crossed arms. “What makes you think I want to be anywhere near that cock of yours? I bet it’s tiny, anyways.”
“Everything’s small next to that ass, kitty kat. We can totally bet it if you want, though.” he shrugged, unbothered.
“Did you just–”
Shinsou rolled his eyes, swiftly grabbing Bakugou by the chin and staring right into his garnet eyes, “Shut up.”
Time stopped. Bakugou’s heart started racing, pumping blood south as fast as humanly possible. Shinsou’s rings were cool against his burning cheeks, his hold steady. The blond’s mind quickly turned to a pleasant buzz, empty all of a sudden. Embarrassing. “Huh. Didn’t peg you for a sub, but I guess it suits you. Brat.”
“Don’t–”
“Oh, shush already.”
Shinsou squeezed Bakugou’s cheeks, forcing his lips into an awkward pout. He lazily studied his burning hot face, dragging his fingertips over the blond’s mouth. Keeping his hold, Shinsou slowly guided his hand towards his spiky hair, freely feeling it for the first time ever. “Hmn,” he hummed, “soft,” he said as he tucked a pale lock behind Bakugou’s ear. “Yeah, that’ll do.”
All Bakugou could hear was the rapidly growing beats of his heart, as well as the ache inside his now very much tight pants. Mouth hanging open as some kind of expensive koi fish, watching the other finally finish his beer in one long gulp. His legs were now parted, half hard erection on display for Bakugou to ogle. “I would absolutely love to destroy you, kitty kat. If you want that, of course, which, let’s be honest, you totally do. People don’t usually eye fuck me for nothing.”
“Fuck. Fuck you.” The blond rubbed his neck and face, squeezing his scalp on the way. “Oh, fuck you very much. All the way, fuck you.”
“I sure would, all the way.”
“I hate you. I seriously hate you.”
Exhilarating. Thrilling, even. Pure, dangerous adrenaline. Shinsou pushed his seat closer to Bakugou, grabbing a handful of the hair close to his scruff and pulled it. “I would make you lick my boots clean,” he whispered in his ear, “Make you wipe every single grit with that sharp tongue of yours, put it to good use for once. Play with your pride a little, maybe torn some barks out of you. Do you know how to bark, kitty kat? How to be a good little boy?” Bakugou full body shuddered, “Or do I need to teach you that too?”
“Fuck, like I would ever do that to you, dipshit–” Shinsou pulled his hair harder, making Bakugou moan under his breath and Shinsou scoff, “Shit, just don’t do it like that, ow– how strong are you?”
“Not everyone has a flashy quirk to rely on, sweetheart. But don’t worry, I know exactly how to use my hard gained gifts.”
This was getting way too real. Bakugou huffed.
“Let me go, eyebags.”
“Last time I checked I had a name.”
“Seriously, fuck off–”
Shinsou pulled Bakugou’s hair hard enough to expose his neck, licking all the way up from the base till next his ear. Bakugou half groaned-half moaned, standing up exasperated and tipping his seat over. Some of the talking nearby toned down, the slightly sober drunkards turning their heads to both of them. Shinsou tipped his head backwards, eyes half lidded, and licked his lips, savoring the lingering taste. “That’ll do perfectly, kitty kat. I guess you can take me home, then.”
“You fucker, when I put my hands on you I swear I’ll rip that smug smile out of your weird, wicked face for good.” The blond grabbed Shinsou’s collar, angrily gritting between his teeth. “I would love to see that, kitty kat,” he answered unbothered.
“Is everything alright here?”
The ever tired, now just slightly worried, bartender asked in his monotone voice, still cleaning a glass cup. His face said nothing, but Bakugou had seen him throw cups at quarrelsome drunks for way less. Taking one last look at Shinsou, the blonde cleared his throat and slapped some bills from his wallet on the counter. “We’re leaving,” he announced without looking back. If Shinsou decided to not follow him he could always keep this moment in his forever spank bank and no one would ever believe the creepy bastard if he tried to tell anyone. Safe.
