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(Vacation) All I Ever Wanted

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Bakugou had gotten much better at restraining himself since his graduation from UA five years before. Or so he liked to think. Sure, he yelled at villains - they deserved it - but he didn’t yell at civilians or people he was rescuing or even Deku. Unless he was being particularly annoying.

But right now? He could imagine a whiteboard in his mind that said, Days without an outburst, and a hand erasing the number and putting in a zero.

He forced his voice quiet and slow. “What. Do you mean. Our shared lodging.”

“Kacchan…” Deku said softly, trying to be a source of (unwelcome) calm and comfort. They stood side-by-side in front of the check-in table at the entrance to the onsen resort that had been arranged for them by the very wealthy benefactor they saved during a robbery the week before. The woman had kindly insisted, saying how two amazing heroes deserved ‘a treat’ and ‘some time away from such harrowing work.’ Everyone deserves the chance to recharge! she cooed, like they were dogs getting a biscuit.

“Oh yes,” the older man said as he glanced through the written book of reservations. He had the head of a capybara, and there was a yuzu on top of his head that wobbled a little as he spoke. “Your reservation was for our romantic package for two. The person who booked your stay was very clear in that regard, that you were partners, and that you should be given the nicest accommodations.”

“W-we aren’t...we’re not that kind isn’t like that!” Deku stuttered, cheeks going so pink that his freckles faded into the bright color.

“We just work together!” Bakugou snapped, ‘quiet and slow’ replaced by ‘angry and belligerent.’ “Do I look like his boyfriend?!”

“Well, we’ve gotten all types here!” the man said with a chuckle as he stroked the long whiskers that fell around his nose. 

That’s not the point, you senile piece of--!! Bakugou grabbed the bridge of his nose so hard he was afraid he was going to leave a bruise. His wallet slammed into the desk when he pulled it out. “What do I have to pay to get us each our own space?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“Kacchan, I can help! I have--”

“We can settle up later, dammit!” Something actually strained in his temple. “I have cash and card, whatever you take. I don’t care how much it is.”

Bakugou couldn’t see the man’s eyes under the long strands of fur, but he could definitely see the way he shook his long nose. “I sure am sorry, son, but I’m afraid there’s no other availability. You can get another shuttle back to town tomorrow, but that’s the only space we have at the moment.”

Spinning around on his heel, Bakugou looked outside, back at the long stretch of road that disappeared into the forest and away. It had taken an hour to ride from the stop at the bottom, in the village’s center, and that had been after a two-hour bullet train ride. And a ferry.

Getting home would be a pain in the ass.

“Kacchan?” Deku was at his side, giving him that fucking big-eyed stare of his, like a puppy. He wasn’t quite as short as he used to be, and his hair had grown out, bigger around his still-boyish face. There was just a little smile, and somehow the fact that it was so sweet and tiny made Bakugou sneer. “Please? We can make it work. We can move the futons apart a little, and I read the brochure, and there are several rooms, so we could each have our own space. We don’t have to spend the whole time together.”

Bakugou expelled a hard breath out of his mouth, shifting the big bag on his shoulder with a huff. “Fine, god, fuck, whatever. Let’s just go already.” Now he refused to look at him, opting instead to stare at the mural of several fish on the wall.

“Let me show you the way!” Taking a key from behind the desk, the old man shuffled out and opened a door, leading them outside. “You even have your own private outdoor bath. Isn’t that nice? Very romantic, and you don’t have to share with anyone.”

“I don’t give a shit how romantic it is!”

Deku laughed. “Come on, you have to admit it’s nice to not have to deal with other people if we don’t want to.” He gave his arm a little bump. “We can even take turns if you prefer.”

Bakugou wanted to tear his hair out. He hated this. He hated everything about this, but not for the reasons that Deku seemed to think he did. Over the past several years, he had managed to balance the perfect degree of separation from his partner: they lived on different ends of the city, worked together, and that was it. And that had been fine. Better than fine, in fact. That way, what time they did spend together was just focused on work, on saving people, on kicking villains’ asses. Maybe they would have some interview or press event to go to, but that was just a part of the job, so…

So he could go home and not think about some of the moments when Deku stood too close to him during patrol, staring at him a little too long until he snapped at him to knock it off.

Or he could go play video games and hang out with Kirishima instead of noticing how Deku literally wore his costume until it was so tight it was riding up or hugging him in ways that nobody was ignoring.

Or he could make dinner for himself and train and do anything else that did not involve staring at Deku - at fucking Deku, of all people - when he panted and brushed his thick dark green hair from his forehead after he smashed some monster into a brick wall. 

“Good job, Kacchan!”

“Kacchan, will you help me stretch out before we go?”

“Do you want some of my bento? Uraraka made it for me!”

“Kacchan, be careful!”

“Kacchan, don’t hurt yourself…”



Pain laced through Bakugou’s toe as he kicked the wooden step that led into the next building over in the ryokan. It had a small porch with two chairs, and the owner unlocked the front sliding door to usher them in. Once their shoes were off, he walked them around the premises. “This entire building is yours,” he explained, taking them from the main room with a small cushioned sitting space and television into the dining area, where a lacquered table was full of fruit that had been cut into the shape of flowers in an ornate display. “My wife and I live in the west wing of the main building where you came in, so if there is anything we can get for you, please do not hesitate to let us know.”

Bakugou followed as Deku slid the door open to what was obviously the bedroom - which was extremely small, how the fuck were they going to manage that - and then quickly shut it without commenting.

In an attempt to ignore the situation as much as humanly possible, Bakugou let himself be swallowed up in the adjacent sitting room. There were larger, more comfortable chairs, and a huge window gave a pretty gorgeous view of the trees outside, dark green except where their lime-colored bellies turned upwards.

“There may be some rain tonight, but no wind, and after that, you should have wonderful weather for the rest of the weekend. Dinner is normally at six, and breakfast is at eight. We do have some light food in the main building, if you get hungry during the day, and outside of the bathroom is a small icebox with some drinks. Is that all right?”

“Yes, thank you! This is all very nice!” Deku bowed graciously, and the man smiled. 

“I’m glad you like it. There are two baths, both inside and out, so I hope you will start your stay with a soak. It’s tradition, and there is a wonderful variety of yukata in the closet. Enjoy.” And just like that, he was gone. Leaving them completely alone.

Bakugou waited until he heard the door slide close and the latch to fall back in place before he dropped his clothes bag in the main room and gave it a vindictive kick. “Seriously? He wasn’t even going to fucking apologize for this?!”

“Kacchan!” Deku shushed him as he came back in, putting his bag beside his. “Don’t be like that, he seems very nice! I’m sure he didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“I don’t care. That ain’t the point!” He really hoped that his face wasn’t as red as it felt, and he stomped over to the closet to throw it open. Sure enough, it was full of garments for them to wear...but then he made note of a detail. “Dammit all to hell! They’re all made to match!” 

He glared at Deku when he giggled, reaching past him to slot his hands between each one. “They’re really nice, though...these are obviously hand-made…” Even though there was a variety of colors in gorgeous red, blue, white and black, there were details sewn in that made it very clear they were meant to draw similar parallels. “If I make a recommendation, do you promise not to kill me?”

“No. Never.”

