Eijiro Kirishima liked sex. Keyword: liked.

It's not as if he's completely averse to it now. No, he enjoys it—it's very evident every time he does it. But, well, the effects of the deed afterward left much to be desired, and now, whenever Bakugo initiates, he can't help but imagine the amount of pain he's going to feel the next day. Bakugo is…rough. Very rough. Kirishima used to like it…the first few times. Really only the first time. But that's probably because that was when he was between Pro Hero jobs and didn't have to get out of bed the next day and do actual work.

"Oh, my God, just tell him!" Mina would say whenever Kirishima would FaceTime her, but he'd just change the subject and promptly hang up.

There's no way in hell he's going to talk about something as embarrassing as a sore butthole or the fact that his hips feel so rickety that he has to call in sick for work. Actually, he's had to call in sick every single time they have sex. The fading hickeys on his neck don't get the chance to fade away before being replaced with a fresh set; usually, that'd be very sexy to the Pro Hero, but when he has to go out as a venerated public figure, being seen by children and old people, it's very much not desired. Mina lent him her concealer, saying "It does the trick" with a wink, but Pro Hero work isn't exactly conducive to keeping makeup looking flawless. Thankfully, Pro Hero work is conducive to explaining away the scratches and "bruises" on his chest and neck.

Bakugo is genuinely concerned whenever Kirishima has to call in sick, but the redhead just pushes him out the door saying that he was fine; he just isn't feeling it that day. But the excuses are running thin. There are only so many times he can call in sick without losing his spot in the top ten of Pro Heroes, and above all, he needs to help people. He can't help but turn on the TV and watch in horror as depressing story after depressing story popped up on the news, all while lying on his side because sitting on his ass hurt too much.

So…he'd started turning down sex. And never initiating it. Well, he'd stopped initiating for a while. But he'd never turn it down. Now, before getting home, he'd use his trip home to think of all the excuses he could use when he climbed into bed with his boyfriend later that night if Bakugo was in the mood. He knows a simple 'no' would satisfy the blond and earn him a forehead kiss before being left alone, but…he still feels guilty. Therefore, the excuses came rolling in.

"Ah, sorry, just ate a big burrito."

"I just took a shit. Ha."

"Look over there! Oh, no…our potted plant broke. Gotta fix that." (Kirishima pushed it off the dresser.)

"I'm really sweaty from work…no, it's not sexy. No—a villain pissed on me, too." (They had not.)

Bakugo, instead of being sexually frustrated, has been panicking. The main worry on his mind hasn't been "Fuck, blue balls again?" Rather, it's been "Is Eijiro not attracted to me anymore?" He hasn't put on any weight. In fact, he's gotten more muscular as an effect of his Pro Hero work. U.A. was challenging, especially with the League of Villains always up their asses, but at least they had their teachers and other Pro Heroes looking after them. Now it's all up to him. He thought this feeling of losing control would stay at work, but clearly, it's followed him back home because he can't get a grip on Kirishima. Any time he thinks he's figured Kirishima's feelings out or gotten him close to talking about his feelings, he slips right out of his hands and locks himself behind a door, both metaphorically and physically. He's already losing control and stamina in his Pro Hero work; the last thing he wants is for that to happen to his relationship.

Bakugo's frustration boils to a point after a particularly hard day when he comes home and sees Eijiro on the couch, and instead of his boyfriend greeting him with a hug and a kiss, he stiffens and looks over his shoulder with a weary smile.

"What's wrong with you?" Bakugo shouts, throwing his hands up in the air as he kicks off his boots. His anger subsides immediately when he sees Kirishima's face fall, and he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "No, that came out wrong. I mean, why have you been acting weird?"

Kirishima frowns, visibly confused. "Weird? What do you mean?" He gets up from the couch and pads over to his boyfriend, his hands nervously laced together in front of him.

Bakugo's scowl deepens, his eyebrows furrowing in the middle of his forehead. He snaps his arm forward, motioning to Kirishima's hands. "I mean, you won't even touch me. Why are you acting so nervous every time I get close to you?" He steps forward, and Kirishima takes a step back. Bakugo's heart falls to his feet, cementing them to the ground. He's paralyzed.

"See?" he adds with the smallest voice he's used in a while.

It'll be painful for Kirishima to explain why he's been avoiding sex. But it's even more painful to watch his boyfriend, who is usually so full of gusto, look like a timid mouse before him, pleading with him to explain himself. Kirishima never thought that communication would be this hard. It's so simple out on the field: "Uravity, on your right!" "The villain is heading west down Third Street!" It's short, informational, and unimportant in the long scheme of things. But relationships are a whole 'nother level.

