2am Knows All Secrets [Kiribaku]

when galaxies ignite

It was different like that, it was more. At the change, Bakugou gripped onto Eijirou's hands, intertwining their fingers, squeezing, as if scared Eijirou might pull away. Cute. Eijirou huffed out a breathless laugh against Bakugou's lips, then squeezed Bakugou's hands back. He wasn't going anywhere.

And maybe a comforting gesture like that was the encouragement Bakugou needed, for he pushed forward, just a little bit more, letting go of one of Eijirou's hands to cradle his jaw. Eijirou couldn't help but lean into the touch, his head tilting to the side as he gave in to the sensation. Their noses bumped against each other, then slotted into place side-by-side, ohh, that was probably where they were supposed to go.

Barely breaking the kiss, he pressed his hand into the mattress next to Bakugou's thigh and shifted to kneel beside him, leaning into him, pressing him gently up against the headboard. His other arm, he brought behind Bakugou, fist clenching against his back, tugging until their chests were flush against each other, their hearts thumping together, finding a rhythm in tandem.

Bakugou's hands roamed, first onto Eijirou's upper arms, his fingers pressing into the skin there. Then relaxing, sliding up to Eijirou's shoulders, then the back of his neck, pulling him just a little bit closer, pressing their lips together just a little bit harder.

They did that until it no longer felt strange. Until it was familiar. This, they knew how to do. But then, a tongue pressed against Eijirou's mouth, tentative, making his breath hitch and his eyelids fly open.

Bakugou's eyes were still closed, brows furrowed in concentration, and it was too much to look at Bakugou while his tongue was against Eijirou's lips, so Eijirou closed his eyes again.

Feeling brave, he returned the favor, running his tongue over the parted seam in Bakugou's lips, and Bakugou hummed – Eijirou could feel it rumble in his chest and it made him feel alive.

And oh, this was kissing. Really kissing. With tongues and teeth and a fire igniting in Eijirou's chest, his lungs burning as their mouths moved against each other, with each other, forming gasps and sighs and gentle mutterings of names. Their hands grew brave, bold, wandering, fingers combing through hair and tracing down necks and shoulders.

Damn, Bakugou had nice shoulders. And nice biceps. Even through the shirt, Eijirou could feel the toned muscles, his pectorals and abs. What would it be like to feel skin under his fingertips instead of fabric? He smiled into the kisses, delighted as he found an exposed sliver of skin at Bakugou's waist. But when he trailed his fingers over the surface, Bakugou jolted back with a gasp, his breaths suddenly rough and ragged in the empty air.

Eijirou tore his eyes open, concerned.

"You okay?" he asked, voice low. Was it too much?

As an answer, Bakugou brought his hand under Eijirou's shirt and traced against that same soft spot between his hip and stomach. At the touch, a muscle in Eijirou's abdomen spasmed.

"Ack!" he yelped, ducking his head against Bakugou's chest. His yelp teetered into a breathless sort of laugh. "Holy shit," he panted. "That tickles."

He lifted his head, looking at Bakugou, seeing a devious smirk settle comfortably on his face. Uh-oh.

"No," Eijirou's eyes widened. "No, no, no, don't—"

The fingers teased against his stomach again, and Eijirou shrieked. In a flail of limbs, he fell to the bed, putting some distance between him and Bakugou's tickling hands, but it was in vain. Bakugou descended upon him in an instant, ruthless and all snickers, and soon the room was filled with their laughter.