Bakugou stormed off the bar, adjusting his pants and ignoring the out of tune whistles. He didn’t park right in front, given that such a sports car too close to a place like that would certainly raise suspicions, so he hoped the short walk to his car would clear his head.
Needless to say it didn’t. His cock was throbbing more than ever and his thoughts spiralling. He couldn’t even deny his hope to turn around and see the bastard walking towards him with that stupid smug face, hands carefully placed on his pockets. Half hard cock, maybe. Bakugou had never imagined himself in this situation, dreaming about eyebag’s dick. That’s definitely a new low for him. Groaning, the blond stood next to his car and kicked the tire out of spite.
“Ouchies.”
Bakugou didn’t need to look back to see that Shinsou was standing exactly like he pictured, but he still slightly turned around. Just to be sure. “You came,” he said.
“Not yet, I’m afraid.” came as a response, ripping an unexpected snort out of Bakugou, who leaned his back on the car and crossed one arm over his stomach while the other pinched the bridge of his nose. “Smart to not park right in front, but not far away for people not to guess you were there. Sweet ride, though,” Shinsou added.
He took advantage of the blond’s closed eyes to swiftly trap his body against the car, grabbing his waist. “Although, I must say I think it’s very rude to leave me behind. Imagine if I wasn’t so fast and incredibly smart to find you? What a loss.”
Bakugou blinked at the taller man, not taking his hand out of his face but adjusting his legs so that Shinsou stood in between them, “You would be a terrible underground hero then, I guess.”
Shinsou shrugged, not caring to reply. Instead, he stood even closer to Bakugou’s body, rubbing their erections against each other and roaming his long fingers around the blond’s abs, cold silver rings tracing circles over his warm skin, under his shirt. In the meantime, profound indigo eyes studied his embarrassed expressions, seeking out for more and squinting at Bakugou’s restrained groans. “What you staring at?” the blond grumbled.
“I was just trying to get under your skin with the kitty kat thing, but it strangely suits you. Both personality and looks.” He rose his hands on Bakugou’s waistline and squeezed, squinting. “Why is your waist so small?”
“The hell if I know,” Bakugou retorted, “That’s what you interested in? My fucking waist?”
“No, sweetheart, I’m way more interested in this right here,” Shinsou slyly answered, palming the blond’s throbbing cock over his pants. Bakugou’s weak grunt was a delight to hear, his drunken attempts to hold Shinsou’s hand being the cherry on top. “Tell me you don’t want this, Bakugou.”
“No,” he gritted.
“Tell me you want it, then. Previous clear consent gets me going,” Shinsou joked.
Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but Bakugou caught himself thinking. He’s been exhausted, drained, thoroughly fatigued beyond the acceptable levels of discomfort and, to be honest, he has never had a reputation for having control over what he says or does. He hasn’t had a good lay in years, atoning for his sins in what felt like forever, jumping from nasty bed to nasty bed, with even nastier men. However, this man right here could treat him right. Rile him up exactly how he liked it, make him come hard and still humiliate him through it. Seemed like a good deal.
Even so, Bakugou was a little shit.
“Make me.”
“Oh. Is that so?” Shinsou moved his hand from the blond’s dick, holding his waist instead. He gently caressed the soft skin under his fingers, studying Bakugou’s body under the darkness of the hood covering his own purple disheveled hair. “What should I do now, then,” he sang to himself.
Bakugou’s snicker died quickly as Shinsou walked away from him, hands in his pockets and a smug ass smile on his face. Anger started replacing the confusion as the bastard's smile grew wider. “You’re shitting me,” the blond grumbled.
Shinsou threw his hands in the air, innocently tipping his head. “Don’t blame me for this one, kitty kat. I like a good old brat but I ain’t starting anything without clear consent.” Bakugou puffed, running his hands across his face and pushing his hair backwards, until his hands rested on top of his shoulders, “You’re so fucking lame, eyebags.”
