Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12641226.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      僕のヒーローアカデミア_|_Boku_no_Hero_Academia_|_My_Hero_Academia
  Relationship:
      Bakugou_Katsuki/Midoriya_Izuku
  Character:
      Bakugou_Katsuki, Midoriya_Izuku, Kirishima_Eijirou
  Additional Tags:
      Male_Lactation, Lactation_Kink, Implied/Referenced_Dubious_Consent,
      Underage_Sex, Frottage
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-11-07 Words: 6698
****** wring me out ******
by xenodickery
Summary
     Bakugou's sexual awakening came suddenly. Unexpected. Unwanted. It
     came bursting out at him like a jack in the box and refused to be put
     back.
Notes
     once i read a stucky fic where the super soldier serum made steve
     start lactating and it made my year
      
     the dubious consent is pretty minor and over quick just be aware i
     guess
See the end of the work for more notes
Bakugou's sexual awakening came suddenly. Unexpected. Unwanted. It came
bursting out at him like a jack in the box and refused to be put back.
It was lunchtime. A Thursday. Nothing unusual about it.
Bakugou had finished eating and was sitting low in his chair, only half
listening while Kirishima and Kaminari argued about something stupid they’d
seen on TV. Bakugou wasn’t really listening. He was too busy staring at Deku.
Not a thing he did often, but Deku was acting weird. Even weirder than usual.
He was sitting apart from his friends, not that Bakugou cared. Maybe they’d had
some stupid falling out but that was their problem. Didn’t really explain why
Deku was so red-faced and shifty, or the way he kept glancing around like he
was waiting to be told off. What was perfect stupid Deku so worried about? As
he watched, Deku lifted his glass to drink some water but he must have spilled
some, because as he reached over to replace the glass Bakugou noticed that
there were wet patches on the front of his shirt, turning the thin fabric
translucent.
“Moron,” Bakugou muttered under his breath. He got up from his seat, grabbing
his lunch tray in one hand.
“Hey, Bakugou,” Kirishima called out. “Who would win—”
“I don’t give a shit,” Bakugou snarled, turning away. “Why don’t you morons do
some studying instead of arguing about this shit?”
Kirishima cackled, and Kaminari snorted. “One, rude,” Kaminari said brightly.
“Second -”
“Second, I’m busy,” Bakugou said, turning his back on them.
They called out after him, but Bakugou ignored their shouts and marched over to
Deku’s table. He slammed the tray down, interrupting Deku’s unenthusiastic
greeting.
“Oi, shitty Deku,” he growled. “The fuck is wrong with you?”
Deku flinched. “Um, w-what do you mean, Kacchan?”
Bakugou reached out and grabbed the front of Deku’s shirt, twisting the wet
fabric in his hand before releasing him again. “Ask your mom to buy you a sippy
cup. You’re an embarrassment.”
Deku’s nose wrinkled in confusion - gross - and then he looked down at himself
with dawning horror. “Oh no,” he whispered.
“Get your fucking shit together,” Bakugou growled, picking up his tray again.
“You make the rest of us real heroes look bad.”
Deku didn’t respond. He jumped to his feet and abandoned the rest of his lunch
where it was, pushing past Bakugou as he hurried out of the cafeteria. Bakugou
cursed after him, but Deku didn’t seem to notice, the asshole.
“Whatever,” Bakugou muttered, scowling after him.
***
It wasn't hard to notice after that, or more like he couldn't seem to stop
noticing. It wasn’t all the time, but some days Deku just looked like he was up
to no good, which was kinda hard to ignore coming from a shitty little goody
two shoes like Deku. He always seemed to be running off somewhere at awkward
moments, or acting suspicious in class, or when they had training.
There was one day when they were practicing hand to hand combat and Aizawa-
sensei paired him with Deku again - probably some kind of sick joke at
Bakugou’s expense. Bakugou mostly kept it clean, because Aizawa-sensei was
watching closely and he was already on a warning for some stupid disagreement
with that purple-headed prick in the baby class, but when Deku left himself
wide open Bakugou struck without thinking, punching him solidly in the chest.
Deku crumpled to the floor, crying out in pain.
“The fuck?” Bakugou hissed, straightening up. He gave Deku a kick in the shin.
“Get the fuck up, you stupid baby.”
“Hey!” Aizawa-sensei called out, not sounding particularly interested. “What’s
going on over there?”
“Deku,” Bakugou growled, leaning down. “Get on your fucking feet.”
“Bakugou!” Aizawa yelled.
Bakugou turned away, rolling his eyes. In the corner of his eye he watched Deku
get to his feet, teeth gritted. He looked fine, just red-eyed because no doubt
he’d been crying like the fucking baby he was. Bakugou huffed impatiently,
listening to Deku mumble excuses to Aizawa-sensei, some bullshit about not
feeling well and how it ‘wasn’t Kacchan’s fault’, blah blah.
