"Whoo, that's quite a bit, huh?"
Kirishima rested his chin on Bakugo's shoulder, arms wrapped around his bare torso as he gawked at the scale underneath his bare feet.
"It's because you're hanging off my back, dumbass," Bakugo huffed as he nudged an elbow at his boyfriend, forcing him to take a few steps back. His eyes flickered back down to the cool, metal panel of the scale.
98kg. 218lbs. Goddamn it.
How the excess weight managed to sneak up on Bakugo, he had no clue. Recovery was a bitch in itself. He knew of the setbacks after the surgical removal of a calcium-based projectile embedded in his side.
As annoying as it was, Bakugo was thankful to have a worried and willing Kirishima to help take care of him during his 6-week medical leave. Although, he could do without the redheaded hero desperately hanging around outside the restroom until Bakugo was finished, constantly asking to see if he needed help. That isn't to say his puppy-like attachment didn't come in handy when he was just a little too tired or sore to walk up the stairs at night. Or when he just needed company from sitting around all day at home, bored and alone, and willing to let Kirishima talk his ear off about what happened at work. It was also a blessing to have someone dress his wound and apply anesthetic gel when the pain was a little too much for the first week of recovery.
He expected some loss in muscle mass, even with the light exercises he did on an almost daily basis. But this? The weight gain had him thrown through a loop. Of course, Bakugo’s wardrobe tended to be on the looser side, possibly shielding him from the realization that he may have snacked too often, or lounged around more than he walked. But what else are you supposed to do when you’re practically on house arrest?
Bakugo had never cared much for appearances. Kirishima likes to refer to him as a "naturally attractive epitome of manliness." His body was practically littered with scars and permanent marks, with the recent addition of the surgical scar on his lower back. Keeping up his physical image was nothing he really cared to put much effort into because, well… he always looked good-- felt good.
But now there was a sudden tinge of self-awareness. Even now, he stared in disbelief at the small lump of soft skin resting on his stomach.
"It just means you're relaxing, Katsuki," Kirishima made his way to their shower and adjusted the knobs, "it'll go away once you get back into your regimen. Izuku went through the same thing, and he lost the weight in a couple weeks."
"I fucking know that," Bakugo barked back, maybe a little more upset than he had intended.
Kirishima shrugged, stepping into the shower.
"I think it's kinda hot. It's like you have a dad bod, y'know?"
There was still a bit of a hobble as Bakugo made his way over to the shower. Kirishima immediately extended his arm to assist him as he stepped over the side.
"You'd think anything is hot if I put a picture of my face on it," Bakugo grumbled, relaxing almost immediately under the faucet of hot water. Kirishima assumed his initial position, hair flattening under the water as he lowered his head. His squared fingers began to grope and tenderly stroke at the soft skin underneath Bakugo's ribcage.
"Probably," he mumbled against Bakugo's ear, "but I'd rather have the real Katsuki."
Bakugo was ready to defend the color in his cheeks by arguing about the heat of the shower. But Kirishima said nothing as he pressed forward, chest flush against his boyfriend's back as he reached for some body gel. His hands were careful as he motioned for Bakugo to sit on the small stool. Bakugo stiffened as large hands lathered his body, but immediately relaxed when they were gentle and slow around the surgical site.
"I can wash myself," he said quietly, tilting his head back as Kirishima moved to lather his hair with scented shampoo.
"Yeah, but I wanna do this," Kirishima chuckled as he rubbed slow circles on broad shoulders. He knelt down, inching closer as he pressed his lips against Bakugo's, hands coming up to grip at soft hips.
"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," he murmured as he nuzzled against Bakugo's neck.
"Who the fuck's embarrassed?!" Bakugo roared, trying his best to down the spreading pink tint of his skin travelling down to his neck and chest. “You’re the one who keeps making fun of my weight!”
Kirishima pulled back, brows knitted together and cat-like eyes wide.
“... Katsu, I wasn’t making fun of anything.” He rested a hand on Bakugo’s thigh as he turned away, ears tinting red.
“Wait, are you seriously embarrassed about gaining weight?”