“I have my rules,” he shrugged.
“How much more clearer you want me to be, mindfreak?” Bakugou pointed down with his chin, staring back at Shinsou’s vile smile.
“Crystal.” He answered simply. “You have such a pretty voice, sweetheart.”
The purple-haired man stepped closer to the blond still leaned on the car, chin high and voice low as a curse. “What’s it gonna be? I have absolutely no problem in going back in and finding someone else, y’know. Or do you really think you’re the only available slut out there?”
Shinsou was looking down on him, all possible ways. Challenging him, savoring his reactions. Clearly, a trap. One Bakugou was falling right into it, head first. One he had fallen already, to be frank. The bastard shrugged, prepping to turn around and leave when Bakugou hooked one finger in his waistband. “Wait, you fucker, just… If we’re gonna do it, call me Katsuki,” the blond breathed, a mischievous smile growing on his blushed face, “I wanna hear you say it.”
Shinsou leaned over Bakugou, hands back on his pockets, and spoke quietly in the cup of his ear “We’re not doing anything until you say you want it, nicely. C’mon, I’ll even call you a good boy after.”
Bakugou threw his head back on the car, neck exposed and face hot, panting. The whiskey sat heavily on his empty stomach, setting all of his nerves on fire. He stayed until now and had put up with much worse before, the only thing making this harder was the fact that he knew Shinsou for too long and would see him again some day. “You’re gonna remember all that,” he stated.
“Every single part of it,” came back as a whisper.
Bakugou laughed, cupping Shinsou’s face on both hands, boring into the deep violet sea. “Do it. Grab me. Touch me. See if I care. But call me Katsuki,” he huffed, “please.”
“Crap, you’re adorable, aren’t you? Good boy, Katsuki.”
Bakugou arched his back and openly moaned, smashing their mouths together in a desperate and hungry kiss. They rubbed against each other with increasing force, Shinsou finally massaging Bakugou’s dick like he meant it, making the blond whine in their now open mouthed kiss. There was not a single soft thing about it either, it was aggressive, both of them long gone and it was good.
Their making out session got heavier and heavier, wet slurping sounds reverberating across the empty street while their kisses deepened and moans increased. The purple-haired bastard’s hands felt amazing running through Bakugou’s body and junk, moving with purpose and pushing him more and more to the edge.
His mind buzzled, his skin burned, his cock throbbed inside his tight, tight, pants. Every touch lighted him up like gasoline. Bakugou would do anything to have more of this.
“I want you to come in your pants, kitty kat,” Shinsou cagey whispered, words charged with tense, “Can you do that for me?”
“What?” Bakugou groaned, searching sideways for any witness to their clearly law breaking public makeout session. “Here? You want me to come now?” he asked, brows furrowed, “You can’t be serious.”
Shinsou skillfully caressed Bakugou’s jaw line, his thumb bobbing up and down with each hard swallow of the blond, as his fingertips sent shivers down the other’s spine. His indigo eyes were half lidded, darker than they really were due the hood Shinsou still had on. The corner of his lips were curled upwards in a truly devious smile. “I want you to drive home with your pants full of jizz, sweetheart.” Shinsou blurted, “You can do that for me, can’t you?”
“You’re seriously gonna make me drive home alone, Hitoshi?”
“I like Hitoshi.” Shinsou played with Bakugou’s zipper, holding eyes with him. “So? I swear the rings will feel even better.”
Bakugou looked around once more, out of breath and strength. “Shit, I can, yes, yes, take it out, please, please take it out–”
“Yes, kitty kat, that’s more like it.”
Shinsou opened the zipper and fished the blond’s cock out, promptly circling the head with his thumb and kissed him with vigor. They moved together in an almost practiced sync. Shinsou used his long fingers to circle the blond’s girth, making him whine in his littleness. He was very proud of what he carried, don’t get it wrong, but the appeal of feeling small in those hands was just chef kiss. The way they moved, the way they grabbed him, was a life changing experience.
