Lace, Satin, and Other Manly Things
brain child of Lore, commissioned by Pierce
krbk NSFW
bottom baku, sex in public sorta, post UA pro hero life, boys in pretty underwear

They’re in Bakugou’s apartment when they see it.

“Chargebolt bares it-

-all in his newest photoshoot!”

Hearing their friend’s name both men whip their heads towards the TV. They’re all still not used to the publicity that comes with being pro heros so any time someone is featured in the news, it’s exciting. Photos of Kaminari’s-

-newest spread flash across the screen. One where he’s in a fitted suit, no shirt and just a peak of yellow lace. Another where he’s bent over someone - is that model supposed to be a villain? - tight leather pants showing off his toned behind. Still another,-

-this time a little more risque, with him in high heels and a skirt, looking under his eyelashes at the camera. They hear Kaminari’s voice, smug sounding and confident, “Well you know, I’ve never really prescribed to the whole ‘men can’t wear pretty things’-

-thing. I mean, look at my outfits from my UA days! I’ve been messing around with,” he throws up exaggerated air quotes, “‘girly’ clothes for forever. Which, by the way, is bull- is ridiculous. Clothes cannot be ‘girly’ or ‘manly’, they’re clothes for shi--

-goodness sake!”

Kaminari takes a deep breath and Kirishima bursts out laughing at how he’s somehow managed to get himself ranting about clothes on national television.

“ANYWAY, as I was saying. I have always liked things that look and feel good. I can-

-look like a dream and kick your ass doing it!”

‘Damn he was so close to keeping it PG’ Kirishima thinks as he glances at Bakugou.

Bakugou doesn’t laugh but his mouth is tilted up into what can be considered a smile for him. He huffs out a breath and-

-mumbles, “what a dork.”

“Aw man, I think that was pretty cool! I mean, he’s definitely gonna get in trouble with his publicist for the cussing… but he’s right! Being a dude shouldn’t stop you from wearing what you want! That’s not manly!” Kirishima smashes-

-his fists together and aims a smile at his best bro.

Bakugou turns away to hide the flush he feels creeping across his face.

He’s either successful or Kirishima just doesn’t care to call him out, because he continues, “I mean I wouldn’t mind wearing-

-something like that for a photoshoot!”

Bakugou nearly breaks his neck looking back at Kirishima. He’s breathless, “What?!”

Kirishima shrugs, “Yeah, why not? Haven’t you ever been curious? I mean, Kami got me into a skirt back in school, it was kinda…” he-

-rubs the back of his head, suddenly bashful, “nice.”

Bakugou feels like the floor is falling out from under him as he stares at Kirishima. He clears his throat, “You would wear that shit?”

Kirishima laughs, misinterpreting his tone, “What, you think I-

-won’t? Bet! Let’s go to the store right now. But I’m not gonna be the only one wearing lingerie, so you’d better do it too!”

He grabs Bakugou’s arm and they’re out the door before Bakugou can even pretend to protest.

***

By the time they make it to the-

-shop, Bakugou’s inner thoughts are driving him crazy. He can’t believe he’s finally going to fulfill his years-long desire to wear lingerie. He would have ordered something online or just come in by himself but honestly, he’s a bit of a coward. He knows it-

-isn’t right and the shame from knowing he /shouldn’t/ feel shame for it only makes it worse, so he shoved the desire into the far corners of his mind and has avoided thinking of it as much as possible.

Until now.

Now, when /Kirishima/ of all people has-

-drug him to ‘the store Mina makes me carry all her shit out of’. He can already feel his arousal simmering under his skin. He’s so focused on trying to ignore it that he jumps when Kiri touches his shoulder.

“Shit!”

Kirishima grabs both his shoulders and-

-turns Bakugou to face him. “Hey man, it’s okay if you don’t want to do this. I mean, I think you’ll look gr- I think it’ll be fun, but if you’re uncomfortable we’ll go right back to your place, throw on an on All Might movie and chill, yeah?”

The soft look-

-in his eyes and gentle tone has butterflies growing in Bakugou’s stomach. He imagines stomping them to death.

A little louder than he means, he growls out, “I’m no coward Kirishima! Get the fuck in there!”

Kirishima laughs as Bakugou rips the door open-

-and practically throws him in.

