Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13465017.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      僕のヒーローアカデミア_|_Boku_no_Hero_Academia_|_My_Hero_Academia
  Relationship:
      Bakugou_Katsuki/Kirishima_Eijirou/Midoriya_Izuku, Bakugou_Katsuki/
      Midoriya_Izuku, Kirishima_Eijirou/Midoriya_Izuku, Bakugou_Katsuki/
      Kirishima_Eijirou
  Character:
      Bakugou_Katsuki, Midoriya_Izuku, Kirishima_Eijirou
  Additional Tags:
      Porn_with_Feelings, Angst, Threesome_-_M/M/M, Mutual_Pining,
      Introspection, Voyeurism, Eavesdropping, Blow_Jobs, Making_Out,
      Snowballing, Rimming, Anal_Fingering, Frottage, Anal_Sex, Post-Coital
      Cuddling, Masturbation, Bakugou_Katsuki_is_Bad_at_Feelings, Polyamory,
      Manga_Spoilers, chapter_163
  Series:
      Part 2 of gazing_outward_and_inward
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-01-24 Words: 8779
****** The Good Hurt ******
by clairesail
Summary
          Deku is still waiting for an answer, and all Bakugou can
          think about is how he sounds in the height of ecstasy –
          something he was never meant to hear, a sound meant for
          someone else's ears. And he wants so badly for it to be his
          name they call, for it to be him they coo about how good he
          feels.
          He wonders what it would be like to make someone feel good,
          instead of bad.
Notes
     This is a sequel to my KiriDeku fic Gazing_Outward, but it's not
     necessary to read that before for this fic to make sense. All you
     need to know is that it takes place after the Internship arc of the
     manga and Kirishima and Deku have been in a relationship since then.
     Of course, what kind of author would I be if I didn't promote my own
     stuff, though - so I do highly encourage you to give the other fic a
     read if you haven't!
     And a special thanks to my friend Gab for beta-reading for me! <3
See the end of the work for more notes
A muffled cry reverberates through the paper thin walls and straight through
Bakugou's bones.
He feels it itching across his skin, from his ears down, down his collar and
his ribs, settling heavy in his pelvis where it throbs.
Kirishima and Deku are at it again. Nearly every night they torture him with
this, their passionate wails and broken moans, crying each other's names,
breaths so hot and thick he can practically feel the moist air puff against his
neck, can imagine what it must feel like for them.
But he can only imagine. His hands clench with want, with a yearning he's never
had before. A yearning to touch, to hold, to kiss, to feel another person's
skin scorch his. They have it; ever since they returned from their internships,
the same on the surface but somehow different underneath, they've spent their
nights together, and Bakugou's had to hear all of it.
Bakugou's never been with anyone like that before. He's pretty sure they hadn't
either, until they did with each other. It's not something he can find the
frame of mind to give a shit about normally, but whatever it is, they've beat
him at it. Another thing the two of them have surpassed him at, leaving him
behind to eat their dust.
Just when he was starting to feel something. No, if he's honest with himself –
and he's been trying hard to do that lately – the feelings have been there for
some time, but he's only recently been ready to admit it to himself. To admit
that maybe there's something other than being number one, something other than
winning that he cares about.
Someone. Two someones. But now, they have moved on without him. They've moved
on, together.
He snakes a hand down to his waistband, loosening the drawstring until he can
slip past it comfortably. His palm is sweaty as he gropes himself, treating
himself roughly and with no gentleness. He treats himself rough, as he wishes
to be treated, as he wishes to be viewed by others. If his touch is too
delicate, too tender – it'll only serve to grow him accustomed to that kind of
attention, which he knows he can never expect to receive from someone else.
What would they think if they knew what he's doing on the other side of the
wall? That he doesn't just picture himself with one of them, but both of them?
That if he had to pick, he wouldn't be able to choose?
The fist around his dick tightens, the sweat collecting and making his
movements smooth and wet, adding to his arousal. He won't last very long – he
never does – and when he feels himself teetering on the edge like walking a
tightrope, he jerks his hand out of his pants and rolls onto his belly to hump
the mattress. A single bare wisp of smoke curls from his palm, and he wipes the
sweat off against his sheets, twisting his fingers into them after and using
the leverage to fuck himself against his bed. The softness of his sweatpants is
too much, and he comes, feels wetness splatter and stick to his crotch and his
thighs as he works his hips methodically over and over until his cock has
stopped twitching and he can catch his breath.
Bakugou is silent when he orgasms. He has to be, lest the two boys on the other
side of the wall – the one he acknowledges as an equal and the one he's only
recently realized has always been his equal – hear him and know that he wants
them just as bad as they want each other. If only he could be tangled up in
their limbs, if only he can feel those rough hands run up and down his muscles,
rub away his doubts and fears. Squeeze around his throat just a little too
tight. Kiss him until he bleeds.
He wants them to hurt him. Bakugou doesn't deserve their gentleness, doesn't
deserve the compassion they so freely give. But he still wants to feel it.

===============================================================================

The sun is low in the sky when Todoroki and Bakugou make their way back to the
dorms from one of their remedial lessons. Bakugou is a mixture of physically
and mentally drained, his feet dragging against the sidewalk, his thoughts
preoccupied with going straight to bed and getting some much-needed sleep
before the assholes the next room over keep him awake.
“Kacchan?”
The voice of one of those assholes sounds softly when he nears the doors to the
1-A dorms. Todoroki throws him a single, blank glance before continuing inside,
and Bakugou should follow after. But he stops.
He doesn't know why he does. He should keep going, should ignore him. It's what
he wants to do, but no matter how hard he's tried he's never been able to
completely ignore Deku. Especially not now, not after -
 
“Oh, fuck, Midoriya~” Kirishima moans. He glances down to where his cock is
straining against his stomach and he takes it in hand, working it over hard,
listening to them.
 
