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"Surely that's not how you do it," Kirishima whispers in disbelief, eyes locked on the screen in front of him.
"It's porn, dumbass. Don't you think they'd know how to do it?" Bakugou shoots back, equally engaged.
On screen, a woman is pushing a fourth finger into a moaning man's gaping hole, which is dripping with lube and saliva from where she had eaten him out earlier.
"Four fingers? Looks like a lot," Kirishima says dubiously. "Wouldn't that hurt, eventually?"
In his periphery, he can see Bakugou rolling his eyes. "Not if you do it right. Do you not know anything?"
Kirishima half-turns to him, glancing between his best friend and the screen. They're closer than he expected, since they're both huddled over Bakugou's laptop, sitting on the edge of his bed.
"Not really," he confesses sheepishly. When Bakugou gives him a mildly surprised look, he only shrugs. "What? It's not like I've... been with anyone, or whatever." His eyes dart back toward the screen; somehow, it's less embarrassing than looking at Bakugou after confessing his inexperience.
It's silent for a moment. "Four fingers isn't that extreme," Bakugou eventually says, and Kirishima huffs.
"How do you even know, dude?" His eyes go wide, and he turns to stare at him. Had Bakugou slept with someone before? Kirishima didn't think so - there was no one that Bakugou had ever shown any interest in, and he hadn't heard anything through the thin wall separating their dorm rooms.
Well. He had, on rare occasions, heard a little bit of noise. But those noises were always exclusively Bakugou, just his muffled groans and the familiar sound of sparks popping.
Kirishima always put in earbuds on those nights, to give his friend privacy. And if sometimes he forgot to actually turn on any music, that was no one's business. "I just know," Bakugou snaps, and Kirishima sighs.
"Man, if you don't actually know, you don't have to pretend that you do-" he's saying, and Bakugou cuts him off.
"I can take three no problem. I bet I could take four too, better than that guy anyway," he retorts, his thumb gesturing at the screen in indication, before he clamps his mouth shut.
Bakugou's jaw is tense, but Kirishima's hangs open in surprise.
"Don't you fucking say a word-" he starts, but Kirishima is already talking over him.
"You've done this?" His tone is incredulous.
The tips of Bakugou's ears burn. "Just to myself," he mutters.
Kirishima's mind immediately flashes back to his earlier thoughts about nights listening to Bakugou getting himself off, but now the mental image changes. Before, he had pictured Bakugou on his back, legs spread casually as he works his fist over his cock.
Now, the Bakugou in his head is on his knees on the mattress, one hand holding himself up while the other reaches behind himself, shoving his fingers into his own body.
"To yourself?" he squeaks, and Bakugou glares at him.
"What, like you could do any better?" he scoffs, and tries not to freeze too obviously when he realizes what he said. Damn his big mouth.
Kirishima notices, of course. But he only chuckles self-deprecatingly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Probably not."
And if anyone can't stand slander against one Kirishima Eijirou, it's Bakugou Katsuki.
Bakugou is immediately snatching up Kirishima's hand, pointing at his fingers. His urge to boost Kirishima's self-worth is stronger than his usual bravado. "You have the fingers for it though," he insists. Lifting both of their hands, he holds them side by side for comparison.
"See? Yours are thicker, a little longer," he points out, and Kirishima sees it. His whole hand dwarfs Bakugou's in general, and has ever since he had a massive growth spurt over the summer after their second year.
But his fingers are bigger, just like Bakugou described. They might even be good for fingering someone like in the porn they're watching. "Yeah, they probably are," Bakugou agrees, voice pitched a little higher in surprise. Kirishima flushes pink when he realizes that he must've said that last bit out loud.
"You think?"
Their gazes both shift, and suddenly they're looking at each other, eyes meeting. There's some kind of new tension in the air, thick and heavy with something that Kirishima hasn't felt outside of late nights with his own hand.
Bakugou clears his throat. "Only one way to find out."
The porn is forgotten, long since muted and left playing on a half-open laptop screen.
It was awkward, but Bakugou had eventually reached into the top drawer of his nightstand to pull out a bottle. The bottle that now rested in Kirishima's hand. Now they're facing each other, Bakugou settled back against a pillow propped up on the headboard, and Kirishima just sitting there staring at him.
"Get the fuck over here, idiot," Bakugou bites out, spreading his legs. Kirishima scrambles to kneel between them, still several inches away.
