Friday nights tended to be like this.
The lights were dimmed and the room was quiet, save for the occasional clacking of their keyboards. Bakugou sat by the foot end, back leaning against the wall, while Kirishima's back was propped against the headboard of his bed.
This was nice, Bakugou found. He wasn't the kind of person who enjoyed socializing much. Unlike his classmates, he didn't want to spend Friday nights in the common area of the dorm and pass time with them until long past midnight. He preferred turning in early and not interacting much with anyone.
Kirishima must have noticed that - of course he had, he had an annoyingly observant nature. When he had first asked Bakugou to hang out with him, Bakugou had declined. He had assumed that this was just another attempt to get him to let loose already. Listen to music, play videogames, spend the night awake until 4 o'clock in the morning, be a normal teenager already. Those were the kind of things people expected of him.
Yet Kirishima had asked none of those things of him. When Bakugou had finally given in, they had spent their first Friday night together by sitting on Kirishima's bed with their laptops. They had shot funny links back and forth via messenger, Kirishima had shown Bakugou some stupid videos of heroes messing up on the job, and when Bakugou's yawns had become more and more frequent, Kirishima had pretended to be sleepy and asked whether they should stop for the night.
A few weeks later, they had watched trashy movies with Kirishima's laptop propped up against Kirishima's thighs. They had lain next to each other, both their heads trying to fit on the pillow, and their upper arms pressed against one another. Bakugou fell asleep sometime during the second movie, the side of his face nuzzling Kirishima's shoulder. He woke up to a stain of drool in the fabric of his friend's shirt, and the credits rolling.
Kirishima hadn't said anything about it.
Hanging out together on Friday nights became a routine, just as much as physical contact became more normal between them. Usually it was Kirishima who initiated it, but he tended to know when Bakugou wanted it. He knew how to read even the tiniest of signs that signaled that Bakugou was open to touching.
They never did much. Kirishima enjoyed touching his shoulder or his arms, wrapping his fingers around his wrist or putting a hand on his thigh when he leaned in during lunch break. Sometimes he put an arm around Bakugou's shoulders and pulled him closer while showing him something on his phone, other times he leaned in from behind and rested his chin on his shoulder while complaining about how tired he was. On Friday nights, when they were alone, he sometimes dared to wiggle his toes against the soles of Bakugou's feet, which usually resulted in Bakugou jerking back and threatening to kick Kirishima off the bed. Him being ticklish was a well kept secret and trying to take advantage of this weakness was like trying to ask for a cruel and painful death.
Despite moments like these that threatened to kill the relaxed atmosphere, Bakugou found himself attached to these weekly hangouts with Kirishima. He never skipped one, unless there was a good enough reason for it.
Actual long and deep conversations were rare, unless it was discussing some video or movie, which is why it wasn't surprising that Kirishima took a moment to react when Bakugou asked, "What are you watching right now?"
Kirishima blinked at his laptop, then moved his finger over the trackpad and tapped at it to hit pause. “Just.. this video that Tetsu sent me.” He stared at the screen for another moment, before he finally managed to tear away his eyes and look at Bakugou. “You wanna see it?”
Bakugou wanted to say no. There was no way in hell that he was interested in anything that came from some annoying guy who hadn't even made it into 1-A. Despite that, he found himself shrugging, accompanied by a tilt of the head. He wasn't really admitting to wanting to see it, or so he told himself.
Nevertheless, Kirishima moved from his spot, farther towards the edge of the bed, to make room next to him for Bakugou to lay down. Bakugou put away his laptop, then crawled over to settle down beside his best friend. He squinted his eyes at the laptop screen, but all he could make out was some blurred frame. He thought he could recognize a hand grabbing at something, but it was hard to tell.
“Guess I should turn on the sound,” Kirishima muttered.
Bakugou's eyebrows drew together. “Why the fuck are you watching a video on mute..”
His last words melted together with the sound of the video as it resumed playing. There was the distinct squeaking of a bed frame, almost completely covered up by some strange slapping noise. Bakugou stared at the laptop. The hand that he had seen grabbing at something was curling its fingers into what looked like blond hair. It pulled at the strands, roughly, making the person who was getting their hair pulled tilt back their head. Bakugou's heart slammed against the inside of his rib cage when the camera zoomed out and revealed the scene properly.