They hear the tinkling of a bell and soft music playing as they enter. Suddenly, both men are speechless, feet glued to the floor while their eyes dart around taking in all the different lingerie in the shop. There’s lace of-

-every color, silk that looks soft as butter, leather that definitely squeezes in the best ways - so much that they are overwhelmed. This was still mostly a joke, neither had thought about what they would actually do once they got here!

A soft voice cuts-

-through their panic, “Welcome, how can I help you two?”

Bakugou takes a deep breath but Kirishima beats him to it, “Hi! Um hi, so we wanted to try on some lingerie?”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, is he asking or telling the poor employee?

Instead of being-

-annoyed, she smiles, “Okay, wonderful! My name is Cara, I can absolutely help you find some things I’m sure you’ll love. Let’s go get you sized. Too many people are wearing the wrong sizes, so it’s policy for us to get that out of the way first! This way!”-

-

She turns and waves them to follow. Bakugou doesn’t bother correcting her on the assumption that they have done this enough to have worn wrong sizes - he recognizes a bone when it’s thrown.

After a few (if Bakugou is honest) less than painful minutes,-

-they’ve got their sizes. Cara seems completely unfazed by their, undoubtedly unusual, sizes. She’s either extremely practiced or more men than Bakugou thought are into wearing lacy underwear. Kirishima is a 57C but “you’ll have to really feel out the cup-

-sizes because depending on the brand, you could wear a D” and Bakugou is a 46B. He has a single competitive thought about the difference in their sizes but scoffs at himself when he realizes he almost challenged Kirishima over their tit size for shit’s-

-sake.

Armed with their new knowledge, they venture out to the racks in search of pretty things to decorate themselves in. They go separate ways; they need the space and they have vastly different shopping styles anyway. Kirishima wanders, gently running his-

-hands along the racks, rubbing fabrics between his fingers and grabbing colors that catch his eye. Meanwhile, Bakugou frantically flits from rack to rack, snatching sets seemingly at random. Before Kirishima realizes, he has a handful of items and Bakugou at-

-his side. He’s avoiding his eyes, body turned towards the dressing rooms but it’s clear he’s talking to Kirishima when he says, “You ready, shitty hair?”

Kirishima’s voice comes out softer than he anticipated, voice stuck in his throat, “Sure.”

***

It-

-takes a minute to figure out the clasps and get used to the tighter fit of the panties but Kirishima gets into his first piece fairly quickly. He looks in the mirror and examines the comfortable set. It’s a matching baby blue cotton bra and panty. The top is-

-a simple, stretchy sports bra that hugs his chest tightly, reminding him of the nice pressure he looks for in sports wraps. The bottoms cling to his hips and cup his cheeks, making his ass look perky. As he turns to admire himself he giggles at the word-

-“cutie” stretched across his ass. He hops up and down to test it’s support and is pleasantly surprised, maybe he’ll actually wear this to the gym. It’s not that much different from his normal briefs.

He says as much to Bakugou, “Man, this isn’t as weird as-

-I thought! The bottoms are basically the same as my normal underwear. Here, lemme show you, dude.”

He reaches for the door but stops when he remembers there’s a store, potentially full of customers, on the other side. He grabs his phone and snaps a picture-

-before he can think too hard about the fact that he’s sending an underwear pic to his best friend. Like muscle memory, his thumb hits send before he can regret it.

***

Bakugou is busy Going Through It while Kirishima yammers on in the next stall over. He-

-hasn’t looked in the mirror, and he’s not sure if he’s exactly ready yet so he blindly reaches over to where his phone sits on top of his neatly folded clothes.

Even though Kirishima had basically announced to the whole store what he was doing, the image-

-of him in a bra and panties sends Bakugou’s heart into his throat. His eyes dart all over the screen, determined to soak it all in before the 10 seconds are up. By the time Kirishima speaks again, the picture is gone (oh god, it’s gone forever he realizes)-

-but he’s still gripping his phone with two hands. His mind is racing. The picture was innocent enough, Kirishima was striking a dumb flexing pose and smiling so widely his eyes were closed. But something about seeing someone so /big/ and muscular, so tough-

-and sharp, wrapped in baby blue, /soft/ cotton has Bakugou sweating.

“Uh,” Kirishima clears his throat, “bro? Didja get my pic?”

He can’t trust himself to speak so he types in their chat, “Yes.”