A shudder ripples down Bakugou's spine as he turns to face him.
“What.” He barks. Deku stands there, small despite the progress he's made,
despite how far he's outpaced Bakugou. It makes him want to punch him again. He
shouldn't be going around looking so weak when between the two of them, it's
Bakugou who's the weak one.
Deku laces his fingers together before taking them back apart, letting them
fall to his side. It's obvious he's nervous, whatever he's about to say. “I was
thinking, um, I don't know if you would be interested, I'm not sure-”
Bakugou rolls his eyes, cuts him off. He doesn't have all evening. “Spit it
out.”
“R-right.” He says, inhaling deeply. He squares his shoulders and looks Bakugou
straight in the eyes. “I was wondering if you'd like to train with me? Like,
uh, spar? Like that advice you gave me about switching up my punches and kicks
really helped me and you're much better than I am at fighting and Kirishima-kun
said you two have sparred together and-”
“Ugh, shut up, Deku.” He snaps, lips pulling back in a sneer. He knows what
Deku's doing. Trying to appeal to his ego, but damn if the praise doesn't still
make him feel good. He shuffles on his feet, considering the request.
He'd get to put his hands on Deku again, he'd get to feel his hands on him.
When he sees Deku win, he'll know it's only because Bakugou helped him, that
he's only as strong as he is because Bakugou let him, that he can't go anywhere
without him.
It's twisted to think like that, he knows. But he's not a good boy like
Kirishima and Deku. He's not good like them.
 
“So good, so good – god you feel so good Kirishima!-”
 
He can't do this.
Deku is still waiting for an answer, and all he can think about is how he
sounds in the height of ecstasy – something he was never meant to hear, a sound
meant for someone else's ears. And he wants so badly for it to be his name they
call, for it to be him they coo about how good he feels.
He wonders what it would be like to make someone feel good, instead of bad.
“Fine. Tomorrow after class.” He says, and immediately regrets it. It's not a
good idea; it wouldn't be smart for the two of them to get physical, even if
it's only sparring. But he's always been a fool when it comes to Deku.
 
===============================================================================

He can hear them thump against the bed, rhythmic squeaking of Kirishima's bed,
soft grunts and bodies rustling against each other. Bakugou's hand curls
loosely around his limp dick, chest heaving as he listens, as he feels his dick
swell as the noises start to crescendo. By the time his dick is leaking on his
belly, hurting for friction, the pair on the other side of the wall are
shouting, not even trying to be quiet.
“Fuck,” He allows himself to whisper, and places a hand against his wall,
trying to siphon some of their body heat through it.
He's left touching a cold wall, with fingers that are too harsh when he comes.
It hurts almost, and it shocks him so he doesn't realize he's cried out until
the noises on the other side have gone dead silent.
Bakugou slaps a hand over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut, and counts his
breaths. His heartbeat thunders in his ears, the scent of his sickly-sweet palm
sweat fills his nostrils, and he slowly drags his hand down away from his
mouth, straining his ears to listen, breaths shaky on the exhales. He waits for
the knock at his door, but it never comes.
Finally, one agonizing minute later, the sounds of lovemaking in the other room
resume, subdued and, if Bakugou isn't imagining it, ashamed.
 
===============================================================================

They look at him in class.
He can feel their eyes on his back, and during lunch he sees Deku across the
cafeteria. Deku blushes when he's caught, eyes flickering away but not too far,
as if he was only looking around and Bakugou just happened to meet his eyes at
the same moment. Bakugou itches with the urge to confront, but not with fists
clenched ready to strike as he did last time, when his selfish actions got them
both put on house arrest. This time he would meet him outside the dormitory
with fingers loosened, anticipation strumming through his veins as Deku slams
him against the brick wall and takes what he wants from him.
He wouldn't make it easy for him though. He'd make Deku fight for the
privilege.
 
When he catches Kirishima looking in class, he doesn't try to hide it.
Kirishima smiles at him small and bashful, not at all like his usual broad,
cheerful grins, then looks away when Bakugou doesn't return the smile with a
readable expression of any kind. Kirishima he lets stew in his uncertainty.
Kirishima, who's been torturing Bakugou since they've known each other with
little touches on the shoulders, with smiles that are too bright, with a tone
of familiarity Bakugou didn't grant him permission to use – Kirishima's been
trying to light his match from the beginning, and it would have only been a
matter of time before something caught and Bakugou would explode like a powder
keg and consume him.
 
But for now, these are just fantasies. Kirishima and Deku have each other, and
any deeper meaning behind the gazes they cast towards Bakugou must be his
imagination.
If they knew what he thought late at night, when their love for each other
penetrates the walls and his heart, when he can't stop his hand from trailing
down to touch his aching dick, they'd be disgusted.
“Gross, Kacchan!” Deku would say and scrunch up his nose. “You treated me like
shit our entire childhood, how can you think such things about me?”
“That's kind of pathetic, Bakugou.” Kirishima would say, as gently as he can,
because he's too nice to ever be directly cruel. “I followed you because I
thought you were strong, but you can't even pass the license exam... I'm sorry,
but you'd just hold me back now.”
And they wouldn't be wrong. He is pathetic.
No wonder they've moved on from him.
 