The face of the guy getting his hair pulled contorted into something that couldn't be anything but pleasure. His brows were raised slightly, and his eyes fell shut as he bit his lower lip. Something – someone? - was jostling him on the bed he was on, making him rock back and forth. His hands clutched at the sheets.
“Wha—” Bakugou began, but he was cut off once more when the camera moved, towards the person who was doing the hair pulling. He was kneeling behind the other guy, grabbing at his hair with one hand and holding onto his hip with the other. The bangs of his black hair were sweat slick and matted to his forehead. He let out a low grunt when his hips bucked forward, against the ass of the other guy, the action underlined by the sound of skin slapping on skin.
Bakugou felt his mouth go dry.
“Look at this guy's serratus muscles. He must do some special workout to get them to look like this,” Kirishima said. He pointed at some area of the black haired guy's chest, as though he was a famous athlete and not some random guy who was fucking another guy on film.
“Is this what you're paying attention to?” Bakugou finally managed to get out. His throat felt so constricted, it was hard to speak.
Kirishima blinked at the screen, then turned to look at his best friend. Bakugou could feel his breath ghost over the skin of his nose when Kirishima exhaled, and something about it made him feel.. strange. Restless. His stomach felt weird and his neck prickled like it always did when he was about to get goosebumps all over.
“Yeah? Tetsu and I send each other this kind of stuff all the time. You get used to it after a while,” Kirishima explained with a shrug of the shoulders.
“You guys send each other porn?” Bakugou prodded. “For the muscles?”
He must have sounded so incredulous that even Kirishima noticed it. He hit the pause button again and the video froze on a shot where the two guys had suddenly switched positions. The blond one was on his back, legs pulled towards his chest, and the black haired guy was grabbing his thighs and pounding into him from above.
“I mean.. I know it's weird but gay porn actors have really nice bodies,” Kirishima explained. “When you see them it really motivates you to go to the gym.”
“Seeing that makes you want to go to the gym?” Bakugou's eyebrows arched even higher. This was ridiculous. His best friend was being ridiculous. And how had he not known about this gay porn exchange that was going on between him and Tetsutetsu? Wasn't that something he was supposed to know, being Kirishima's best friend and all?
“Why? What does it do to you?” Kirishima shifted in his spot on the bed, like he wanted to get an even better look at Bakugou. “Does it turn you on?”
“What the fuck? Of course not,” Bakugou shot back immediately. His face felt hot from one second to the next. He turned his head away and let out a low huff. “Porn is stupid.”
Kirishima snorted. “Are you 12?”
“Are you 12?” Bakugou replied. He was getting more irritated by the second. “There's nothing interesting about it, most of it is fucking gross, it's boring as hell—”
“Some of these have cute story lines, actually.” Kirishima interrupted him. His finger went back to the trackpad and tapped on the small bar at the bottom of the video player to let the movie start from the beginning. The title appeared as black text on white background. It was something corny about high school boys in love, and that alone made Bakugou frown. Those guys hadn't even looked like college students anymore, how was anybody supposed to believe that they were in high school?
“You're not telling me that you watch this for the plot,” Bakugou said. Kirishima shushed at him in response. Bakugou almost wanted to push his laptop off his lap, but even he knew that that was taking it too far. But he didn't want to see this anymore – it made him feel weird, watching porn with his best friend. They had never done this kind of stuff before and he didn't see why they should start doing so now.
Despite that, Bakugou watched quietly as the meager storyline of the movie unfolded. The blond guy and the black haired guy were studying for exams, it seemed, but the blond one started to distract the other on purpose. Eventually, the black haired guy dropped his pen and pushed his books aside. He got up from his spot and moved over to the blond man's side of the table. The blond guy was dragged on the other man's lap and pulled into a kiss, which he eagerly responded to.
“That's so boring,” Bakugou muttered, but even he noticed that his words lacked the usual bite, “They study and suddenly they're fucking. We study together all the time. Just goes to show how unrealistic porn is.”
“It's not that unrealistic. If I had to choose between studying and sex, I'd choose sex too,” Kirishima explained.