Kirishima: lol k 

Kirishima: lemme c urs too

Bakugou: No.

Kirishima: dont b a chicken bro

Bakugou growls and tosses his phone. Call him a fucking chicken? He’ll show shitty Kirishima. He keeps his eyes glued to the floor as he turns towards the mirror. He knows he looked a little hectic when he grabbed his choices but he hadn’t needed any extra time to overthink

his decisions. In fact, even while he had been in denial about wearing pretty things, he had still noticed which colors look best against his skin, what complemented his eyes, the cuts of shirts and pants that accentuate his waist and muscles.

And okay, maybe he had done a little research one night, locked in his room, bottle of sake in hand. But he was black-out. He doesn’t remember.

He steels himself and lets his eyes drift up, following the hard, lean lines of his legs. He gasps when his eyes finally reach the black lace clinging to the outside of his hip. He gulps and continues taking in the rest of his body. The panties are smaller than Kirishima’s

had looked. They’re not a thong but they do cut higher across his cheeks than he’s ever felt. They’re made to fit his dick, which, thank god, because without the pocket he’s sure his balls would be out. The bra is flimsy, thin and wireless. He can see his nipples hardening under

the fabric. He blames that on being practically naked in an air-conditioned store and ignores the fire he feels in the pit of his stomach. Despite the fabric cupping his pecs offering barely any support, he has a lewd amount of curved muscle being framed in black.

He hears his phone ping. He leans over and tsks when he sees Kirishima has messaged him again. 

Kirishima: bro?

He’s so annoyed he answers aloud, “Fine! Fuck, shitty hair, I’m sending it.”

As he leans back up, he glances over and has to double take. Is that his ass? He turns slowly, head twisting to keep his gaze on the mirror. Is that /his/ ass? He unconsciously raises onto his tiptoes and watches as his butt looks /even perkier/. He twists a little to look at it

from the side, admiring how nicely the lace curves up and over his cheeks. A smirk grows on his face. He knew he was going to look hot! With his newfound confidence, he grabs his phone and snaps two pictures. One from the front and one over his shoulder, his ass on full display.

He hears Kirishima’s phone go off and then jumps when a loud crash comes from Kirishima’s stall. 

“What the fuck are you doing over there, idiot?!” 

Kirishima is relieved he’s alone in his dressing room. Thanks to the full length mirror he can see that he is blushing

/everywhere/. He had stupidly chosen to open his snaps from Bakugou while trying to step out of his underwear and had promptly lost control of his body. He knows lingerie isn’t exactly innocent clothing but Bakugou’s body looks downright /lewd/. For a moment he imagines

busting down Bakugou’s dressing room door to slam him against the wall, kiss him silly, bend him ove-

He shakes his head. This is Bakugou, his best friend.

His best friend...who looks hot as hell in black lace. This is fine. Kirishima can deal with this, he can live with this knowledge. It’s fine. He’s hot. He’s always been hot. It’s /fine/. Kirishima types a response into the chat and throws his phone. Okay, time for the next set.

Wait. 

What did he just type to Bakugou? His heart begins to pound. He hadn’t even thought about what he sent. Fuck. His hands shake as he picks his phone back up. 

Kirishima: u look hot

/FUCK/

Hand over his mouth, he stares wide-eyed at his notifcation.

/Bakugou is typing…/

He opens the chat and watches as Bakugou’s name lights up a few times, clearly either typing a long response where he tears Kirishima a new one or...or he’s figuring out how to respond at all. Which is very unlike Bakugou.

Bakugou: Thanks. 
Bakugou: You too. 

Even though he can’t see him, Kirishima’s eyes snap to the wall separating them. Did he just...compliment him? He’s tempted to climb onto the little corner seat and peak over the wall just to check that it’s actually Bakugou over there.

Instead he reaches for another set, eyes still focused on the wall. When he looks into the mirror, he notices the small smile on his face. Bakugou thinks he’s hot.

The next thirty minutes fly by with the two sending pictures back and forth, each more suggestive than the last. Bakugou in a purple, iridescent teddy that makes him look ethereal. Kirishima in gold satin briefs that beautifully complement his tan skin. Bakugou in a blue, floral

bodysuit that despite covering most of him, is actually see-through minus the small bit of cloth on his crotch. Kirishima in black, tight leather with buckles and straps that remind Bakugou so much of his hero outfit, he bets he’ll be popping boners during every battle

they fight together from now on. By the end, Kirishima is sending multiple pictures from different angles and Bakugou is replaying each and every snap until Kirishima gets the hint and sets the timer to infinite.