===============================================================================
 
It's nighttime in the dorms and Bakugou's alone in the common room when
Kirishima enters. Kirishima's hair is clean and damp from a shower, a small
towel draped across his shoulders, one hand latched to the end of the towel and
the other busy with his phone. He sits down on the couch across from Bakugou,
not taking his eyes off the screen until he plops down. When he looks up, he
startles, eyes going wide for a second.
“Oh! Bakugou, I didn't think you'd be up so late.”
It isn't that late, it's only 21:00, but Bakugou supposes he's given his
classmates enough reason to think he'd be asleep at this hour. The truth is, he
just likes to spend the nights in his room alone, in the peace and quiet of
solitude.
Well, it used to be quiet.
“It's not like I can fucking sleep with you and Deku next door, can I?” He
snaps in response before he can really think better of it, and despite himself
his cheeks flush hot, prickling the nape of his neck.
Kirishima's gone wide-eyed again, his phone slipping through his fingers to
fall on his lap with a muted thud. “So... you can hear us...” Kirishima says
quietly, almost to himself, before meeting Bakugou's eyes with pink cheeks.
“Sorry if... if we've kept you awake. That isn't our intention.”
Bakugou makes a show of rolling his eyes, determined not to let Kirishima know
just how affected he is by the whole thing.
“Can't you do that shit in Deku's room?”
“We do, sometimes, but. But sometimes-” And he cuts himself off, voice warbling
with nerves, before he seems to find his courage and barrel through, “-we want
you to hear us.”
Bakugou's mind goes blank, unable to comprehend.
“Why?”
“We – I thought you might like it?”
Like it? In what universe would Bakugou - could Bakugou ever like hearing them
fuck each other? Hearing the two boys he wants all to himself, ignoring him and
being with each other? Bakugou's the loser on the other side of the wall,
pathetically finding love with his right hand while he listens to them loudly
declare their passion for one another.
He stands up, furious, and stomps away towards the elevators. “What the fuck?
Is this some fucking kink thing? You get off on someone else being able to hear
you, is that it you fucking pervert?” He calls over his shoulder as he storms,
not caring if anyone else can hear him.
But Kirishima chases him down, shooting an arm through the elevator doors to
halt their closing and slips in beside Bakugou. He moves to leave and take the
stairs but Kirishima grabs his sleeve, an appeal in his eyes as he presses the
button to close the doors with his other hand. When they're alone once more in
the quiet of the elevator making its ascent, Kirishima explains.
“It's not like that.”
His eyes, so big and round and earnest, drill into Bakugou's soul and he has to
look away. Kirishima's always worn his heart on his sleeve, but it feels wrong
for Bakugou to use that to his advantage. So he grants him this privacy, he
looks away, but he feels fingers gently turning his face. Kirishima doesn't let
him look away.
He opens his mouth to say something and Bakugou feels an insult building at the
tip of his tongue, but then Kirishima is on his mouth, lips hungrily eating up
Bakugou's last line of defense. His fingers thread through Bakugou's hair, tugs
on the strands, and a tongue slides against his, caresses and licks him.
He feels like he's being devoured and he's too hot, too hot all over, his palms
drenched, shoulders tensed, body curling in on itself ready to fight and -
He shoves Kirishima off just as the elevator doors ding open and he hurries
down the hall, telling himself that he's not running, he's not running away
from a mouth that tasted too sweet and hands that felt too right and a boy that
is too good for him. He's not running, but he slams his dorm room door shut
behind him anyway, wipes the sweat from his palms off on the towel hanging from
the door hook, and jumps face-first onto his bed.
He bounces gently on it, bunches up his pillow to yell into it. What the fuck
did Kirishima think he was doing? Is this a joke? Did he think he can have
Bakugou as a side-piece, as a fling to be tossed aside while he's fucking Deku
on the regular?
Bakugou could never allow that. Even if his body aches for it, even if he
suspects there's a vacancy in his life that only Kirishima could fill, he can
never reduce himself to someone's side bitch. If everything else is stripped
away from him, he'll have his pride at least.
And there's Deku. He tells himself he doesn't give a shit if Kirishima cheats
on him, but, he's at a loss for what to blame the shattering feeling in his
chest on.
He hears Kirishima's feet pad down the hallway to stop in front of his door.
Bakugou can feel him standing there, and he imagines him with his fist in the
air poised ready to knock, can practically hear him thinking too loud and hard
about how to make things right. He both wants and doesn't want him to explain
himself.
On the one hand he wants to know what the fuck was that but on the other hand
he can't figure what a satisfying answer to that question could be. It's either
that Kirishima is trying to cheat on Deku or they're just friends-with-
benefits, in which case Bakugou pities Deku because it's just too pathetic, too
disgusting that he would willingly be in a relationship like that. He knows
Deku, despite the years he spent trying to not think about him, he knows he's
the kind of guy that would want hand-holding and declarations of love and blind
devotion, he wouldn't want a cheap bond and a meaningless fuck.
But... neither would Kirishima.
Fuck, now his head hurts.
“Bakugou, are you listening?” Kirishima says through the door, voice muffled.
“Please open the door, I want to explain.”
He doesn't open it, but he goes and sits against it so he can hear better, and
lets his head hit the door when he leans back.
“Listen, okay? It's not what you think.” Bakugou imagines him swallowing,
taking a deep breath to gather his thoughts. “Midoriya and I are together,
but... but it's different if it's you. We've talked about it before.”
Bakugou puts his face in his hands. What the fuck does that mean?
“I don't know if you... if you feel the same way. And I'm sorry for kissing you
if that's not what you wanted. Maybe I'm bad at reading signs, but I thought –
look,” His voice drops an octave, and Bakugou has to press his ear against the
door to hear better. “I don't know what I was thinking, it's just so unfair,
how good you look sometimes, you know? Just please don't let this change
anything between us, okay? We're still friends, right?”
Bakugou snorts. “We were never friends.”
Kirishima laughs. “Yes we are, don't lie.” He sounds lighter now. “Hey,
remember when I said my door is always open for you? Well, I still mean it.
Absolutely anytime, anytime at all, no matter what you hear on the other side
of the wall, you can come over. Midoriya feels the same, too.”
“Why would I do that?”
There's silence on the other side for a moment before Kirishima speaks again.
“Just... if you felt lonely – not that you would, of course – or if you wanted
to see what we were up to. I-if you want to watch or j-join... there's more
than enough room for you.”
 