“Says the guy who watches porn for muscle references and work out motivation. It doesn't even turn you on and that's the point of porn, right?” Bakugou shook his head. There was no point in arguing about this.
When he moved to sit up, Kirishima's hand touched his forearm and made him pause.
“Does it turn you on?” Kirishima asked. His eyes were wide and undoubtedly curious.
Bakugou stared at him. After another beat, he exhaled audibly and yanked away his arm. “It's porn,” he said with as much insistence and annoyance that he could muster.
“That's not—” Kirishima replied, but a glare shut him up. He pressed his lips together and stayed quiet for a moment. Even Bakugou himself realized that his statement didn't explain anything. Porn was supposed to turn somebody on, right?
“What about you?” he willed himself to ask after another second. He glanced at Kirishima out of the corner of his eye. “Does it actually..?” He wouldn't actually say it out loud. No way in hell.
Kirishima looked surprised for a moment, lips parted slightly as he blinked several times. “I never really paid attention to the.. you know.” Was Bakugou imaging things, or did Kirishima's cheeks really turn slightly red? “Tetsu and I usually just look at the muscles and.. not the other stuff..”
“Maybe he sends it to you to make a move on you. Tries to get your dick up or whatever,” Bakugou mused.
“Tetsu would never do that,” Kirishima replied, but his voice didn't sound as steady as it had a few seconds ago. Bakugou had to admit that he might be right, though. Tetsu wasn't as crafty and sly as Bakugou made him sound right now. He was a good guy and very similar to Kirishima in that respect.
“Yeah. That would be too smart,” he mumbled.
They both stared at the blurry frozen frame of the porn movie. Bakugou moved his arm in the same moment as Kirishima opened his mouth, which was accompanied by a quiet inhale that signified that he wanted to say something. He didn't get the chance to do so. Bakugou hit the play button and the video continued. Wet kissing sounds and the rustling of clothes spilled from the speakers.
Kirishima turned his head to look at Bakugou. “Might as well keep going,” Bakugou said before Kirishima could say anything.
In the video, the black haired man leaned back, until he lay flat on the ground. The blond one was on top of him, straddling his waist. His fingers were curled into the fabric of the black haired guy's shirt and his cheeks had taken on a reddish hue. The black haired man slowly began to move his hands. They wandered down the other guy's sides, towards his ass. Without pausing or warning, he grabbed at the blond man's backside and full-on groped him. The blond man jolted in surprise, but he didn't seem to mind the touch. He withdrew from the kiss with a smile on his lips, and sat up a little. Without saying anything, he pushed up the fabric of the dark haired guy's shirt, so he could grope at his chest muscles. Even when laying down, his serratus muscles were prominent.
Bakugou almost clicked his tongue in annoyance. Why was he paying attention to that? Just because it had been pointed out to him earlier..
“You know,” Kirishima began. His voice was so unnaturally loud compared to the sound from the video that Bakugou almost jumped in surprise. “The blond one kinda reminds me of you.”
“What?” Bakugou almost spat the word when he spoke. “Why?”
“I don't know,” Kirishima shrugged his shoulders, “He's blond and muscular and.. uh.. I guess he just takes whatever he wants? Not like you'd ever interrupt a cram session for that.” Kirishima gestured vaguely towards the laptop and Bakugou glanced at it once more.
The blond one was tossing his shirt aside in that very moment, then leaned back a little. His hand came to rest on the black haired guy's knee just before he began moving on top of him. They were still dressed from the waist down, but apparently he was grinding his ass against the other now. They both moaned shamelessly, in a way that Bakugou wasn't even sure whether it was genuine or just played up for the camera.
“Bet you'd like that, huh?” he heard himself say. His voice sounded so distant that it took him a moment to process his own words. “If you didn't have to study because I'd rather sit on your dick?”
“I mean, I never want to study, but..” Kirishima's voice trailed off. He turned his head towards the laptop again, but seemed to decide against it and looked away again, this time at the wall next to the bed. “I guess I wouldn't mind if it's you..”
Bakugou blinked several times, without getting out a single word. So Kirishima wanted him to.. Huh?
“Is that why you showed me that? To get into my pants?” he said without thinking. He sat up on the bed and Kirishima moved as well, alarmed by the sudden movement. He set his laptop aside, without bothering to pause the video.