Deku took out a crimson robe and held it up to Bakugou’s chest. He wasn’t looking him in the face, but rather his eyes were honed on Bakugou’s neck, the point between his pecs. “I…” He cleared his throat. “I really think this one would be good on you.”

For a second, Bakugou considered pushing it back at him and telling him to forget it, but...instead he snatched it, turning it around. A blazing sun was fiery on the back, licking outwards to the sides, arms and shoulders. “Whatever.” He found himself taking it. “So which one are you wearing, then?”

Immediately Deku’s hand reached out for a dark yukata, and at first it seemed like it was black, but when he held it up against his white t-shirt, it was obvious that it was a dark navy blue. When he held it up, he nodded. 

“What’s on the back?”

“Nothing,” Deku said, a bit too quickly. “It’s plain.”

“Liar. Let me see.” Bakugou reached out to grab it, but Deku turned away with a laugh. He was teasing him, and it made him madder. “Let me see, you irritating nerd!”

“Not yet!” How had they gotten here? Years ago, Deku would have gotten all jittery and nervous when he raised his voice, but now it was as normal as if he were talking to him like one of those losers from school. “I want it to be a surprise.”

“Tch.” Bakugou raised his nose before reaching past him to snag the sandals from the chest in the bottom of the closet. “Do what you want. I don’t care.”

And then, before he should have walked away, Deku draped the yukata on the wide sill of the window and took his shirt off.

That was another thing he had managed to get away with avoiding since UA: being in the vicinity of Deku when he was changing in or out of his hero costume. What had started as a loose jumpsuit in their high school years had gotten much tighter, not unlike what he wore himself as Ground Zero. It was what most heroes wore in some capacity, and it should have been fine but…

Those freckles spread across his shoulders, across his chest.

There were scars too, not just on his arms and hands - those he had gotten used to - but between his ribs (a slice from an asshole with a wild blade quirk), right above his belly button (a drill some madman had thrown at him), three nearly symmetrical down his side (claws). More freckles on his stomach. And his chest rose and fell softly as his hands went down to his pants and...stopped.

Stopped, because he was staring at him. Noticing him, the way Bakugou gripped the fabric in his hands, only just barely lucky enough that his fingers weren’t smoking.



“You’ll just drop trow anywhere, won’t you?!” Bakugou’s shame at being caught ignited into a frustrated anger. So fucking stupid, staring like a damn fish, the fuck… “Shameless shitty Deku…”

“Sorry! Sorry, I thought you...I mean, I thought we--!”

The sliding door closed with a decisive slap as Bakugou stood on the other side, in the bedroom where their futons had been laid out, one hand over his mouth as he breathed through his nose, trying to calm down. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Fuck. Fuck!

He had never taken his clothes off so angrily, throwing them onto the tatami floor and thrusting his arms through the sleeves of the yukata, as if the clothing were obviously to blame and not his inability to be a fucking adult and deal with how he felt. Seriously, had there ever been anything he hadn’t told Deku? Maybe not kindly but had at least said to his face?

He had apologized for...everything...hadn’t he?

And nothing could be as hard as that.

Nothing except possibly that he…

A small, rhythmic rapping came from just outside the door, and he heard Deku quietly say, “Hey. Sorry about that. I should have asked.”

How did they make it worse? Bakugou wasn’t some fucking prude. “Whatever. It’s not like you’ve got anything I haven’t seen.” He glanced back. In the light from the hallway, he could see the outline of him: wild hair, the folds of the robe going down his front, one hand up, near where Bakugou’s face hovered on the other side. 

“Can I see?” he asked, somehow in a voice that even lower. 

“It ain’t like you’ve never seen me in a yukata before, you nerd.” Swallowing, he tried to will away whatever warmth had risen in his face and slid the panel open between them. “Our folks used to take us to the summer and fall festivals all the time when we were…” 

Bakugou trailed off as he found himself staring at Deku in the dark navy yukata, his chest peeking out from underneath. Now that it was on him, he could see there were small spots of silver all over the sleeves and across the front, and when Deku turned around, there was a large moon on the back, created with swirls of white, gray and slivers of purple.

“,” he finally finished, dumbly.

“You aren’t mad, are you? I can change if it’s know.” Deku gestured between them, like there was a connection between his moon and Bakugou’s sun. Even just the small movement made it open up further in front, showing off his muscles, the start of his abs, and--

“I don’t give a shit what you wear as long as you’re actually going to wear it. God.” Bakugou grabbed the front of the robe and pulled it tighter together, pressing and more firmly tightening the waist. 

“Kacchan, I can do it!”

“Clearly you can’t!”

Deku didn’t snatch his arms so much as put his hands on his wrists, and when Bakugou went to glare into his face, Deku wore an expression that could only be described as...earnest? Serious. Breathing hard. Flush. If Bakugou let go, he’d look like a coward. And that wasn’t an option. He committed to the firm tugs of the fabric, the way he pressed the seams, straightening them out. When he put his hand on his middle, on his sides, he tried to deal with making everything neater and tidier instead of listening to the quiet, shuddering breaths coming from Deku’s slightly-parted lips.

“There. Now you’re halfway fucking presentable.”

Taking his hips, he turned him to the mirror was supposed to save him from this entire moment, but it didn’t. Instead, it just made it all the more apparent how much they seemed to be in sync. Dark and light. Subdue and peaceful against a fiery backdrop.

An eclipse.

“Thanks, Kacchan.” Deku laughed nervously and twisted his fingers together. “D-don’t get too mad if I need your help after trying out the bath, okay?”

The bath.


But the weather had other plans. By the time they got settled in and somewhat unpacked - at least enough that their belongings weren’t strewn across the tidy, formal space - storm clouds gathered and rolled in, making the trees shiver. The thunder rolled into the mountains in a way that seemed easy-going; not causing a crashing ruckus but softly bellowing as the rain began to fall. Lightning lit up the space between the leaves and trunks, and they watched it silently when dinner was delivered. 

“I hope it’s enough,” the owner said, rain dripping from his whiskers that hung out from under the umbrella. 

Deku removed the stone lid from the platter to reveal a beautiful arrangement of nigiri and sashimi, and he sputtered an insistent, “No, no, of course not! It’s perfect! Please stay warm tonight!”

“You too! There’s some sake on the shelf. Please feel free to help yourself! It’s all included with the stay.”

The old man winked, and Bakugou pretended not to notice, nursing instead a melon soda he got from the fridge.

Once they were both satisfied with the fruit and dinner that had been brought out for them, it was time to check out the bath at last. The two were on opposite ends of the space: obviously the one outside couldn’t be used in the storm, but the one inside seemed to be much more modern, with separate showers on either side of a small room, then a door leading into a large square bath. 

“If I catch you trying to look at me while I shower, I’ll kick your ass,” Bakugou declared.

“Yeah, well, same to you,” Deku responded resolutely. “Not that we haven’t shared a shower before...or an onsen for that matter…”

“That doesn’t matter!” Bakugou’s bellow was louder than the thunder. He stomped over to the left side of the room, taking off his yukata and hanging it in the small closet with his slippers to keep them from being affected by the humidity. Then, he picked up the water bucket, dumped it over his head (forcing himself not to react to it, because no way was he going to let Deku think he was cold) and then started scrubbing himself down.

“Brrrr!” Deku wasn’t nearly as conscientious. “Cold!”

