// krbk , edging , vague dom/sub undertones , praise , top kiri crying (good tears)

there's something intoxicating about watching kirishima struggle to stay in control, and there's something even more thrilling in being the one to make him lose it in the end.

it started with lubed up hands and a 'you can cum if you hold off three times'.

nowadays, it's kirishima fucking him hard, slow, with gritted teeth and a ‘see how long it takes before you can’t help yourself anymore’.

-----

bakugou’s got his arms stretched over his head to push back against the headboard, meeting kirishima’s thrusts with fluid full body rolls, working that dick just as much as he’s getting fucked with it.

kirishima pants against his cheek, deep, heaving breaths as he presses in close and pulls out over and over again. his hair is falling out of the bun he put it up in before they started.

sweat beads on his forehead and in the small of his back, making bakugou’s feet slip when he tries to get a good grip around that thick, soft waist.

“m’close again,” kirishima tells him on a shaky breath, damp lips brushing against bakugou’s overheated cheeks.

“I want more,” bakugou breathes, tilts his head to kiss his absolute unit of a man, letting his legs fall back down to the mattress, spread and giving kirishima full control of whether or not he keeps fucking him.

kirishima groans into his mouth, licks into it with his hips stuttering, rocking the bed.

bakugou grinds back, meets every breath and thrust and tremble kirishima gives him, arching to press his chest and dick against kirishima just the way he knows drives him mad.

kirishima breaks the kiss, grabs bakugou’s waist with both hands and fucks into him harder, faster, that barely contained desperation simmering to the surface.

“yeah,” bakugou moans, pushing back against him, “fuckin’ /give it to me/, red-”

“oh, /god/,” kirishima chokes, pleads, stilling immediately and breathing hard into the crook of bakugou’s neck. his thighs shake, stomach tensing, tight balls pressed against bakugou’s cheeks and he’s trying /so hard/ not to just fuck the ever living hell out of him.

bakugou spreads his legs even more and makes a point of not moving his hands, keeps them firmly on the headboard so he doesn’t hold on to kirishima.

he does roll his hips, though.

one long, fluid motion that he doesn’t even get to finish before kirishima pulls out of him with a hissed curse, hand shooting down to squeeze around the base of his dick.

“fuck fuck /fuck/,” kirishima chants, voice cracking and his legs pressing together like he’s trying to hold it.

his back arches so he’s curling in on himself, and bakugou can’t help but moan at the sight, the sudden feeling of being empty, the thought of kirishima almost falling the fuck apart because of him.

“god fucking damn it,” kirishima hisses, sucks in a breath, muscles relaxing as he brings himself back down from that sharp edge.

then, he’s shuffling back in between bakugou’s legs before he’s even stopped shaking, gets his dick back against his rim, longing to work himself up to the brink of orgasm again.

“you sure that’s a good idea for you, huh?” bakugou purrs, grinds down so that the fat head of his cock slips back inside him. kirishima gasps and grinds his teeth, fights the urge to either pull back or push forward.

“I can do it,” kirishima promises, swallows thickly, and bakugou can’t wait to prove him wrong.

kirishima takes a deep breath and rolls his hips, and then he’s screwing his eyes shut with a breath punching out of him.

he shoves all the way inside, bottoms out and jerks forward like he’s trying to get even deeper, and bakugou swears he could put a hand on his lower stomach and fucking feel him in there.

“there you go, good boy,” bakugou moans and clenches around that perfect cock, and then kirishima’s eyes fly open and he’s pulling out again, pleasure and panic clear on his face in equal measures.

his hair is a mess, strands of red sticking to his forehead, eyes glossy and nipples hard and he’s /gorgeous/ like this, needy and determined and almost, /almost/ ready to give in to it.

“c’mon,” bakugou urges, moves his hands away from the headboard to hook his legs over his arms, bending himself in half for kirishima. “want you to feel good in me, red.”

“/fuck/,” kirishima whines, blinking fast and already leaning back in, getting his dick back inside. he thrusts shallowly, hesitant, like he’s ready to back off at any second, which - yeah, he definitely is.

“kiss me,” bakugou purrs, toes curling when kirishima slides in just right, pleasure coiling low in his body. kirishima makes a choked up noise and then he’s leaning in, stealing the breath from them both when he slots all the way inside bakugou.

bakugou spreads his legs until his thighs burn and then they’re kissing, tongues sliding together and lips softly smacking when kirishima fucks into him, rocks them back and forth and turns the kiss sloppy.

he’s speeding up again, moaning into bakugou’s mouth and bakugou almost thinks he’s done, that he’s forgetting about edging himself and losing himself in how good it feels instead, when kirishima suddenly just. stops.

he’s halfway inside him, tensed up, holding his breath, and bakugou presses his head back into the pillow in a try to look him in the eyes.

“what’s up? you good?”

kirishima nods and breathes out, slow, controlled.

“you sure?” bakugou pushes, shuffles so he can get up on his elbows, and-

“s-stay still, just, /fuck/, stay still /please/,” kirishima gasps, and oh.

okay.

yeah, he’s good.

“I am still,” bakugou informs him, and kirishima starts to shake his head but changes his mind halfway through, tensing up even more.

“no you’re not.”

“I’m literally not fucking moving.”

“I can feel it when you talk, oh my god, I’m gonna fuckin’-” and then kirishima bites his lip and whimpers, eyes tearing up when his hips move as if on their own, stuttering in and out of bakugou for just a second, and then-

“so good, too good, I,” kirishima tries, and then twin tears spill from the corners of his eyes and bakugou’s heart /swells/ inside his chest.

“pull out, then,” bakugou hums and doesn’t mean it.

“g’na cum if I do,” kirishima breathes more than says, like this pains him greatly, and just that sentence has bakugou clenching /hard/ on that dick. kirishima gasps and puts a huge, trembling hand on his waist, squeezing like he isn’t sure what to do.

“mmh, want that,” bakugou tells him. “wanna feel you cum in me so bad, big guy,” he urges, head spinning slightly with how true it is, and then kirishima reaches up, up, up to the headboard.

he grabs it, braces himself with his knees digging into the mattress, and then he fucks into bakugou /hard/.

“oh /fuck/, I can’t,” kirishima sighs, defeated and /relieved/ about it, and bakugou’s hands instantly fly up to hold on to him, his meaty shoulders, his thick arms.

“/fuck/ yeah, give it to me,” bakugou moans, and kirishima /does/, fucks him just the way he’s been dying to, hard and heavy and relentless in chasing his pleasure.

“fuckin’ do it, cum in me, c’mon,” bakugou moans, and-

that’s all it takes.

kirishima moans, loud, hips stuttering for just a second before he’s cumming. he fucks bakugou right through it, pumps his load deep inside him, tears rolling down his cheeks with how good it feels, so fucking /happy/ to have lost this round, too.

bakugou manages to get his hand in between them to stroke himself, humps down on kirishima’s twitching, softening cock. he makes sure he grinds on it just right to make that dull, heavy pleasure shoot up his spine,

and then he’s chanting ‘good boy’ because kirishima should know, and it’s with a yelp and with kirishima licking into his mouth that he blows his load and makes a mess between them.

-fin-