“Dude, hell no. I'd never—”
The rest of his sentence turned into a surprised yelp as he was pushed back and down onto the mattress once more. Bakugou didn't pull back his hand, though, and instead left it there, pressed right against Kirishima's chest. He could feel the thrumming of Kirishima's heartbeat through the fabric of his shirt. It shouldn't have made him feel anything, but it sent a jolt of excitement through Bakugou. It traveled down his spine and rushed straight between his legs, in a way that he wished it didn't.
“You showed me porn to rile me up so we can do whatever they are doing?” he asked. His voice had dropped so low that it was barely audible over the noise coming from the speakers. Both Kirishima and Bakugou turned their heads to see what they were doing.
The blond one was already naked, while the black haired man was tugging off his pants. When he was done with that, he pushed the other man back onto the bed – when had they even moved to a bed? Porn logic, Bakugou assumed – and began to press kisses all over the blond one's chest.
“Would you like that?” Bakugou asked. He turned his head back towards Kirishima. He didn't even give his friend a chance to reply, and instead moved closer towards him. He swung a leg over Kirishima's body, so he could move on top of him. Once he was straddling him between his thighs, Bakugou lowered himself in Kirishima's lap. It had Kirishima inhale sharply and he shifted on the mattress, as though trying to get away from him.
“So?” Bakugou cut through the silence between them. Kirishima's gaze snapped up. They stared at each other without saying a word. Bakugou knew how fast his breath was going from excitement and he could see the sharp rise and fall of Kirishima's chest as well. But the sound of their breathing was completely drowned out by the moaning of the guys from the video.
Why was it even still playing?
Why were they still playing?
Bakugou was about to move and put an end to this, when he felt Kirishima's hands on his sides. He only touched him lightly, only with his finger tips, but it was enough to make Bakugou shudder. He looked at Kirishima underneath him, lips slightly apart, and.. waited. Kirishima seemed to be doing the same.
When neither of them said a word, Kirishima's lips pressed together as though he was steeling himself. He all but gripped at Bakugou's side and pulled, hard. Bakugou almost fell forward when he was yanked closer and he barely managed to grip at the headboard in time so he wouldn't topple over.
“What the fuck—” Bakugou wanted to protest, but meeting Kirishima's gaze shut him up. Something was different about the way his best friend was looking at him now. He didn't look insecure or nervous anymore, though Bakugou couldn't fully explain what he looked like instead.
“Keep going,” Kirishima said. His voice was merely a command, spoken low and barely audible, but it made Bakugou shiver in a mix of excitement and nervousness.
“What do you want me to do?” Bakugou heard himself ask. His cheeks felt hot and there was a drop of sweat slowly sliding down the back of his neck. Why was the room so warm all of a sudden? It only made him want to get rid of his annoying clothes. “This?” For some reason, even though he couldn't say that he was able to think properly, he remembered what the guys in the video had done. His hands moved away from the headboard and began to tug at the fabric of Kirishima's shirt.
Even though he had seen his best friend naked countless of times already, seeing his bare chest now was doing strange things to Bakugou. His hands actually trembled when he pushed his shirt higher, until it was bunched up under Kirishima's chin. His hands came to rest on Kirishima's chest. He could feel the heat radiating off his skin, the steady rise and fall with every inhale and exhale, the pounding of his heart inside his rib cage.
Bakugou wondered what it would feel like to have Kirishima's hands on his chest and the implication of that thought made blood rush to his head.
This was too much.
All of this was too much.
“Just kidding.” He had to use force to actually get out the words. His voice sounded strange, like he hadn't spoken in hours. He pulled back his hands and straightened up in Kirishima's lap. His best friend stared at him, eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar.
“Huh?” he made eventually, a noise that sounded so stupid that Bakugou would have made fun of it if the situation hadn't been so weird.
“Like I'd ever do anything like that,” he said and turned to look at the laptop. He was greeted by the sight of the black haired man on his back with his legs spread. The blond guy had his face buried between his thighs and was moving his head in a way that left little to imagination. That, and the wet, obscene noises that accompanied the scene. The black haired one was running his fingers through the blond's hair before gripping the longer strands at the back of his neck and pulled at them, which the blond one responded to with a pleased little hum.