He didn’t say anything. He tried not to imagine the effect that the cold water would have on him, giving his skin a pink tint, making him shiver. He rubbed extra hard between his toes so he worked on getting clean over picturing how stupid Deku got himself cleaned up, soapy hands across his chest, on his backside…

He turned the spray on as hot as it would go, practically scalding himself as the bubbles floated down the drain. 

“Ahh!” Deku cried out, and Bakugou spun instinctively. It was...hardly a sexy sight, really, since Deku was doing a little dance, rubbing his legs together. “Are you using all the hot water right now?! Mine’s going cold!”

Deku stopped the moment he realized Bakugou was facing him. There was no way his eyes weren’t moving, scanning him, from Bakugou’s chest to his midsection and--

“What the hell do you think you’re looking at?!” Bakugou turned back around, hands instinctively going between his legs.

“Nothing! I mean, not nothing, but...don’t yell, Kacchan!”

“Just wait until I’m in the bath, got it?!” Although he made sure to double check that he was cleaned off, he hurriedly stepped through the door and into the tub. It was actually much deeper than it looked from the showers, and when Bakugou sat down, it came up to his neck. There was a green tint to the water from the salts and minerals, a slightly herbal aroma touching Bakugou’s nose.

As much as he still wanted to be annoyed, it really was relaxing. 

“Okay,” Deku called out, once his shower was turned off. “Are you ready? Can I get in?”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t make a big deal about it.” 

Bakugou let his line of sight fall on the surface of the water rather than have it rise up at Deku’s approach. Which...didn’t actually make that much of a difference because the reflection caught everything in the few seconds before he stepped gingerly into the water. His freckled legs. His pubes and package and the curve of his ass…

“Oof, it’s deep, huh?” Deku laughed as the water rose to his chin. 

“It’s better this way. I hate shitty baths where it comes up under your arms. What’s the point?”

“Mmm…” Why did Deku have to make that noise? It made Bakugou want to shiver. “It feels so good after the trip here. I’ve never stayed at a place that had more than one bath, let alone had them both be private.”

Bakugou couldn’t disagree. That was always what kept him away from dealing with most hot springs, frankly. Not only did he hate taking time off, but also he hated sharing space with losers and extras. “I guess that lady had a lot of extra cash she could throw around…”

“We should send a thank you note!”

“Feh. I’ll leave that to you.” 

Deku rested his head against the edge of the bath. The steam did little to obfuscate his soft face, the happy little smile that seemed to stay permanent on it as he unwound. He stretched out and Bakugou felt something on his ankle in the murky green close to the bottom. He waited for a moment, figuring Deku would pull back, because seriously how would the dumbass not realize that he had hit Bakugou’s leg, but--

He didn’t. He trailed his toes up and then down.

“Deku,” Bakugou growled, low and not entirely full of rage as much as embarrassment. “The fuck are you doing?”


“That’s my leg.”

The response was immediate, profound and...wet. Because Deku leapt back onto the ledge on his side like Bakugou had told him that there was a shark or something. “Sorry! I thought it was a fixture! Or...or something!”

Bakugou watched as Deku sank back into the water from where he had been halfway out of it. He had seen almost everything, soaked and warm and dripping. And Deku could tell it too, because when he got back in, he tried to hide himself as much as humanly possible. “Just. Quit spazzing out!” Bakugou finally snarled.

The storm had eased off when they went to bed (after the futons had been dragged so far apart that Bakugou was practically pressed into the wall), but the rain provided a gentle percussion against the roof. He waited for the sound of the drops to lull him to sleep, but somehow through it, he could still make out Deku’s soft and and out…

Lightning flashed for the first time in over an hour and of course it made a perfect pattern across Deku’s shoulder where he slept, the yukata opened and revealing the line of muscle from arm to neck to his face. His fingers were balled up under his cheek and he made a little noise like a cat sleeping and Bakugou became dead certain beyond any shadow of a doubt that this would be what killed him. Not a villain, but the sight of sleeping, stupid Deku.

After another period of restlessness, he kicked the futon covers away and tip-toed out of the room as quietly as possible. When he wandered into the open room overlooking the woods beyond, he made his way to one of the chairs and gazed out into the wet world beyond. Compared to the dark bedroom, it was so light, so easy to see everything.

He collapsed into one of the chairs and breathed a long sigh. Maybe he would just get exhausted enough that he could wander back in and pass out. But in the meanwhile...what the fuck was he supposed to do?

Mess with his phone? Nope. He left it in the bedroom. It was dead to him.

Read a book? If he turned on a light, Deku would immediately come sprinting out trying to find out what was going on.


Bakugou glanced down his own yukata to his spread thighs. He couldn’t do...that...could he? Well, why the hell not? He was sitting here alone...maybe it would help release some of the tension that refused to leave. And as soon as his mind asked, ‘what if Deku came out?’ the suggestion gave way to detailed fantasy.

Reaching down, he started rubbing the outline of his cock, staying over the dense garment. 

Deku, coming out, trying to talk to him, ask him what he was doing. “What the fuck does it look like?” Bakugou asks, cock already in hand. Deku wants to help, and he says so, and Bakugou juts his chin at him. “Sure. About time we find something useful to do with that mouth of yours.”

(Would he seriously say something like that? No, of course he wouldn’t. Well, maybe, but not a first time like that. Shit, what would he do? Ugh, stop thinking so much, you’re ruining it.)

He wanders over, and Bakugou reaches out to smack the other side of the yukata open so it falls down his arm. It’s hanging off him, only covering him from the waist down. “On your knees, Deku.”

Bakugou gasped, reaching in to get to his briefs so he could get a better rub. Harder this time. His cock was hard and full, rising in his hand.

Deku sinks down. Those wide eyes are on his as he tentatively give his dick a lick, dragging his lips up to the head. “Does it taste good?” Bakugou asks, and he nods weakly, nervously, and he sucks at the head softly.

He had to get it out. He had to get it into his hand. Bakugou fumbled the yukata open and guided his erection through the opening of his briefs, stroking it in a long pull and rubbing the tip with his thumb. Even with his soft fingers, it wasn’t like what Deku’s mouth would be like, sucking him, kissing him, licking him…

“Kacchan…” he moans, arms going around his middle. Bakugou allows himself the opportunity to get a hand into the mess of his hair and bring him in.

“Open. Nice and wide.”

It didn’t really sound like his voice, in his mind, but that didn’t matter. Now, Bakugou jerked and fucked himself with his hand, biting his lip to keep quiet even though he was satisfied that the steady rain would mask the sound of rubbing in the darkness.

He's got him down his throat, the perfect amount of plush lips, giving tongue and tightness. He makes a ring with his thumb and forefinger, then adds the middle one too. As he's blowing him Deku is also rubbing up and down with steady, firm touches.

"More. Faster." 

Deku chokes a little bit when he pushes down on the back of his head, not entirely meaning to but also not exactly restraining himself either.

Close. So close.

Bakugou barely had time to move the robe out of the way before he came in his hand, strings coating his fingers and down his knuckles. It dripped onto his thighs as well and he sank down into the chair to try and keep it from touching the seat.