“Shut up already, moron,” Bakugou snapped when it was over and pushed past him,
making sure to barge Deku hard with his shoulder.
The front of Deku’s shirt was wet again. So he really had been crying. What a
wimp.
***
It was a few weeks later that he noticed Deku feeling himself up in class. He
was obviously trying to be subtle, but the way he kept rubbing and squeezing
his pathetic little pecs and grunting softly was anything but subtle.
"Deku," Bakugou hissed over his shoulder. "Stop groping yourself, bastard."
Deku didn't respond, but the noises stopped immediately.
When class ended, Deku skipped out without waiting for his idiot friends, not
even bothering to answer when they called after him. Scowling, Bakugou shoved
Sero aside and went after him. He didn't give a shit what Deku did, but the way
he was acting was suspicious as hell. But Deku was nowhere to be seen, and
Bakugou stalked along the hallway inspecting every room - to the surprise of
most of the rooms’ inhabitants - before giving up the chase.
“Stupid Deku,” Bakugou muttered, turning and aiming a kick at the nearest wall.
His foot left a small imprint, and some plaster crumbled onto the floor.
“Shit.”
***
Several nights later Bakugou woke up around 2AM with an urgent need to piss.
Swearing under his breath, he threw off his sheets and stomped down the hallway
to the bathroom. The dorms were eerie at night, but he scowled at the darkness,
confident that he could be scarier than anything that might have chosen to lurk
in the shadows.
The lights were on when he reached the bathroom. Bakugou took a piss, trying to
force it out faster so he could get back to bed and make the most of his rest.
It wasn't until he tucked himself back in his underwear and turned to wash his
hands that he realised he wasn't alone.
It was the faintest sound, but it set his hair on end, a shiver rippling over
the back of his neck. Bakugou widened his stance and cast a suspicious glance
around the room. The toilet stalls were all on hinges so that they swung closed
when they weren't in use. Someone could be hiding in any one of them.
After making sure that nobody was hiding in plain sight, he dropped to his
knees and swept his gaze along the row of stalls. Nothing.
"Whoever the fuck that is better come out right now," he snarled, jumping to
his feet again. "I'm not in the mood for this shit."
There was no reply, but when Bakugou fell silent he could hear distinctly the
sound of someone breathing.
"Motherfucker," he hissed, going to the nearest stall and slamming his fist
against it. The door banged open and shuddered when it bounced off the inside
wall of the stall. Nearby, someone let out a pathetic little squeak.
Bakugou swore again. "Is that you, Deku, you little shitstain?" He paced along
the row of stalls, punching them open one by one. "The fuck are you doing?
Spying on people again, you shitty little creep?"
He hesitated before the last stall. All the previous ones had been empty, but
he knew he'd heard someone. He braced himself, just in case it wasn't Deku on
the other side, and then he lashed out with his foot, kicking the door hard
enough to leave a small dent halfway up.
Deku sat on the other side. He was sitting on the toilet with the seat down,
his knees pulled up to hide himself from view.
"I fuckin' knew it," Bakugou spat, scowling at him. "You're a little pervert as
well as a loser, the fuck--" His voice trailed off when his eyes fell to Deku's
chest and saw what was there.
Deku had filled out a lot in the past six months. Bakugou still didn't really
get it, but where other boys in their middle school class had held a grudging
admiration for the way Deku had gotten himself in shape last year despite still
being a snivelling little maggot, Bakugou only hated him more the harder he
tried. But his body was different, that was obvious even in his baggy t-shirts
and torn jeans. So it was even harder to miss to find him sitting in his
underwear, thick thighs tensed to hold himself up and his thick arms braced
against the sides of the stall.
One of the differences was that where he'd been skinny and weak he had muscle.
A lot of it. It's not like Bakugou was looking but Deku's new pecs were kinda
hard to miss.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Bakugou snarled, staring at the weird airhorn-
like contraption Deku was holding to his chest.
"Kacchan," Deku said in a shaky voice. "Go away."
Bakugou leaned forward, resting his weight against the stall door. "Are you -
what the fuck is that?"
"Get out, Kacchan," Deku said, louder, his voice wavering.
"Is that -" Bakugou squinted. It wasn’t an airhorn. It was the right sort of
shape but instead of a gas canister it had a clear bottle attached, with one or
two centimeters of white fluid in the bottom. Bakugou stared. "Are you fucking
milking yourself?"
Deku was so red he was almost purple. He got to his feet suddenly, yanking the
thing--the pump?--away from his chest and standing up to his full, pathetic
height. His nipple was red and swollen where he'd pulled the thing away,
shining in florescent light overhead. A dribble of fluid ran down his chest.
