Long Time Coming

That's My Style

Katsuki pulled Eijirou closer, gasping as those razor teeth delicately traced the curve of his ear, Eijirou's tongue laving for a moment before dropping to the juncture right at the corner of his jaw.

"Fuck, Kirishima-" Bakugou groaned as the redheads hips ground into his, the friction sending delicious shockwaves out around his body.

Everything felt surreal. God he wanted more. He'd never known it could feel so good; he doubted it ever would have felt like this with anyone but Red Riot. He arched into the wide, thick hand that dipped up under his shirt, his hands tangling in red hair as Eijirou lowered himself, kissing the exposed flesh as Kirishima's hand rose up to rest on Bakugou's shoulder. Bakugou was drunk on sensation; the world spinning around them when he felt the tug on his jeans. Confused he pried open an eye.

"E-Eiji." He pushed himself out from under Kirishima, ignoring the questioning gaze hungry and heavy with lust. "Stop. Stop." He took a deep breath.

He did not want to stop.

Kirishima pulled himself up to sitting, "Did I hurt you? Did I do something wrong?"

"No." Bakugou moaned, throwing himself back. "God no. You're too good. I don't want you to stop."

Kirishima's smile twisted wickedly, "Then why-"

"But..." Katsuki blinked slow, "Mina was right." The words didn't taste very good as they rolled off his tongue. "Sort of." That helped a little.

Eijirou straightened, eyes narrowed. "You were eavesdropping."

Bakugou shrugged. "I mean, forty minutes. What else was I supposed to do?"

Kirishima pulled away, "So, what?"

Still it didn't feel wrong or awkward between them. Shouldn't it have after what... what they had been doing? Wasn't that supposed to be really vulnerable? It was so new and Bakugou had never - but still he didn't feel exposed or scared. It just felt... natural. He watched as Kirishima examined him, scrutinizing the tousled hair, running a meaty hand through his own sinfully long, silky red locks.

"God you're beautiful." Bakugou couldn't stop the words, but he didn't really want to either.

Kirishima had grown up into something otherworldly, sure he still had some awkward angles and adolescence clinging to his early twenties but overall he had really become something... something. Bakugou didn't have the right words. His skin was clear, even his scars seemed to glow and he had an irritatingly low number of new ones since his quirk had changed. Or levelled up. Whatever. Bakugou reached out and Kirishima let him, sighing as his fingers traced over his cheekbones, cupping his jaw, trailing up his nose and into his hair. Touch had always been their thing. Even when Bakugou had been untouchable Kirishima had been able to communicate with him through contact; their unspoken bond. Maybe that's why their intimate acts didn't embarrass him or feel too fast or sudden. They'd always operated differently than the people around them together.

"I'm not embarrassed by any of this." Bakugou admitted.

"Hmm?" Kirishima barely opened one eye, visibly enjoying the attention.

"I mean I never thought I'd..." Katsuki shifted closer, hands moving back to Eijirou's hair, snarling in the long strands, resisting the urge to bury himself in them. "I jerked off sometimes, y'know. I would look at people kind of objectively. He's built well. She has a nice form. I never... not.." He sighed, "Never like this. With anyone. And I always thought it would embarrass me. Shouldn't it? Isn't it vulnerable and exposing? That's what all the books say anyway. Whenever you read them it's supposed to be this exposing soul baring... but with you it's just how it's supposed to be. Like we were always supposed to-"