"I—" he starts, but panic sets in and closes his throat to any speech.

"Spit it out!" Bakugo's hair is standing on end, and he lets out a long breath. "C'mon, Eijiro. You're treating me like a villain here." He hesitates before asking quietly, "Are you not attracted to me anymore?"

Kirishima's chin dimples as he tries to hold back tears. He'd never thought that he had been hurting Bakugo, too. But clearly, he had, to the point of the other thinking he isn't attractive. That is the most ludicrous thing he's ever heard. So ludicrous, in fact, that out of pure spite, his mouth opens to offer the explanation once and for all.

Kirishima groans from frustration. "No, that's not it at all! You're still the most attractive man ever! Like, the first time I saw you, I was like 'wow.' Then when I saw you blow stuff up, I was like 'wow.' Like, you went kablam and kaboosh! It was so cool! What's there not to be attracted to?"

Bakugo scowls. "Then why won't you have sex with me?! Why do you keep putting things off? If you don't want to do it anymore, that's fine. I guess." He begins to stutter out his next sentence before stopping to recollect himself. "I just want to know…if I did anything wrong."

Kirishima's never seen his boyfriend so downtrodden. He's desperate to put a smile back on his boyfriend's face, but the only way to do that would be to have sex with him, and well…

He purses his lips before coming clean. "You didn't do anything wrong, I promise! I'm sorry, Katsuki! It's just…you're…" He looks up from the floor to meet Bakugo's eyes, the blond's ruby eyes darker than usual. Kirishima inhales sharply and balls his hands into fists by his sides, finally yelling, "You're too rough!"

When he has the courage to open his eyes, they reveal a thoroughly confused Bakugo. His head is cocked, and his scowl has morphed into a straight line.

"…What?" Bakugo asks, lifting his hands up to look at them. "Like…my voice? Or how I act?"

"Uh…" He's gone this far. Time to come clean. Kirishima rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and groans before saying, "In…in bed. You're too rough in bed."

It's comical how quiet the two men are and how quickly they meet eyes. They just stand there, staring at each other for what feels like eons before Bakugo takes a step forward, an unreadable expression on his face.

"I'm too rough…in bed," he repeats, and Kirishima feebly nods.

"I'm sorry for letting it drag on for so long; I know that isn't really manly of me. But I didn't…I didn't know how to tell you. It's embarrassing, but I can't do it anymore. My ass hurts so much after, and—and the hickeys and bruises are embarrassing, and—"

Kirishima is silenced by the softest pair of lips upon his own, a mere brushing of lips together. He barely would have noticed had his vision not been clouded by a flurry of spiky blond hair and blushed tan skin. His hands are up in the air, unsure of what to do with them, until they come to rest on Bakugo's shoulders, his fingertips digging gently into the hard muscles underneath them.

"You fucking idiot," Bakugo whispers underneath his breath before diving in for a deeper kiss, making sure to keep it passionate but gentle. He lets his hands roam Kirishima's torso with a feather-like touch before resting them on his hips, giving them a tender squeeze to let the other know that none of his words have any bite. But Kirishima has known that for a long time. Ever since they first met at U.A., while everybody feared Bakugo, Kirishima knew there was something else under the surface. And there was. Pure, unadulterated love.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Bakugo asks, pulling away for a short second before going back to kissing. "You should've told me." Kiss. "Why don't you ever tell me anything?" Kiss. "Now I feel like an asshole." Kiss. "You're the asshole for not telling me, asshole." Kiss.

"If only you'd let me talk!" Kirishima exclaims with a laugh, cupping a hand over Bakugo's mouth to stop any further kisses for a moment. "I know, I am the asshole. But it's humiliating, Katsuki! Admitting that your butthole hurts? Why the hell would I ever tell anybody that? Especially after doing hard anal the day before? Mina laughed in my face—"

"You told Mina and not me?!" Bakugo roared, tearing Kirishima's hand from his mouth. "You are dead. You're fucking dead. You both are dead, you and that purple shitbag."

Kirishima has to hold back a chuckle. "She's pink."

Bakugo's head whips back to his boyfriend, his eyes flaming hot. "Not the point!"

Kirishima laughs again and cups the sides of Bakugo's face, which is now a mild shade of red. He leans forward and plants a butterfly kiss on the tip of his nose, drawing himself back with a soft smile on his lips. "I'm sorry, Katsuki. Seriously. I really should've told you. I just figured that you really like rough sex and didn't want to get in the way of that. We can still do it…just on a weekend or a day off so I can recover."

