Chapter Text
Kirishima couldn't believe he was going back. Again. This was...what, the third time, this week? Surely Bakugou would’ve noticed by now. Hell, Kirishima knows he’s noticed by now. Bakugou’s always scanning the crowd during performances, and he almost always catches eye contact with Bakugou. He’s absolutely electric when he performs, the entire crowd is enchanted when he sings, honestly. Whereas Kirishima, well, he’s feeling…a lot more emotions when he watches Bakugou sing, and walks out with his pants a little too tight. It’s not his fault if he spends slightly too long in the shower, that night.
Kirishima doesn’t know what exactly it is about Bakugou Katsuki that’s so intriguing. He’s not too famous either, hell, he’s just a local bar performer. Kirishima’s friends is friends with him, that’s how he saw Bakugou in the first place. Kirishima knows it’s wrong, but god, as soon as his hand curls around his dick all he could think about is that smirk Bakugou gave him when licking his lips. Kirishima’s absolutely fucking done for.
Maybe that’s why Kirishima’s blushing so hard as he pushes past the other excited fans to get as close as possible to Bakugou. As close as possible to the guy he jerked off to last night, the guy he’s been jerking off to every night. The whoops of excitement get louder and louder, and Kirishima holds his breath as footsteps approach the stage. Bakugou’s hair is spiked to perfection, like always, but fuck it looks so good. What Kirishima wouldn’t give to run his hands through that hair, maybe tug on it while-
Fuck.
Kirishima’s pants are tight already, and Bakugou just walked onstage. He had black eyeliner painting his already sharp eyes with an even sharper line, and he was scanning the crowd again with half lidded eyes. Both of Bakugou’s ears were pierced, his nails were painted and he wore black gloves on each hand. Bakugou had his signature skull t-shirt, and pants that were way, way too tight, with a chain hanging from them. To Kirishima, though? Those pants clung to him, outlining something else Kirishima was very interested in. His shirt was the same, and Kirishima could make out the shape of abs underneath it, and it nearly made his mouth water—nope, it definitely made his mouth water.
Then Bakugou snatched the microphone, the music pounding through the nightclub. He grinned, wide and cocky, before starting to sing, and Kirishima’s heart jumped into his throat. Bakugou was such an incredible performer, his voice was loud and booming, such an intense and unique sound that Kirishima couldn’t describe as anything else but dominant. Bakugou was absolutely gorgeous, a walking sex machine, had an amazing sound, it was all enough to get Kirishima weak in the knees.
Bakugou finished his first song, then rolled his eyes at the flood of noise that erupted from the crowd. He grabbed the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up to wipe the small beads of sweat that had formed on the top of his head. Kirishima’s jaw dropped open, choking, and he was sure his face was tomato-red. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, almost trying to burn it into his memory. He was going to have a long, long shower today. Bakugou’s abs were sculpted and hard, a V in his hips leading underneath his jeans, and if you looked carefully (like Kirishima), you could see a blonde trail leading down to Bakugou’s dick. Kirishima was so, so fucking gay. What he’d give to lick those abs, fuck.
Bakugou was exactly his type, and Kirishima hadn’t really considered himself a sexual person before this, but now he’d never been this thirsty before. All he wanted was Bakugou to not only dominate the stage, but him, too. To be bent over while getting absolutely wrecked.
Bakguou looked up, and made direct eye contact with Kirishima. Kirishima jolted, blushing even darker, mentally cursing himself. But Bakugou just tilted his head up, smirking hard. The look in his eyes could be described as nothing less than predatory. Then while maintaining eye contact with Kirishima, he dragged his hand up his abs, and Kirishima followed it, his jaw falling open, again. Bakugou then moved his hand down to his waist, splaying across his crotch, and squeezed. He fucking grabbed his dick, looking at Kirishima. Kirishima felt all the air leave his lungs, he was so hard that it was almost painful at this point.
And to make it worse? Bakugou just chuckled at Kirishima’s face, then dragged his tongue across his top lip suggestively. Kirishima let out a loud sigh, so horny that it was basically killing him. He wasn’t going to survive this concert.
Kirishima was right.
Bakugou made eye contact with him so much, winking at him, licking his lips, fucking grinding while looking at him. Near the end of the concert, he ended up fully taking off his shirt, then proceeded to wipe his sweat with it, before tossing it to the side and continuing shirtless. Kirishima ended up leaving early, turn around and running, desperate to get to the nearest bathroom. He couldn’t wait until he got home and in the shower. Kirishima needed this, right now.
The damn bathroom was full of a couple fucking, and that just made it worse for Kirishima. Why today, of all days?
He decided to go outside, maybe smoke a cigarette, get some fresh air. There were people everywhere, so Kirishima went to the back of the club, a red hallway, with the room at the end of it. Kirishima could see a red guitar at the end of it, and the passing thought that someone could come briefly crossed Kirishima’s mind, but he dismissed it. Hey, who would come out, after all?
Kirishima was wrong.
The door opened while Kirishima was scrolling through his phone, and he looked up, before his eyes nearby popped out of his head. It was Bakugou. His shirt was back on, and he was sweaty, and fuck he looked even better up close. Kirishima immediately looked down at his phone again, cheeks a furious red, hoping Bakugou would just walk past him, but of course, that wasn’t the case. He noticed Kirishima, and stopped, leaning back on the opposite wall.