“Shut up!” Bakugo yelled, twisting away completely and folding his arms over his puffy chest. Goddamn, it’s there, too! How did he not notice?!
“Katsuki,” Kirishima giggled, “there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s not even a lot of weight! It’s cute. You’re like an angry plush.” He pinched the flesh on Bakugo’s good side, earning a vacillating glare.
“Pffft! See!? Look at your face!”
“Alright, I’m getting out,” Bakugo grumbled, ignoring the ache in his side as he pushed himself to his feet and opened the shower curtain. He balanced himself to step over the edge, and nearly tumbled back as a hand shot out and gripped his wrist. Kirishima stood up, pulling Bakugo back in, and resting his chin back on his shoulder.
“Katsuki,” he said softly, nosing at the sensitive skin on the right side of Bakugo’s collar.
“No!” Bakugo growled, trying and failing to wrestle his way out of the sturdy hero’s muscled arms.
“Katsuki,” Kirishima repeated a little more firm. Bakugo stopped his struggling, forcing his gaze to the dripping stream of water beneath their feet. He felt warm lips press and suck against his pulse, warm breath skittering along the length of his neck.
“You’re amazing and perfect,” he heard the words purred into his ear, loving and sultry. He grunted as large hands massaged his swollen belly.
“Every part of you,” Kirishima continued, body flush against his lover’s.
Bakugo shuddered as warmth pooled into his chest, slowly leaning into the light strokes against his scalp.
“Do you hear me, Katsuki?”
“Oh, fuuuuck, yesssss~!” Bakugo moaned, tongue lolling out and eyes crossed. He gripped the bed sheets with white knuckles as he leaned forward from the force of Kirishima’s hard, sloppy thrusts behind him. The redhead hunched over him, heaving damp pants over the man’s perspiring back and clutching at the modest lovehandles on his bruising hips.
“Shit,” Kirishima groaned, “did you always have a fat ass?”
Bakugo rested his chest against the mattress, keeping the rest of his body propped on his knees. Whether it was to give Kirishima better access, or to ease the strain on his side, no one knew. But thiss was the first time they had engaged in sex since the surgery, and Bakugo was going to do everything in his power to enjoy it.
“Mmmm, never fucking say that again,” he slurred, drool pooling from his lips as Kirishima rammed into a particularly delicious spot, “just-- ahh--... just don’t stop~”
“Fuck, I can’t help it, Katsu.” Kirishima pulled out momentarily, helping the explosive hero to adjust to a more comfortable position on his back. He gripped onto puffy thighs as he slid back through the tight ring of Bakugo’s entrance, both of them groaning vociferously at the throbbing, pleasant sensation.
“Your body is amazing,” Kirishima whispered, just under the wanton purrs from his boyfriend. Their eyes locked onto each other a he lowered himself, slowly lapping up the beads of sweat on the blonde’s plush chest before suckling on a dusky, firm nipple. Bakugo tossed his head back in lascivious moan as he felt the hot wet muscle work around his chest, teeth occasionally closing down and gently grazing and tugging at his flesh.
“You like that? Huh?” Kirishima purred, rubbing his nose against the underside of the blonde’s swollen left pec. He slowed down the thrusting of his hips to a lazy hump as he rubbed his thumbs against the soft flesh of Bakugo’s stomach.
“Fuck, I’ve been waiting so long for this,” he whined, trying to pace himself, “mmmh-- waiting so long just to fill you up. God, Katsuki, you should see the way your ass bounces when I fuck you.”
“Sh-Shut up,” Bakugo panted, nipping at the back of his own wrist, “you’re-- haa… embarrassing.”
“I’m serious,” Kirishima snorted, “it’s hot. Just like the rest of you.”
Bakugo turned his cheek into the mattress with a pout on his lips. Kirishima breathed out a husky, ultry chuckle-- God how his voice made Bakugo shiver-- and leaned over him.
“You don’t think so?” he hummed deep in his ear. Bakugo didn’t budge, avoiding the predatory leer from the man above and inside of him. A few seconds of complete silence ticked by. Kirishima sighed and pulled out.
