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“Die! Die! Die!”
That sounded an awful like Shitty Hair, coming from inside his room, where he left him and Deku to study while he perused the dorm kitchen for snacks before returning. Knowing how hard he rides them during their combined study sessions, he figured as soon as he left they’d take a break, but making fun of him? Fuck that.
Bakugou kicks the door to his dorm room open so it slams against the wall, shocking his two dumbass boyfriends inside. Deku yelps like a puppy whose paw was stepped on and Kirishima freezes, eyes going wide.
“Whatcha talking about?” He asks, and allows his narrowed eyes to scrape over the pair, drenching the look with as much suspicion and irritation as he can muster.
The problem is, though, that ever since the three of them have started this quasi… poly… dating thing, Kirishima and Deku’s healthy fear of him has plummeted. He doesn’t want his boyfriends to be outright terrified or uncomfortable around him, but enough respect not to make fun of him behind his back isn’t too much to ask, now fucking is it?
Deku clears his throat softly, his curly mass of hair wiggling all stupidly cute as he glances between him and Kirishima. “Ah, Kacchan, we were just-”
“Talkin’ shit - I got ears, dumbass.” He plops down on the bed next to Kiri, stretching out on his side and propping his head in his hand, pointedly flipping through his textbook to find the spot theirs were at and avoiding looking at them.
“We weren’t talking bad about you.” Kirishima says. “Honest.”
“Right.” Bakugou snaps, and dammit he hates how it comes out more pouty than anything else.
“We were just comparing our impressions! Midoriya does this really awesome one of All Might so I was showing him my impression of you!”
Bakugou huffs, rolling his eyes. “Bet they both suck.”
“Kirishima-kun’s impression of you is a bit too on-the-nose,” Deku says thoughtfully, stroking his chin. “I think mine gets more to the heart of Kacchan.”
“What?!” Kirishima says incredulously at the same time Bakugou deadpans, “What.”
“Mine is not ‘on-the-nose’, whatever that’s supposed to mean.” Kirishima sits up straighter then, his passion apparently roused. “And it’s not just about having the identical voice and facial expressions, it’s the attitude and the- and the spirit!” He clenches a fist in front of him.
Deku scoffs. Scoffs at Kirishima, his brows pinched in irritation. “Excuse you, but I have known Kacchan since I can remember, I can capture his spirit perfectly.”
Bakugou doesn’t think he’s ever seen or heard Deku so offended at Kirishima. The nerd looks ready to throw punches, all that’s missing are the watery eyes.
Kirishima holds up his hands. “I’m just saying when you’re doin’ me up the butt, I wouldn’t get the two of you confused.”
“Well- that’s-” Deku flails. “There’s height and girth difference and- and-”
“You’re too gentle to be Bakugou.”
Deku stares, open-mouthed. Bakugou can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“Wait wait wait. Hold up.” Bakugou sits up. “What are you two dipshits talking about?”
Deku ignores him, pointing an accusatory finger at Kirishima. “Well you wouldn’t fool anyone either! Especially not me.”
Kirishima reels back, shock written all over his face. “You said you liked my impression! You used to come so hard - was it all a lie, Midoriya?”
“Hold the FUCK up.” Bakugou screeches, and sets off a couple explosions just for good measure. Finally, the two of them look at him. “What are you fucking going on about?”
“Uhh…” They both glance down, scratching at the back of their necks nervously, before meeting each other’s eyes. After a second of tense silence, they explode in a fit of laughter, Deku hiding his face in his hands and Kirishima clutching at his stomach, his cheeks burning red.
The longer they laugh, the more incensed Bakugou becomes, and he feels his blood simmering under the surface as their giggles die down. Kirishima gasps for air, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.
“It’s just - OK, so-” He starts, but Deku places a hand on his arm.
“You’re going to tell him??” He whispers, though Bakugou can still hear him.
Kirishima places a gentle hand over Deku’s, squeezing the knuckles. “He’s gonna find out eventually. I thought we agreed, no secrets?”
“Right.” Deku nods, stealing a nervous glance at Bakugou. Bakugou glares at him before he looks back at Kirishima. “Right, OK.”
“Right.” Kirishima smiles, then turns to Bakugou. “So when it was just Midoriya and I dating, we sometimes… um…” His eyes flicker around the room, trying to find the words. “Well, you know that we liked you back then?”
“Obviously.” Bakugou snaps, and makes a gesture for Kirishima to get the fuck on with it.
“So sometimes when we uh.. When we made sweet love-”
(“Oh, no,” Deku whispers softly, wiping a hand over his face.)