"Deku." It was like the name was pushed out by the force of a wave of pleasure. He squeezed his cock, milking it as he pulled. "Deku…"

If not for the sudden illumination of the room as the lightning broke, he might have gone on like that and never realized that he wasn't alone. In the doorway, half behind the panel, he could now see the form of Deku that stared at him across the floor. He was holding his yukata shut, and their eyes met.

Bakugou didn't move. He didn't breathe. It was too late for any of that because surely he had seen it all. If he yelled at him, it would be an acknowledgement that he wouldn't be able to take back. There would be no pretending that this didn't actually happen, that Deku hadn't caught him with his cock in his hand and his name on his lips.

So instead he sat and waited for the quick pattern of slippered feet to return to the bedroom and go silent. Then, he cleaned up, closed his robe and returned to his own futon.

The last thing that he thought about as he drifted into unconsciousness was whether it was just his imagination, or if Deku was hard too.


Breakfast couldn't have been more awkward if they tried.

"My my, what a long storm last night!" The hot spring owner's wife came to bring them their breakfast the next morning with their baby bundled against her chest. They were capybaras too, and if not for the difference in her voice they might have confused her for him. "I do hope that you both slept well even despite the noise."

They shared a mumbled confirmation while stuffing rice, pickled vegetables, miso soup and omelets in their mouths.

"My husband was up at dawn to clean out the springs. You'll find them all ready for you as soon as you're done eating."

The only sound was a soft wheeking noise from the baby, and the open and close of the door as she let herself out.

Well. There was no point in being coy now. Without a word to Deku, Bakugou got up and walked to the undressing room, peeling his yukata off and letting it drop to the floor. If anything, this part should be easy shouldn't it? It wouldn't be any different from any other shower that they shared over the years. As long as they didn't say anything about what had happened the night before, there wouldn't be any bloodshed.

He could feel Deku behind him. That’s right. No eye contact, no talking, and definitely no physical contact.

He slid the door open to the shower and the bath beyond.

...only to find there was only one washing station and a long stool. Obviously to be shared.

“...oh,” Deku said behind him, the first thing that had actually been spoken out loud all morning. In the corner of Bakugou’s peripheral vision, he could see that the dumbass was already naked too, rubbing his chin. They couldn’t use the showers on the opposite side of the guesthouse and track water across the tatami floor. “I guess we could take turns if we run out of hot water?”

Bakugou glared at him. “Did you just fucking say ‘what if we run out of hot water’ at a hot spring?”

“It’s a different kind of water connected to an outdoor onsen!” Deku was blushing again, waving his hands frantically. “I just mean that I wouldn’t want you to end up cold, or--”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t go first?!”

Once again, they were at an impasse: on one side of all this, Bakugou knew that if he pushed enough, Deku would just leave and wait to get a turn in the bath. But then, once more, that would be an admission of what had happened the night before, and that what had happened had meant something, and…

That wasn’t acceptable. Not at all. 

“Come on, you fucking dork.” Deku yelped as Bakugou grabbed his arm and pulled him in, pushing him down until he sat on the bench. He sank down next to him, picking up the bucket beside Deku and emptying it over his head. This time, Deku shrieked. “Don’t be a baby!”

“It’s cold!!”

“That’s the point!”

Then Deku did something he never would have done when they were younger: he laughed, reached past Bakugou, stole his bucket and splashed the whole thing on him. Not over his head, which was the appropriate way, but in a full body splash that immediately woke up every nerve on his stomach and chest. “How do you like it, huh?!”

“I’ll kill you!” 

That was it. They were supposed to be awkwardly cleaning each other, and instead, Bakugou tackled Deku off the stool, sending him falling onto the now slippery, wet floor. “Kacchan! Don’t! We’re supposed to be getting clean!”

“Don’t laugh at me! You started this!” Was Bakugou laughing? He was. He didn’t know why, he should have been pissed, that was just usually how this all went, but...maybe it was the fact that this was happening, that it had shattered through the tension, but it felt more like a relief than anything else.

“You literally started it!!” Deku howled when Bakugou grabbed at his side under his armpit, a spot he knew was ticklish. “Kacchan, stop!”

“Not until you admit I’m number one!”

“You know we’re tied in the ranks!!”

“Fuck your tie!” He was smiling so hard that his face hurt, and then Deku’s skin crackled with an energy just below the surface. That was something he wasn’t ready for, not until after Deku rolled him, pinning his wrists to the floor.

They both breathed hard, panting.


Bakugou’s hair was still mostly dry, but Deku’s was hanging in his face, a piece in his eye. The thumb of one hand rubbed the center of Bakugou’s palm, and he didn’t even slap it away.

“Don’t use your shitty quirk on me,” Bakugou growled at him.

“It’s not shitty, and you know it.”

“Hmph.” They should stop this. They were going to do something they were going to regret. Or Bakugou, for sure. And yet...looking up at Deku like was such the opposite of what it was like imagining him the night before. “What’re you going to do? Just fucking stare at me?”


“Then don’t be a damn quitter.” Bakugou tipped his head up at him, narrowing his red, angry eyes. This could go two ways, and he damn well knew it. If Deku let him up, he’d probably punch him or something and go back to getting lathered up for the bath. If he didn’t, would depend, right? It would probably be the former option, anyway. Deku wouldn’t--

He kissed him.

Deku kissed him. 

Hard. So hard he figured that he might joke later about how he may as well have yelled ‘smash!’ before doing it. But it didn’t suck. Far from it, in fact. It just seemed very...pent up. Held in and then released, suddenly, like something exploding.

That was something Bakugou could relate to.

Deku had gotten so into kissing him that he forgot about the hold on his hands almost entirely. It made it easy to get his hand on his face and push him back a little. “Fuck, ease up.” He did, but only for a second, nearly devouring his mouth again a second later. “Can I breathe for a second?! God, are you a fucking tween again?”

Deku pulled back, blinking as though he was just realizing what he was doing. He brought up an arm so he could push his face into the bend of it. “Oh my god, I didn’t even ask you first…”

“Uh, so?” He tried to pry the arm away, biting Deku’s nose for good measure. He completely ignored him.

“I should have! might not have wanted it! Do you want it?” Bakugou had to chuckle because he was absolutely beyond distressed. 

Do you think I’m going to jerk off thinking about someone I would mind kissing me? That’s what he wanted to say, but he didn’t. He took Deku’s cheeks in his hands and glowered up at him. “If I didn’t want you to do it, I would have stopped you before you did it. You would have known. I just also need you to not smother me, you idiot.”

Deku seemed to calm down a little, so he leaned up to kiss him, trapping his lip between his for a moment and tugging it. Despite how close their faces were, he could tell he had that shaky, nervous smile on his face. “I’ve wanted to kiss you forever, Kacchan. I’ve wanted to do more than that, too, but I thought you’d freak out and kill me.”

“Still might. Undecided.”

“And...honestly I thought after last night, you wouldn’t even get near me again…”

Bakugou sighed. Well, that clearly wasn’t going to matter as much now, though the shame hit his insides the same way the cold water had hit his skin. “Fucking voyeur…”

“Kacchan! Don’t call me that!” 

“How long were you even standing there, huh?” He pushed Deku up and off of him, then immediately pulled him back to the stool. “Obviously long enough…”

“I was worried!” Deku put his hands over his lap as Bakugou turned on the water, finally wetting his hair and giving Deku a fresh wash too. Goosebumps had raised over his flesh, and he rubbed them away like dirt. “I thought you weren’t feeling well.”