"No, no." Bakugo wipes Kirishima's hands off his face and laces his own fingers through his boyfriend's, dropping their hands between them. "We're not doing that anymore. Unless you want it. I just…"

Now Bakugo's face is the shade of the hot sauce in the fridge. He suddenly understands why Kirishima was so embarrassed now. Talking about sex is…embarrassing. Their first time, while sentimental, is not something he wants to remember often. In fact, his brain only brings it up when it wants him to cringe, like on a random patrol down the block. Full of misunderstandings and miscommunications, it was a jumble of body parts and weird fluids and Kirishima's head hitting the headboard so hard he got a lump afterward. Well, the misunderstandings and miscommunications clearly didn't stop there because they are in the same situation—just without the jumble of body parts and weird fluids. Not yet, anyway.

Bakugo inhales like Kirishima did, using the short time to build up the courage. "I thought you were the one who liked it rough. You seemed…really turned on that one time in the love hotel. With all the, uh, handcuffs…and stuff. So I just…kept on doing it like that."

Kirishima's eyes are wide as an owl's, and he tries not to bite through his lip with his sharp teeth with how hard he's attempting at not laughing.

"You based…our entire sex life off one time where I seemed particularly turned on?" Kirishima asks, his voice wavering as the laughter tries to butt in. "Is that what the logic was in your head?"

Bakugo yanks his hands back to himself and starts toward the bathroom. "Shut up, you idiot! Forget I ever said anything."

"No!" Kirishima practically throws himself at his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around the other's waist. "No, I think it's adorable. You just wanted to make me happy, right?"

Bakugo stiffens before relenting with a nod.

Kirishima rubs his cheek against Bakugo's back and grins. "You know, I was so excited that one time because of when you weren't rough. When I had the blindfold on and I couldn't see you, and you slowly dragged your fingers over me…" He mimics what he's saying on Bakugo's chest, stroking his pecs with the tips of his fingers. He lifts them up to the skin above the deep V of his costume, feeling the warmth of Bakugo's skin skyrocket.

"That's what made me so excited," Kirishima explains. He begins to step away from Bakugo, but his hands are firmly kept against Bakugo's chest by the other's grip on them.

"Don't move." Bakugo's voice is strong but with a needy undertone. He turns around in Kirishima's arms, his eyes looking down at their feet. "I'm sorry."

Kirishima chuckles. "That's not something I hear every day. This is a cause for celebration."

Before Bakugo can retaliate or stomp away in a fit of rage, Kirishima stands on his toes, kissing the firecracker on the forehead. "There's nothing to apologize for. You're still my favorite manly man."

Bakugo manages a smile despite his previous bitterness and nods. "I'm gonna go shower."

Kirishima nods along with him. "I'll shower after you. Mind throwing a frozen pizza in the oven while I'm in there for dinner?"

Bakugo's smile fades, and he hums absentmindedly as he turns around to go to the bathroom. "Yeah, sure."

Kirishima's smile fades as well at that response. Hadn't everything been resolved? Why was his boyfriend still acting like that?

His worries continue for the better part of the evening, especially when Bakugo steps out of the shower and doesn't say anything in passing before flopping on the bed and going on his phone. Kirishima tries to share a smile with him, or even just a glance, but there is no contact. He frowns to himself and goes to shower, his mind swirling with panic the entire time he's in there. Once he's done, he steps out and wraps a towel around his waist before walking into the bedroom. However, he doesn't walk two steps in before he spots Bakugo sitting at the foot of the bed, smoothing the throw blanket down.

"Babe, what's going—"

"Eijiro, c'mere," the blond says, his voice gruff but sincere. He pats the spot next to him, and Kirishima obeys, nervously fumbling with the towel as he sits down. Bakugo places a hand over his boyfriend's hands to still them and looks up with a gaze of pure love and admiration. His eyes rake over Kirishima's body, the tan skin still dewy from the shower and his stringy hair framing his angular face. He truly is the manliest man, Bakugo thinks before biting back a snicker. That is clear evidence that he's been spending too much time with the redhead: he's even starting to think like him.

Maybe that isn't such a bad thing.

"Eijiro," Bakugo starts but hesitates. He clears his throat before saying, "Y'know, I like rough sex, but I've always been more of a romantic guy. Um, like…" He sheepishly scratches the back of his head, his eyes refusing to meet Kirishima's. "Candles…or rose petals. Or…like, soft music. I don't know. But…I—I like that more." He bites his lip. "Especially with you."

Kirishima's eyes are wide as saucers. He knew that Bakugo didn't always act like the rude stereotype people make him out to be, but never in a million years did he think that he would purposefully like lovey-dovey sex. He didn't like fucking—he liked making love. Just the thought gives Kirishima butterflies, of which are now running rampant in his stomach. He places a hand over it to stop the feeling from going down too far, but the look in Bakugo's eyes makes it seem as if that isn't so bad.