His grip on the bottle tightens as he gets closer, but he forces himself to relax. It's only Bakugou, after all. His best friend, who he's about to finger. About to potentially lose his virginity too, holy shit- and Bakugou's hand cups his jaw, forcing Kirishima to meet his gaze.
"Hey. Chill out, you're killing the mood," he grumbles, although there's worry in his eyes.
"Is there even a mood? We haven't done anything," Kirishima points out, and Bakugou nods very seriously.
"That's true..." he mumbles. "We should probably like. Kiss, or some shit."
Kirishima's eyebrows shoot up so fast that they could've flown right off his face. "You wanna kiss me?" he asks incredulously, and Bakugou's eyes narrow into a glare.
"Not if you're gonna be a dick about it!" he says hotly, starting to close his legs, and finally Kirishima's hand shoots out to land on his knee.
Shaking his head, he keeps Bakugou's legs from closing. "That's not what I meant! I just was surprised, that's all," he explains, giving his friend a reassuring smile even though he was still nervous. "Kissing... is probably a good idea."
Bakugou crosses his arms across his chest, avoiding his gaze. "I'm fucking full of good ideas," he grumbles petulantly.
The behavior is more of what Kirishima is used to, and it helps him relax. His smile is even more genuine now, and he drops the bottle on the mattress in favor of gently prying Bakugou's arms away from his chest.
Bakugou only puts up token resistance before he lets his arms fall away, not even tugging his wrists out from Kirishima's grip.
Kirishima waits patiently, still smiling, until Bakugou finally looks at him again. He jumps a little bit when he sees how openly Kirishima is watching him, and finally tugs his wrists away. But Kirishima is surprised that Bakugou then curls one hand in the front of his shirt, pulling Kirishima closer. "Don't just stare! If you're gonna kiss me, just fucking do it," he orders, and who is Kirishima to resist?
He leans forward slowly, cautiously. But apparently Bakugou is sick of waiting, because the hand gripping his shirt yanks, and Kirishima careens forward. Their foreheads knock together painfully, and they both yelp, immediately jerking back.
"Fuck, shitty hair!" Bakugou swears, rubbing at his forehead. "I said kiss me, not fucking headbutt me!"
Kirishima is laughing as he rubs his own forehead. It would be more embarrassing if it was anyone besides Bakugou there with him, but he is always at ease in his best friend's presence.
"Sorry, sorry," he apologizes through his laughter, grinning widely at Bakugou. "In my defense, you were the one that yanked me forward like that."
Bakugou sticks his tongue out at him. "Shut up."
Strangely, the embarrassing moment seems to have broken the last bit of awkwardness between them. They're both suddenly much more relaxed as they sit there and look at each other, Bakugou shaking his head in what Kirishima knows to be mock-disapproval. He can see the fondness in the way Bakugou's lips are slightly upturned, imperceptible to anyone who doesn't know him as well as Kirishima does.
"Let's just try again, okay?" Bakugou mutters, and Kirishima nods.
"I'll get it right this time, I promise!" he cheers.
This time, Bakugou lets him move in slowly, like he had tried to do before. Kirishima's eyes are darting between expectant crimson eyes and the pretty pink of Bakugou's lips, and he shifts ever so closer on the bed. They're close enough now that their breath intermingles, but Kirishima hesitates for a moment.
And then Bakugou's eyes flutter closed, and Kirishima takes that as his cue. He leans forward that last bit, pressing their lips together in a firm, closed mouth kiss. They both remain still for a moment, and time stretches out between them- until Bakugou's hand finds its way into Kirishima's hair, and Kirishima lights up.
Their lips move together with increasing intensity, going from awkward to almost sweet to more, heating up in ways that Kirishima had only ever dreamed of before.
He doesn't realize that his hands are roaming Bakugou's body until he feels rather than hears the quiet moan against his mouth. He pulls back to see a flush on his friend's cheeks, and Kirishima's own hands smoothing over Bakugou's chest and shoulders.
"Good?" he asks breathlessly, and red eyes snap open.
"Obviously," Bakugou answers sharply, like it should be obvious, and arches his back enough to push his chest against Kirishima's hands. "Now get the fuck on with it."
Kirishima can work with that.
He may not have the practical experience, but he does have some idea of how this is supposed to go. His hands slide down Bakugou's chest, trailing lower and lower.
It's a surprise when Bakugou's hips rock up expectantly, and based on the look on his face, Bakugou is surprised too.
"I was just gonna take off your shirt," Kirishima explains with a slight laugh, embarrassingly breathy.