“Oi.” Bakugou said, tone low, and Kirishima looked up, scrambling to put his phone away.
“Y-yo.” Kirishima stammered out, trying and failing to find something to say. Fuck, what does he say?
But Bakugou does it for him, cocking a grin. “Did you enjoy the show?”
Kirishima nodded quickly, a little too quickly, before clearing his throat. “Yeah! Uh, yeah. You’re really good out there. I liked it.”
“I can tell.” Bakugou smirked, eyes flickering down to his crotch, and Kirishima flooded with embarrassment. Fuck, he was still hard. “What’s your name?”
“K-Kirishima.” Kirishima choked out, practically not functioning. “Kirishima Eijirou.”
“Kirishima.” Bakugou says, trying the name out, and Kirishima swore he nearly lost his sanity then and there. He wanted Bakugou so, so bad, and now he was less than a step away. He wanted to make a move, should he make a move?
Luckily for him, Bakugou did it for him, walking forward and slamming a hand on the wall next to him hard enough for Kirishima to jump. He was caged in my Bakugou, who was leaning in incredibly close. He dragged his other hand up Kirishima’s torso, groping on his chest slightly, and Kirishima’s mind went blank.
Kirishima just stared up at Bakugou, in slight questioning, but mostly lust, begging him to do more. Bakugou smirks.
“I knew, from the moment I saw you..” Bakugou whispers, tilting his head, his breath tickling his lips. He slides his leg between Kirishima’s, pressing against Kirishima’s obvious boner and making Kirishima’s lips fall open in a breathy moan. “…That I’d have you underneath me, before the night was over.”
Kirishima’s heart began to race, his want overwhelming at this point, and he whined, trying to get Bakugou to press their lips together. “Please…please, Bakugou.” Kirishima said, winding his hands around Bakugou’s strong neck.
Bakugou groaned in response, nosing at Kirishima’s jaw to his neck, then beginning to pepper hot kisses down it. He was fucking amazing with that mouth, each kiss made electricity run down Kirishima’s body, each kiss intense and claiming. He dragged his tongue across Kirishima’s neck, taking turns between sucking and licking down his neck, but leaving enough marks there that Kirishima would have a hard time covering up the next day.
Kirishima couldn’t bring himself to care. This was him getting necked down by the guy he’s been thirsty for for how long.
“You want me.” Bakugou mutters against his neck, not asking, no, he knows. It’s a statement, and fuck it’s hot. To prove his point, Bakugou brushes his hand over Kirishima’s crotch, against his hard dick straining in his pants.
“Yeah,” Kirishima breathes, catching himself in a moan as Bakugou licks his collarbone. “Want you so bad, you don’t how long I’ve wanted you for-“
“Beg.” Bakugou demands, his lips cocking into a smirk, and he leans in close. Kirishima wants to close the gap so badly, he doesn’t waste a moment. “Please, Bakugou. Please, please, please.”
Bakugou groans in return, and slams their lips together hard enough for Kirishima’s damn head to rattle, but he doesn’t have time to care, because Bakugou’s licking into his mouth while sliding his hand up Kirishima’s shirt and groping his chest, flicking his nipple, and Kirishima feels light headed. Bakugou’s mouth is hot and he’s hungry when he kisses, forceful and intense, and every single part of it has Kirishima weak in the knees.
In the middle of the kiss, Bakugou’s hand travels lower, all while licking over Kirishima’s teeth. He zips Kirishima’s jeans down, undoing his button, then pulls his dick out. Kirishima outright gasps into the kiss, his eyes going wide, before it merges into a low moan/ Bakugou starts jerking him, hard, all while kissing him, and Kirishima’s panting against his lips. All the various sensations are messing with his head, and he feels like he’s going to pass out.
Kirishima leans his head on Bakugou’s shoulder, trying to regain himself, but Bakugou just moves faster and swoops to his neck again, biting and suckingg down it, not stopping his hand’s movements for even one second.
“Bakugou, p-pease, I’m so cl-ose-…Ah!” Kirishima begs, voice breaking on a moan. But Bakugou’s lips just stretch into a smirk.
“Call me Katsuki, Eijirou.” Bakugou just whispered, before slamming their lips together. Kirishima cried out into the kiss, saying a muffled ‘Katsuki!’ against his lips, before cumming harder than he ever had. Kirishima slumped back against the wall, breathing heavily, a complete and utter mess. He tilted his head back, leaning against it, his eyes still half-hidden and cheeks flushed. He looked completely and utterly wrecked.
Bakugou grins, pulling out a tissue and wiping his hands, all while Kirishima’s still trying to come back down from his high. “C’mon, Eijirou. Did you seriously cum so hard that it fucked with your brain?” Bakugou asked, chuckling.
Kirishima just whined in return, his eyelashes fluttering. Bakugou takes that as a yes, and shakes his head, then puts Kirishima’s dick back in his underwear and does up his jeans again. “You need to get home, dumbass.”
Kirishima finally seems to come down, and blinks up at Bakugou, eyebrows drawing together. “But Bakugou-I mean, Katsuki..” Kirishima starts, but Bakugou shushes him gently, pressing their lips together lazily.
“I added my number to your phone. Next time, I’m fucking you so hard that you’ll be feeling it for weeks.” Bakugou whispered, and Kirishima’s entire face flushed red as Bakugou slid his phone into his back pocket again, and then walked away.
Kirishima couldn’t wait.