“-we would take turns pretending to be you.”
Bakugou doesn’t say anything. Kirishima swallows, the sound loud in the awkward silence that drapes over the room like a blanket.
“In bed.” He adds. “As in, I would pound his ass and pretend to be you, and he would fuck my mouth and-”
“I GET IT.” Bakugou shouts over him, his face searing hot with embarrassment. Ugh, why the fuck is he in love with this idiot?
The silence returns, the strain between the three palpable. Clearly, they’re expecting Bakugou to scream or call them names, a habit to which he’d normally acquiesce, but more than anything he’s simply… intrigued.
When his boyfriends’ big round puppy eyes fill his heart with warmth and their soothing voices assure him that they love him just as much as each other - he believes them. But when he’s alone in his bedroom at night, he still remembers what it’s like before he joined them. And though he’s no longer jealous of their closeness, he can’t help but entertain thoughts of the two of them together. How they must have made love passionately and with abandon, in ways they wouldn’t dream of now that Bakugou is with them.
And now he learns they apparently used to roleplay as him? His ego is rock hard from that piece of knowledge alone.
“Let’s see it.” He says, and it’s obvious that possibility was not something that crossed either of their minds. Deku sputters, freckles darkening deeper, and Kirishima looks at him, trying to communicate without words.
“Right now?” Deku squeaks.
Bakugou shrugs, settling in comfortably against the wall. “Why not? We need a study break.”
They share a look before Deku sighs, though his face is so red he appears close to passing out. “Ok. I’ll go first, I guess.”
They start off slow. Kissing, hand holding. Deku hovers over Kirishima, pushing him to lay back on the bed, caging him in with his arms. They make out on the bed for several minutes, and though normally Bakugou would be content to enjoy the show (maybe jack off while he’s at it), he really wants them to get on with it.
He clears his throat loudly and notices Deku stiffen, mouth freezing over Kirishima’s as they’re kissing. Kirishima pulls away and his expression softens, hands stroking up and down Deku’s flank.
“Hey,” He says softly, “Want me to go first?”
Deku nods, and then suddenly Kirishima is flipping them over, and he towers over the shorter boy, pinning his arms above his head.
“It’s so cute how nervous you still get around him.” He mumbles against Deku’s skin, mouth trailing kisses down his jaw and neck. He sits back to pull Deku’s shirt off and dives back down, capturing one of his pink nipples between his teeth.
“Really makes me wanna suck your fucking cock.” His tone lowers to a growl, and he scrapes his nails down the other’s skin. When he reaches the waistband he rips them down to his knees, exposing Deku’s flushed, erect prick to the room, and takes it in hand.
“Gonna fuck you with my mouth ‘til you cry like a little bitch, Deku.”
Deku moans, hands flying up to cover his face as Kirishima lowers his face onto Deku’s lap and swallows him whole, immediately setting a brutal pace.
Whoa. Bakugou doesn’t think he sounds quite like that, but there’s something exciting about witnessing this. Judging by Deku’s reactions he’s clearly very into it, and Kirishima seems to be getting into it himself, blowing the other boy with a frenzy and roughness Bakugou’s never seen from him before.
Kirishima slides off with a wet pop, still stroking Deku through it. “How does my mouth feel, Deku? You wanna bust a nut in your precious Kacchan’s mouth? Huh? Gonna get me all filthy?”
”Y-yes!” Deku gasps, but then Kirishima’s letting go and sitting back, huffing out a laugh.
“Too bad. Loser nerd’s don’t get that privilege.”
Well, that’s a bit cruel. “Hold up.” Bakugou interrupts. “I might be a dickhead but I’d at least finish him off!”
Deku drops his hands from his face. “You would? Aww, Kacchan!”
“Shut up! I just don’t half-ass things, that’s all it is!”
Kirishima scoffs. “Whatever. It wasn’t bad for an impression, though, right? Midoriya used to love it when I’d call him names pretending to be you.”
Oh, he did now, did he? Bakugou looks at Deku, who’s pointedly not meeting his eyes.
“Hey, Deku. Your turn.”
“Umm…” His face is downturned, expression partially masked by his head of curls. He’s still naked on the bed and his cock still standing at attention, and Kirishima’s lips are shiny from sucking. Bakugou’s prick aches, and he gets an idea.
“How ‘bout this: Whoever does the best impression of me - as judged by me - gets to fuck my mouth and come all over my face.”
Kirishima straightens, smile stretching across his features. “Hell yeah! Midoriya, let’s do this!”
