Snippet of my WIP:
The lighting was dim and the water was warm, softly caressing Izuku’s skin. The silence was stretched thick— almost uncomfortable. Izuku was still in the bathtub, hyper aware of his exposed skin. Bakugo didn’t seem to care though. He flashed Izuku a warm smile as his hands massaged his scalp.
Bakugo was gentle, like he was handling delicate— priceless pottery. Crimson eyes warmed into a warm blood-birth rendering Izuku speechless. He sucked in a breathy gasp as warm water cooled against his back, tracking the curve of his spine in its wake. Fingers followed, warm and careful, caressing his skin tentatively, tracing him like a secret.
Izuku warmed, every piece of his being blazed under the relatively warm soapy water. Lingering gazes and touches left his gasping and silently pleading for more.
Yet he never took his gaze off his best friend. The giddy feeling in his chest swelled —burned. His heart melted in the fury and it pained. He hated it.
Bakugo was so warm, careful. So familiar Izuku missed it. He missed strong hands gripping him to comfort. Lingering gazes that awoke butterflies in the depths of his stomach. Unbothered chatter. Thoughtless laughter. Kisses to his neck, to his chest, to his fingers, to his thighs, to his lips. He missed being held, being seen. He missed him.
Izuku missed his Kacchan.
“Hey!” Bakugo called softly, thumb caressing his salty stained check. Izuku sniffed and his heart hurt. He hated it, wanted it gone. “Hey.” Bakugo repeated softer and cupped his cheeks, slippery hands firm against his skin.
“I’m sorry. I should not have done that in front of you.” He whispered, closing in, their foreheads touched, noses an inch apart, lips an inch further.
It wasn’t that. Izuku was so angry, his chest was in pain, he sighed and breathed in Bakugo’s breath. His heart pained so much it could burst.
“Kacchan.” He breathed, a tear rolled down his cheeks. He held onto him like a lifeline. Like letting him go would shatter him completely. His pulse rising, wild and erratic, loud enough to break the silence. He breathed him in.
Izuku wanted him back. He wanted him back under his skin, under the tips of his tongue. In the depths of his soul.
Those eyes, Izuku wanted them for him, only his.
He didn’t know if he’d be forgiven. He didn’t know if he deserved to be
But he leaned in anyway.
“Izuku—”
He kissed him. Their mouths met in a collision of pain and longing and years of things left unsaid.
Izuku whimpered when Bakugo sighed into him—like he’d been waiting for this, terrified to hope. Cold fingers traced his cheeks, slid down his neck, and carved a home in his soul.
Izuku’s mind flared, he needed this, a tear rolled down his cheek when Bakugo matched his rhythm. He gasped breathlessly, a sound that cracked open something deep inside Izuku. The image of Bakugo and her disappeared like a paper under a flame in a black night; ashes disappearing into nothingness. All those days Bakugo missed his gaze evaporated like a mist when he grounded him, wet tongue slipping into his mouth.
His sanity thinned into a distant white noise as he stood from the bathtub and sat on top of his best friend. He moaned into him when Bakugo held his waist, wet skin against wet skin, and pulled him close with an urgency that left Izuku gasping a stuttering mess into him.
Bakugo’s moved up his soapy wet back, bursting every nerve in its wake, another tear rolled down Izuku’s cheek when all his anger, all his pain and frustration and grief burned at his best friend’s touch morphing into a thin smoke that he gasped out in a moan.
Izuku held onto him tighter, like the world would stumble over if he was a millimeter away, he didn’t care to breathe and he just let it out, into him.
As Bakugo’s lips salvaged him whole, Izuku dissolved—into nothingness, into everything.
Did it matter if the sun belonged to the earth? Either way, the earth would wither without it.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/65156848
Status: ongoing
Word count: 80k words
Ship: Katsuki Bakugo/ Izuku Midoriya.
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