He wondered if he would ever be able to go back.
Shinsou brought his hand to Bakugou’s face, who spit a large glob of saliva in it and brought his pelvis further forward, making more room for the other to explore him. The hand, now slicked up, glided with ease and experience, mixing saliva with pre-cum. Harder down, slighter up. Around the glans. Down his balls. The street lights were blinding, his head swimming in the heat which burned all over his body, especially his core. Bakugou panted, eyes darting between Shinsou’s visible cloudy-pants in the cold air and darkened eyes. His pupils were big but so were his own, he supposed.
“Faster, shit–”
“Manners, please.”
“Hitoshi,” Bakugou choked.
“Katsuki,” Shinsou mocked. He bit the blond’s rosy lips, licking inside his mouth. “Say it.”
“I’m almost–” he tried to move, fuck into the purple-haired’s hands, with no success. “Oh god, please you fucker, I just–”
“God might be a bit too much for me, but,” he bit the base of Bakugou’s neck, “I like the please.”
Shinsou’s hand fastened its pace, gripping tighter, while his other hand moved underneath Bakugou’s pants to squeeze his ass. The final straw was when he moved his hand closer to the blond’s asshole, spreading his asscheeks apart.
Bakugou silently screamed into the purple-haired mouth, his head hitting the car with a thud and his shaky hands blindly grabbing anything he could find. Shinsou’s hood fell as Bakugou finally creamed his pants.
It was all too much. Too good. Too humiliating. Too satisfying. Bakugou vibrated from inside out as his orgasm ripped through him like lightning, back arched and body convulsing. He saw white.
His legs wobbled under his weight, overstimulation hitting as Shinsou kept pressing his glans with his thumb. “Shit, shit, shit, stop– ah! Fucker,” he breathed out as Shinsou squeezed his waist again to support his weight. “You’re so fucking hot, d’yknow that? Shit, I almost came just by watching you squirm.”
“Shut up, eyebags. Ugh, I already feel it cooling down, I hate you.”
“You did come a lot, Katsuki. I’m so proud,” the purple-haired man laughed softly, shamelessly cleaning his cummed hand on Bakugou’s underwear. “Almost got me, by the way. Rude.”
“No more Katsuki for you, you lost first name privileges.”
“Do you prefer kitty kat or sweetheart, then?”
“Die.”
“Should I try another one? What do you think of baby?” Bakugou ugly snorted, pushing Shinsou’s chest to get room to get himself dressed again. “Yeah, ok, no baby then. Damn, I’m running out of options here.”
“That’s all you can think of?”
“These are my favorites.”
“Dumbass,” Bakugou snorted.
Both took a minute to readjust, their laughs visible as small clouds. Bakugou pulled a face while zipping up his pants, his come chilly against his skin, while Shinsou groaned softly, rubbing his neck. “What you groaning at? Don’t seem like you got frozen pants to me,” the blond asked.
“Sorry, baby, my neck kinda hurts. I guess a feral cat scratched it,” he fake pouted, “If you had choked me just a little more…” Bakugou only wrinkled his nose in disgust, as Shinsou went on “And Marlon thought you were off to kill me or something, poor guy.”
“Who the fuck is Marlon?” the blond asked while going around the car and unlocking it. “Stupid ass name.”
“Sure, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, whatever you say. Marlon’s just the bartender who’s been putting up with your bullshit, I guess.”
“His name’s Marlon?” He swung the door open.
Shinsou grimaced. “Christ, you didn’t know his name?”
“I forget your name sometimes, mindfreak, let alone his. So–”
“You forget my name?”
“–So just get in the car. Unless,” Bakugou fastened the seat belt and rolled down the passenger window, “You’re tired already, baby.”
Shinsou arched one brow, looking genuinely intrigued before coming back to his usual smug. “Baby, uh? You’re gonna get me spoiled, kitty kat.”