BNHA, Count to Ten (Then Start Over)

Title: Count to Ten (Then Start Over) [Kirishima/Bakugou]
Rating/Warnings: R
Summary: Kirishima might not be first in the class but he’s way smarter than to take Bakugou at his word about exactly what he’s ready for during his next heat.
AN: Written for shiritori. the R is for a lot of cursing and sex talk but no actual explicit sex, so if you’re squicked out by the mechanics of ABO verse but don’t mind the rest of it, you’re safe. Also usually I’m in the Kirishima/Bakugou both alpha camp, but somehow this came out being all about Bakugou the kind of terrible omega that Kirishima loves exactly the way he is. Because he is a Good Boy.

Count to Ten (Then Start Over)

His omega boyfriend squirmed, snarling and eyes flashing with irritation, and maybe nobody else saw the appeal of Bakugou’s explosive temper tantrums, but Kirishima loved it enough for everybody else anyway. Maybe it was because Bakugou’s explosions couldn’t hurt him if he didn’t want them to, but somehow Kirishima found it cute that Bakugou’s personality was the complete antithesis of every omega stereotype.

“Why the fuck not?” Bakugou demanded. He squirmed harder, trying to throw Kirishima off, but Kirishima had his weight balanced perfectly on Bakugou, stradding his hips, and his wrists pinned down into the dirt of the practice ring so that firing off any explosions wouldn’t help either. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“I’m really not,” Kirishima said. He should probably stop smiling because Bakugou looked ready to pop a vein, but Kirishima honestly couldn’t help it. Struggling, pissed off, pre-heat Bakugou was just too over the top to be taken seriously, and also low-key kinda beautiful.

“What the FUCK?” Bakugou gave up struggling and just glared at Kirishima as fiercely as he could, chest heaving. “You spent weeks trying to get me on my back every time we make out, and now I’m telling you just to do it already, and now you fucking won’t? Fuck off, then! What’s the fucking point of having an alpha slobbering all over you all the fucking time if he isn’t gonna do the ONE FUCKING thing you’re ACTUALLY FUCKING GOOD FOR?!”

“I’m definitely not fucking you the first time during heat,” Kirishima said calmly, much more calmly than how even the thought of finally getting to top Bakugou was making his heart trip all over itself. “You’ll definitely say after that I took advantage of you and get pissed.”

“I”m pretty fucking pissed right now!” Bakugou snapped.

“Nah, you’ll get over this in like ten minutes, max.” Kirishima shrugged, as much as he could without letting up the pressure on Bakugou’s wrists. “But if I pop your cherry on shady heat consent, I dunno you’d ever forgive me for that. That’s worth way more than a couple days of heat sex, seriously.”

Bakugou struggled to answer that, face scrunching up. “I’m not in heat now, and I’m telling you just to do it!”

“Dude, you’re like not even 36 hours out.” Kirishima leaned in close enough to sniff Bakugou showily; his pheromones were already thick enough to almost coat Kirishima’s tongue. “More like 24. That’s barely any better.” Bakugou scoffed. “No? Wanna go right now, then? If you’re so ready.”

Bakugou flushed immediate red, starting at his ears and spilling down his neck until the collar of his T-shirt hid it. He muttered that that was what heat was for, called Kirishima some names, and wouldn’t look him in the eye at all.

“Uh-huh,” Kirishima said, because he’d already known that was the answer. Bakugou wasn’t ready, and heat wasn’t going to make him more ready, just more desperate, and honestly it was kind of funny how Mr. Number Two Class Rank couldn’t figure that out but Kirishima Rank 15 Eijirou got it right away. “So like I said, not yet.”

“Do you just…” Bakugou was still looking away, jaw visibly clenched. “Not want to?”

So dangerous, this guy, damn. Kirishima wanted to agree just to wipe away that uncertainty, even though he knew in his gut it was the wrong choice. Instead he let go of Bakugou’s wrists and dropped heavily on Bakugou’s chest, dragging lips up Bakugou’s jaw up to his ear before he could squirm away.

“Of fucking course I want to. M’gonna make it so good when we get there, y’know?” Kirishima drew in another deep breath, nose pressed just above Bakugou’s scent gland, feeling Bakugou shiver against him. “Fuck, you smell so good. I’m gonna devour you, Katsuki, and it’s not gonna be during some heat haze. You’re gonna remember every second of how I made you scream for me.”

