They were so fucked for work tomorrow. The bar was tilting around Bakugo and Kirishima was laying his head on the bartop. Who the hell knew how much they had drunk at this point.
"Ssspeakin' of public image, I wanna ask you what you think 'bout somethin'," Kirishima slurred sleepily.
"Spit it out then."
"Sometimes I don't like scarin' people. Like villains and douchebags are fine, but good people, kids and stuff... I don't wanna to make them nervous." He looked over at Bakugo without moving his head from the bartop. Haku was watching him with a disapproving frown on his face. "So, I've been wonderin' if I should get my teeth filed."
"What?!" Bakugo nearly fell out of his chair in shock.
"To make 'em look more normal," he explained.
"No fucking way!" The words flew out of his mouth. What the hell was he saying? He should be encouraging him. Maybe if he had normal teeth then Bakugo would finally stop staring at him all the damn time.
"Really? Ya think?" Kirishima raised his head reluctantly. "Don't they look scary?" He bared his sharp teeth, touching a tip of one tooth with his tongue.
Shit. Shitshitshit. He looked away, taking measured, slow breaths. He was fine. That expression wasn't kind of sexy or erotic. It wasn't tempting to stick his own tongue in Kirishima's mouth and touch those teeth himself. Not at all. Not one bit.
Fucking hell.
"They're fine. They're part of your trademark look. If you take them away it would be super weird. Besides, they're not really scary."
"Ya don't hate 'em?"
"No." He took another drink of his beer and instantly regretted it. His stomach felt so full that he could feel the sloshing of liquid in it. "Well, I think I'm done." He stood up and motioned for Haku to come over. "I'll take the tab."
"Yeah, I think I've had enough celebratin' for one night," Kirishima said ruefully. As soon as Haku came over to them with the bill Kirishima's hand shot out, shoving his credit card into Haku's hands. "I got it."
Bakugo scowled. "Does this look like a fucking date?"
Kirishima winked at him. "You want it to be?" He laughed at his own joke. "'Sides, this was my idea so I got this. You can pay next time, I swear."
After a long glare, he caved in. "Fine. Crash at my place tonight. I don't want to hear about you barfing in some random taxi tomorrow."
Kirishima smiled. "Well, I'm not plannin' on barfin' at all but okay."
They left the bar to walk down the sidewalk, wobbling on their feet occasionally and talking about nonsense that seemed to flow comfortably between them. The night breeze was cool and perfect on Bakugo's flushed cheeks. Kirishima's hair was dark under the moon, but his silhouette was as solid and dependable as always.
"I had fun tonight," Kirishima mused out loud.
"Pfft, now this really does sound like a date," Bakugo snickered.
"I'm glad we're friends, Bakugo."
"I know you're a happy drunk, but this is overkill."
"Seriously, though! Jusst tellin' the truth. We're best buds, aren't we? We should be able to say things like this to each other."
"Kill me now," Bakugo sighed.
"Emotionally constipated."
"Excuse me, shitty hair?"
"You heard me." Kirishima laughed a bit louder than normal. The sound seemed to echo down the empty street.
"Fuck off."
They reached the apartment building, the ground floor lights shone through the windows like a beacon. The night guard, an older man with a calm demeanor, nodded at Bakugo and Kirishima in recognition, pretending like he didn't notice they were completely wasted. The elevator ride to the top floor made both men clutch the rail for dear life.
"Why did I let you talk me into this?" Bakugo complained
"I don't know, why did you let me talk you into this? It wasn't even that hard."
"You wanted me to fight with you about it?"
He smirked. "Hmm. Well, it does make winning more satisfying." The word 'satisfying' rolled off his tongue suspiciously.
Bakugo gave him a look as the elevator stopped and they stepped out of it. "Now you sound like a weird pervert."
"Do I? I bet ya have some kinky skeletons in your closet yaself."
Bakugo pretended like he couldn't feel Kirishima's stare at his back and punched the code into his electric lock. He opened the door and shuffled inside, kicking off his shoes immediately. He was reaching for the light switch when Kirishima came inside, letting the door shut behind him and casting the hall into complete darkness.
He heard Kirishima mutter, "Whoa!" and then a massive weight crashed into Bakugo. He fell onto his stomach, feeling like he was being crushed. He struggled to get up, frantically attempting to at least shuffle into a crawling position.
"Wait a second, Bakugo," Kirishima grunted. His voice was right in Bakugo's ear, making him freeze for a moment like a startled deer. He snapped out of it a moment later and started struggling again. "I said wait!" His voice was strangled. "I'm super dizzy and you're rubbin' against my dick."
"What the fuck?" he gasped.
"Sorry. You didn't move your shoes over and I tripped on them."
"Are you saying it's my fault that you can't get off me?" His heart thumped like a drum in his ears.
"I could definitely get you off," Kirishima rumbled in amusement.
"I said 'get off me' not 'get me off'!" Bakugo snarled.
Something tickled his neck and he realized it was Kirishima's breath. "God, Bakugo, you smell amazin'.... Sorry ahead of time, 'kay?"
"What the fuck are you talking-" A wet tongue slid over his pulse point and he had to swallow a moan. "Kirishima!" he cried out in embarrassment. Time seemed to stop as tiny prickles of pain skittered on his neck, like electric needles, right under his ear. His breath hitched in his throat and his protest came out as an incoherent jumble of sounds
Kirishima growled warningly and hot breath fanned over his skin. All of a sudden Bakugo realized that the needles were Kirishima's teeth and several things happened in a matter of seconds. For a few seconds his mind just spun in shock. Then his dick throbbed as he got an erection faster than he ever had in his life. Finally, he panicked, flailing and bucking wildly like an angry stallion. The exciting tingle morphed into pain. Finally, Kirishima unclamped his teeth, with a satisfied hum, and slowly slid off his back.
Bakugo crawled away from him on the tiled floor, his breath coming out in ragged bursts. Jumping to his feet, he slapped the light switch on.
Kirishima was sprawled on the floor, completely and blissfully passed out. His mouth hung open as he snored lightly, the tips of his teeth dipped in crimson. Bakugo felt a trickle down his neck and knew instantly what it was. He gingerly touched his neck and gaped at his red fingertips. His dick twitched in his pants, begging for attention.
Holy shit, holy shit.
What the hell was that? And why was he hard? He sat on the floor and stared at Kirishima for several long moments before glaring at his dick. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" he asked his dick. He rubbed his face, suddenly exhausted, not realizing that he left bloody tracks across his face like some kind of horrifying warpaint.
Once his erection went away, he stood up and nudged Kirishima with a foot warily. "Oi! Wake up, dumbass." Kirishima didn't move an inch.
Bakugo weighed his options for several moments before reluctantly reaching down and grabbing the larger man's hands. He dug his heels in and tugged Kirishima slowly across the tiled floor. He was grateful that the maintenance workers came by recently and polished all the floors. By the time he reached the living room couch he was sweating like a pig and his stomach churned in protest. He moved the coffee table over a little and threw a spare futon on the floor. He rolled Kirishima onto it, took his shoes off, and threw a light blanket over him. Peering longingly down the hall, he wanted to take the shoes and put them by the door where they belonged, but now that the rush of adrenaline was dissipating, his brain felt numb.
He barely made it to his own bed, crawling into it wearing clothes reeking of alcohol and smears of blood drying on his neck and face.