“Uh-huh.” He picked up a bottle of soap and squirted some of the rich blue liquid into his hand. As he lathered himself up, he glanced over and realized Deku hadn’t moved, so he gave him a push. “Come on. The sooner we clean off the sooner we can get in the bath.”

“I-I can’t yet.” He pressed his hands down harder, and pulled back when Bakugou grabbed his wrist. “Don’t!”

“We just made out on the floor and you caught me masturbating, you nerd! I don’t care about seeing your dick!” Bakugou pinched one of Deku’s nipples (hard, he noticed, alert), and his fingers flailed up to stop him, revealing his cock.

His. Rather hard. Cock.

“Sorry!!” Deku covered his face all over again, this time with his hands. “I’m...god, I’m really sensitive, okay?”

“Obviously, if a kiss gets you going that much.” He didn’t answer, clearly not knowing what to do about the situation. And to be fair, neither did Bakugou really. Fantasizing and kissing was one thing. And they didn’t have lube, and he certainly wasn’t going to put soap up his ass and have it get irritated, so. “C’mere.”

“W-what?” Bakugou didn’t really give Deku much choice as he scooped him up and put him in his lap. Rinsing his hand off, he reached between them and took hold of Deku’s erection, around the shaft in a firm hold. “K-Kacchan--”

“Relax.” He pulled his head down the few inches by the back of the neck, and this time he could actually pinpoint the moment Deku melted at the contact of their lips touching. He seemed to let Bakugou lead the kiss this time, and when his tongue made its way into Deku’s mouth, he noticed the perfect twitch of his cock. 

Deku whimpered. “It feels so good…”

“Yeah?” Bakugou glanced down. Deku had a pretty satisfying-looking cock, actually. It seemed like it fit him. Not too big, not too small. Just right. And his dark green pubes were cute. Not that he hadn’t seen them before, but definitely not this close. When he pulled upward, Deku moaned, a bead of pre appearing at his hole as he wrapped his arms around Bakugou’s shoulders. 

“I’m not...too heavy...right?”

“Seriously? Of course you’re not. I’m not that fucking weak.” Bakugou tipped his head to kiss Deku’s neck, and that got a fresh, new sound all its own. He chuckled again. “You really are sensitive…”

He didn’t bother arguing with him over it. Instead, Deku’s hips jumped a bit, and he inclined his throat just so. “More…”

There wasn’t any telling which he wanted more of, but Bakugou guessed that it was quite probably both, so he gave it to him. His teeth skimmed his pulse, sucking at his jaw liberally while he moved his hand quicker. Deku wiggled, toes cracking as they curled. His moans got higher, gasping eagerly. 

“Kacchan...Kacchan…” Now, Bakugou moaned as Deku gripped his hair at the roots, holding on for dear life (or so it absolutely felt). “Kacchan--!”

It was probably a good thing that Bakugou had been forced into having his face up because when Deku came, it was like a small geyser exploding. His spunk went everywhere, splashing on Bakugou’s hand and more on his chest, on Deku’s stomach, even on the underside of his chin. “Fuck, Deku…”

“Mmm…” His head fell heavily on Bakugou’s shoulder. “That was...ahhh…”

“‘Ahhh’ huh?” Bakugou frowned down at his own cock, which, although coated in come, was untouched and now angrily standing up at him. 

Deku quickly noticed too. “Oh, Kacchan, do you want me don’t mind helping.”

“That right?” Bakugou smirked, but considered it for a moment. If Deku treated handjobs or blowjobs like he did kissing, he would probably spend more time telling him what to do than actually enjoying it. Then, when an aftershock made Deku’s legs squeeze around his thighs, he got a different idea. “On the floor. All fours, but...face the other way.”

Deku glanced up, like he was trying to see if Bakugou was serious. When he saw how he had locked his jaw - it had taken a certain degree of steeling himself to make the request, not nearly as easy as Pornstar Bakugou in his fantasy - his eyes got a bit bigger. Eager. Careful so he wouldn’t fall on his face, he lowered himself to the floor, getting on his hands and knees. He looked over his shoulder. “L-like this?”

Bakugou nodded, swallowing. Like this. Because like this he could see everything: Deku’s round cheeks, his hole, the slope of his back. And most importantly, at least for right now, his soft, full thighs. “Relax your legs, but once I move in, keep ‘em tight.”

“Uh...okay.” Deku didn’t sound particularly certain, but Bakugou had a feeling he would get the idea quickly once he took a hold of each leg, opening them just enough to where he could slot his cock between them. “Ah!”

“Okay?” Bakugou watched the warm red rise all the way up to the tips of Deku’s ears. “Deku?”

“Y-yeah. It’s fine. It’s okay. It’s good. I’m good. I’m fine,” he rambled, but as Bakugou suspected, he tightened his legs up around his dick. “Does this feel good for you?”

Bakugou nodded and started shallowly thrusting his hips, settling into a steady rhythm. He moaned at how good it felt, in fact, and it made him wonder: if Deku’s thighs felt this amazing, what would it be like to be inside of him?

“Fuck…” he groaned, grabbing Deku’s ass and kneading it with both hands. “Mmmm…”

Deku dropped his head onto his hands, panting audibly. It was like fucking him in every way except the, well, technical aspects. Bakugou shuddered when he felt small fingertips touch the head of his cock when he pressed it in deeper. 

“What? Have you do this forever, too?” Bakugou teased, giving one cheek a little slap.

“S-something like it.” Then he buried his face into his arms again, and Bakugou wondered if he had given that much thought before he said it. 

He continued to press on, thrusting. How could Deku’s legs be both so achingly soft and supple but possess the power of thousands of kicks while he had trained his legs for all those years since they were teens? Shit, even thinking about getting to press his face between them was enough to make him feel a little too heady...too excited…

Bakugou choked as he came suddenly into the cavern between Deku’s legs. It coated them easily, as well as the floor under Deku. It was a little perfect that they had opted to do this here, though, where everything could wash away down the drain. Deku looked so shaky that Bakugou scooped him back up to sit on the stool, in case he was about to collapse. “Don’t fucking pass out on me.”

“I’m not, I…”

Bakugou’s eyes cut down at Deku’s cock. It was hard to explain it but it seemed to be...straining? Bobbing? “...did you just come again?” Deku went completely silent, and Bakugou couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to his mouth. “You’re going to be fucking insatiable, aren’t you?”


Once they were actually suitably washed and rinsed, they both collapsed onto the sitting stones around the bath. Bakugou couldn’t remember the last time he had needed a long, satisfying soak so badly...and he certainly never would have thought it would be shared with his hand lazily holding Deku’s beneath the surface. 

All around them, the sounds of the wind rustling the trees and the birds singing made it seem almost a little too domestic, a little too picturesque for his liking. But after what they just did, Bakugou was too tired to actually break the moment.

...except when he felt Deku staring at him from his side.

“Quit lookin’ at me like that,” he mumbled. “You’re all...gushy and stuff.”

“I’m not gushy. I just...I didn’t really see it coming, is all.” Deku took his hand back so when he dipped his hair into the warm water, he could push it out of his face. The curls still rebelled, though, springing around his face. 