While Bakugou still stood staring, Deku grabbed the door and slammed it shut
between them. Bakugou only just moved in time to avoid getting smacked in the
face.
"Go. Away," Deku said again, and this time his voice sounded angry. "And don't
tell anyone. Please, Kacchan."
“Whatever,” Bakugou muttered, turning away. He went back to his room, not
because Deku had told him to but because he didn’t fancy standing around
freezing his balls off anymore in the empty hallways.
But when he got back into bed all he could think about was what he’d seen when
he slammed that stall door open. Not Deku cowering in fear - that was a sight
he was only too used to and he was bored of it - but Deku’s raw, swollen
nipples, the creamy white fluid in the bottle, the way the swell of his pecs
had looked rounder, more like tits.
Cursing loudly, Bakugou kicked off his covers again and palmed himself through
his underwear. The air in his room was stifling, and he was sweating despite
the faint breeze coming in through his open window. No wonder he was feeling
horny. It had nothing to do with Deku.
Growling, Bakugou shoved the thought out of his head and wrestled his underwear
down. His dick was already straining and desperate. Bakugou grabbed the lotion
off his nightstand and squeezed some in his hand before grabbing his dick
tightly. He let out a huff, half in frustration and half relief. It felt good -
so good - but he couldn’t get the image of Deku out of his head. Deku and his
thick thighs and his muscular shoulders and those round little tits, dribbling
down his chest -
Bakugou came with a shout, shooting his load all the way up to his chin.
“Bastard,” he muttered when he’d caught his breath. “Fuckin - stupid - argh.”
He had to jerk off again before he could sleep.
***
Bakugou let himself notice after that.
Not because of that, he just wanted to know what the fuck Deku was up to. Did
he have some weird fixation? Did he want to be a girl? Bakugou couldn't
understand it, and what he couldn't understand made him angry.
"Bakugou."
He and Kirishima were studying in the common room. Deku sat a few tables away,
playing some dumb card game with his friends.
"Hey, Bakugou."
Deku looked normal. There were no suspicious stains on the front of his
sweater, and his tits - his pecs - didn't look any bigger than normal. Bakugou
wondered if they felt different, or if they -
“Bakugou!” Kirishima shouted, reaching over and cuffing him on the shoulder.
“The fuck do you want, shitty hair?” Bakugou spat back. He scowled and hoped
Kirishima wouldn’t notice that he hadn’t been listening.
Kirishima grinned. He propped his chin in his hands and stared at Bakugou.
“Somethin on your mind?”
Bakugou glared. ”No.”
Kirishima’s smile widened, showing his shark-like teeth. “You sure about that?”
“I’m not playing your stupid game,” Bakugou said, getting up from the table.
Instantly Kirishima’s face fell. “Wait, what about chapter seven?”
“We’re done.”
“Nooo Bakugou,” Kirishima whined, diving after him. “You promised you’d help me
with chapter seven too!”
Bakugou growled at him. “Then stop fucking asking me who I’m thinking about.”
For a split second Kirishima reeled back in surprise, and then the shark-like
smile was back, bigger than ever. “I didn’t say anything about it being a
person,” he said, his grin even more irritating than usual.
The enormity of his fuck up hit Bakugou like a ton of bricks. Kirishima would
never shut up about this now. He struggled to keep his expression neutral, but
just at the wrong moment Deku looked up from his game and their eyes met across
the room. In that moment Bakugou felt a kinship he’d never felt with Deku
before. They were both keeping a secret now.
Bakugou scowled at Deku, then pushed Kirishima out of the way. “Whatever,” he
said, trying to sound bored. “We can study in your room, it’s annoying out
here.”
“Okay!” Kirishima said cheerfully, bouncing over to his chair again. He grabbed
his books and loped along at Bakugou’s side. “So who d’you like? Someone in our
class? Ohh, is it Mina?”
“Fuck off.”
“Uraraka? She’s pretty cute, but Jirou’s kinda hot in like a manly way don’t
you think?”
Bakugou covered his face and groaned loudly, but Kirishima didn’t seem to get
the message because he kept on talking. For once Bakugou let him. It was the
only thing covering up the mess in his head that kept drawing his thoughts back
to Deku.
That night he had to jerk off three times before he was able to fall asleep
***
They’d been warned about the drills. UA wanted to make sure there was no chance
of villains catching their kids unaware again, and so there were the drills.
Like the practices they’d had in middle school for fires and earthquakes, this
was supposed to prepare them for villain attacks on the school.
And it was just Bakugou’s luck that he was stuck in detention with Deku when it
happened.