"I…I want to try it," Bakugo finishes, twiddling his thumbs anxiously for his boyfriend's response.

However, he doesn't even need to think about it. He replies, "Then let's try it."

Now Bakugo's eyes are wide, his head turning slowly to meet Kirishima's determined gaze. He wants to laugh at how adorably resolute his boyfriend looks. Instead, he whispers, "Eijiro," but he doesn't finish his sentence, letting it trail off as he leans forward and touches his top lip with Kirishima's. Both their eyes are lowered, their breaths quickening and their heart rates jumping.

Kirishima closes the gap and nearly falls into their routine foreplay of smashing lips and roughly tearing their clothes off each other like hungry animals. It's strange doing it so slowly; he'd never felt Bakugo so vividly before. He can taste the strawberry lollipop some kid probably gave him on the street. He can feel every wrinkle, every cut on his bottom lip from how he'd anxiously bite it. The kiss has no teeth, no sharpness at all. Just the soft smacking of their lips and their warm breaths against each other's chins.

It feels juvenile, all of it. As if they're going to have sex for the first time and getting to know each other's bodies. Bakugo lifts his hand and hesitates before gingerly placing it on Kirishima's chest.

Cute, Kirishima thinks of Bakugo's nervousness.

"You can touch me, Katsuki," he whispers, guiding Bakugo's hand to press firmly into his chest. He's certain Bakugo can feel his heartbeat going at the speed of a hummingbird's, but he's not embarrassed. It's perfect: it shows how much he's enjoying this without him having to voice it.

"Okay," Bakugo replies and returns to kissing, cupping Kirishima's pec in his palm and giving it a tender squeeze.

"Mm," Kirishima breathes, breaking the kiss.

Bakugo's face was already red, but now it's horridly scarlet at the mere sound of the soft groan. He's also nervous; he knows that Kirishima will tell him—now that they've worked everything out communication-wise—if he's being too rough, but the panic still lingers.

"Good?" he asks.

Kirishima can tell Bakugo's being overly cautious, and all he does is direct his boyfriend's hand to go lower down his torso, letting out another shaky breath. "Y-yes," he replies, his eyelids heavily lidded. "Good."

Bakugo nods, and they return to kissing, the one thing both know how to do softly by now. It's everything else they need to learn how to do. One step at a time. The only "rough thing" they do is when Kirishima playfully nips at Bakugo's bottom lip with his sharp teeth, eliciting an irresistible groan out of the other.

Bakugo laces his fingers with Kirishima's and gently pushes him down onto the mattress, never breaking their lip-lock as he turns to settle himself between his legs. While one hand is secured in his boyfriend's, he uses the other to roam Kirishima's body, which he has missed for far too long. He caresses his soft stomach, feeling the strong muscles underneath the thick skin. He runs his fingers down his black happy trail (he burst out laughing the first time he saw it, saying "So the carpet doesn't match the drapes?" earning a swift kick to the head). His fingers' journey is stopped by the towel, and Bakugo separates from Kirishima to look down at him for approval.

"Yes, Katsuki," Kirishima mumbles, his breaths already heavy with anticipation. "Touch me."

Bakugo smiles and slips his fingers underneath the towel, his hand bumping into Kirishima's cock only a few centimeters down.

"You're that excited for me?" Bakugo asks, gripping Kirishima and drawing out a shrill gasp from him. "I'm flattered."

Kirishima's about to say something before he's cut off by his own moan once Bakugo begins pumping his hand, his head falling to the side and his free hand coming up to cover his mouth. He bites his knuckles as Bakugo's lips fall to his jaw, then to his chin, then to his neck, leaving his skin prickling and pink wherever those lips fall.

The knuckles provide the bare minimum of sound dampening, his voice still echoing off the sides of their bedroom as Bakugo's stroking gets faster and his kisses grow more feverish. He resorts to draping his forearm over his eyes, squeezing his eyelids shut underneath the darkness his arm provides. If he's going to be heard no matter what he does, then he'll hide whatever embarrassing expressions he's making. Usually, the foreplay and sex go by so quickly, there's no time to even look at each other. But he can feel Bakugo's eyes on him, on his body, and the thought makes him squirm.

"Before you say anything, no hickeys, got it," Bakugo says after pulling away from kissing. He takes a moment now that he's hovering over Kirishima to admire his body as it is. Usually, they went too fast to savor each other's bodies. For instance, he didn't know his boyfriend had a freckle in the middle of his sternum. Or that his nipples are slightly mismatched—but are gorgeous all the same. Or how his stomach expands then contracts erratically to compensate for his hurried breaths.