“Don’t do that either.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Ugh.” Bakugou floated away from the side of the bath, picking up one of Deku’s feet and kneading it with his fingers. “It’s gross.” How cute you’re being. I’m not used to it.

Deku groaned, leaning his head back and spreading his arm on either side of himself. Bakugou methodically found all the knots in his foot, where the heel had been pulled a little too tight, where the ball was tense. He told himself it was just because he needed something to do with his hands, that if left to his own devices he would end up doing something inappropriate. Again.

Or, worse, they would just keep cuddling and shit.

“That feels so good,” Deku asked, puffing a breath across the steaming water. “Where did you learn to do this kind of thing?”

“Do you remember our fight with All Might? During our exams?” Deku nodded. “It wasn’t the first time I felt the toll my quirk had on my muscles, but it kind of fucking drove the point home. So I did a lot of reading after that to make sure I was giving them the attention they needed. Didn’t trust anyone else to do it.”

“But-- bbllrgh .” Deku’s mouth dropped into the water as Bakugou abruptly picked up the other one and started working on it too. “But Recovery Girl was there. She could have gotten you someone to help.”

Bakugou’s eyes cut through the haze over the top of the bath. “I didn’t want someone else to help. I didn’t need to rely on someone else. And I’m glad I started then, because I still don’t.”

Deku scooted forward until he was hovering near him. In the buoyant water, he lifted his free leg and wrapped it around Bakugou’s waist, effectively putting him back into his lap. “No one at all?” he asked, kissing the curve next to Bakugou’s nose. 

With a snarl, Bakugou let go of the foot he had been massaging and yanked Deku in, fingers digging into his ass. “That’s not what this is. Don’t get the wrong idea.”

He didn’t reply, which was probably for the best. Bakugou still wasn’t sure how he felt about any of this, and as much as he could at one moment kiss Deku (or fuck his thighs, it seemed), there was still this itch below the surface that could result in him shoving him away just as quickly. 

He nipped his ear instead, making Deku wince. “Ow, Kacchan.”

“Don’t be a fucking baby.” With a soft ‘hmm’ in his throat, he planted another bite just beside his Adam’s apple. It jumped along with the gasp that passed from Deku’s lips. “See? You like it.”

Another kiss. Not as desperate this time. “You’re so mean,” Deku whispered into his open mouth.

“Clearly you like that too.”


Once they had gotten out of the bath, dried off and gotten back into those yukatas, the lack of sleep from the night before combined with the deeply relaxing warmth of the hot spring made Bakugou realize how tired he was. 

“I need a fucking nap. I’m about to pass out.”

“Drink some water first. So you stay hydrated.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, dammit.” Even as he said it, though, Bakugou grabbed the bottle of water Deku offered him from the mini fridge. They drank together, standing and looking out into the forest. Well, Deku drank. He did more staring. Staring, because as Deku took several large swallows, a trickle of water passed from the corner of his mouth and down his neck, where Bakugou had left a red spot during their...activities.

Deku blinked when he brought the bottle back down and wiped his face with his hand. “What?”

“Nothing.” He went back into the bedroom and laid down on the futon, closing his eyes and trying to get every constant image of Deku out of his mind, flipping on repeat through his brain. 

He dreamed. Of course he did. It was rare that he didn’t dream. He asked someone once why that was the case, when so many others would mention sleepless nights, and the doctor explained that the explosive quality of his quirk, when also taken into context with his high IQ, meant that his synapses could be also firing off the same way that his physical body did. 

Sometimes they were good dreams. Of him, as a hero, making the people around him proud and being told that he was Number One.

Other times, they were harder to deal with. Fights that he hadn’t won - the first one with Deku at UA, when he was captured by the League of Villains, Nabu Island - and fights that others had suffered through. All Might. Kirishima after the Overhaul mission. 

And Deku. Several times. 

And this time, too, there were images firing off of Deku breaking his body raw, breathing hard, blood dripping down his face and turning his hair darker. But instead of it making him feel the worry or stress - sometimes he woke up from the dreams on the edge of a panic attack and had to take one of the pills he kept near his bedside table - he found his dream self drawn in, and when Deku straightened himself and smiled, the last thing he remembered was his knees feeling just a little weak.

In fact, when he woke up, he thought maybe he was still dreaming. Because in the futon...he wasn’t alone. Not anymore, not like when he pulled the covers up around him. He could feel an arm around his middle, pulling him into another body behind him, and he stiffened at the realization that Deku was asleep too, steady breaths ruffling the back of his hair.

A part of him screamed, let go, let go, let go! But…


Deku didn’t just have an arm leisurely around his waist. He was clutching him, pulling him back until his spine lined up against his front. The other hand stroked his hair back, which had dried messily on his pillow. He could just barely feel his nose snuggled against the nape of his neck.

No one had ever held him like this. And it wasn’t like Bakugou had never slept with anyone else. There were definitely piles with the ‘squad’ that had happened at UA, and Kirishima slept better when he stayed the night in Bakugou’s dorm.


Deku’s fingers brushed just under the waistline of his briefs in the folds of the yukata. That certainly woke him up entirely now, even though he could tell Deku was still passed out. What was worse, it also made him extremely aware of the tightness of the material around his dick…

That was fairly common too. Unfortunately. But normally he was either alone or he could get up and go take care of it in the bathroom. Or wait it out.

Not exactly an option at the present moment.

Closing his eyes again, he tried to go back to sleep. Deku rubbed up against his back. Against his ass. 

He tried to imagine the grossest fights he faced over the years. Bad smells. Gross people too, like...Mineta and that laughing asshole from 1B. Deku hummed and nosed at his hairline. It sounded like he was smiling.

And then his hand moved further down, carding through Bakugou’s pubes in time with the hand playing with his hair. Bakugou swallowed, and it was only at the moment when he rested his fingers on Deku’s wrist did he feel him jump. The point where Deku woke up was punctuated by a gasp and blinking. The nerd was even loud when he blinked, of course he was, how could Bakugou expect anything different from how long his lashes were…

Their arms both trembled. 

“K-kacchan?” he breathed. 

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have the moisture to do it in his throat, on his tongue.

Deku shifted a bit, and there was an accompanying bulge that pressed right between Bakugou’s asscheeks. It throbbed, that became evident, and Deku pressed just slightly in. There was still all the fabric between them, but nevertheless, the sensation of it forced a moan from the center of Bakugou’s chest.

“Y-you’re awake.” He sounded relieved, and his other hand - the one not still in his fucking pants - stroked a circle between his shoulders. There was no way this position was comfortable for him, but he probably had other things on his mind. 

“Of course I am. Like I’d have much choice now not to be.” He rolled his hips, pressing back, and Deku groaned, his cheek on the side of his neck.

“D-did you want me to sto--”

“If you even finish that sentence, I’ll fucking kill you. Open your yukata, though. It’s rude to make someone else clean up your mess.”

“Right. Yeah.” It was hard for Bakugou to not go a little dizzy when Deku lifted the back of his yukata before opening his. It bunched at his waist as he listened to the sound of him clumsily tossing his own open at the front. They were both still very much clothed, was out of the way, and that was what was important. “You’re so hot, Kacchan…”

“Nngh…” When Bakugou stuck his ass out, he could tell that Deku had freed his cock from his briefs. The wet tip of it soaked his underwear where it pressed, then rubbed lengthwise between his ass. 