His hips settle back against the mattress, and Bakugou waves a hand impatiently, the "get on with it" apparent in the gesture. Kirishima tentatively slips his hands under Bakugou's shirt, fingers hooking on the hem and tugging up. Bakugou lifts his arms, and the shirt is stripped off and tossed to the floor in an instant.
"You too," Bakugou commands, and Kirishima is quick to remove his own shirt, which joins Bakugou's in a pile on the floor.
Things seem a lot more real now that they're both bare-chested, but Kirishima only feels more excited. Sure, he's nervous, but in a giddy way, thrilled by what they're doing. He's not even self-conscious when Bakugou very obviously checks him out - he knows that he looks good, what with all of the care he takes of his body.
"Pants?" Bakugou prompts, and Kirishima just barely nods before they're both scrambling to get out of their pants, leaving themselves in only boxers.
As soon as they're both mostly bared, Kirishima is on Bakugou again, pressing him back against his pillows as their lips meet fervently. This time, he's incredibly aware of his own roaming hands. He feels every curve of muscle under his palms, follows the swell of Bakugou's chest with questing fingertips. He finds one of his nipples, pinching it experimentally.
Bakugou breaks the kiss to hiss out a "Not so hard!" before he dives back into the kiss, their teeth clacking messily in their fervor. Kirishima tugs at his nipple again, lighter this time. This attempt makes Bakugou inhale sharply, and he presses up into the contact again.
Instead of continuing with his fingers, Kirishima lowers his head and sucks the nipple into his mouth, laving his tongue over the bud until it peaks under the attention. He's going on pure instinct here, but it seems to be working, based on the stuttering noises that Bakugou is making.
It makes heat coil in Kirishima's gut, and he can't help but to roll his hips down, grinding his erection against Bakugou's thigh. Both of them gasp, and Kirishima immediately does it again, moaning against Bakugou's chest.
"Stop messing around!" Bakugou snaps, but his voice is weak, raspy. "I'm trying to prove something here."
Oh, right.
Kirishima had gotten a little lost in exploring Bakugou's body, so the reminder of what his original task was is welcome. He pulls his mouth away from his nipple, smiling sheepishly up at Bakugou.
"Sorry, dude!" he chirps.
Bakugou flicks his forehead instantly. "Do not call me dude when you're about to finger me."
Kirishima is laughing as he shimmies down the bed, only pausing to push Bakugou's legs open wide again. He hooks a finger in the waistband of Bakugou's boxers but doesn't do anything yet.
He simply looks at his friend in obvious question, waiting until Bakugou gives him the smallest nod of permission. Then he gently pulls the boxers down, both of them shifting around to get the offending material off.
And then Bakugou is fully naked.
Kirishima's eyes are wide, and he licks his lips unconsciously as he takes in the view. The cock nestled between Bakugou's legs is achingly hard, curved up to rest against his stomach, and dripping pre down the shaft. Neatly trimmed short blonde hairs frame his cock, and his balls squish against his thigh, heavy with unfulfilled need.
Bakugou's hand pushes at his head, and Kirishima realizes that he had just been staring for a long time. "You gonna do something, or what?" Bakugou asks, voice almost hushed with what Kirishima has to assume is a little bit of shyness - something he's never heard from his best friend.
"Y-yeah," his voice cracks, and Kirishima has to clear his throat. "Yeah," he says again, more firmly this time. "I'm gonna make you feel good." He sounds more confident than he feels, but he comforts himself with the reminder that this is just Bakugou. The thought gives him pause – there's no one else that Kirishima would rather share his first time with, he realizes.
Bakugou cracks a grin up at him. "Then do it already," he urges, "unless you want me to do it myself." His hand travels down his torso toward his own cock, and Kirishima bats it away.
"I've got this, thank you very much," he says primly, and Bakugou snorts.
Kirishima refocuses, letting his hands skate down Bakugou's sides to his thighs. What does he do? he thinks to himself, wanting to figure it out on his own. Where does he start?
Lube!
One hand leaves Bakugou's thigh and pats around the bed blindly until he finds the bottle from where he tossed it aside earlier. He can hear Bakugou hum in approval as Kirishima busies himself popping the cap open, tilting the bottle to pour it into his hand.
"Don't tilt it quite so much-!" Bakugou starts, shooting up from his laid back position a moment too late, just in time to watch Kirishima accidentally dump half the contents of the bottle all over his hand and Bakugou's stomach.
There's a heavy pause. And then they lose it.