But Kirishima saves the best piece for last. It’s red, but not red like his hair. It’s a dark, deep red, almost brown but with enough brightness that it’s clearly not. It’s velvet and softer than the other sets, with just a little bit of padding at the bottoms of the cups

emphasizing his chest. He gives himself a once over in the mirror and likes, really likes, what he sees. It’s a little plain but it’s perfect for what he has in mind. While he was browsing the store, he noticed the display for jewelry and realized it wasn’t the usual jewelry in

clothing stores. No, this display has all kinds of pretty things to wear /with/ your lingerie. Single strands of dainty silver to lay across your waist, thick, heavy stainless steel chains for your neck that are impossible to miss, gold and crystal webbed together in intricate

patterns to decorate your chest. They’re all tempting but the piece Kirishima wants is perfect for grabbing Bakugou’s attention. The loud, headstrong blond won’t be able to ignore this piece. And hopefully, he won’t be able to ignore the message Kirishima wants to send either.

Kirishima throws on sweatpants on top of his panties and opens the door before he can overthink the fact that he’s about to walk out in a bra. He lets go of the breath he was holding when thankfully Cara is standing just a few feet away. If she’s surprised to see

hulking, brick-shithouse-of-a-man Kirishima in dainty underwear, she doesn’t show it and he wonders, not for the first time, if he can send the woman a gift basket or something.

She clears her throat, “I was just coming to check on you. Everything okay?”

Kirishima glances towards Bakugou’s dressing room and wills himself to relax so he doesn’t seem nervous. “Yeah, uh, could you grab me something to try on?”

“Yes, of course. Do you have something specific in mind or would you like me to…” her voice trails off as she looks over

her shoulder. 

Kirishima’s eyes are focused on the jewelry piece.

She smiles gently, “Oh, that will look gorgeous, especially with that set you have on now. Just a moment!”

He flushes red at the reminder of what he’s wearing but he takes some steadying breaths and is ready by

the time she comes back.

The golden piece is huge in her hands and she needs to stand on a stool but she maneuvers it easily over Kirishima’s head and shoulders. The metal sits cool and heavy on his skin while she fastens it tightly to his neck. Thin strands are twisted to look

like lace around his throat and down his collarbones and thin chains waterfall down his chest and end in points like daggers, drawing the eye to his abs. Longer strands on the outside drape low to swoop around his hips and connect back behind his shoulders.

Cara smiles gently, “I’m going to go help some customers. Yell if you need anything else.”

“Uh huh.” Kirishima answers distractedly.

He can’t stop staring at himself, slowly turning his chest this way and that to watch how the gold glitters in the light. His eyes drift lower when he feels the ends of the chains tickle his stomach and suddenly he /needs/ to get these ugly sweatpants off.

He knows it’s strange and he’s still sort of out in the open but he’s around the corner and he’ll definitely hear if anyone is coming before they can see him so he rips them off and throws them in the direction of his dressing room.

“Oi!” 

His aim must not be as good as he thinks. His shoulders shake with laughter and he’s delighted to hear the chains tinkle together across his body. His cheeks hurt from his wide grin and he feels good.

Until

he hears the unmistakable sound of a dressing room door unlatching and opening. Panic shoots through him and freezes him to the spot. He braces himself as he watches the mirror for Bakugou’s reaction. 

The door slams open and a fully clothed Bakugou emerges, angry and yelling.

“What the,” his eyes land on Kirishima, “fuck…” The door slams shut behind him, almost drowning out his whispered curse.

Kirishima watches as Bakugou looks him up and down. His confidence trickles back as Bakugou’s eyes stop on his ass before continuing the journey along

Kirishima’s decorated body. His mouth opens but no sound comes out.

Kirishima is tickled at this reaction. He’s smug when he purrs, “What do you think, /Katsuki/?”

His eyes snap up, frantic. “I -”

Kirishima straightens, holds eye contact through the mirror and bites his lip. He’s already all dressed up for Bakugou, he might as well go all in at this point.   

Bakugou starts again, “I have to go to the bathroom!”