===============================================================================

It's late at night, pitch black in Bakugou's room. After listening to
Kirishima's headache-inducing confession earlier in the night, he tossed and
turned in his bed for what must have been an hour before falling into a light,
dreamless sleep. It's the sound of Kirishima's door closing around midnight
that awakes him, and as he rolls over, hugging his pillow, he realizes he needs
to piss.
“Shit.” He mumbles, dragging himself out of bed and to the small toilet and
sink attached to his dorm. When he finishes, he swallows against a dry throat,
and decides to go downstairs for a glass of water. He has to shield his eyes
when he steps out to the hallway, but by the time he returns, thirst quenched
and eager to go back to sleep, his eyes have adjusted to the lights.
So he sees Kirishima and Deku clearly, Deku twisting the door knob to
Kirishima's room, and his eyes flicker to where Kirishima has his arms looped
around Deku's waist and his chin resting on his shoulder.
“Hurry up,” Kirishima mumbles low against Deku's neck, pressing wet open-
mouthed kisses that smack loudly in the quiet hall. Bakugou is frozen on the
spot, unable to take another step into the hall, face on fire as he watches
Kirishima's hands grope a spot on Deku's torso that's far too low to be
anywhere but his groin.
Deku grins affectionately, shrugging his shoulder half-heartedly as if trying
to brush Kirishima off. “Oh my gosh, we just... Again, already?” His voice is
fondly exasperated, and it makes something tight and too hot coil in Bakugou's
gut and he thinks he might puke.
“I'm horny.” Kirishima says, and licks a stripe from shoulder to ear, the
collar of Deku's shirt stretched out to show the sharp jut of his collarbone.
“You're always horny.”
“What can I say, I'm a virile man with a healthy appetite, and your ass looked
so fine today in that jumpsuit.”
The words aren't that filthy, but they're filthier than anything Bakugou's ever
heard come out of Kirishima's mouth, and Bakugou is rock hard in a second. Deku
finally, mercifully, gets the door open and tumbles inside, pulling Kirishima
by the wrist behind him, and Bakugou thinks he's off the hook. At the last
second, however, Kirishima looks down the hallway and their eyes lock.
“Bakugou?”
He hovers in the threshold of his dorm room for a moment, the two of them
staring at each other and Bakugou unable to look away, until Kirishima enters
the rest of the way.
He doesn't close his door.
Heart hammering in his chest, feet jittery, knees weak, Bakugou forces himself
forward, rounding the corner and stopping in front of Kirishima's room to
glance inside. Any remaining traces of drowsiness are instantly wiped by what
he sees.
Kirishima is kneeling between Deku's spread bare legs on the bed, mass of damp
red hair bobbing up and down on his lap. Deku looks up, cheeks flushed a deep
red, teeth digging into his lip, scared eyes pleading with Bakugou please don't
be angry, this wasn't my idea.
But Bakugou's not angry, not in the slightest. His body burns all over, hairs
standing on end as sweat beads in the cracks of his palms, and he's torn
between stepping inside and going to his room and pretending he never saw any
of this. Kirishima makes the choice for him, popping off Deku's dick and
smiling at him.
“Do you wanna come in?” He asks, voice hopeful.
Taking care to keep his expression neutral, Bakugou steps inside, and he hides
from view the trembling of his hand when he closes the door. He can fucking do
this, whatever... this is. He wants it.
When he turns back around Kirishima's standing, taking his shirt off and damn
if Bakugou can't keep his eyes from trailing over every inch of toned muscle,
over every expanse of skin he'd never allowed himself to soak up until now.
Kirishima approaches him, tentatively placing a hand on the exposed skin of
Bakugou's shoulder, his palm almost cool compared to his own hot flesh. His
skin pebbles at the contact, and Kirishima's voice is like soft cotton to his
ears, familiar and comforting.
“Can I kiss you?”
Bakugou glances down to his lips, the ones that were just stretched around
Deku's girth, and looks away, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Who asks to kiss
someone?” He says flippantly, and he settles his gaze on Deku who's still
watching them from the bed, erection still erect and shiny with spit. There
isn't anywhere safe to look, and Kirishima's warm breath fans across his face,
voice closer than it was a second before.
“Well, I think I came on too strong last time. Wanted to be sure, this time.”
He sucks in a breath, meeting Kirishima's eyes despite the buzzing in his ears,
despite the alarm bells going off all over his skin just from that little bit
of contact. “If you want to kiss me, then just fucking do it.” He says, even
though he's not sure it won't destroy him.
The first touch of Kirishima's mouth is enough to make him addicted. It's hot
and slick, tastes fresh with a hint of Deku's musk underneath, and the
sensation has Bakugou's nerve-endings fraying out of control, has the rest of
him fraying out of control. He grabs Kirishima by his soft hair and deepens the
kiss, slots their lips and tongues together perfectly, pets his insides as
Kirishima licks into him. He's never kissed anyone before, and now he's
wondering why he never tried until now.
It's sloppy and unrefined, he can feel their combined saliva smearing around
his lips and getting on his cheeks and chin, but it's doing something else to
him that he's never felt before. Like the adrenaline from a fight, but
simmering with something much more pleasant, something that makes him ache all
over with want rather than the desire to hurt.
He wonders again what it would be like to make someone feel good.
Hands cup his face and he thinks it's Kirishima until they're turning his face
to his right, and he opens his eyes long enough to see Deku looking up at him –
Deku, with his stupid adorable freckles and big honest eyes and soft, pouty,
kissable lips – with astonishment, like Bakugou is the single most wonderful
person on the planet.
And Bakugou kisses him, then, scrunches up his face because it hurts too much
and feels too good all at once and he doesn't know what to do with all of this.
He mashes their lips together, bruises Deku's delicate mouth beneath his, grins
against him when he feels him wince and give a soft cry. He doesn't really want
to hurt him anymore, but he can't stand looking at him, either. The pain is
familiar and he clings to it through the kiss. He's sure his lips will be