Bakugou's ugly laugh is out in full force, and Kirishima is howling as they laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Kirishima's hand and Bakugou's stomach are drenched in lube, and it's dripping down steadily on the sheets.
"'I've got this', he says," Bakugou mocks, choked out through his terrible raspy laugh. The one that Kirishima loves, because it's real. It’s uniquely Bakugou, and it’s usually reserved for Kirishima’s ears alone. "You're such a fucking idiot."
Kirishima swipes a finger through the puddle on Bakugou's stomach, and wipes it off on his friend's cheek.
Bakugou's jaw drops in indignation, and he launches himself at Kirishima. "You bitch!" he screeches, knocking Kirishima back on the mattress. He coats his hand in the lube on his stomach and smears it all over Kirishima's chest. They're still laughing as they wrestle, and by the time they end up flat on their backs side by side, they're both breathless, panting and drowning in lube.
They take a moment to catch their breath, and then Bakugou's head lolls to the side to catch Kirishima's gaze. "The lube is supposed to be for my ass, you know," he informs, perfectly straight-faced, and that only makes them dissolve into laughter again.
It takes several minutes before they collect themselves again, but soon enough Kirishima is propping himself up on his elbow to better see his friend. They smile goofily at each other for a long minute, and then they’re both moving at the same time, lips clashing in a sloppy kiss once more.
This one is messier than the others, tongues and teeth meeting with a fire that's been building for too long now. Kirishima rolls back on top of Bakugou, and Bakugou's hands are immediately shoving Kirishima’s boxers down, until they're both finally, completely bare.
As soon as the boxers are flung carelessly across the room - knocking down the cup of pens on Bakugou's desk, not that either of them notice - Kirishima is grinding down against Bakugou, their cocks sliding together and making them both moan into each other's mouths. They get a little lost in it, writhing together like that for a while, panting and groaning as they rock against each other in delirious tandem.
"Goddammit, just get your fucking fingers in me already," Bakugou pants, just before sinking his teeth into Kirishima's neck and sucking a dark mark there.
The prick of pain bleeds deliciously into the pleasure, and Kirishima has to force himself away from Bakugou's mouth. "Shit, yeah, okay," he agrees breathlessly, swiping his hand against Bakugou's stomach to recollect lube, coating his fingers in it.
Bakugou is already spreading his legs as soon as Kirishima sits back on his haunches. For the first time, Kirishima catches a glimpse of his pretty pink hole, the rim of it fluttering enticingly under the attention.
"How many times do I have to tell you to stop staring?" Bakugou groans, grabbing Kirishima's wrist and dragging him forward. "Touch me, Ei."
And again, how could Kirishima say no to that? His hand finds the soft curve of Bakugou's ass, squeezing instinctively. Kirishima wants to bite that softness, but he decides to save that for another time. Because there's no way that he's not going to do this again. He’ll do it as many times as he's allowed to.
With one hand on each side, Kirishima spreads Bakugou open, admiring his clenching hole again. "Pretty," he praises, smiling when Bakugou's flush spreads down his cheeks to his chest.
One hand keeps him spread, while the other moves in closer, soaked fingers tracing lightly over that cute rim. Bakugou jolts at the stimulation, and moans. "Come on, don't tease," he urges, rocking his hips down closer to Kirishima's fingers. The tip of his middle finger presses inside from the motion, and Kirishima takes advantage of the easy glide, pushing his finger in to the knuckle in one smooth move.
Bakugou is tight, dizzyingly so. Kirishima can't imagine feeling that tightness around his cock, swallowing him in and milking around him.
Still, Bakugou is impatient. "Another! I can take it.”
So Kirishima obliges, withdrawing his hand just enough to push two fingers right back in.
A hiss escapes Bakugou's lips, and he holds up a hand. "Wait, wait. Give me a second," he wheezes, clenching again and again on the fingers inside of him.
Kirishima pauses, searching his expression worriedly. "You okay? Want me to take them out?"
"Fuck no," Bakugou exhales, thighs coming in and clamping around Kirishima's waist to keep him close. "I just gotta adjust, shit. Your fingers are thicker than mine, remember?"
A minute or two passes as Bakugou adjusts, Kirishima keeping perfectly still. His eyes fall to Bakugou's weeping cock, noticing how it's flagged just the tiniest bit as he gets accustomed to the stretch, and that just won't do at all. So Kirishima wraps his hand around his cock, stroking it slow and gentle, coaxing Bakugou's body to relax again.