It was Deku’s fault. Bakugou had just been minding his own business walking to
class when Deku jumped out in front of him, gesturing like an idiot as he got
all caught up in telling his friends some stupid story. Long story short,
Bakugou got a stray fist to the face, and Deku got a very deliberate one in
return, and just as it was getting good Aizawa-sensei caught them wrestling
against the wall and slapped them both with detention.
Asshole.
“I’m really sorry about before, Kacchan -”
“Shut up.”
Deku’s face screwed up in that annoying way he had when he was having a
feeling. “It really was an accident, I was just -”
“In the fucking way, as usual,” Bakugou finished for him, before turning around
in his seat, his back to Deku. “Shut the fuck up, Deku.”
Deku sighed. “Kacchan -”
Whatever he was going to say, Bakugou was saved from having to listen to it.
The alarm sounded first, a loud, piercing sound that made them wince, and then
the doors and windows began to seal themselves.
“No, no,” Deku said in a panicked voice as he jumped up out of his seat.
Bakugou glanced at him and scoffed. “It’s a drill, shit-for-brains. The real
alarm sounds different.”
“I know that,” Deku snapped at him. “But I can’t get stuck in here right now.”
He went to the door, but it had already sealed by the time he reached out. Deku
made a frustrated sound and slammed his fist against the door, but it didn’t
even leave a dent.
“Scared to be alone with me?” Bakugou sneered, tilting his chair back on two
legs. “You should be.”
Deku didn’t even turn around. “Of course not,” he said dismissively.
The legs of Bakugou’s chair hit the floor with a screech. “What.”
“Why would I be scared?” Deku asked, glancing over his shoulder. “You won’t
hurt me.”
Bakugou saw red. He got to his feet, shoving his chair and desk out of the way.
“You wanna fuckin bet?” he snarled, rolling up his left sleeve.
Deku sighed. Deku actually rolled his fucking eyes at him. Bakugou’s blood
boiled.
“You can hit me all you want, Kacchan,” Deku said, watching him with
infuriating calm. “I’ve had worse than anything you can do to me.”
“Motherfucker,” Bakugou yelled, before launching himself at Deku.
He didn’t look it but Deku was ready for him. He rolled with the punch when
Bakugou swung for him, using his weight against him to sidestep and get behind
him. Bakugou screamed in frustration and kicked out, sweeping Deku’s legs out
from under him before diving at him, kicking and tearing. He grabbed a handful
of Deku’s shirt and pulled hard, and felt it give and rip. Deku punched him,
splitting his lip. Bakugou tasted blood in his mouth, and he grinned in
response, looking down at Deku with a bloody grin.
“You think I can’t hurt you?” he snarled, seizing Deku’s wrists and shoving
them down against the ground. Deku struggled against him, bucking his hips
uselessly. Bakugou leaned closer. “How about I tell all your friends your
little secret?”
Deku stopped struggling, and the color drained from his face. “That’s not
funny.”
Bakugou threw his head back and laughed. “Okay, yeah, it really is.”
“Get off me.”
“Or what?” Bakugou said smugly. He ground Deku’s wrists down against the floor.
He was sweating, his skin sliding against Deku’s. Looking down, he could see
damp stains on the front of Deku's torn shirt, and he felt a thrill of victory
strike through him.
Suddenly Deku surged up against him, throwing him off so that Bakugou slammed
hard into a nearby desk, hitting his head against a chair.
“You little -” Bakugou snarled, scrambling to his feet. Deku did the same.
“What the fuck is your deal, you little creep?” he yelled, closing in on Deku.
Bakugou pushed him back against the classroom wall. “Are you a fucking girl? Is
that it? Lied about your quirk, lied about -”
“I didn’t lie!” Deku shouted, shocking Bakugou into silence. Looking surprised
at his own outburst Deku deflated, slumping against the wall. “I don’t even
know what it is,” he admitted quietly. “It started when I got my quirk.”
"It?"
Deku glared at him, and gestured to his chest. "This."
Bakugou winced in disgust. "So you finally get a quirk and you start leaking
like a cow. Classic Deku."
"Shut up, Kacchan," Deku said angrily, balling his hands into fists. "Just -
just shut up, you don't know what you're talking about -"
"Yeah," Bakugou said, leaning into him. He put his hands on the wall either
side of Deku's head. "But I do, don't I? I saw you."
Up close he could see the white around Deku's eyes as they widened, and smell
the sweat on him from their fight in the hallway and again on the floor of the
classroom. He couldn’t deny that he’d thought about this over the past few
weeks, each time he couldn’t sleep and found his thoughts drifting to Deku in
the bathroom, and his hand drifting to his cock. Being around Deku disgusted
him but set his blood boiling at the same time.
"What are you doing?" Deku whispered hoarsely.