“I...I really didn’t mean were making sounds in your sleep, and I thought…”   

“I don’t care.” He grabbed Deku’s wrist and thrust it down until he had his cock and balls in his hand, and when he squeezed, his face pressed into his, clumsy and relying on instinct, a cattish gesture. Sandwiched now between Deku’s cock and his hand, playing with him, rubbing him this way and that, the last thing he wanted to do was think too much.

“It’s so’re so good...Kacchan…you have the most perfect body, and I know you know that, but I just need you to know how much this means for me to get to do this, oh god, Kacchan…”

His first instinct was to tell him to shut up, but that didn’t actually come out. The way Deku was saying that, meaning it, genuine and real, it warmed him up. It felt good. Too good. It wasn’t praise the way they worded it in the magazines, or in the hero reports and profiles. There was more to it. And maybe the worst part about it was that he wanted him to tell him more but there was about as much chance of that happening as him admitting how it made his cock harder. 

So he settled for just moaning his name while he reached up blindly to grip the back of his head. “Deku…”

Everything started blurring and becoming more frantic. Deku’s whole body was wiggling and moving, his hand clearly trying to squeeze and fondle and jerk in time with his hips. There was nothing graceful to this, and Bakugou didn’t care. Because in only a minute of the craze of their bodies moving, he reached down to press his cock against his belly, to keep the mess as contained as possible.

He was still coming, cross-eyed with bliss, when Deku yanked his briefs down and spilled all over his ass. “Ahh! Fuck!” Bakugou groaned as the feeling of thick wet coated his cheeks. He couldn’t tell if he was blushing from anger or arousal, certainly because that shouldn’t have been so fucking hot...especially not when Deku just pulled them back up. “The fuck, Deku…”

“I…” Deku choked a little, pressing his face into Bakugou’s hair. “I didn’t want it to get all over the futon!”

“We can change the sheets, you dumbass!”

“But you said--”

“I was worried about the yukatas! Those have to be hand-washed, you filthy...ugh, I can feel it everywhere!” He crawled out of the bed and headed gingerly to the bathroom. Absolutely fucking shameful. He rinsed his hands and removed his underwear, and he could see the shine of fluids on his cheeks. That...really should have bothered him as much as it did.

He still had his eyes on his reflection when Deku snuck in, arm slipping around his waist. He was biting his lip as their eyes met, and then he kissed his cheek. “Do you...want some help cleaning up?” he murmured.

Bakugou broke the contact between them first, snagging Deku’s arm as he stormed down the hall toward the shower. Again. “Damn right, you’re helping!”

“Kacchan! Don’t ruin the moment!”

“Shut up!”


“Kacchan, I’m so full…”

“Quit whining!”

Bakugou was not about to say that he too had been rendered fairly stuffed by the dinner they had that evening. It was like everything that they could have possibly liked brought out in a spread to their guest house: noodles of several spicy variations, katsudon, barbeque chicken that was cooked to the point it all but melted off the sticks, chiraishi…

And maybe Bakugou had finally relaxed a bit and warmed up one of the bottles of sake. They drank it slowly, savoring it, because it was definitely the best that they had ever had. Not that either of them were huge drinkers, but…

“Come on. Let’s finish the sake and have dessert in front of the television.” Bakugou picked up the bottle in one hand and two plates containing raindrop cakes, dusted with roasted soy bean flour and accompanied with a small circle of black sugar cane syrup. Bakugou had only ever heard of these before, and never thought he would get to try them.


Maybe it was the wine. It could have been making him too relaxed, or playful, or...whatever. Regardless, once the sake, cups and desserts were on the table in the TV room, he came back and scooped Deku off the floor. “Get going, you fucking wuss.”

Deku wrapped his arms around Bakugou’s neck, crying out. “Kacchan!”

“Chill out, I’m not going to fucking drop you. God.” Deku relaxed as he shook his head. “You overreact to everything…”

“Well, a few years ago, you would have dropped me,” he mumbled, cheek rubbing his. Bakugou pressed his mouth to it in something not quite a kiss.

“Yeah, well, a few years ago I wouldn’t have done any of the shit we’ve done today, so. It’s all firsts, okay?”

Deku nodded as he set him down on the couch beside him, an arm around his shoulders as he picked up the remote controller and turned on some mindless action movie about pirates. It was one he had seen before, but since it just started, it seemed like as good a choice as any to watch. Something to keep the silence from settling too heavily on top of them.

Not that his attention was on the movie so much, because the moment Deku picked up his cake and started eating it, he made it extremely hard to ignore. The way he so careful ate a tiny bite of it, nibbling just a bit of the crumbs with it and licking a drop of syrup off his finger. He could practically hear him taking mental notes on the consistency, the flavor…

Bakugou took a much bigger bite of it, all three components mixing on his tongue. It was unlike anything he had ever eaten. 

“You just dig right in, huh?” Deku giggled. Obviously Bakugou wasn’t the only one getting distracted.

“You mean just because I’m not preparing an essay on agar agar?”

“Is that what this is?!”

“Oh my god, Deku. You bring ‘hopelessly cute’ to a fucking literal place.”

There he went, blushing again. Red and adorable, and that wasn’t a word Bakugou used for anything ever, and he cuddled up against him as they finally finished their desserts, then the sake too. The movie kept playing, but Bakugou could feel himself ignoring it, as he and Deku touched. Not in any dramatically sexual way - unlike the way they had several times that day - but...little things.

Playing with Deku’s curls between his fingers. 

How Deku would rub at the inside of his wrist. 

The way he would find his knee and trace around the bone, making Deku jerk reflexively and giggle.

When he would just barely hear Deku breathe in as he nosed his shoulder before leaning up to bump his cheek with his nose.

The credits started rolling slowly down the screen. “Do you want to watch something else?” Bakugou asked, even as he yawned.

“It sounds like you would fall asleep during it.”

He shrugged. In the end, he just turned off the television and got up. Even for him, it was a little early for bed. He could just play on his phone, read over the hero news…

But he stopped short when Deku took a hold of his sleeve. “Kacchan?”

“I’m not carrying you anywhere else, you lazy bastard,” he teased, though he did stop and look back at him. Deku’s cheeks were rosy from - from the sake? - and he chewed on his bottom lip. “What?”

“I...I want you.”

At first, he almost said that he had him. Then and there, and earlier in the day, too, in other ways, but...then Deku shrugged off half of his yukata, and it ended up down his arm, which he slid out of it, and then he pulled the sash off. So when Bakugou brought him up to his feet and he let go of his sleeve for a moment, the entire thing just fell to the floor.

“When did you take your underwear off?” Bakugou murmured into his temple as he allowed Deku to start disrobing him, untying it and letting it open to where he could move in and huddle against his chest.

“Before dinner,” he whispered. “I kept meaning to ask...while we were eating, and then after, and just now I thought that if I didn’t ask now…”

“ wasn’t going to happen?” He trailed his mouth down the side of Deku’s cheek to his neck, then tipped his chin up to kiss him. In the dim light, he could make out how his chest rose and fell. His hands moved from the outside of his arms up to hold his face, forcing him to not to turn away.

