Bakugou began spending more time with Iida. He knew he meant far more to him than just food, and that meant he could come over anytime he wanted, for any purpose - even just to hang out and work on his homework. Roughly every six or seven days, Iida would drink Bakugou's blood - he did not do it more often than that, although Bakugou got the sense he wished to. As the week progressed Bakugou could watch Iida's strength shrinking; he would sleep more and more, growing visibly weaker each day. Bakugou wished there was more he could do, although he knew logically it would do neither of them any good if Iida took too much blood.
Then, when Iida's strength really was on its last legs, he would ask to drink. Bakugou wondered just how close he was on these days to dying; was a full meal once a week enough? But as the cycle repeated, it seemed to be. Their positions would switch abruptly, with Bakugou being slow and tired and Iida the one taking care of them both. Bakugou would almost always stay the night, or, if he could not, Iida would walk him home, his arm slung protectively around Bakugou's shoulders.
And, without exception, Bakugou always got turned on out of his fucking mind every time Iida drank from him. Maybe it was something in those teeth, some strange venom Iida excreted, because Bakugou was pretty sure he didn't have a pain fetish or a blood drinking fetish (notuntil now, at least). Every time, Iida would jerk him off, and Bakugou would come pitifully fast before lying, boneless and brainless, on the bed - drained in every possible way.
They'd had sex, and they'd done the blood drinking thing, but never together. And Bakugou got it, he really did; Iida wanted to make sure Bakugou wanted the sex, because Bakugou was never exactly in his right mind after Iida drank from him. Okay, whatever. The sex, without exception, came a day or more afterwards.
It was the fifth week of this, and Bakugou wanted to try and change that.
He came over at sunset. Iida greeted him - dark-eyed and a little gaunt; it had been a full week this time, and he knew Iida smelled his blood, probably wanted to jump him as soon as he walked through the door. But this time Bakugou sat down in Iida's living room.
Iida never sucked his blood here; he knew instantly something was different. "Katsuki…?"
"I wanna talk to you about something."
Iida's eyes grew wide, and Bakugou was pretty sure he was holding his breath. Shit, he thought - of course Iida would assume the worst when Bakugou was vague like that. "It's not bad," he said quickly. "I just want to ask you a favor."
"Oh." Iida visibly relaxed. "Yes, anything."
"Look, I know the first time I asked, you said you didn't want to fuck me after drinking my blood. And, like, that was probably a good thing, because," okay, he didn't need to get into it now. He shook his head. "Anyways, that was then, and you've fucked me lots of times since."
"You want to have sex immediately after I drink from you?"
Bakugou nodded. He'd even tried to imagine it while Iida was drinking his blood, but could not imagine the logistics of it. A shame, really - maybe sometime he could jack off during, or Iida could jack him off, or something - but that was a thought for another day.
"Yeah," Bakugou said. "Yeah, I want that."
Iida looked at him for a long moment. "I suppose, since you are consenting in advance…"
"Right, exactly," Bakugou said, nodding. "If I tell you I want it now, you'll know I mean it."
"I can't see any problems with that," Iida said. Bakugou might have been imagining it, but he thought Iida's gaze had grown somehow hungrier. "I - I think it should be fine. And if you change your mind, of course, you'll tell me immediately?"
"Right, yeah," Bakugou said, antsy with excitement. He rose to his feet. "Let's get you fed."
He stripped naked, and Iida did the same - their routine ever since the third week, when Iida's shirt had gotten bloodstained. On the bedside table, Iida set lube and next to the bandages and ointment. Bakugou lay down; he knew the drill.
He didn't enjoy watching as Iida made the first bite. After that it was alright, but that first motion, the pain coupled with the tearing of his skin, awakened some deep lizard-brain fight-or-flight response in him; he could beat it back, but it made him a little queasy, even though logically he knew it was just Iida, not a predator attacking him.
This time, as most times, Bakugou closed his eyes, meaning the initial shock took him by surprise. He never got used to it - for one very long second, he always felt the pain of the wound, until the whatever-it-was kicked in and took it away. This time, not quite prepared, Bakugou let out a grunt, which he muffled a little belatedly against the back of one hand.
It didn't take long for the Feeling to come back. Bakugou felt it deserved a capital letter with how potent it was, how completely it dominated his consciousness. There was nothing but his body and Iida's mouth against him, Iida's teeth in him, Iida's hands tight on his leg. That was the Feeling: intensity and sensation, the blood in his veins, his body penetrated. Bakugou could not name it; it was in a category of its own, something probably no one who had not experienced this could fully understand.
Maybe Iida drank less than normal, or maybe Bakugou had simply lost track of time, but it felt as if no time at all had passed before Iida lifted his head up, finished. Bakugou opened his eyes blearily, watching as Iida took a long drink of water, dried his mouth, then began to clean and bandage Bakugou's wound with quick, confident motions.
"I still want it," Bakugou said, as soon as Iida had finished the process. His bleary voice did not help him, he knew; he sounded half asleep. But he wasn't asleep, just tired, and he pushed himself up onto his elbows, hoping Iida wouldn't back out on him now.
