Snowed In

Part 15

Kirishima is gentle. Where he put bruises last time, he creases Bakugou's skin as if in apology for leaving them, to the point Bakugou feels he might need to reassure him that their previous night was exactly what he wanted, what they both had asked for, and there was no reason to say sorry for that.

Still, he moves slowly. In the lighting, he admires him. Work-rough hands moving along his thighs, his hips, looking too large in Bakugou's own eyes.

It's nice. Kirishima kisses him anytime he asks and more. He leaves him gasping, arching up under his every touch as if they had fallen in bed like this more times than they had any right to. He keeps trying to push his way up, to tell Kirishima he too was deserving of letting someone else take control, but Kirishima quiets him with a kiss. With a gentle thumb running over his cheek, lips, neck. He says that Bakugou's done more than enough to deserve an extra present.

Even if it feels good, even if Kirishima leaves him breathless, leaves him clinging to the sheets with a sharp cry as he comes, as he's fucked past that point until he feels like he might come again, still soft, just from the feeling of Kirishima and how perfectly he fills him up, stretches him, drives into him like Bakugou's the only thing that matters--

There's panic under his skin. Bubbling up in his stomach, a feeling of dread that leaves him a little dizzy with the combination of sex and lack of breath. He tries to ignore it, focus solely on the sensation of Kirishima holding him, fingering him, fucking him.

It works for a while. He's learned how to keep up pretenses well even if he's internally falling apart. Kirishima knows nothing of the turmoil going on inside of him, only the high blush on his cheeks and the moans coming from his lips as they finally collapse onto the bed, tangled in the sheets, panting.

It's good. Bakugou's body is humming with the afterglow of orgasm, overly warm and sticky in Kirishima's arms as they shift until pillows are beneath their heads and the sheets mostly cover their bodies.

And then Kirishima holds him. Wraps his arms around Bakugou's waist to pull him in, presses right up against his back and nuzzles into his hair, peppering more kisses at his neck. Everything about it being warm, intimate. Their bodies touch from head to toe without a barrier in the way. He can feel as Kirishima's chest expands at his back, his heart beating, the way his fingertips just brush his stomach, uncaring of how messy they both might be.

"Goodnight."

Bakugou feels as though he might suffocate if Kirishima holds him any longer. He doesn't move.

"Goodnight."

---

As soon as he closes his eyes, he knows what will happen. Bakugou would be an idiot to think otherwise; as though he were good enough to push aside his past trauma like it didn't make up his entire life, every choice made in an fruitless attempt to do better under the mask of healing.

He's a liar.

When he wakes up, he's shaking. Sitting up in bed already, panting hard as his limbs shake without his command to do so, sweat beading down his back, his legs stick to the sheets, breathing out of control.

"Hey--"

Bakugou feels a hand at his back and immediately twists, slapping it away and in the process almost tumbles from the bed as he jerks to escape. He catches himself though, still trying to catch his breath, as he stares back at Kirishima looking with wide eyes at him in the dark.

They look worried. Scared. Lost.

Bakugou doubts he looks any better, more wild probably, like an animal trapped in a corner knowing the only thing he could possibly do now was strike out.