Bakugou hissed through his teeth to silence him, and reached up to rest his
hand on Deku’s chest. “Is it part of your shitty quirk?”
“No,” Deku said, knocking his hand away. “Stop it.”
“Don’t be a bitch,” Bakugou snapped, bringing his other hand up only for Deku
to snatch it away. He struggled, but Deku’s grip on his wrists was like steel.
“Deku - let me go, shithead.”
Deku stared back at him wide-eyed. A manic smile twisted his face, and his grip
on Bakugou’s wrists tightened. “You’re not gonna tell anyone,” he said.
Bakugou sneered at him, but Deku shook his head.
“You’re not. You would’ve done it already.”
“So fuckin what,” Bakugou snarled, pulling against Deku’s grasp on him. “Let me
go, freak.”
Deku’s eyebrows drew in. “I just want to know why you’re so interested.”
Bakugou let out a yell of frustration. He ignited his palms, satisfied when the
resulting minor explosion knocked over a table and made Deku jump, his grip
loosening in his surprise. Bakugou snatched his hands free and jammed one
against Deku’s neck, holding him back against the wall.
“K - Kacchan,” he gasped, instinctively reaching up to scrabble at Bakugou’s
arm.
“I don’t give a shit!” Bakugou screamed in his face. “I’m not fuckin
interested, got it?”
Deku just blinked at him. “Fine,” he croaked. “You’re - not interested.”
“I’m not.”
Deku tried to reply, but his voice came out weak and thready. Bakugou loosened
his grip, letting his hand slip down to Deku’s chest. It was firm under his
hand, and he could see a flash of Deku’s skin where his shirt sleeve had ripped
away. Deku’s breathing got heavier as they stood there, his chest rising
sharply and pushing back against Bakugou’s hand.
“Freak,” Bakugou muttered. He let his hand slide across the fabric of Deku’s
shirt. Deku didn’t move. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his neck and into
the torn collar of his shirt.
Bakugou licked his bottom lip. His mouth was dry. He flicked his gaze up to
Deku’s face, but didn’t meet his eyes, just lingered on his parted mouth then
looked down at his chest again. Deku wasn’t pushing him away, and this might be
his only chance to get a look. He brought his other hand up and cupped his
palms around Deku’s chest, squeezing his pecs.
Deku groaned, and his head thudded against the wall. “K - Kacchan -”
“Shut up,” Bakugou snapped, licking his bottom lip again. He pressed Deku’s
shirt against his skin, looking at the dark shadow of his nipple beneath the
fabric. He rubbed over it with his thumb, then again harder. Deku made another
low noise, choking it back, and Bakugou watched in fascination as a pulse of
liquid turned the shirt translucent over Deku’s nipple. Like the answer to a
question nobody had voiced, Bakugou’s cock jerked in his boxers.
“Kacchan.” Deku sounded like he’d been running, chest heaving. His skin was
flushed and hot. “Stop -”
“I said shut up!” Bakugou yelled. He grabbed the front of Deku’s shirt and tore
it open, scattering the buttons across the classroom floor.
Deku’s fist surprised him, catching him on the edge of his jaw. It was an
awkward punch but Deku put plenty of force behind it, and Bakugou went flying.
He crashed into one of the desks, tumbling head over ass and landing awkwardly
on his side.
“Bastard,” Bakugou hissed, picking himself up. His side ached from slamming
against the desk and his jaw felt numb, but he barely noticed. He wiped his
mouth with the back of his hand and looked at the smear of blood where he’d
bitten his cheek when he fell. “You’re gonna fuckin regret that.”
“No!” Deku yelled, holding his hands up in front of him. “Just - just stop.
Please.” He lowered his hands and pulled his shirt closed. “I wanna just forget
about it.”
Bakugou looked away, snorting. “Whatever. Calm your fuckin tits, Deku.”
Deku ‘s face screwed up, looking almost like he might cry. “Screw you,
Kacchan.”
“Screw yourself,” Bakugou snarled back at him. They stood, staring at each
other, both breathing hard. Bakugou’s dick twitched again, reminding him and he
narrowed his eyes at Deku.
But before he could say anything, the all clear alarm sounded, and the seals on
the doors released with a hiss. Deku snatched up his bag and was out of the
room the second the door unlocked.
Bakugou stared after him. The wail of the siren died, returning them back to
normal. His own breathing was loud in the silence left behind.
***
The next week or so was about as normal as things ever were at UA. Bakugou
didn’t notice Deku avoiding him in the hallways because he didn’t notice
anything Deku did, fuck you very much. But it didn’t stop him from thinking
about Deku shuddering beneath him, or the feel of his firm, round tits leaking
under Bakugou’s fingers, and it didn’t stop him having to jerk off five times a
day just to get the image out of his head.
