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Kirishima loves sex. He loves how close it makes him feel to Bakugou, like they're one person. He likes that his boyfriend can communicate what he's feeling, without having to worry about the words.
It also feels really fucking good.
There's nothing he won't try twice. Once was too risky. He could be having an off day! Twice would let him know for sure if he was into something or not.
Bakugou always needs some convincing. That isn't to say he doesn't want to try things. He's just too bad at communication to openly announce to Kirishima, Hey I'd like to try edging! or Fuck, I'd like to be spanked.
Usually Kirishima picks kinks he thinks Bakugou will enjoy. The blonde has never said no to anything, except being gagged and tied down. (He likes doing those things to Kirishima, but his claustrophobia turns it into a horror movie rather than a porn if it's himself.)
They have the weekend off together. Their first one this month. Kirishima had weighed his options, had considered waiting at the door for Bakugou to come home, leash and collar in his hand. (Katsuki really got off on pet play.)
He considered having Denki come over just to tie his hands and feet and then leave, so that he was ready and waiting for Katsuki to walk in and use.
(He couldn't get the image of Bakugou coming home with company--Who would he possibly bring over?--and immediately discarded the idea.)
He turned everything they’ve already done down for some reason or another. Which meant it was time to ask for something new.
So when Bakugou did come home, Kirishima was just waiting, fully clothed on the couch, a blush on his cheeks.
Out of everything they'd tried this would be the weirdest.
“You sure you want that?”
Kirishima bites his lip, sharp teeth piercing. “Yeah.”
“You're really sure?”
He gulps, trying to appear calm. “Yes.”
If Katsuki had a tail it would be wagging. He was physically vibrating with excitement. It makes Kirishima relax. “Rules?”
“Got none.”
“Rules?” He says harder, firmer.
“Uh… Not in my mouth.”
He hums in agreement. “Face?”
Embarrassment makes his skin flush. “Yes.” He whispers.
Kirishima shudders when the AC kicks on. Cold air blows over his exposed skin, creating goosebumps. He gives a choked moan, his skin is so sensitive even that feels pleasurable. The ache in his lower stomach intensifies when he shivers.
He's trussed up like a prize, toys in him, around him, binding him. Every move, every breath he takes, shifts one or all of them, has him nearly crying out from sensitivity.
“Jesus, you fucking slut. The goddamn AC is getting you off?” Bakugou walks around from behind him, after giving a good test yank on the rope holding Kirishima's wrists together.
“Not my fault.” Kirishima pants out, his hard dick bouncing against his lower abdomen. The only reason he hasn't cum yet is because of the cock ring squeezing him tight. It's preventing him from doing several things.
Katsuki was relentless. He made Kirishima drink glass after glass after glass of water.
“Oh yeah?” Katsuki bends down, getting eye level with the redhead, who's bound, kneeling on the floor. He presses his thumb against the slit of his erection. “Then whose fuckin’ fault is it, Eijirou?”
Yours. Yours. Yours.
But Kirishima can't say that. Not unless he wants punishment. And normally, he did want it, liked the bite of pain that Katsuki always dished out. Normally Kiri would beg for it, push buttons, fight back, talk dirty.
He couldn't today. He was too desperate.
Katsuki had kept him on the edge for hours. Literal hours. Everytime Kirishima started to feel the heat coil in his stomach, everytime precum dripped down the shaft, Katsuki would stop.
He wouldn't remove the cock ring. He wouldn't give Kirishima’s bladder any relief.
“Eijirou.” Katsuki’s hand threads in his hair and jerks his head to the side, causing his dick to throb and a very manly moan to rip from his throat. “I asked you a question.” His free hand slides down the vertebrae of his spine, slips between his ass cheeks to play with the toy inside of him. “Answer it.”
“ Ah! Katsuki!” He pulls on the toy until it teases his rim, making Kirishima give a slutty moan. His back arches into his boyfriend's touch, his thighs jerking.
“Eijirou.” Katsuki reprimands, shaking his head. His hand slides around to Kirishima's lower stomach, massages just above his hard dick.
Eijirou is desperate. He definitely screams. His bladder burns with effort to keep his piss. His knees are shifting together, his body folding to try to hold every drop in.
“Please!” his voice cracks. He thinks he might be crying. At the very least, he needs his hands. He needs to hold his stomach, his dick, anything to stop the urgency.
Katsuki stops in front of him, eyes roaming over his face. He lifts his chin, thumbs at his tears. “Safe word?” He asks softly. He's worried. He's never seen Kirishima this way before. He likes it, but he's also scared that he's pushing him too far.
“R-red.” Kirishima leans in when Bakugou does, their lips brushing, featherlight. “Come on. I w-want this.”
Katsuki's hands are shaking. He wants this too. “Fine.” He stands up and walks over to the dresser. His phone is there. Their Hero figurines. A few photobooth pictures of them from high school.
He doesn't grab any of those.
No, his boyfriend, the sadist, grabs a bottle of water off the dresser and unscrews the cap. He chugs half, his Adam's apple bobbing, and fuck even that's hot. But the swish of water in the plastic, knowing that Bakugou is swallowing water, drives him insane.
It hurts. His muscles are tense. His bladder aches. He can't. He can't do this--
Bakugou doesn't go easy on him. He smiles, holds out the half-full bottle and says, “Drink this.”
“I can't.” He feels so full. Full of piss. Full of cum. His ass is stuffed with a plug, preparing him for when his boyfriend decides to take pity on him and fucks him senseless.
A sharp quirk of his brow. “Drink. It.”
Kirishima whines, but tilts his chin to drink what Katsuki offers.