Without saying anything, Bakugou leaned over and slammed the laptop shut.
The quiet that settled in was deafening. Bakugou could hear the rushing of his blood in his ears. His heart beat so loudly that he was sure Kirishima could hear it. His hands felt sweaty, even worse than usual, and they were still trembling. His clothes felt too tight and constricting, the room was way too warm. The entire situation was uncomfortable, in a way that not even he knew what he was supposed to do to change anything about it.
He didn't even dare look at Kirishima, who was still lying underneath him, chest bare, and looking at him. His gaze felt like it was piercing holes into Bakugou.
He wanted to say something, to make a joke or curse or just do anything to make the awkwardness disperse. The clock on Kirishima's shelf ticked quietly as its arm moved to the next minute, as though to remind him that things were only going to get worse if he kept thinking so long and hard. He knew that, yet not a single coherent thought formed in his head.
The image of the blond man with his lips stretched around the other guy's cock was stuck in his head like an imprint.
“I'm leaving,” Bakugou forced himself to speak after what felt like ages. It wasn't a very dignified end to such an awkward night, but it was the only solution he could come up with. Tomorrow, things would be back to how they used to be. They just wouldn't talk about this, ever, and everything would be alright.
He moved to get off of Kirishima, but Kirishima grabbed his wrist and made him pause. “Like this?” he asked. Bakugou blinked at him, then lowered his gaze to where Kirishima was looking.
Heat rushed through his body like someone had dunked molten lava over his head.
The way his erection tented his pants wasn't too obvious what with how baggy his shorts were, but it was unmistakable once you noticed it. Even worse, Bakugou could feel something else – a something that was poking his backside and made him shift uncomfortable, only for the movement to elicit a noisy inhale from Kirishima.
“Fucking pervert,” Bakugou growled at his best friend.
Kirishima bit his lower lip. The way those sharp teeth dug into the sensitive flesh of his mouth should have been a turn off, but Bakugou couldn't help but stare at it. Finally, he tore his eyes away and tried to move again.
“Whatever, like I said, I'm—”
“How do you even get off?” Kirishima interrupted him and stopped him from leaving for the second time tonight.
Bakugou gaped at him without saying a word.
“I mean, with your quirk and all..” Kirishima didn't finish the sentence, but the unspoken question was as clear as day. Bakugou found himself wordlessly staring for the nth time that night.
“You seriously think I can't jack it because of my quirk?” Without meaning to, his voice had pitched at the end of the sentence. Bakugou's hands clenched into fists. “You think I'm gonna blow off my own dick or something?”
Kirishima let go of Bakugou's wrist and raised his hands in front of his – still very naked – chest. “I used to hurt myself with my own quirk so it wouldn't be surprising..”
“I know how to get off without getting hurt, dumbass,” Bakugou hissed. Why was Kirishima so— And why was he even friends with an idiot like that? Bakugou wanted to beat him up, just like he had when they had fought against each other during the sports festival months ago.
It didn't help that Kirishima gave him a look that made it clear that he didn't fully believe Bakugou. If he had been more observant or at least a tiny bit calmer, he would have known better than to say anything. Instead, Bakugou let out a huff and jutted his chin forward, like a petulant child. The only thing missing was him stomping his foot on the ground. “What? Do you want me to show you?”
Kirishima's eyes widened. “Would you?” he replied immediately, so Bakugou didn't even get the chance to indicate that he wasn't being serious. He wouldn't really do it in front of his best friend. Absolutely not.
“Do I look like I'm joking?” he said, followed by an annoyed click of the tongue.
Maybe he would not not do it in front of his best friend.
Instead of saying anything, Kirishima's gaze dropped lower once more. He was openly staring at Bakugou's crotch, where his erection was tenting the fabric of his pants. Bakugou was pretty sure that anyone else would have avoided looking anywhere near it, but of course his best friend wouldn't be like that. He probably thought that staring at another man's dick was a sign of manliness, or whatever dumb logic he'd apply to justify this behavior.
“God, you're so fucking thirsty,” Bakugou hissed. Hopefully Kirishima didn't notice the trembling of his fingers when he brought his hands to the front of his shorts and began to fumble with the knot the string was tied into.