But Iida just said, "Good," and looked down at him through narrowed eyes. He still looked hungry, Bakugou thought.
"Flip over onto your stomach," Iida said. He smirked. "Unless you want to ride me?"
"Uhh. No." Bakugou flipped himself over.
"That was a joke, by the way." Iida uncapped the lubricant. "I'm quite certain you don't have the energy for that particular position right now."
"Shut up," Bakugou said, burying his face in the pillow. He felt Iida's hands on his ass, grip gentle but firm. The worst thing about sex with Iida, Bakugou thought, was that there was no concept of warming the lube in his hands before applying it. It was always going to be cold, because Iida's fingers were cold, and his mouth was cold and his dick was cold - there was no escaping the cold. Bakugou was getting used to it, but that didn't make it pleasant.
But this time, at least, it was less unpleasant. The first finger slipped in easily; Bakugou's muscles were already so relaxed that it took absolutely no conscious effort on his part. There was no pain, none at all, even when Iida put two fingers in, then three, working Bakugou open in the steady, methodical way Iida did everything. Bakugou lay there and took it, his body humming with sensation. It was already almost too good.
"I think you're ready," Iida said. His actions may have been steady, but there was a wild tone to his voice, and it sent shivers through Bakugou's body. He longed to turn around and see Iida's face, but didn't have the energy even for that.
"Yeah," Bakugou said, unsure whether Iida was waiting for a response. "Yeah, I think so."
To his surprise, Iida took hold of him and flipped him onto his back. The change in Iida after he drank was so shocking, so absolute; Bakugou felt a thrill go through him as he was manhandled, Iida lifting his legs and hips like he weighed nothing. Iida normally asked him before changing positions, but Bakugou secretly liked it when he didn't - it turned him on when Iida tossed him around or climbed on top of him, got pushy and handsy and bossy.
And this way, he could look up at Iida, see the fire in his eyes. With no preamble, Iida entered him in one fast thrust - Bakugou was loose and relaxed enough that Iida's cock slid inside with virtually no resistance. "You're so warm," Iida said, looking down at him, his breaths heavy and shallow. "Katsuki, you're always warm, but now - you're almost feverish." He swallowed. "It feels so good. "
Bakugou could not say the temperature of Iida's cock felt quite so good, but it didn't take long for it to warm and match Bakugou's own body heat, and then he forgot it had been cold in the first place. Iida was absolutely not holding back; he was thrusting probably at full strength, and quickly, desperately, staring down into Bakugou's face the whole time. The Feeling was still there - Bakugou's erection had never gone away, had been straining so long he felt almost like he might burst from it. That coupled with Iida's fast rhythm became much for him; Bakugou reached a hand towards his own dick and jerked himself off, coming after only a few strokes, his head thrown back and his free hand draped across his face.
But Iida was not done yet. Bakugou's body felt almost liquid. He had no energy and could do nothing more but lie there, everything too intense but somehow, even after all that,still pleasurable. He was sensitive, over-stimulated; he wanted to draw away, but also wanted to come again - he couldn't, of course, but somehow he felt as if he might, like the combination of the sex and the Feeling and the lethargy in his bones might let him spend himself again and again, like this might never end.
He entered a trance, similar to how he felt when Iida was drinking from him: like time stretched on and on, like there was nothing in the world but his body, weak and sensitive and radiating pleasure. But Iida couldn't last forever, even if his strength seemed to be endless. He warned Bakugou and dug his nails into his thighs, hard enough that it would probably leave a mark; Bakugou watched his flushed, overwhelmed face with deep fondness.
After Iida pulled out, he lay down on the bed next to Bakugou and reached a hand over to stroke his face. Now Iida's cold skin felt incredible, and Bakugou found himself practically nuzzling into the touch.
"How are you doing?" Iida asked, once he'd caught his breath.
"Mm," Bakugou said, "fine. Good." He yawned deeply. "Like I could sleep for ten years."
"You can!" Iida said. Then he laughed, as if he'd only just realized what Bakugou had said. "Not for ten years. But you should sleep!"
"It's…" Bakugou checked his phone. It was barely after eight. "It's too early, I shouldn't sleep."
"I don't mind," Iida said. He smiled warmly down at Bakugou. "I'll be here when you wake up."
"Of course you will be," Bakugou said, rolling his eyes, "it's your apartment."
"I love you, Katsuki," Iida said, and leaned down to plant a kiss on Bakugou's temple - cool and soft, almost like rain. "Get some sleep."
There was always an unspoken Thank you whenever Iida drank his blood, but now Bakugou felt it went both ways - they'd both gotten what they'd wanted. And damn, had it felt good.
"Yeah, okay," Bakugou said, and leaned up to return the kiss. "I love you too."
It was the first time he'd said it aloud, and in the soft lamplight Bakugou watched Iida's face soften in joy. Iida said nothing more, just stroked Bakugou along his hairline, smoothing his hair back away from his forehead.
"Stop it," Bakugou said, after a minute or so had passed. "Gotta use the bathroom. You'll put me to sleep."
"Come back soon," Iida called after him. "The bed is cold without you."