Bakugou lets out a shuddering moan, hands knotting and twisting in the sheets. His body finally relaxes around the intrusion, and Kirishima carefully begins to move his fingers in and out, pumping at a slow, steady pace.
"That's it," Bakugou groans, hips stuttering between the dual points of contact. "You gotta scissor your fingers, stretch me open, yeah?"
And Kirishima does just that, spreading his fingers again and again where they're buried inside of his best friend, cajoling the muscles to looseness. He shifts positions to avoid having his leg fall asleep, and it changes the path of his fingers.
In an instant, Bakugou's back is arching high off the bed, his hand is clamping around Kirishima's wrist, and he's chanting "Stop stop stop stop!"
Kirishima's heart drops. "Are you okay? Oh fuck, did I hurt you?" he's asking desperately, trying to remove his fingers, but Bakugou's death grip won't let him budge.
The huff of laughter is shaky when it leaves Bakugou's mouth, but he's smiling. "No, I was just about to come," he laughs, still trembling and twitching from riding so close to the edge. He nudges Kirishima's hand off of his cock, but makes sure that his fingers don't leave his body."Didn't wanna come without you inside me," he admits, and Kirishima could probably come right then if the idea of doing so inside of his best friend wasn't so enticing.
Instead, he resumes fucking his fingers into Bakugou’s now malleable body. One thrust makes Bakugou's eyes roll back in his head, and he rolls his hips down wildly. "There, there!"
"Is that good?" Kirishima asks, and receives a loud moan in answer.
That's good enough for him.
With some work, Kirishima is able to slip a third finger in alongside the first two, and it's not long before Bakugou is relaxed all over again, begging for more.
Kirishima is trying to find his prostate again, fingers fumbling and searching inside, and Bakugou lifts his head to glare at him. "Just give it up and fuck me already," he whines, dipping his fingers into the excess lube on his stomach and flicking it at Kirishima.
Despite how badly Kirishima wants to do just that, he only raises an eyebrow at Bakugou, lips tugging up in a playful smile. "I thought you said you could take four fingers," he challenges slyly. "Unless you're not as good as that guy from the video?"
Bakugou scowls. "Obviously I'm better than that extra. And I don't need to prove that." Still, he waves Kirishima on. "Go on, give me a fourth."
Kirishima leans down to kiss his hip, running his free hand soothingly along Bakugou's flank. "Ready?"
"Bring it on." Bakugou's grin is sharp, but it falls away as he cries out at the feeling of Kirishima slowly pushing his fourth finger inside. The stretch of Kirishima's four thick fingers deep inside of him is beyond what he's done before, but it's divine. His whole body is quaking, but his moans are fueled by pleasure alone.
Kirishima is so proud, and also so damn turned on that he can barely think. And he certainly can't wait anymore.
Bakugou whimpers at the loss when Kirishima removes his fingers, and Kirishima makes quick work of slicking his achingly hard cock up.
He's lining himself up, Bakugou's legs wrapped tight around his hips, when he realizes. "Oh shit, don't we need a condom?" he asks, jittery with need as he starts to pull away.
"You can't get me pregnant, and we're both fucking virgins," Bakugou snaps, danger flashing in his eyes at the thought of Kirishima pulling away now. "If you don't get inside me right this goddamn second, I swear I'm gonna-"
And Kirishima slams inside.
It's a miracle that he doesn't come the instant he's fully sheathed inside of his best friend's body. It's so warm and somehow still tight as a vise around him, despite the extensive preparations.
Bakugou just barely evades his own orgasm, his hand shooting down and grasping the base of his cock tightly to hold back the looming release."Honest to fuck, Ei, eager much?" he wheezes, lifting his arms weakly. Kirishima obligingly leans down, Bakugou immediately clings to him, and they tremble as one through the overwhelming feeling.
"I think it's pretty obvious how eager I am," Kirishima chuckles breathlessly in response. He hesitantly shifts his hips, and they both cry out at the drag of his cock along Bakugou's sensitive and stretched walls. "Uh, this isn't gonna be long for me," Kirishima admits, hiding the embarrassed flush of his face against the crook of Bakugou's neck. He feels fingers carefully card through his hair, a soothing sensation amongst the overwhelming force of it all.
Bakugou clears his throat. "Me too, so uh. Don't worry about it."
Kirishima lifts his head, meeting Bakugou's gaze again now that they're both a little more clearheaded. It's easy to just grin at each other, giddy and eager and glad to be sharing this together.