swollen and sore the next day but he's looking forward to it – like the wounds
he carried on his body after his fight with Deku, it'll remind him that it was
real.
Someone – Kirishima, probably – pushes him back and onto the bed, separating
him from Deku, and then Bakugou's looking up at the two objects of his desire.
A fever dream come true, and as if to drive the point home they both kneel in
front of him, Deku tugging on the waistband of his sleep shorts as Kirishima
speaks.
“We've wanted you like this for so long...” His tone has a dreamy quality to it
as his hands and eyes drag themselves up Bakugou's chest, pushing his tank top
up to bunch around his armpits. “Can we? Have you like this?” He asks, and
Bakugou's at a loss for words, mouth suddenly dry again.
He tries to sound confident but his voice comes out in a croak, “Do whatever
you want.”
Kirishima smiles at him, and together with Deku they pull his shorts down and
off. Bakugou tugs his tank top off the rest of the way, leaving himself naked
before them. He feels oddly vulnerable exposed like this, so tells them, “Lose
the shorts and shirt.”
Deku pulls his shirt off as Kirishima quickly stands and takes off his shorts.
Bakugou tries not to stare for a split second before giving up, and he then
catalogues their entire bodies, from the difference in musculature to the size
and color of their cocks, both hard and dribbling precum from the tips.
They want him.
Bakugou's head swims as he looks down at his own hard-on. What are they
supposed to do now?
Kirishima and Deku apparently have a plan, because they kneel once more and
with hesitant movements, take Bakugou's dick between their fists. He hisses,
jerking his hips up. It's different, better somehow than when he touches
himself and he shuts his eyes against the feeling, only for them to fly open
again a moment later when he feels wet heat lap the tip.
Kirishima's tongue is circling the head, drawing shaky breaths from Bakugou,
and it's not until Deku joins in and runs his tongue from base to tip that he
loses control again, and a low long moan is ripped from his throat.
“Oh, fuck,” He sighs, and watches as their tongues lick him up and down. Drool
drips down Kirishima's chin and his teeth glint in the lamp light, Deku
lovingly places open-mouthed kisses along his shaft, and all the while
Bakugou's voice grows higher and higher in pitch and volume, until he's so
embarrassed by it he stuffs his fist in his mouth to muffle himself.
Deku pulls away to watch Kirishima blow, head bobbing and wet heat encasing
Bakugou's length. Through lidded eyes he sees Deku lick and bite his lips, his
arm move as he fondles himself.
“Suck him,” Deku whispers, and fuck if his wanton tone doesn't make Bakugou
want to shoot his load immediately, “Suck Kacchan's pretty dick.” Kirishima
moans around him, the vibrations make Bakugou's toes curl. “He tastes good,
doesn't he. Just like we imagined.”
Bakugou shuts his eyes at this, body and mind caught in a maze of pleasure so
great he can't parse words, but then Kirishima pops off, and he opens his eyes
again to see Kirishima pressing a hand to the back Deku's head. He pushes
Deku's open mouth onto Bakugou's cock and swallows him whole.
“See for yourself,” Kirishima says with a twinkle in his eye, and Deku
immediately sets a fervent pace, bringing a hand up to stroke the base where he
can't reach with his mouth. “Take him all the way like I know you can.”
Kirishima's hand presses harder and Bakugou can feel the back of Deku's throat
now. “There you go,” He coos, and the throat hugging Bakugou's shaft tightens
and squeezes, and Kirishima's planting a gentle kiss against Deku's forehead.
“Fuck, Midoriya, choke on his cock for me,” His eyes flash to Bakugou's, “He
likes when it hurts a little, so you can be rough with him if you want.”
And Bakugou comes. A ripple from head-to-toe, muscles clenching, fist
tightening in curly hair, balls drawing up and back arching off the bed,
growling incoherent words, Bakugou empties his load down Deku's throat. He
collapses on the bed, feeling boneless and drained. Kirishima runs fingers
across his thigh, muttering soothing words – to him or to Deku, he's not sure
and doesn't have the brainpower to figure it out – while Deku retracts his warm
mouth, sending another shiver down Bakugou's spine.
He spends several moments catching his breath, hearing soft wet smacks and
moans coming from Kirishima and Deku. When he sits back up, leaning on his
elbows, they're making out, hands grasping and clinging onto one another,
tongues massaging each other. Bakugou feels his face heat up at the intimate
display, feeling like he's peeking into a private moment, but then he notices
them passing a thick pearly fluid between their tongues. His breath hitches,
watching as they messily pass his come back and forth, moaning in tandem like
they can't get enough of it.
Deku notices him then, and breaks off the kiss, leaving Kirishima with the
honors of swallowing.
“How was it, Kacchan? Did I make you feel good?”
His flagging length twitches at the question, recalling just how good Deku's
mouth felt wrapped around him. How good Kirishima looked drooling over his
dick. “It... wasn't terrible.”
The two boys smile at that and smile at each other, like they're reveling in
good news together. Bakugou's not sure how to feel about that. A day ago he
would have never imagined something like this happening. Not kissing Kirishima,
not kissing Deku, not having the both of them suck him off and look at him so
reverently. Despite the lethargy from orgasm seeping through his bones, he
feels his nerves start to bounce again, and he wants to cover up or leave, do
something other than stand there stripped bare before these two boys who want
to see all of his insides.
“What now?” He asks. His body reminds him it's nearly 1am but he's pretty sure
reciprocating is usually done in these circumstances, and both Kirishima and
Deku both still have erections.
“You can stay and watch us if you want.” Deku is quick to answer, and Kirishima
grins his agreement.
“Yeah, and if you feel up to joining us again we would love it if you did.”
Kirishima moves to hide his face in Deku's neck, nipping gently at the juncture
there, before saying coyly, “Midoriya already loosened me up in the shower, so
if you wanted to, you could fuck me.”
“Loosened you?” Bakugou mumbles, and feels a fresh wave of arousal throb
through his sensitive groin.
Kirishima bites his lips. “Yeah. Or you can fuck Midoriya. You can watch me
prep him.”
At Bakugou's questioning look, Kirishima grabs Deku by the waist and maneuvers