“Shut UP,” Bakugou snarled, turning his head to crash their mouths tougher in a bruising kiss. His hands were in Kirishima’s hair a moment later, yanking and making Kirishima groan into Bakugou’s mouth. Bakugou rolled them over to slam Kirishima into the ground by the shoulders hard enough to nearly knock the wind out of him, or maybe that was from Bakugou looming over him, eyes flashing and teeth bared.

As predicted, Bakugou forgot he was pissed in less than 10 minutes. Bakugou was a moody mess for the next 26 hours, and not exactly a joy to live next door to for the first three days of his heat. For the last two heats, Kirishima had snuck into Bakugou’s room for the last day or so, once Bakugou had entered the exhausted, clingy stage, but this time he didn’t dare do even that. A fact that Bakugou showed up in Kirishima’s room in the middle of the night, freshly showered but clearly exhausted, to snarl at him.

“Dude,” Kirishima said, rubbing his eyes. “I’m hard but I’m not made out of stone. Didn’t think I’d be able to say no. All done now?”

“No thanks to you,” Bakugou spat, but he crawled into bed when Kirishima held up the blankets and fitted himself in as tightly as he could against Kirishima’s chest, arms around his back, tangling their legs. “It fucking sucked.”

“Sorry,” Kirishima murmured. He hugged Bakugou back tightly with one arm, his other hand dragging through Bakugou’s damp hair, already poofing up wildly from drying uncombed. My angry exploding sheep, he thought with affection. Out loud he said, “Next time.”

“Don’t promise me shit,” Bakugou muttered, mouth against Kirishima’s throat. The tension was leaking out of him slowly but surely as Kirishima rubbed his back in warm, slow circles.

“I mean it, at least for the end,” Kirishima insisted. He’d be stronger, he promised himself. The strongest. “Are you still mad at me?”

“Fucking furious,” Bakugou said, with all the conviction of a limp noodle. “As soon as I can feel my dick again, you’re gonna feel exactly how much.”

“Ohohoho,” Kirishima leered. “Ready when you are, babe.” Bakugou didn’t answer, although he wasn’t asleep, and after a second, Kirishima mentally kicked himself. “You know I don’t care, right? That you’re not ready to go the other way.”

Wrong answer. Bakugou tensed right back up again, then rolled himself over with an audible huff. He didn’t leave, though, and after waiting a few seconds, Kirishima curled up along Bakugou’s back, arm snaking over Bakugou’s waist to pull them flush together. Waiting and not poking at it was hard, but Kirishima only ever got to the root of an outburst if he waited. He rubbed his nose gently against the back of Bakugou’s neck and started counting, one two three…

He was at twenty-seven before Bakugou said, very quietly, “I don’t get why you don’t care. We’re all backwards and you just keep letting me do it to you and you don’t even care.”

“It’s not a hardship, man. You make me feel good and you do all the work.” Kirishima nibbled whisper-light against the curve of Bakugou’s neck. “And I do care, but not about the backwards part. Says who anyway? Just cause I’m the alpha I can’t like riding your dick? That’s bullshit. Your dick is great.”

Bakugou snorted softly but didn’t otherwise answer. Kirishima nosed at his neck harder, licking the skin over his scent gland; Bakugou whined, still oversensitive from his heat.

“Even when you do finally let me, I’ll still want it that way some of the time. We might even fight over it.” Kirishima chuckled at the idea.

Bakugou twisted his head to eye Kirishima, eyebrow raised high. “What the fuck? Why?”

“Why what? It feels good now, it won’t stop feeling good later.” Bakugou was still staring at him. Kirishima rolled his eyes. “This isn’t a R18 doujin with a bunch of rules about who’s taller and who’s older and who the prettiest is. Which, for your information, is totally you.”

“It is not,” Bakugou hissed.

“Yeah, uh-huh,” Kirishima said, deadpan as he raked eyes over Bakugou’s bed hair and sparking eyes and sharp frown.

“Whatever.” Bakugou let his head flop back down. “I guess it’s fine if you like it so much.”

Kirishima hugged Bakugou tighter, nose pressed against the back of his neck, but he kept his mouth firmly shut to keep the I like you so much from spilling out. He wasn’t an idiot.

It took another two weeks, almost three, but Kirishima would have waited a hundred more for the way Bakugou looked up from his homework across the table and muttered, “Let’s just do it already.”