And then Bakugou is flicking his forehead again, and his thighs flex around Kirishima's waist in obvious demand. But before Bakugou can say anything, Kirishima already knows what to do. His hips withdraw shakily, but he's quick to snap them forward again, making them both cry out sharply.
From there, it's all driven by instinct. His thrusts are erratic, sloppy and without a rhythm, but Bakugou doesn't seem to care. There's no finesse to their movements, but they're both rolling and grinding in a fever, clinging to each other as they fall apart.
Kirishima doesn't know how many thrusts it takes before that familiar knot builds in his gut, but it's not a lot. "Kats- Katsuki, fuck, I'm gonna cum," he pants, hardly able to speak through the pleasure that winds its way through his body, tensing his muscles and drawing his balls taut.
"Fuck yes, fucking fill me up, come on," Bakugou demands, squeezing around Kirishima's cock and making him keen.
Even through the haze clouding his mind, Kirishima still finds the will to drop to one elbow, shoving his other arm between their bodies to take hold of Bakugou's cock again. He'll be damned if he doesn't make Bakugou come while stuffed just like he bragged about.
"Come on Kats, with me, with me," Kirishima begs, stroking Bakugou off with a shaky hand. The strokes aren't graceful when he's only ever jerked himself off before, but what he lacks in practice he makes up for in enthusiasm. Bakugou is essentially just grinding himself up against Kirishima's hand instead of any real handjob, but it's still more than enough to give Bakugou that last little push he needs.
And right before he tips over the edge, he strains up to kiss Kirishima again. Kirishima ends up coming immediately with a surprised shout of Bakugou's name, accidentally biting Bakugou's lip to bleeding with his sharp teeth.
Bakugou barely registers the pain before he's distracted by the feeling of that fullness spreading inside of him, as Kirishima comes deep inside, filling his guts and making him feel almost unbearably full. But it's incredible, and the strangeness of the sensation stands no chance of holding back the tidal wave of his orgasm as it crashes over him, spurred on by Kirishima murmuring half-unintelligible praise in his ear.
"So good, feel so amazing, did so well," he's babbling, clearly out of it.
Bakugou is hazy himself, but not so much that his breath doesn't whoosh out of him when Kirishima drops unceremoniously directly on top of him. "Get the fuck off of me, you oaf," he groans, shoving weakly at Kirishima's shoulders.
But Kirishima only nuzzles his face against Bakugou's shoulder, mindlessly kissing over the muscle there. "No. Can't move," he grunts, and Bakugou groans but doesn't protest any more. It's kinda nice after all, to have his best friend sprawled out on top of him, brought to ruin by Bakugou's body.
He doesn't notice when he passes out, and Kirishima must do the same, because weak morning sunlight filters in through the blinds the next time Bakugou opens his eyes. His skin feels disgusting. It feels like every inch of him has tacked over with that ridiculous amount of lube that Kirishima dumped on them, not to mention the sweat and his own cum that dried on his stomach.
"Lesson learned: clean up before falling asleep," a low voice rumbles in his ear, and Bakugou's gaze shifts to see a freshly awake Kirishima, smiling sleepily at him, stretching.
"Lesson learned: don't let you anywhere fucking close to lube ever again. Only I handle that from now on," Bakugou snipes back, and Kirishima's smile widens.
"From now on?" he asks, excited at the implication of a future of this.
Bakugou shrugs, all feigned nonchalance that Kirishima can see right through. "I'm sure there's some other shit on that dumb porn site that we'll have to test out. Just to see if it's real. For science."
Kirishima laughs, shoving at Bakugou's shoulder, who shoves him back. It escalates into a brief tussle, and this time Bakugou comes out on top, knees pinning Kirishima's hips to the mattress.
"And maybe for a few other reasons," he finally admits.
Kirishima smiles happily up at him, pulling him down with one hand for a kiss. It's slow with morning laziness, but it's perfect. And a perfect distraction - Bakugou doesn't notice that Kirishima has picked up the bottle again, and doesn't notice until the rest of the lube is upended over his head.
Bakugou freezes, and Kirishima starts cackling. "You have two seconds to run, dumbass," Bakugou threatens, and Kirishima just barely worms out from under him and starts running before Bakugou is after him with a vengeance.
They're sliding around the bedroom like idiots, utterly drenched again and falling all over each other. Of course, they're not wasteful. They make sure to make good use of every last drop of that lube.
And they never notice the quiet sounds of the porn still playing on Bakugou's laptop. His computer gets completely overrun with viruses, but. It's totally worth it.