"You're beautiful," Bakugo whispers, diving in to kiss Kirishima's jaw.

Kirishima chuckles before letting out another soft moan. "I'm a man, you're supposed to call me handsome."

"You're a dumbass," Bakugo replies, tweaking Kirishima's nipple playfully and earning a surprised yelp and displeased grumble. "A beautiful dumbass."

"I'm going to harden and crack you across the face."

"But you're already hard."

"Hey-!" Before Kirishima act out his promise, Bakugo tightens his grip on him and strokes him even faster, pressing his thumb into the head and smearing the precum around it. "A-ah!"

Kirishima shivers, but Bakugo isn't done with his compliments, even though his boyfriend thinks he doesn't deserve them.

"Beautiful nose," Bakugo says, kissing the tip of Kirishima's nose that's peeking out from underneath his forearm.

"Beautiful cheek." Kiss.

"Beautiful jaw." Kiss.

"Beautiful neck." Kiss.

"Beautiful chest." Kiss.

"Beautiful stomach." Kiss.

Bakugo sits back on his haunches as he pulls the towel away completely, revealing the rest of Kirishima's body. Another shiver racks Kirishima's body at all the compliments, his legs self-consciously shutting closed at all the love. He isn't used to being looked at. To being revered. Of course, Bakugo compliments him, but it's usually laced with an insult or said begrudgingly. Not like this. Not so easily. Not so…tenderly. It's…nice. The butterflies are at full speed now, and he's feeling dizzy as he watches Bakugo continue to press kisses into his skin. Probably because all the blood in his body is draining into his dick. With each compliment, his head gets fuzzier.

"Cute dick," Bakugo says, which brings Kirishima's mind back to fully functioning.

He tosses his arm off his face and sits up to look at his boyfriend staring up deviously at him from between his legs, his cock right in front of his face. "What? Not beautiful? Cute?" he exclaims, his voice breaking.

"Yeah, now shut up," Bakugo says, pushing Kirishima back onto the bed and giving the head a kiss before the redhead can retaliate.

"T-that's playing—ah! D-dirty…" Kirishima says before dissolving back into his moans.

Bakugo snickers and gives his cock another lick before kissing the tops of Kirishima's thighs, delighting in seeing them flinch at the touch. "Beautiful thighs."

He lifts Kirishima's leg to his shoulder, all the while still pumping him vigorously.

"Beautiful calves." Kiss.

He kisses the top of Kirishima's foot. "Beautiful feet."

"You're into feet now?" Kirishima asks with a half-laugh, half-gasp.

Bakugo doesn't answer. He knows that what he's about to do will be funnier than anything he could say. He licks a trail from Kirishima's ankle, putting down his leg in the process, to his thigh, watching with satisfaction as his boyfriend's back arches off the bed. Without giving Kirishima time to recover, he engulfs his cock in his mouth, nuzzling his nose into the black happy trail before coming up for air.

"T-too fast!" Kirishima cries out, his forearm pressing down on his face while his other arm was outstretched, his hand fisting Bakugo's spiked blond locks. "I'm gonna come…"

"From just that?" Bakugo teases. When he feels Kirishima's legs tense underneath him and try to close, he forces them back open, leaning forward to give the tip another kiss. "C'mon, Eijiro, I thought I knew you better."

But what Bakugo is really thinking is: If this is what it takes for him to come so easily, no wonder it took him so long when we were doing it rough before.

He makes his way back to Kirishima's cock and lays his tongue flat against the base before licking up the shaft, giving special attention to the head before doing the whole routine again. He takes it into his mouth again and, using the spit pooling at the base, wets his fingers and circles Kirishima's entrance.

Wait, he thinks, stopping himself. That's too rough.

He lifts himself from his mewling boyfriend, reaching over to the nightstand and retrieving a condom and the lube bottle rarely used since they get to the deed so quickly, there's barely any time to stretch.

Fuck. I'm an idiot. No wonder Eijiro was complaining about the pain. It must've hurt like a bitch.

He coats his fingers in a generous layer of lube and lowers himself back onto Kirishima, rounding his entrance tantalizingly.

"Katsukiii!" Kirishima whines, his hand back in Bakugo's hair. "Please!"

"Patience, babe," Bakugo replies nonchalantly. "Didn't you say you wanted it slow?"

"Not this slow!" the other exclaims from underneath his forearm. His legs spread apart to make room for his boyfriend, his body language much more communicative than his words.