Catching himself daydreaming about it in class was the last straw. All Might
was droning on about something at the front of the room and Deku was urgently
scribbling notes behind him. Bakugou could hear his pen scratching over the
page. His attention drifted, wondering was for dinner that evening, taking note
of the vague gnawing sense of hunger in his belly. Kirishima had some milk
pudding cups stored in the common room fridge. Maybe he wouldn’t notice if just
one went missing.
Out of nowhere, he thought about running his mouth over Deku’s chest, sucking
on one of his hard little nipples. Did he leak all the time? Did it taste
sweet, or salty like sweat?
Bakugou tore his thoughts away from that dark train and slumped down in his
seat to hide his boner. Fuck Deku. Fuck him and his creepy quirk and his weird
tits and his - everything.
“Yo, Bakugou!” Kirishima said, kicking his chair suddenly.
Bakugou jerked upright. “What the fuck?”
“Class is over, c’mon, I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving,” Bakugou grumbled, shoving his books in his bag. He
stood up, but at the same time Deku got up from his own desk and their
shoulders bumped together.
“Watch it, shithead,” Bakugou snarled, turning to scowl at him.
But Deku didn’t flinch or cringe away. He held Bakugou’s gaze, his expression
serious and strangely still. “Watch it, Kacchan,” he murmured softly, before
picking up his bag and turning to leave. “Todoroki-kun, Uraraka-san, wait up!”
Bakugou stared after him, insults glued on his tongue. “Did you just hear
that?” he demanded, turning to Kirishima.
Kirishima looked up from his phone and frowned. “Huh?”
“Fuckin - never mind then,” Bakugou said, pushing him out of the way. “Hurry
the fuck up.”
***
They were getting ready for training the following day when the door to the
boys locker room burst open. Jirou stood there, holding a struggling Kaminari
by the scruff of his neck. At the sight of a girl in their midst, most of the
boys started yelling or hurrying to cover themselves. Bakugou glanced over,
bored, then turned back to his own locker and hauled his shirt over his head.
Deku, nearby, was cowering behind Iida, both of them looking awkward in only
their underwear.
“It was an accident!” Kaminari shouted.
“You don’t just wander into the wrong locker room and grab someone by
accident,” Jirou said angrily.
Kaminari looked sheepish. “I panicked! Uraraka-san was right next to the door,
she surprised me.”
Jirou let go of his collar and smacked him on the back of the head. “So grab
her shoulder!”
“Her boobs were hand height,” Kaminari protested, and then flinched when Jirou
swiped at him again. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
While they argued Bakugou looked over at Deku, and startled when he found Deku
watching him. He was still blushing, his cheeks and the top of his chest bright
pink. Bakugou tore his gaze from Deku’s chest and met his eyes again.
“The fuck’re you looking at?”
Deku blinked slowly, half turning toward him. Without meaning to, Bakugou
glanced down at his chest again, at the blush spreading lower, the dark circle
of his nipple.
The locker room door slammed as Jirou took her leave and Bakugou’s head snapped
up. He scowled at Deku and muttered a curse under his breath as he turned back
to his locker to retrieve his gym kit. The feeling of Deku watching him after
he’d turned away made the space between his shoulderblades itch, but he ignored
it and slammed the locker shut as hard as he could.
***
Bakugou couldn’t sleep. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t get his mind off
of Deku.
Twice he got up from his bed and went to the door only to go lie down again and
glare at the ceiling. He hated this. He hated his stupid traitorous body for
getting hard at the thought of Deku’s flushed, sweaty skin and his firm,
leaking tits. He hated his fucked up brain for torturing himself with thoughts
of Deku in his room, pumping himself dry, then pouring that creamy white liquid
down the drain. What a fucking waste.
Most of all he hated Deku. Hated his dumb face and his shitty hair and his
stupid secret quirk. Bakugou rolled onto his belly and buried his face in his
pillow. He hated the way Deku smelled, and the bulk of his arms and shoulders.
Hated the way he moved, the moves he’d stolen from Bakugou, and the way he
groaned and squirmed in his seat when his tits were aching and he needed to
touch -
“Fuck,” Bakugou shouted into his pillow, grinding his hips against the
mattress.
He was so caught up that he almost didn’t hear the knock on his door.
Raising his head, Bakugou glanced at his phone. It was after midnight. The
knock came again and he scowled and tossed the phone back on the nightstand.
“Fuck off, I’m sleeping!”
There was a pause. Then, “Kacchan?”
Bakugou groaned. “Go fuck yourself, Deku!”
Deku knocked again. “Kacchan, let me in.”
Swearing, Bakugou rolled out of bed and stalked to the door. He reached down
and adjusted his dick in his boxers, hoping Deku wouldn’t notice his boner.