Seeing each other naked after gym class or practical training was one thing, but doing so when you had a boner was.. different. Bakugou couldn't even formulate why that was. Maybe it felt more intimate to show himself like that – turned on because of some stupid porn video they had only watched because Tetsu was a weirdo and Bakugou had been too curious.
Trying to pull his pants down in this position was difficult, and Bakugou had to shift a little bit to get it to work. The movement dragged a gasp from Kirishima. His hips surged upwards, right against Bakugou's ass. It effectively reminded both of them that Bakugou wasn't the only one affected by this. For a moment, Bakugou considered using this to his advantage, but he decided against it. There was a much better idea forming in his head.
“Are you gonna do it too?” he asked.
Kirishima wasn't even moving, but he looked frozen the moment that question left Bakugou's mouth. He stared up at Bakugou, exhaling shakily. Bakugou couldn't help but stare at how his chest fell and then rose again. Without any warning, he rolled his hips to grind down against the erection that was all but stabbing him from below. Kirishima closed his eyes with a quiet gasp.
“Do you want me to?” he replied with a bit of delay. His eyes opened again, just as Bakugou pulled his cock out of the confines of his pants. It was a bit uncomfortable and the waistband of his shorts and underwear was taut against his skin.
“It would only be fair,” he found.
Kirishima looked at him for another second or two, before he nodded. He opened his mouth to say something, but Bakugou was already moving and getting up from his lap. Kirishima quickly shoved down his sweatpants along with his underwear. Bakugou decided to do the same, even though it was more difficult with him kneeling above Kirishima.
Their gazes met again once their pants were off. Kirishima bit his lip in what seemed to be insecurity, and Bakugou averted his eyes. Seeing each other naked and rock solid really was way different. Why had he agreed to this again?
Underneath him, Kirishima moved his hand. Bakugou's eyes snapped back towards him, just in time to see his best friend wrap a hand around his erection. He hadn't really looked closer before, but now he was noticing just how big he was. There wasn't much of a size different when flaccid, but fully hard was something else. Bakugou swallowed audibly when he noticed that Kirishima's index finger and thumb barely touched when he had his hand wrapped around himself.
The sight shouldn't have excited him so much, but there it was, the jolt of arousal that rushed through him and straight between his legs. His cock throbbed and Bakugou rolled his shoulders as if to shake off the shudder threatening to creep down his back.
“Touch yourself,” Kirishima said, his voice nothing but a low rumble. It sounded stupidly hot to Bakugou's ears.
He wanted to reply something, wanted to remind Kirishima that he didn't take orders from anyone, but his hand moved as if on its on. It wrapped around his cock and squeezed, just as firm as Bakugou liked it.
Underneath him, Kirishima moved his hand. Bakugou watched in quiet mesmerization as his best friend began stroking himself, all the way from base to tip. He tightened his fingers around himself whenever he got closer to the tip, then moved down again before repeating the motion. There was nothing strange or unusual about it, yet Bakugou couldn't look away. Something about seeing Kirishima do that was undeniably fascinating and.. hot, even.
The thought alone would have been enough to make him scream any other day, but Bakugou could only feel mild terror over it. His heart seemed to want to burst out of his chest, but he stayed still, breathing heavily through his nose as he imitated the movements of his best friend's hand.
“Just like that,” Kirishima said— no, praised quietly, and Bakugou stiffened for a moment. A wave of arousal washed over him and his hand moved just a tiny bit faster. He wasn't into getting praised, he absolutely wasn't.. Or so he tried to tell himself. Kirishima didn't say anything else and it made his brows furrow with annoyance. He wanted to hear more. More praise, coming straight from that stupid guy's mouth.
“You like that?” he asked, followed by an airy laugh. He leaned back a little, an arm reaching around himself to steady himself on Kirishima's knee behind him. That way, he wasn't half slouched on top of Kirishima anymore, and Kirishima could see everything properly. “Does this turn you on? Me with my hand on my dick?”
“Yeah,” Kirishima replied almost immediately. Bakugou wasn't prepared for it, and his eyes widened. His best friend paused as his hand moved up his cock and then stilled. A thumb swiped through the beads of precum that started to collect on the tip, and the touch made him shiver and close his eyes for a moment. “Keep going.. Show me how you like it, Bakugou.”