Bakugo is about to tease Kirishima some more before he gives in and works in a finger, spreading Kirishima's walls and pumping it back and forth. He's just as needy and impatient; sure, he loves some romantic lovemaking, but damn, did he want the main course.

"Does that feel good?" he asks, looking up at his boyfriend while he busies his mouth with his cock.

Kirishima feebly nods. "Getting t-there."

"Just have to find the right spot," Bakugo whispers to himself, using Kirishima's moans and sighs as a guide to where his prostate is. He has a vague idea; however, yet again, they went too fast for him to properly know where it is.

He inserts another finger, scissoring Kirishima open while trying to find his spot at the same time. All the while giving him a blowjob. Why hadn't he done this earlier? The delicious moans and cute exclamations and sultry expressions Kirishima's releasing are addicting, and Bakugo can't picture their future sex life without any of it. Even though they'll probably be having sex less often with how long the process is going to take now, it's completely worth it.

"Yes!" Kirishima cries out, his back arching again and his head flying backward into the pillow. His legs begin to tremble the more Bakugo massages the bump raised from the velvety walls around it. "Katsuki—hnngh! Feels…so g-good…"

Bakugo puts all his energy into working Kirishima open so that he feels no pain the next day while paying special attention to that special bump, sending Kirishima into a pleasure-fueled frenzy.

Kirishima's tripping over his own words, his tongue getting caught in "C-coming! I'm—"

"Not so fast," Bakugo says after popping off his cock, slowing down his hand and slowly slipping it out. Kirishima lets out a high-pitched whine at the loss inside him, and Bakugo chuckles as he pushes himself back up to his boyfriend's face and kisses his cheek. "Just a little more, baby. You can take it."

Kirishima's panting like a dog in heat at this point. The only reason he isn't completely humiliated is because his forearm is his saving grace, but even that is taken away by Bakugo. He grips Kirishima's wrist and uncovers his face once and for all, pushing his wrist into the mattress.

"I want to see your face," he whispers in the other's ear, giving the lobe a feathery kiss. Kirishima grumbles something under his breath but complies with his boyfriend's request since, after all, how is he supposed to see Bakugo's face and all his expressions if his eyes are closed?

Bakugo uses his free hand to lift the condom up to his mouth. He uses his teeth to tear the packaging, spitting out the corner and retrieving the condom from inside. He meets Kirishima's eyes for the first time the entire night, which are dark with lust and wild from unadulterated pleasure. "Mind putting it on me?"

Kirishima's Adam's apple bobs as he swallows thickly, but he eventually nods, pushing himself up by the elbows and taking the condom from his boyfriend's fingers. He reaches forward, pinches the tip, and slides it on with ease, giving Bakugo's cock a gentle squeeze and quick stroke to tease him back for everything he's done.

"Fuck," Bakugo mutters with a heavy exhale. He smirks and looks up at Kirishima, who's now laying back down with his hands fisting the pillow underneath his head and his pink legs spread wide open in invitation. "You can be a little devil, can't you?"

Kirishima lifts a hand to Bakugo's face, drawing him closer until their lips are touching once again. Bakugo's blond eyelashes tickle his cheeks, and he smiles. "Make love to me, Katsuki."

Bakugo's power trip is gone, replaced with highlighter bright red cheeks. That's it. He's going to only make love to Kirishima from now on, especially if it means this.

He nods; it's the only thing he can do. He glides his hands into Kirishima's, prying them from the pillow and pressing them into the mattress next to his shoulders. Their hands are so warm together, slick with sweat, their knuckles white from how tightly they're clutching each other. Their hands are their anchors. Bakugo nor Kirishima can imagine separating them now.

"I love you," Kirishima whispers, placing a butterfly kiss on the tip of his boyfriend's nose. "So much."

Bakugo smiles and presses his sweaty forehead's into Kirishima's. "I know."

With that, he slowly slides inside, letting out a low groan at the sudden warmth and tightness surrounding him. Kirishima, on the other hand, is speechless. He's confused; either it's the combination of the lube and the stretching or he's just gotten looser from all the rough sex, but…it doesn't hurt. He just feels full, yet to feel pleasure, but if he shifts his hips a specific way, he's certain he'll feel it in no time. But it's the lack of pain that he's surprised about. He couldn't be happier.

"You okay?" Bakugo asks from the crook of Kirishima's neck, where he buried his face, his voice muffled by the soft skin underneath.

"Move," Kirishima demands, moving his hips down and whirling them around. He's left speechless again as Bakugo's cock brushes against his prostate, his eyes wide and his nails digging into Bakugo's knuckles. "Move, please." He doesn't want to rush it in case of injury, but damn, he's on cloud nine.