He tries to drink it fast and chokes a little, the water spilling down his chin and chest. He can feel it, sliding down his throat and pooling in his stomach. He feels it sloshing with the water already there and he moans. He's too full. He can't take anymore.
He's crying again, but that's okay. Maybe his tears will use some of the water in his stomach, and give him a little relief.
Bakugou unscrews another bottle and Kirishima shakes his head. There's no way more will fit inside of him. He feels like a water balloon seconds away from hitting the floor and exploding. Katsuki smiles, seductive and dark. “It's not for you.”
It's gone in seconds and he's wiping his mouth and throwing the crumbled plastic into the corner of their room.
Katsuki mirrors Kirishima’s position on the floor, sits in front of him resting on his knees. He wraps his hot palm around the base of Kirishima's dick and he can't help but keen from the amazing pleasure.
On the upward stroke Bakugou’s knuckles brush against Kirishima's bladder. Kirishima's head turns to fuzz, like the static channel on an old television set. His mouth opens and his tongue rolls out. He can't find his voice to beg. All he can do is whine.
"You've been so good for me, baby.” Katsuki says, hand continuing to stroke him. “I bet you want to let go so bad.”
“Yes! Please! God Katsuki, pleas--"
“Shh.” Katsuki soothes, hushing him. His fingers circle the tight cock ring around the base of his erection. “I'm going to take this off you. Can you be good for me?”
Kirishima's mouth says yes, but his heart says no. He's about to explode.
The cock rings slips off and a few drops of both precum and piss drip down his shaft. Bakugou stands, looking down at him, and he looks so fucking good, his own cock hard and weeping.
Desperation wars with frustration. He swears his stomach is bloated from how much water he has inside him.
Bakugou smirks then and lifts his foot. He presses his toes into Kirishima's nipple, which makes his breath catch, before dragging his foot lower.
Lower.
Lower.
“Katsuki! Don’t-- ah fuck !”
“Be careful,” Katsuki teases, eyes rapt to the slit of Kirishima's dick where more droplets are falling. “It's my turn. Not yours.”
Kirishima's breath is a blend of a hiccup and a sob. He pushes up on his knees, tries to get closer without much movement as Katsuki grabs his own cock. He's whimpering, begging.
Katsuki groans when a stream of hot piss explodes from his dick. He throws his head back, but keeps his eyes on Kirishima, looking at him through lowered lashes.
His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he aims the stream up, coating Kirishima's neck, his collarbone. It runs in rivers down Kirishima's stomach, teasing. It's too much, not enough.
Until...
Katsuki aims down, pissing directly on Kirishima's cock. He moves his own back and forth, aiming side to side, coating Kiri’s erection. It feels like he's running his fingers over his skin. The light pressure of the stream, combined with the removal of the cock ring and watching Katsuki’s face morph into ecstasy is Kirishima's downfall.
He moans loud as he finally gets relief. It explodes out of him, so heavy that he couldn't stop it even if he wanted to. He knows it's sick, he's getting off on the feel of his boyfriend's urine bathing his cock.
His eyes close tight, he doesn't want to look at Bakugou, doesn't want to see any disgust on his face. It feels so goddamn good to finally release. He doesn't even care that hot piss is puddling under his knees.
Fuck. As he empties his bladder, the oxygen rushes out of his lungs. His vision goes white from how amazing the absence of pressure is. He can't believe he's just pissed himself in front of Bakugou.
The embarrassment briefly starved off his orgasm at least.
Bakugou's hands are hot on his sides as he shoves Kirishima forward. He doesn't bother with the rope around his wrists, his hands are good there. He drags Ei’s hips up, so he's face down, ass up.
Now that the urgency to pee is gone, Kirishima is reminded of how bad he has to cum. He yelps when Bakugou removes the plug in his ass, the toy only there so Bakugou can slip inside without wasting time on prep.
He feels Bakugou's finger prod at his entrance, testing the give. “I'm ready!” He practically screams. “Fuck Katsuki, I'm ready! Fuck me, please fuck--"
“ Unh!” Katsuki's thrusts inside, burying his hard cock deep in one smooth thrust. His hand presses into red hair and Kirishima's face is shoved into the floorboards. He turns his head to the side to breathe, choking on his moans.
His face is rubbing directly in the puddle they created, his cheek and loose tendrils of his hair getting soaked in urine. It’s all over his face. It's degrading. It's possessive. Like he's being marked, owned by Katsuki's scent.
The sound of skin slapping together fills the room. Bakugou's pressing into his prostate with every drag of his cock and Kirishima is a slut for it, pushing his hips back, trying to fuck against him, spur him to go harder, take him rougher.
Every hard thrust pushes the air out of his lungs, until Kiri's gasping, lightheaded. Bakugou's fingers tighten in his hair, his thrusts turning brutal, until he's hammering at the bundle of nerves inside Kirishima. He grinds Kirishima's face into the puddle, moans pushing out from between his lips.
“Cum for me.”
Kirishima does. Cum explodes, splattering wildly into the puddle already underneath them. His muscles jerk with every pulse of his erection. His senses go offline, his hearing momentarily deafening. His sight disappearing. Lewd moans are coming from him, tapering off into whimpers when he hears Bakugou's shout of pleasure and feels the hot rush of his cum fill him up to the brim, like another thrust of Bakugou's cock.
Kirishima smiles when he feels the comforting weight of Bakugou's chest press against his back. His labored breaths tease the hair at the nape of his neck.
Kirishima is exhausted and thoroughly fucked. He's also incredibly happy.
“Love you, Shitty Hair." Bakugou presses a soft kiss to his skin. “Always.”
“I love you, Katsuki.” Kirishima turns his face to his soulmate, crimson eyes locking with scarlet. “Now could you please untie me? I need a shower.”