Fuck. Bakugou wanted to say no, that he definitely wouldn't show Kirishima anything. But his hand continued stroking himself faster. Tiny sparks of pleasure exploded inside him and made him tremble on top of his best friend. This wasn't supposed to feel so good and it definitely wasn't meant to be so hot to do something like this with Kirishima, of all people.
It didn't help that Kirishima looked stupidly hot below him, stretched out on the mattress, the muscles in his arm flexing whenever he moved his arm in a certain way. His abs stood out so prominently that Bakugou had to fight down the urge to touch them.
“Good boy.. Keep going,” Kirishima mumbled absentmindedly. Bakugou's hips surged forward, driving his cock into the tight enclosure of his fist.
“Fuck,” Bakugou whispered breathlessly. All of a sudden he felt himself pathetically close to release. He wanted to stroke himself faster, but Kirishima didn't even look half as affected by all this. If anything, he looked like he was in total control. His cheeks had taken on a hint of red, but there was no sign of exertion similar to the sweat beading on Bakugou's forehead.
So fucking unfair.
“You're so hot, Bakugou,” Kirishima commented as if he knew that it got to Bakugou. Bakugou trembled on top of him and his hand sped up even more. He couldn't keep still anymore and shifted helplessly in Kirishima's lap as he tried to fuck into his own hand. Jolts of pleasure danced up and down his spine and made his head swim.
He would probably come like this, embarrassingly soon and all, but he didn't care. He wanted release so badly, even if it meant looking absolutely pathetic in front of his best friend.
As though Kirishima had read his thoughts, he let go of his own cock. He grabbed at Bakugou's wrist like he wanted to stop him, and it took a moment for Bakugou to actually do that. His grip loosened, albeit unwillingly, and Kirishima pulled his hand off his cock.
He inhaled sharply when his fingers were brought to Kirishima's erection instead. The flesh was throbbing, glistening wet at the tip, and it was so hot to the touch that Bakugou almost pulled back his hand as though he had gotten burnt. Even worse, now he could actually feel just how big and heavy Kirishima was. Just knowing this wasn't supposed to affect him so much.
He glanced down at himself just as Kirishima's hand wrapped around his cock. Bakugou wasn't even sure whether it was his best friend's size or the feeling of those fingers on his erection that made him drip with arousal. Whatever it was, it made Kirishima hum in reply, as though it was exactly what he wanted. His thumb rubbed over the leaking slit at the head of Bakugou's cock. It had Bakugou whimper in response.
“Use your hand,” Kirishima ordered. Bakugou bristled at the sound of it. He wanted to retort something and reassert just who was in control right now – it was him, right? Since he was the one on top? Right? – but he couldn't do anything. Kirishima gave him a slow, firm stroke and it was enough to disperse any rebellious streak he had left.
Instead, Bakugou found himself moving on top of Kirishima. His hips surged forward and into the warmth and firmness of his best friend's fist. He tried to match the movements but it was difficult to coordinate. Kirishima was stroking him at his own pace, Bakugou's own hand was stroking Kirishima at whatever sloppy rhythm he had formed, and his hips seemed to be completely detached from either of those patterns and bucked helplessly into Kirishima's grip.
“Is this what you wanted?” Bakugou finally managed to form a proper sentence. He still wanted to think of himself in control, but even he knew that this wasn't the case. Not when he was sweating and trembling in Kirishima's lap and dripping like a broken faucet. He was so, so close but Kirishima knew exactly how to touch him to drag out his release.
“Yeah,” Kirishima replied without missing a beat. He squeezed Bakugou's cock teasingly. It elicited a moan from Bakugou, the first actual loud, vocal sound coming from him.
It wasn't fair that Kirishima had so much power over him and Bakugou wanted to complain about it out loud, but now that his lips were loose and open, all that came over them were pathetic noises that he would regret later. There were breathy moans and soft grunts, and whenever Kirishima rubbed his thumb over the dripping head of his cock he let out another whimper.