him so he's on his hands and knees with his ass facing Bakugou, and then
reaches over into a desk drawer to grab something.
Bakugou can see everything from his position, how Deku's pink hole twitches
when Kirishima dribbles some kind of lubricant down his crack, how his balls
and cock hang heavily between his legs, how Kirishima's index finger disappears
into his asshole easily and with no resistance. Kirishima fingers him, keeping
his body to the side so as to not distort Bakugou's view, and uses his other
hand to hold Deku's ass cheeks apart. He quickly adds a second finger, twisting
and turning the digits, his brows furrowed in concentration. His movements seem
to slow as if searching for something, and then Deku drops his head down and
lets out an obscene moan.
Kirishima works his fingers in the same manner for another beat, before
removing them until just the tips remain in. He then spreads them, stretching
the hole out a little so Bakugou can see a hint of the pink inside, and then
promptly bends over and flicks his tongue across it. Bakugou watches as the tip
of his tongue plunges in once, twice, three times to the tune of Deku's wails,
the other boy rocking his hips back into it and curling his hands into fists by
his head. Kirishima's eyes are locked on Bakugou's and he's mesmerized, the
lewd act both disgusting him in its uncleanliness and making his cock fill up
so quickly he feels lightheaded. He wonders what that feels like.
Kirishima gives a final lick up Deku's taint before lifting his head back up.
“He's ready now if you want him. Right?” He asks Deku, tilting his head to meet
the other boy's eyes.
Deku nods, voice quivering. “Ready.”
But Bakugou's mind is elsewhere, and he's too curious not to ask, even though
he'll look like a stupid virgin. “Does that really feel good?”
“Getting eaten out?” Deku sits back on his haunches, turning to face the other
two boys once more.
Bakugou blushes. “No, the ass stuff.”
“Yeah,” Kirishima answers, “There's a sweet spot in there that feels really
good when it's played with, and if you relax into it, you feel... full.” A
visible shiver runs down Kirishima's spine. “You have to relax though, so I
don't know if it's for you.”
Bakugou bristles, hunching his shoulders. “I can relax.”
Kirishima huffs a laugh and gives him a look. “Dude, you're tense as hell. Just
having your dick sucked you looked like you wanted to blow something up.”
“That's just Kacchan's face.” Deku supplies in a quiet, teasing voice.
“Fuck the both of you!” He snarls then, sitting up. “I can relax. Kirishima,
finger me.”
Kirishima blinks at him, mouth agape, before quickly fumbling with the cap on
the lube bottle and drowning his fingers with the contents. Bakugou scoots
forward until his ass hangs off the bed, spreading and pulling his legs up. His
face burns with embarrassment – he's been naked in the locker room and the hot
springs in front of others before, but never has he been so exposed as this.
But he's committed now.
“You sure?” Kirishima asks, but still brings his hand to Bakugou's ass anyway.
A single finger prods at his entrance gently, swirling around the rim. It
tickles, and instinctively Bakugou jerks his hips away before regaining
control. Kirishima glances up at him as though to make sure he's okay, then
pokes at it again, increasing the pressure slightly from last time.
“Three fingers.” Bakugou says in a tone that brooks no argument, and Deku's
eyes widen.
“Kacchan, you should start with only one and then-”
“If you can take two then I can take three.”
Kirishima and Deku share a look, Deku mumbling under his breath, “Not
everything has to be a competition...” But Bakugou ignores the quip, instead
focusing on the now-three fingers Kirishima's lining up with his hole, shooting
him worried looks.
“Okay, here goes. Remember, relax.”
It hurts.
The stretch is too much, and Bakugou doesn't relax at first, nerves strung way
too tight by all the new sensations and feelings, by the pair of eyes eating up
his every move, that all he can do is grip the sheets and clench his teeth
against it. The fingers inside him, once past the tight ring, still then, and
give him a chance to catch his breath. He keeps his eyes shut, feeling soothing
hands rub up and down his thighs, whisper to him to let go, to trust us.
Tears prick at his eyes and Bakugou's grateful their closed, overwhelmed by the
knowledge that Kirishima is inside of him, is inside his body, is feeling a
part of him no one else has ever felt. And judging by the shaky breaths and
awed repetition of his name pouring from the other boy's mouth, Kirishima is
overwhelmed by it, too.
Eventually Bakugou does relax, feels the fingers slowly work their way in
deeper, feels the lubricant make the path slick and smooth and easy. When
they're as far in as they'll go, Bakugou can feel them twisting around before a
spark or a jolt or fucking something makes his back curve and a gasp fall from
his lips.
“There it is.” Kirishima says, and before Bakugou can get his bearings back
he's pumping the fingers in and out steadily. They go in easily now, Bakugou
surprised to find his legs like jelly when he lets them fall apart even more.
“Do that again.” He doesn't beg.
“Thought you were gonna top one of us.” Kirishima says. “If I keep touching you
there, you'll come again.”
“He looks really sensitive, doesn't he?” Deku says to Kirishima, who nods.
“Should I test it out? But if he comes again, he might be done for the night.”
“I bet he has an amazing rebound rate.”
Kirishima smiles fondly. “You're right; he probably does.”
“Can you fuckers just shut up and finger me?” Bakugou interrupts. “Or better
yet, someone fuck me. This feels fucking amazing, I want more. Your shitty
fingers aren't enough.”
“Are you sure?” Kirishima asks, wide-eyed.
He's not sure, but fuck he can't change his mind now. Grabbing Kirishima by the
wrist, he reluctantly rips his fingers out of his hole and leans forward to
capture his mouth in a searing kiss just to prove his point. His asshole feels
achingly empty now and by reflex it tightens, clenching around nothing and he
whines into Kirishima's mouth, cursing his damn pride.
Bakugou hears shuffling beside him, the soft squelch of damp skin on skin, and
he pulls away to glare at Deku who's slowly jerking himself off to the scene of
them kissing.
“What do you think you're doing?” He says, eyes flickering down to his cock
where the tip shines with precum. Deku recoils at his tone, halting the
movement of his fist.
“I was – I thought-?” He points towards Kirishima.
Shaking his head, Bakugou speaks through the blush burning up his face. “No.