Don't need to ask me twice, Bakugo thinks. His hips move on their own, rocking forward slowly and drawing groans from both men. He starts up a languid rhythm, listening to the noises spilling out of his boyfriend's cherry-red mouth both because it's music to his ears and for any signs of distress. But there is none. Just begs and whines and mewls.

"Faster," Kirishima pleads, his thighs clinging to Bakugo's sides. Bakugo can feel them shaking, as well as the rest of Kirishima's body. And he gladly complies, ramping up the speed, but it's nothing compared to their fuckfests. Even though it's slow compared to their other times, Kirishima is treating it as if he's going a hundred kilometers an hour in terms of going absolutely crazy. His back is arching so much, his stomach meets Bakugo's, their chests touching every time Bakugo pushes inside. His neck might break with how far his head is thrown back, allowing his Adam's apple to protrude from his neck and dance along to every single moan and whimper that comes out like samba music.

"Yes, Katsuki—fee…ls s-so—nngh!" He dissolves into blabbers and incoherency, working his hands free from Bakugo's to cling onto his back for dear life, leaving ugly red scratches along the way. "I want…I want—ugh!"

"Use your words, baby," Bakugo murmurs, and Kirishima's shoulders hike up to his ears at the warm breath on one of them.

"Mm… deeper, harder—" That's all that comes out of Kirishima before he's overtaken by moans again.

Bakugo works out his pace. Usually, he just goes fast. But Kirishima isn't asking for faster anymore, he's asking for deeper. Harder. Same speed, but just—

SMACK!

"GUH!" A guttural cry escapes Kirishima's throat, and Bakugo groans along with the hard thrust. It echoed off the walls, the bed creaking to show its displeasure with the move.

"Yes! Like that! Just like that!" The scratches are numerous and ugly now, covering the majority of Bakugo's back.

"Good boy," Bakugo mumbles, pressing a kiss onto Kirishima's forehead adorned by beads of sweat. "You did good. F-fuck." Now Bakugo's getting incoherent, unable to form a singular thought as he continues the punishing thrusts and slow pace. "You f-feel so good, baby, so good…"

"Close…I-I'm close," Kirishima warns, crossing his ankles behind Bakugo's back to push him even closer. He drops his hands from Bakugo's back and cradles his face with them, bringing his boyfriend's face back to being nose-to-nose with him. "God, I love you. Make love to me, Katsuki. Love me, love me, love me—"

"For the rest of my life," Bakugo murmurs back against Kirishima's lips. "For the rest of my goddamn life, I'll love you."

That's all that Kirishima needs. Yes, the pleasure he's receiving from his prostate being abused by Bakugo's cock is more than enough to push him over the edge. But hearing his boyfriend, the man he wants to spend the rest of his life with, confirm that he in fact feels the same way and is using passionate sex to communicate that to him…it's more than enough.

"Katsuki, I'm gonna come—I'm—!"

With one last snap of Bakugo's hips, Kirishima's done. White blurs his vision, his entire body racked with pleasure, tears, and electric pulses, both across his skin and deep in his muscles. His hair stands on end, goosebumps decorate his skin, his body is pink and glistening with a sheen of sweat, and his come is the last garnish on the eye candy that is Kirishima's orgasm.

Bakugo would've come anyway from how tight Kirishima's clamping down on him, but just the look of ecstasy on his love's face pushes him over the brim. He buries himself deep inside Kirishima and grabs one of Kirishima's hands on his face for support, burying it in the mattress. He rides through the demanding orgasm that commands his entire body, his hips continuing to snap forward because of the aftershocks, causing even more oversensitivity to torment his body. He feels the ends of his hair singe from how hot he's burning, and he's afraid that the intense orgasm will lead to him burning down the apartment.

"Fuck!" he growls, using Kirishima's lips to silence himself.

"Katsuki, Katsuki…" Kirishima pants, trying to separate from Bakugo's kisses. "I love you…"

The two men stay there for a few more moments catching their breath, Bakugo long since collapsed on top of his redhead. Their chests rise to meet each other, their skin sticking together like glue. Their hands are still joined together, making a nice imprint on the mattress. Everything about them is joined together.

Somehow, Bakugo finds the courage to push himself off Kirishima and pull out. Both men hiss with displeasure, the loss of warmth on Bakugo's end and the loss of fullness on Kirishima's end. He carefully rolls the condom off him and ties it at the end, tossing it in the trash and flopping onto his back. Kirishima immediately saddles up next to Bakugo, tossing a leg over Bakugo's hips and laying on his chest.

"Thank you," Kirishima mumbles, giving the skin underneath him a kiss.

"For what?" Bakugo asks then laughs. "For giving you the best night of your goddamned life?"