That was the last thing he needed right now. He unlocked the door and wrenched
it open.
”What,” he snarled, but he’d barely opened his mouth before Deku was pushing
him inside, one hand firm against his chest. “Deku - the fuck? Get off me.”
Once inside Deku reached for the door and closed it behind him, leaving them in
darkness.
“Deku -”
The rest of Bakugou’s complaint was lost when Deku shoved him back against the
wall and smashed their mouths together in a clumsy kiss.
Bakugou’s eyes widened and he froze for a long moment before pushing Deku away
from him.
“What. The. Fuck.”
Deku wiped the back of his mouth on his wrist, and Bakugou’s stupid dick jumped
to attention.
“You still thinking about this?” Deku asked, making even less fucking sense
than usual.
“About you?” Bakugou snorted. “You wish, maggot.”
Deku snatched for his wrist, and drew it up to his chest. He pushed Bakugou’s
hand against him, and Bakugou realised that Deku’s tshirt was damp.
“You are, aren’t you?”
“Fuck off,” Bakugou said, but his words didn’t carry much conviction.
Still holding onto his wrist Deku rubbed himself against Bakugou’s hand,
grinding the heel of Bakugou’s palm against his nipple.
“Deku, shit,” Bakugou said, trying to pull his hand away. “Fuckin’ - stop that
shit, it’s gross.”
“So that’s why you keep staring at me?” Deku said, low, a challenge. “Because
it’s gross?”
Bakugou opened his mouth to retort but nothing came. He scowled instead and
shoved his weight forward, crushing Deku against the opposite wall. “I’ll break
you in half, shitty excuse for a hero -”
The light from the window highlighted Deku’s face, making his soft features
sharp and dangerous. Made his grin look villainous. “So come and try,” he said,
his grip tightening on Bakugou’s wrist.
With a yell, Bakugou threw himself at Deku and wrestled him to the floor. They
fought messily, their aims off in the darkness. Kicks and punches went astray,
and Bakugou was all too aware that his hard on wasn’t going away. The knowledge
only made him angrier, but the anger and the distraction of Deku’s hot, good-
smelling skin in the darkness threw him off balance.
Deku pinned him, pressing his weight down on Bakugou’s arms to hold him still,
his skinny ass planted on Bakugou’s stomach.
“I’ll kill you!” Bakugou snarled, struggling against him.
“Yeah,” Deku said, leaning down. He rocked back, grinding his ass against
Bakugou’s straining cock. “You sure about that?”
Bakugou made a strangled noise of frustration.
Deku just laughed and shuffled back until their dicks were lined up through
their clothes, and then he started rocking back and forth, grinding them
together.
“D-Deku,” Bakugou stuttered. He gritted his teeth and tried to keep scowling,
but it felt too good to hold out. He felt his fingers curl like claws and then
close into fists. He was itching to touch, and he rolled his hips to meet
Deku’s movements.
“Ahh, Kacchan,” Deku moaned, head falling forward. He bit his lip and then
released it with a heavy breath. “It f-feels good.”
“Let go of me, creep,” Bakugou snarled, struggling to free himself.
Deku relaxed his grip, and Bakugou reached for him at once, seizing him by the
shoulders and rolling him over to pin him against the floor. This time Deku
didn’t fight back, just hooked one of his legs under Bakugou’s ass and fucked
up against him again.
“Gah - fuck,” Bakugou groaned, half collapsing on top of him. He lowered his
head and dug his teeth into Deku’s shoulder, biting him hard enough through his
tshirt to leave teethmarks. Deku cried out and thrust his hips up harder, heel
digging painfully into the back of Bakugou’s thigh.
“More, Kacchan,” Deku moaned, twisting his fingers in Bakugou’s shirt, blunt
nails scratching his skin. “Hurt me if you want, I can take it -”
“Stupid - motherfucker -” Bakugou hissed, and bit him again, digging his teeth
into Deku’s neck until he cried out sharply. When he pulled away he could see
the mark he’d left even in the dim light. Moving lower, he breathed deep and
realised he could smell something other than clean sweat and shampoo, and the
cheap deodorant Deku used. He felt his mouth water.
“It’s - really bad today,” Deku mumbled, still grinding against him lazily. “I
was gonna pump it, but -”
“Disgusting,” Bakugou said, lowering his face to Deku’s chest and rubbing his
face against the damp fabric. He lifted his head again and yanked on Deku’s
tshirt. “You’re fucking disgusting.”
Deku laughed tightened his grip on Bakugou’s shoulders so that it hurt.
Bakugou growled. “Whatever,” he muttered, tugging Deku’s shirt up to his
armpits. Deku’s chest shone wet in the faint light, and with his shirt out of
the way the sweet musky scent was stronger. Bakugou cupped his hand around
Deku’s left tit and gave it a squeeze.