You're gonna fuck me, Deku.”
Deku's entire face goes red, his mouth stuttering around silent words before
nodding all jittery and excited.
“What do you want me to do?” Kirishima asks, and the two boys look to Bakugou,
blinking owlishly.
This is good. This is better with them looking to Bakugou for direction, with
him feeling in control. He feels more in his element now, even though logically
he knows they have miles of experience on him in this department, that they
could wreck his shit if they wanted to.
But, fuck, that just makes him harder.
He switches over to Deku, grabbing him by the shoulders and kissing him
roughly. He tugs him back, pulls him until he's laying on the bed and Deku is
on top of him. He fights the urge to moan every time their bodies brush against
each other and when he feels Deku's cock press against his stomach as he climbs
atop him. Bakugou spreads his legs, bringing them on either side of Deku's
waist. He tries not to shake, but his body is still reeling with the memory how
it felt to have his ass stuffed full of fingers.
Bakugou can't wait to see how much better a cock will feel.
Kirishima still seated behind them, speaks up. “I have an idea, guys.”
Deku sits up, they look at Kirishima. “Here, Midoriya, sit with your back
against the wall, and Bakugou why don't you um, you can sit on him, back-to-
chest. And I can suck you off while you ride him?”
Bakugou doesn't need to think it over long.
“Fuck. Okay.”
They do as directed, with Deku scooting to sit against the wall and Bakugou
climbing in his lap. The tip of Deku's dick slides between his slick ass cheeks
and Bakugou grinds down on it, tilting his head so his mouth brushes against
the shell of Deku's ear.
Watching Kirishima get on the bed after them to settle between their legs,
Bakugou quickly whispers in his ear, low enough so only Deku can hear: “You
better make this good.” He hears a breath sucked between teeth, and grabbing
Deku's lubed cock, he lines it up with his hole and bears down.
They cry out in unison when the head breeches Bakugou's tight hole, and the
burn is more than Bakugou was prepared for. But when his eyes lock on
Kirishima, who's squeezing the base of his dick with half-lidded eyes, and when
he feels Deku's hand clutch at his hips bruising hard, he ignores the burn and
rolls his shoulders back, sinking down the rest of the way.
He's so full, so fucking full. It feels strange but yet, so hot. With his head
resting on Deku's shoulder, the other boy begins to rock his hips up, fucking
into him in a gentle but unrelenting pace, his strong scarred hands coming to
hold Bakugou's legs apart, showing off everything to Kirishima. Bakugou whines
pathetically and his legs twitch with the desire to shut them, to close himself
off again, but he feels sapped. The slow drag of cock in and out of his ass,
scraping over that spot inside him, feels way too good for him to move.
“Go faster, shithead.” He groans out, and is embarrassed by how desperate he
sounds already. Deku's only answer are his fingers squeezing tighter, his teeth
scraping along Bakugou's neck. It's not enough, but that suggestion of pain
sets heat bubbling in his gut.
Kirishima leans forward with his belly on the bed and licks a stripe up
Bakugou's dick as it flops about, and his tongue trails patterns down across
his balls and taint to circle around his pulled-tight rim.
“Bakugou,” He pants, looking completely fucked out despite being the one only
watching. Bakugou wonders what he must look like right now. “Bakugou you look
so good, so perfect.”
Deku's still going slow, thrusting into him deep, spreading his legs open and
digging his fingers into the meat of his thighs, lips working over Bakugou's
ear, moaning softly into the crook of his neck. He's not going fast enough;
Bakugou can feel everything this way, every inch of him unfurling for the both
of them to see. This isn't how this is supposed to go. He's supposed to be
fucked fast and harsh to where he can't even think, he's not supposed to be
treated tenderly.
He isn't supposed to feel like this.
He isn't supposed to feel things.
Sweat drips down Bakugou's temple, he can't concentrate on anything for too
long. His body is alight, burning and tingling all over, his chest painfully
constricted. Deku kisses his cheek, murmurs as he fucks into him.
“You're amazing, Kacchan, you feel so good. I've wanted you so bad, for so
long.” His voice trembles; he must be on the verge of crying.
Kirishima appears before him, having sat up, and leans forward so the lengths
of their bodies rub together. He kisses Bakugou short and sweet, wraps a hand
around both of their cocks and starts to pump them together, matching the pace
of Deku's thrusts.
“How can you... how can you say that shit?” Bakugou croaks out, and with horror
he realizes the wetness he felt trailing down his face wasn't sweat but tears.
Kirishima's and Deku's thumbs swipe them away, curl around his cheeks and jaw
tenderly, pepper kisses all over his face.
“Because it's true.” Deku says.
“You're perfect to us.” Kirishima adds, and it's too much.
Bakugou comes, crying out and slurring a jumble of Kirishima and Deku's names,
arms wrapping around Kirishima to ground himself. He splatters across his abs,
hot and sticky and the multiple hands all around him seem to increase their
pressure all at once. As though watching him come undone was the most arousing
thing they've ever seen, both Kirishima and Deku start to pant harder, fuck
their cocks against him rougher, faster.
It was what he wanted before, but now it's overwhelming. He can't stop the
tears from leaking, feeling like a weakling surrounded by these two, whose
affection and tenderness he doesn't deserve.
Kirishima is the next to go, adding to the mess on Bakugou's stomach, his
breath hot against Bakugou's neck where his forehead presses. Deku starts to
fuck his ass with erratic, jerky motions, signaling the approach of his end.
He's still hitting that sensitive spot inside him and Bakugou can't help but
moan like a whore each time, his body now completely out of his control.
“Can I come inside you, Kacchan?”
Bakugou chews his lip, his threat coming out in a whimper: “You better.”
Warmth floods his insides. He's pressed between two bodies, searing his flesh.
It's too much, he's too full, he's too sensitive.
“I love you.”
He opens his weary eyes, wetness drips onto his neck. He hears Deku sniffle
behind him.
“I love you so, so much. So much.”
Deku's crying. Kirishima has tears in his eyes, cupping Bakugou's face in both
hands, kissing him tenderly in the corner of his lips.
“We love you.”
 