Bakugo twisted his head up to protest, but his shoulders were gripped before he could part his lips. He found himself facing the opposite end of the bed, supporting himself on his hands and knees as Kirishima hovered above him. Their eyes met in the mirror hanging on the closet door across the room. Bakugo took in the swell of his pecs and the slight pouch of his stomach. His member wasn’t able to press flush against his belly, but Bakugo was subconsciously thankful his length was still there as he eyed the precum dripping from the tip. The small bit of fat on his sides made his hips seem a little wider and… huh. Maybe his ass was a little fatter.
“Guess I’ll just have to show you, then” Kirishima murmured as he sunk back in, sighing blissfully at the subtle clench around him. He pushed down on Bakugo, forcing him onto his elbows as he continued ramming into tight, wet heat.
“Ohhh, fucck, Ei-Eijirou~” Bakugo wailed, jaw slack as he felt his boyfriend push against his insides. Kirishima clutched his fingers around Bakugo’s neck, forcing him to hold eye contact in the mirror.
“Don’t look away,” he rumbled, breath hot and wet against the blonde’s neck, “look at how well my baby takes me. See what I was talking about?”
“Mmm, fuck yes, give it to me, Ei~” Bakugo bit his lower lip as he felt and heard the loud sound of his cheeks clapping with each of Kirishima’s harsh thrusts.
“Fuck, you’re so hot, Katsu,” Kirishima moaned a he reached down to carress a soft pec and roll a nipple between his thumb and index. “Bark for me.”
Bakugo quickly obliged with a sharp yap as his tongue fell out of his mouth, strings of saliva dripping onto the comforter. Kirishima groaned deep and loud, nipping and kissing just underneath the nape of Bakugo’s sweaty neck.
“Good boy,” he praised, patting and kneading the soft flesh of his tummy, “very good boy! God, you drive me crazy, you know that? Hmm?”
His thrusts became sharp ass he drove straight into Bakugo’s prostate, making him tense and scream with pleasure.
“Fuck, Ei,” he keened, “‘m close! Ahhh, I’m so f-fucking close~” Kirishima tore his gaze away from the blotchy, sweaty, blised-out face, and focused on the strands of precum dripping and soaking into the sheets.
“Aww, you are, huh?” he hummed, stroking his thumb over Bakugo’s tip. “Does my baby understand how amazing he is? How happy he makes me?”
“Yessss~” Bakugo whined, eyes blown wide ass he shuddered under Kirishima’s loving and dominant stare. He felt his hand grip harshly at his tip, and the hips cease their gyrating.
“Yes what?” Kirishima pushed, ignoring Bakugo’s indignant whine.
“Y-Yes, sir!” He moaned, body trembling under the weight of everything, head dizzy with pleasure and exhaustion. Kirishima let go and began giving quick, rough strokes to the weeping length.
“Ah, such a good boy,” he cooed, “you can go ahead and come for me.” Bakugo had to fight everything in him to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head. His saliva dripped from his opened mouth and dripped onto the fingers wrapped around his neck. His orgasm was silent as his breath hitched, thick, hot strands of cum spurting out and coating Kirishima’s fingers and comforter. His eyes never left Kirishima’s as he listened to his boyfriend’s small whispers of encouragement.
“Such a good boy. That’s right, finish right there. That feels good, doesn’t it?”
He pitched forward, resting on the bed, vaguely aware of the hot, wet heat filling his insides. They laid there, panting and spent, basking in the pleasant hum and afterglow. Kirishima finally pulled out, maneuvering Bakugo on his side and sliding the covers over both of their bodies. He scooted closer, nuzzling against his boyfriend, mindful of the tender spot on his back. Those probing fingers found their way back to Bakugo’s torso, kneading at his belly as warm lips smooched up and down a sweaty shoulder.
“So…” Kirishima hummed, “I think it’s safe to say I adore you with or without the weight.”
“God, you’re such a freak,” Bakugo huffed with a hint of fondness. Kirishima pressed his face into blonde spiky locks and nuzzled at his scalp.