“I just thought you wouldn’t want it or you’d get mad or it would make things weird…”

“Weirder than they already are?”

Deku gave him a little shake on the shoulders. “Kacchan, this is sex, though. And we literally just did...all the other things we did...just today. I thought you would feel like I was going too fast or something…”

“Do I seriously seem like the type who gives a shit about going fast?”

“But--eep!” Without any warning, Bakugou grabbed Deku’s waist and practically tossed him against his body, making him wrap his legs around him. “Hey!”

“Come on. We’re going to bed.” Bakugou smirked as his fingers found the crack of Deku’s ass and stroked up and down, walking to their room. Just the small touch made Deku keen. “God, you’re fucking ridiculous…”

“Don’t--mmm...don’t make fun, Kacchan…” He tightened his legs at his sides. “I haven’t know.”

Once they were inside again and Deku was on his back, Bakugou hovering over him, he started looking around for something they could use. If Deku wanted to fuck, he was going to have to deal with him poking around in his bag. “You haven’t what?” he asked as he searched.

“...I mean, with a...I haven’t with a guy, so…”

Bakugou stopped and returned his attention to Deku just in time to see him covering his face with his pillow. “Wait, so then...what? You and Round Cheeks?!” There was barely a nod. Bakugou had to laugh. “Holy shit, Deku.”

“It was just a couple of times in third year!” He smacked him with the pillow. Bakugou grabbed it and threw it away. “And it’s not like I haven’t dated, I just never found anyone I really wanted to, that’s all. I’ve done...other stuff...obviously.”

“Obviously,” Bakugou teased as he finally found something that would do: a small bottle of mineral oil. He rolled it in his palm. For a moment, he wanted to ask, was it because they weren’t me? But, first of all, did he really want the answer? And how could he even say it without sounding like he had an ego the size of Japan? Despite how nervous he seemed to be, Bakugou could make out a huffiness in Deku’s face, and he leaned down to kiss his way from his navel to his lips. “Deku. It’s fine. Relax.”

Deku pulled him back down for another soft kiss, keeping his eyes closed as he whispered, “I just don’t want to suck at it.”

“You won’t. Trust me.” He smiled as he sat back up on his knees. “I’m going to be doing the hard part anyway, okay? Just stay like this.”

Nodding, it seemed like he was trying to figure out what to do with his hands, finally settling on letting one rest on his chest, the other a little under his face, which was turned and gazing down at Bakugou while he opened the oil and spread it on three fingers. Deku’s eyes followed as he brought his hand down between his legs and-- “Ahh!”

It was just one, and Bakugou wasn’t in a rush to add more. Deku’s ass was as tight as his thighs had been, and he carefully circled the inside of him with his middle finger. That alone had Deku writhing.

He was going to ask him if he was okay, but then he got his answer when a small, strangled ‘more’ passed Deku’s lips.

Okay. Fine.

Bakugou pulled his hand back and added his index finger, pressing both in now, a little deeper. Evidently, it was a damn good thing that they were doing this in this nice, private space for just the two of them, because if Deku had been vocal in the shower, he was already hollering in the bedroom in comparison. He gripped either side of the futon and the whole upper half of his body bent. “Kacchan...mmmmmohgod, Kacchan…”

“Feels good, huh?” he asked, rhetorically, enjoying the display of Deku’s body already enthralled on just two fingers. “Don’t come yet...I haven’t even really gotten into it.”

It was a lot to ask, given the stream of arousal that bounced up and down on Deku’s belly, pooling and creating a thick string around his belly button. “Please, Kacchan...please, please, please…”

“We’re seriously going to have to work on your stamina. It’s day one of training all over again.” This was fun. Not just the fingering, fantastic as it was, but also teasing Deku, making him shudder and ache for him. 

The pleading was a nice touch too, he had to admit.

“Fuck me, Kacchan...I need it!” Bakugou crooked his fingers, sending Deku into a whole new series of conniptions. “Please, I can’t stand it! Fuck, fuck--!”

Bakugou pulled back. It gave Deku a chance to breathe (gasping for air like he was going to pass out on the spot) and for him to toss off the rest of his yukata while he got a good amount of oil on his dick. Had he ever actually even heard Deku say ‘fuck’ before? Not that he was as pure as the driven snow as many of the reporters liked to believe, but...he just wasn’t as crass as Bakugou or some of the other guys from school.

But then, no one had treated him the same way as Bakugou, so…

The moment he had climbed up on top of him, Deku sat up to kiss him, hard and needy, clinging for all he was worth and wrapping his legs up high so he was angled to take him in. Bakugou pressed forward, getting just his head in before he had to pause. “Relax…”

“I...I…” Could this really count to say he was fucking Deku incoherent, if he wasn’t even really fucking him yet? “Kacchan…!”

“Just ease up so I can get in. It’ll feel a lot better. Breathe with me.”

Deku nodded and forced himself to come down a little, and for a few seconds, they did just that: breathed in time, coming off from the high. It was something they were taught in a later class, because for kids just starting to learn to be heroes, they had to soak up the adrenaline as much as possible. But as they got older, they had to learn how to curb it, control it, come back from that shaky edge of too much all at once.

When he knew that Deku had unclenched just enough, he pushed through the resistance and was in, fully and completely. Then, he started moving, a steady pace, and this time, when Deku started moaning in his ear again, he did too, thrusting forward, bodies pressed together. 

Deku scratched his back. That would be visible in the bath tomorrow…

Bakugou pulled his hair a little too much, and a few strands came out between his fingers. No one would really notice with what a mess it normally was…

They both bit each other. Bakugou probably just a little more than Deku, but he certainly got into it, especially when Bakugou made the comment about how fucking loud he was. 

In the end of it, Bakugou pulled out. Not because he didn’t want to finish in Deku, but because he didn’t know how he felt about sharing the bath the next morning with him...full of him, still leaking, still feeling it. Fuck, even considering that made Bakugou come harder, gathering Deku in tight like he was only his to have.

Like he belonged to him.

Deku let him, and they fell asleep just like that, without moving.


“I guess it’s a good thing we gave ourselves time to enjoy the bath before we left,” Deku said sheepishly at Bakugou’s side in the hot spring. He was holding his hand again, smiling dopily. 

“You should have pushed me off and I could have cleaned us up.” Fucking gross. God.

“No way!” He laughed and licked Bakugou's cheek. “I liked it too much...and I liked how you felt on top of me, so...I didn’t want to spoil it, you know?”




Deku was quiet for a second, threading his fingers between Bakugou’s. “When we go back to the agency and we’re around everyone again, it’ll be okay, right?”

“Of course it will be.” Bakugou squeezed. “And what are they going to say, huh? They know I’ll fucking destroy any of them who try to talk shit.”

“But also...what are we, exactly?” When Bakugou turned to him, Deku’s eyebrows were knotted at the center, like his answer meant way more to him than it should have, like it was a life or death situation and this...this was the entire world on the line. “Do you know…?”

Bakugou kissed that stupid furrow first, and then his dumb cheek, and his absolutely ridiculous smile that formed on his face. “You’re my partner, you idiot,” he said softly, not quite smiling so much as smirking. “That’s what you’ve always been, and that’s how it’s going to keep being. That’s not fucking changing. Get it?”

Deku grinned, latching himself onto his arm. “Got it.”