Cookie Crumbs · dkbk/bkdk

Kisses - Fluff

Katsuki Bakugou.

Hero.

Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.

No matter the name, he emanated power, strength. Katsuki was a powerful man, somewhat flawless in his heroic technique and prowess. Aside from his emotional constipation, incline to anger, inflated ego and inferiority/superiority complex, he was otherwise perfect. Hell, maybe he was perfect even with those flaws; many would attest to it as true.

He was physically fit, healthy and attractive. He was the epitome of strength.

So you'd assume how he'd respond to the usual questions during interviews of "𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴?".

Seriously? Weakness? Him? The Katsuki Bakugou? Don't be ridiculous.

He'd watch his friends respond to these types of questions with jokes or cutesy things like when Kirishima said "𝘗𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘺, 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦!" before smiling to his wife or Monma cackled before grinning maliciously at the camera knowing damn well Shinsou was behind it, musing "𝘉𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘨𝘦".

Todoroki would deadpan something about cold soba and Iida would go on a Ted Talk variant of a lesson on the types of weather that could hurt his engines and how he took care of them. Ochako would say spiders, Tsu would say cold.

And Izuku would mumble something about bones.

All harmless, all amusing, all somewhat true in some regard. But Dynamight?

He'd smirk to the camera with a deep chuckle, crossing his arms triumphantly over his chest. It was always the same response. "Absolutely [REDACTED] nothing, extras."

Because fucking nothing was his weakness. So what if the cold got to him and the rain annoyed the utter fuck out of him, those weren't weaknesses. They were things he could fix or adapt to. And they didn't count.

But, from where he was now, he figured maybe this counted. Just...maybe.

With Izuku's arms around him from behind, thick scarred fingers brushing back the baby hairs at his neck, eliciting goosebumps before lips were chasing that feeling. Katsuki figured; maybe Katsuki, Dynamite or Bakugou didn't have a weakness but Kacchan sure as hell did.

The same Kacchan that got trapped in Izuku's arms every night feeling his lips on his neck the way he enjoyed. Be it at the back of his neck when they watched a movie, feeling him trace the curve up to his axis and atlas with soft lips.

Or, perhaps, beneath his jaw, directly beneath the bone with a gentle nip of teeth when he couldn't kiss him in the area they were in. He particularly melted into those, feeling the ghost of stubble on the pro hero's face over the sensitive skin of his throat, reveling in the feeling of his gentlest bite.

Or, even, against his own lips when he opened his mouth into gentle gasps when he felt him on top of him.

And then his cheek, quick and chaste in passing but with the longing for contact.

To the insides of his thighs or over his hips, pressing firmly over ticklish areas he'd mapped out by heart.

Beneath and over his chest, open mouthed over his ribs, tracing the scar on his shoulder.

Maybe just on his lips alone.

Kisses.

Fucking stupid, sweet, gentle, maybe sometimes rough, kisses by soft lips that often tasted like coffee, mint toothpaste or cherry chapstick, with the freckle directly over the top to the right of his cupids-bow.

"Kacchan." The deepness of a sleep riddled voice, legs slotting between his own, arms hooking beneath his. Hands, god, those hands over his stomach. Large, protective, warm, tracing lazily over the line of his abdomen beneath his shirt. "Where's your mind, sweetheart?"

Such an endearing name for someone so exuberant, so sweet, so unlike the blonde who earned it from his lips. Izuku was the cliched husband, forever using sweet endearments and gentle touches to coax his lover's attention.

"On you." Katsuki yawns, stretching out further on the couch, eyes refocusing on the movie after tearing away from the darkened window he was previously staring out of. "Your lips. It's fucking stupid."

Izuku laughs, adjusting him on his lap, pulling him closer and nuzzling his nose into the side of his neck. His lips move behind his ear as he speaks, tone reverberating into Katsuki's ears. "What about them?"

"They weaken me."