The rhythm of his hand on Kirishima's cock was sloppy, but Kirishima didn't seem to mind. Bakugou could feel Kirishima shift underneath him, but he couldn't buck his hips properly, not with Bakugou sitting on his thighs like that. It was the only thing that gave Bakugou at least a hint of a sense of power over his best friend. That, and the fact that Kirishima was finally quiet now. He didn't say anything anymore, instead groaning quietly whenever whatever Bakugou did to him felt particularly good.
Bakugou wondered whether he felt it too, the tightness in his stomach, right behind his abs, the tingling sensation in his thighs. His toes curled and his hand squeezed Kirishima's cock tighter as he bucked into Kirishima's fist.
“Fuck,” he cursed breathlessly and he squeezed his eyes shut. His vision went white behind his eyelids when he came. A wave of pleasure crashed down on him and flooded every single nerve in his body. He trembled in Kirishima's lap and his hips surged forward as he desperately chased after the sensation. His best friend's hand was firm and kept stroking him through his orgasm without breaking its rhythm, like he wanted to wring every last drop of cum out of him.
He was barely coming down from his high when he remembered to move his hand. Kirishima cursed under his breath and shifted under him before he went completely still. His cock twitched and pulsed in Bakugou's hand, a mere second before he came as well. Bakugou felt a pang of arousal somewhere in his guts at the sight of his best friend spilling all over his hand and stomach, the white of his cum staining his abs in a way that he shouldn't find erotic.
Bakugou continued stroking him, just the way Kirishima had done it to him, until he was sure that Kirishima was finished. He let out an audible hiss and shuddered at the touch when he was getting too sensitive. Bakugou paused, then removed his hand.
It was sticky, covered in cum, but for some strange reason Bakugou didn't find it disgusting in the least. He eyed it for a moment, then lowered his arm and looked at Kirishima.
His best friend had closed his eyes and breathed in deeply as he tried to get his breathing under control once more. Bakugou watched him for a moment, silently going through all the possible things he could say. But was there anything he could say right now? Was there anything appropriate to say after a mutual jack off session with your best friend? What was the common courtesy in a situation like that?
Kirishima opened his eyes and looked at him. His lips pulled into a dazed little smile. It made Bakugou's heart stumble in his chest and he almost cursed out loud in response to it.
“I guess you were right,” Kirishima said. Bakugou blinked at him, but Kirishima had already closed his eyes again. He brought his clean hand to his hair and brushed back his sweat slick bangs.
“Right about what?” Bakugou finally asked when a few seconds had passed and Kirishima still hadn't said anything.
His best friend opened his eyes again. His lips turned into a wicked grin that showed off his sharp teeth. “You can actually get off without blasting your dick away.”
“Fuck you,” Bakugou grunted in reply. He moved to get off of Kirishima, and his friend's hands shot forward to grip at his side.
“I was just joking, man,” Kirishima tried to soothe him. Bakugou huffed in response.
Without another word, he pulled down Kirishima's shirt, so it covered his chest again. Kirishima looked at him with raised eyebrows and Bakugou's lips pulled into a smile.
Kirishima should have known that a smiling Bakugou was never a good sign, but his face still fell when Bakugou wiped his cum stained hand on the dark fabric of his shirt. Kirishima made a choked noise somewhere in the back of his throat.
“Dude, I just washed this shirt—” he whined. Bakugou shrugged and pushed off Kirishima's hand so he could finally get up.
“Ain't my problem, asshole,” he replied. He picked up his pants and pulled them on again, then moved to grab his laptop. Did Kirishima notice just how shaky his legs felt?
“Are you leaving? Now?” The mattress squeaked when Kirishima moved to sit up. He looked at Bakugou like he was a puppy who was about to get abandoned in a cardboard box in the rain.
Bakugou stared at him before he raised a hand. There was a quiet crackle, like the sound of fireworks in the distant, accompanied by a burned smell. Kirishima's eyes widened and he raised his arms in front of him.
“Want me to blast your dick off for real?”
“No,” Kirishima replied, voice pitched with panic.
Bakugou squinted his eyes at him, as though he had to consider first. Then, a shrug. He closed his laptop and turned towards the door.
“Good night, dumbass,” he mumbled, so quietly that it was barely audible. Kirishima didn't say anything in reply until Bakugou was already at the door, but Bakugou refused to react to it.
He needed a shower and a good night's rest and some time alone to get his stupidly pounding heart under control.