”Ahh,” Deku moaned, hips jerking.
Bakugou smirked. “Feel good, slut?”
“S-shut up,” Deku said, letting his head fall back against the floor. “I’ll
leave if you’re too afraid to suck it.”
“Don’t try that shit with me,” Bakugou snarled, lifting himself up on his
knees. “Deku you little shit - I fuckin know what you’re doing.”
Deku shimmied down beneath him and grabbed Bakugou’s ass with both hands,
pulling their hips together.
Bakugou felt like his brain was going to fall out of his ears. He squeezed both
of Deku’s tits with his hands, then leaned down and took one swollen nipple in
his mouth. He started to suck on it, and felt the rumble of Deku moaning
underneath him. Sweet milk covered his tongue, filling his mouth as he sucked
harder. He had a moment of panic where he couldn’t decide whether to swallow or
spit it out again, but then Deku grabbed him more tightly, fingers straying
dangerously close to his asshole, and Bakugou choked down his mouthful in
surprise.
“Dek - Deku,” he hacked, coughing. “The fuck -”
But Deku was gone, head thrown back in ecstasy as he came, hips vibrating
against Bakugou’s. Bakugou felt the dampness through his own underwear and
winced, but he didn’t have long to consider it before Deku recovered and surged
up, pinning Bakugou down on his back again.
“No, fuck no -” Bakugou protested, but it was no use. Deku climbed on top of
him, hot and sweaty, damp and still dripping. He grabbed Bakugou’s wrist again
and brought it to his chest, squeezed his fingers around the other of his firm
pecs.
“Wan’ me to leave?” he slurred, and reached down between them, grinding his
hand over Bakugou’s dick. “Or you want me to finish this?”
Bakugou gritted his teeth, turning his head away. “I don’t give a shit,” he
muttered.
Deku snorted. “Fine, bye then.”
He started to get to his feet, but Bakugou caught his leg and sent him crashing
down again. Deku yelled as he fell - god only fuckin knew what Bakugou’s
neighbor thought was happening in there - but he didn’t struggle when Bakugou
crawled over him again.
“You’ve got shitty milk, Deku,” Bakugou said, before yanking him up by his
collar and kissing him.
Deku groaned into his mouth, and reached up to tangle his fingers in Bakugou’s
hair. It wasn’t so much a kiss as a mash of lips and teeth, but when Bakugou
bit down on Deku’s bottom lip he moaned louder, and reached down between
Bakugou’s legs to start rubbing him through his boxers, so Bakugou counted it
as a win.
He tore his mouth away after a minute and bit Deku’s cheek, then his chin, and
then moved down to latch his teeth around Deku’s other nipple.
“Kacchan,” Deku moaned, pushing his hand into Bakugou’s boxers and grabbing his
cock. “Ah, f-fuck -”
“Asshole,” Bakugou grumbled around his mouthful, and then he started to suck.
It was already leaking in his mouth this time before he started, and filled his
mouth quickly when he started to suck. He swallowed down a mouthful, groaning
when Deku’s fingers tightened around his cock. Bakugou jerked his hips faster,
using Deku’s hand to get himself off. He came over Deku’s stomach with a low
groan, mouth open and panting, drooling milk over Deku’s tits.
They lay, slumped on the ground for almost a minute before Bakugou could find
it in him to push himself up. He wiped his mouth on his shoulder, and looked
down at the mess on his stomach.
“Get out of my fuckin room, Deku,” he muttered, pushing himself to his feet. He
gave Deku’s thigh a kick.
Deku propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at himself. Bite marks
stood out starkly on his neck and chest, and his stomach and hip were a sticky
mess shining in the dim light.
Bakugou looked away. “Get out.”
“Mm, I’m tired,” Deku said, stifling a yawn, and getting lazily to his feet as
though leaving had been his idea all along. Bakugou wanted to punch him in the
head. Deku wiped himself down with his tshirt and adjusted his underwear.
“Thanks, Kacchan.”
“Fuck off.”
Deku grinned at him. “By the way,” he said, taking half a step toward the door.
“If my milk is so shitty, how come you drank so much?”
“I’ll fucking kill you!” Bakugou yelled, raising his fist.
“Just a thought,” Deku said cheerfully, reaching for the door. “Night,
Kacchan.”
“Bastard!” Bakugou yelled after him. He followed Deku to the door, giving him a
kick in the rear to send him through before slamming it behind him.
With Deku gone, Bakugou turned and pressed his shoulders back against the door.
His mouth still tasted musky and sweet. He groaned and slammed his fist back
against the door. Then, slowly, he reached into his boxers and started to touch
himself again, mind full of Deku.
End Notes
     i love kudos and comments /fingerguns
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