===============================================================================

Bakugou wakes to a dim room, the light filtering in from under the curtain and
through the crack in the door giving shape to his surroundings.
He's in Kirishima's room, in his bed. On his left side Deku is draped against
him, with his arm across his chest and leg hooked around his own. His face is
buried in Bakugou's shoulder, and the blankets are pulled around them. To his
right side Kirishima lays limb-splayed on the floor, snoring softly. He's taken
one of the pillows with him, but he's otherwise naked and uncovered. In fact,
when Bakugou lifts the blanket, he notes they're all still naked.
He was so drowsy by the end of it he only has a vague recollection of Kirishima
wiping him clean, of the three of them sandwiching him in the bed, of slow,
lazy kisses and touches as he faded into well-deserved sleep.
But what do they do now? Was this a one-time thing?
Would it go back to Kirishima and Deku together, with Bakugou on the outside
alone?
Kirishima stirs, blinks, and sits up. He makes eye contact with Bakugou.
“Morning.” He smiles and blushes, pulling a leg up to hide his crotch in
modesty.
“You fell off?” Bakugou says, voice scratchy.
“Guess so. These beds are pretty small for three dudes.”
Bakugou pushes Deku against the wall and squeezes in next to him, creating a
narrow space beside him that he pats with his palm. “You look cold.” He says as
way of explanation, but his cheeks still warm because he knows that what they
both want is to cuddle.
“Thanks, man.” Kirishima says, grinning, and slips in next to him. Bakugou
wraps the blankets over him as well, and Deku groans.
“Kacchan, you're squishing me...”
“I'm making room for Kirishima. Or do you want him to fucking freeze?”
“Mmm, these beds are too small.” Deku mumbles, voice still thick and slurred
from sleep.
Kirishima hums. “That's what I was saying.”
“Maybe we can come up with a schedule for Sundays. Like take turns sleeping in
pairs.”
Bakugou blinks. “What the fuck are you muttering about, Deku?”
He feels both bodies stiffen, and it's then he realizes they intend to have
repeats of last night. But weren't they dating each other?
“You want to keep doing... this?” Bakugou asks, not sure how to phrase it. He'd
be lying to himself if he didn't admit last night was amazing, the most
physical pleasure he's ever felt. But he had stepped into the room last night
thinking that was it.
“I mean,” Kirishima begins, sounding uncertain, “only if you want to. Like I
told you before, Midoriya and I have already discussed this. We both want you.”
His hand trails feather-light up and down Bakugou's chest, making him shiver.
“One night's not enough for us.” Deku says then. “But if you don't want to be
with us, we'll accept that.”
Bakugou groans, bringing a hand to wipe down his face in frustration. “But
isn't this whole thing fucked? Three of us... that's not-” They both look at
him. “-that's not how this shit works.”
“What do you mean?” Kirishima asks.
“Relationships! It's called 'a couple' not – not 'a triple' or fucking
whatever.”
“Are you seriously getting hung up on terminology?”
Bakugou frowns and flicks the crease between Kirishima's brow, who flinches
away. “Hey!” He complains and rubs at the spot even though Bakugou knows he
didn't feel it. “Be nice to me, I sucked your dick!”
“Think about it?” Deku says quietly, drawing their attention back to the
matter. When Bakugou glances between them, they're both giving him that same,
hopeful look from last night. He remembers the words they said then; at the
time, he wasn't sure who spoke them, but remembers hearing it in both of their
voices.
They love him.
He nods once. “Okay. I'll think about it.”

===============================================================================

He doesn't give them an answer for three days.
Not to string them along, but because he truly didn't know if he could do it.
Being in a relationship with one person sounded exhausting enough, but two?
Plus he struggled with what everyone else would think; many in their class had
already begun to piece together that Deku and Kirishima were in a relationship,
what would they say when they find out Bakugou is in it, too? Pretty quickly,
though, he realized he didn't give enough of a shit what the others thought.
What matters is what he thinks, and what Kirishima and Deku think. And they
want him.
He doesn't hear them make love in Kirishima's room during that time, but on the
night of the third day he catches the pair in the hallway, hands linked
loosely. When they spot him, Kirishima pulls his hand away quickly. Deku meets
his gaze, his own inquisitive, but neither say anything.
A moment passes, the three of them standing in the hallway, frozen still. Then
the ice shatters, Bakugou surging forward to pin them against the wall, lips
crashing with Kirishima's, hand holding Deku sliding up to thread through his
curls and tug him closer.
He's learned what it's like to make someone feel good, and he doesn't want to
go back.
End Notes
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