Kirishima laughs and hardens his fist to punch Bakugo playfully on the chest—delicately enough to not scar, but hard enough to hurt. And it does: it elicits a great yelp of pain from his boyfriend.

"No. I mean, yeah, but—I mean, there will be other nights—ugh, that's not what I'm trying to say." He props himself up on his elbow to look Bakugo directly in the eye, unhardening his fist to slide it up to cup his boyfriend's cheek. "Thank you for understanding. For not making fun of me. I…" He sighs. "I regret not talking to you. I'll always regret that. But I just wanted to make you happy and being rough seemed to make you happy. So, I went along with it."

"Eijiro—"

"Let me finish," Kirishima stresses. "You didn't force me. I liked those times. But this…this is different. I'll tell you what I'm in the mood for. I will let you know."

Bakugo's eyelids are heavy with fatigue, but he nods and runs a hand through Kirishima's damp hair, shaking the hair into his boyfriend's eyes with an amused smile. "Okay, babe. Just don't pull that shit again."

"I won't, I promise," Kirishima says. "Manly men don't break their promises." He winks before relaxing back into his boyfriend's side. "I love you."

Bakugo snorts and drapes a lazy arm over Kirishima's waist. "I love you, too. Idiot."

They're both drifting off to sleep when Kirishima whispers, "Who would've known you're just a big ol' softie for lovey-dovey sex in the end."

Bakugo stares at the grinning redhead through the darkness.

"Ow! Okay, I get it, sorry! Stop burning me!"

…

When Kirishima awakes, Bakugo's already left for the early shift he picked up from Ingenium since he's sick. When Ingenium's sick, that means something is really wrong with him since that nerd always clocks in, even if he has to wear a face mask because he's hacking up his lungs from the flu.

He stretches his arms over his head, delaying the inevitable: the sharp pain in the ass from sitting up. He's woken up with this pain one too many times, so he turns to slip off the bed instead of sitting up. However, out of habit, he sits on the edge of the bed to stand up, and he almost misses it before he stands up. His ass is fine. He has no pain. He feels nothing. It's almost as if they didn't have sex last night.

Did they? Yesterday feels like a fever dream, but that doesn't make the fact that he feels no pain after sex any less real. He stands up, almost as if testing the waters, and walks around. No pain. He slips on some boxers, which includes lifting his legs, which also elicits no pain. He sits down on their ottoman. No pain. He gets in the shower to clean himself up, pressing his fingers inside himself. No pain, other than the usual sting from going in dry. No throbbing, no swelling, no puffiness. Nothing.

No more pain.

Kirishima has successfully had sex without needing to call in sick afterward. And he's ready to celebrate.

He cooks himself a giant breakfast fit for a king and goes out on patrol with a grin so big, it startles a few children. He knows his coworkers know that he got laid, but they don't know why specifically he's so happy about getting laid. He can actually walk. And use his Quirk without a flare-up of pain in his lower back. And he doesn't need to worry about bruises or hickeys to cover up. Mina sees his joyful demeanor and tries to "accidentally" wipe away the concealer on his neck as a joke, only to reveal that there's nothing to cover up.

"Did you even have sex?" she asks, and Kirishima gleefully nods.

"Yep."

Mina's eyes snap open. "What? How are you standing? Why didn't you call in sick?"

Kirishima smirks and shrugs. "No pain." He winks at his pink friend and throws her two finger guns. "I worked it all out."

Bakugo, on the other hand, is suffering from taunts from everybody in his department. He has a relatively conservative costume compared to Kirishima's, but his shoulders are still exposed for all the world to see as a spectacle. Kirishima made sure of that. They're tattooed with angry red scratch marks, and anybody can see that they lead to a maze of many more rows underneath his shirt. Bakugo can't even think of an excuse. Yes, a villain is an obvious excuse, but with how airy and normal he's acting at the agency, anybody can infer what happened. He's blowing up a lot less and isn't using his Quirk on innocent bystanders to intimidate them.

"You should get laid more often," one of the Pro Heroes in his agency mutters under his breath, and in return gets his eyebrows singed off.

But it's true, and Bakugo can't deny it. When he gets home, he finds Kirishima on the bed sitting back on his heels, his eyelids heavy and his sharp teeth tugging on his bottom lip in a smirk. He takes full advantage of the fact that his good behavior at work earned him a day off and that Kirishima got a day off from so efficiently handling villains by making love to his boyfriend all night. When Kirishima wakes up the next day to reveal, yet again, that he has no pain, he can't help himself to a morning lovemaking session as well. And the cycle continues.

Eijiro Kirishima likes sex. Keyword: likes.