Deku looks a little less certain though, gaze flickering between the pair, but his eyes linger on Bakugou’s mouth a bit longer than normal. Finally, he nods.
“OK. Get ready, Kirishima-kun.” He says, and his brows furrow determined, mouth straightening into a thin line.
Deku gets Kirishima naked first. He lays him on his back, spreading his legs wide, and wraps a meaty, scarred hand around both of their cocks, pumping slowly. Bakugou’s not sure when the impression was supposed to have begun, but at some point Kirishima starts moaning his name. ’Bakugou, Bakugou, oh fuck me, Bakugou~’, and when Deku finally speaks he notices the change.
“You like that, Shitty Hair?” He asks in a deep growl nearly identical to Bakugou’s own voice. And while Bakugou would never call Kirishima one of those dumb nicknames during sex, the change in voice alone nearly makes up for it.
But then there’s his face, too. Bakugou’s sure he doesn’t look so constipated except, well, when he’s actually constipated, but it’s uncanny how different Deku looks when he’s making the face that he is. His eyebrows fall heavy over narrowed eyes, his lips curl back over his teeth in a vicious snarl, his irises carrying a brutal harshness Bakugou’s not used to seeing in them.
And Kirishima’s getting really into it. Lube has appeared and he’s fingering himself open as they rub dicks together, stretching his hole on two fingers, his breaths coming out in quick pants. He’s so eager for it, Bakugou can tell - and he wonders why the fuck neither of them ever seem to be this fucking horny for it when they’re actually getting screwed by him.
Deku lines his cock up with Kirishima’s asshole. “Sure you can take it?” He asks in a mocking tone, and dammit, how the hell does it sound so much like him? If Bakugou didn’t know any better, he’d swear he was listening to a voice recording of himself.
Holding his ass apart, Kirishima moans. “I can take it, baby. I can take anything you give me.”
The smug bastard has the audacity to smirk at that, and that’s it for Bakugou. He sits up on his knees and places a hand in the middle of Deku’s chest, pushing him back before he can thrust in.
“I’ve decided.” He says over Kirishima’s noises of protest, and after he shushes Kirishima with a hand to the face he continues. “Deku. Yours was… a little less shitty.”
Deku’s face splits into a wide grin, hands clapping over his mouth in joy. Kirishima deflates, but - like the good guy he is - still offers Deku a congratulatory smile.
They reposition themselves. Bakugou kneels on the floor by the bed, now as naked as the other two, and Kirishima sits to Deku’s right, slowly pumping his length as he watches Deku slide his cock inside Bakugou’s open mouth. As he promised, Bakugou doesn’t move his face. He relaxes his jaw and mouth as much as he’s able, and allows Deku to fuck into him, hips rocking back and forth. He licks and slurps along his shaft as he gets face-fucked, and pretty soon Deku’s holding onto the sides of his head and slamming his dick into him.
“Oh, shit, that’s hot.” Kirishima mutters beside them, and for the second Bakugou’s attention is ripped away he feels sorry for him. He pulls away from Deku and crooks a finger at him, voice raw as he tells him to come over.
He takes a cock in each hand and jerks them off simultaneously, alternating swirling his tongue over one head to do so with the other, over and over until Kirishima grips him by the hair. He tugs Bakugou to face his cock and without any warning, shoots his load all over his face, covering his nose and lips and tongue.
Bakugou works Kirishima through it, works Deku’s cock over at the same time, and feels him tremble. He must be close, too, because there’s fat tears in his eyes and he’s looking down at Bakugou like he’s the most wonderful thing he’s ever seen. It makes his stomach twist in knots.
“Kacchan.” He gasps. “Kacchan, I love you.”
Bakugou’s about to tell him to shut the fuck up when more sticky warmth splatters across his face and he closes his eyes, letting the rest wash over him. He wipes his face off with his hand and stares down at his palm coated in his boyfriends’ combined jizz, feels his neglected cock throb.
“Don’t say such embarrassing things when you’re giving someone a facial, Deku.” He chides, and then he’s being knocked onto the ground by an elated Kirishima, who covers Bakugou’s face in a flurry of kisses and hugs him tight.
“I love you, too, you know that? I love you both so much.”
Bakugou’s heart hurts, like it’ll burst right out of his chest. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this. He hugs him back lightly, looking over his shoulder at Deku who’s wiping tears off his eyes with the back of his hands.
“Hey…” He says after a moment, and the two look at him. “Someone better get me off before I kill you both.”
“Ah,” Deku laughs as he slides off the bed to join the other two, “Kacchan still does the best Kacchan.”