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Christmas at U.A. is always a lot of fun! Kirishima always looks forward to the festivities, but this year he’s got a smoking hot boyfriend to spend it with.
It’s Christmas Eve, and Kirishima is currently taking advantage of that fact, holding Bakugou’s wrists above his head against the wall of Kirishima’s dorm room, kissing him within an inch of his life. They’re both wearing ugly Christmas sweaters for the party later tonight, and Bakugou frees one of his hands to tug down the collar of Kirishima’s sweater and breaks the kiss to put his mouth on Kirishima’s collarbone.
Kirishima swats him away with one hand. “No hickies! My hero outfit is like, totally shirtless, man!”
A devilish grin splits Bakugou’s face. “What if that’s my plan? What if I wanna mark you up, show everyone who you belong to?”
“Then you’re gonna have to find a different way of marking your territory, ‘cause if Mr. Aizawa sees me with a hickey I’ll actually keel over and die.”
Bakugou screws up his face. “Ugh. Yeah, that’s really not a sexy concept.”
“Let’s stop talking about this.” Kirishima tugs on the front of Bakugou’s sweater, falling onto his bed and bringing the other boy with him. Bakugou’s noise of surprise is muffled with another kiss from Kirishima.
Kirishima’s lying on his back now, craning his neck to make contact with Bakugou’s mouth. Bakugou’s holding himself up on all fours above him, pulling back every few seconds, just enough for him to be out of Kirishima’s reach, enough for Kirishima to make small sounds of frustration in the back of his throat at the loss of contact.
Kirishima takes Bakugou by the back of the neck and pulls him down to his level. Bakugou gasps, and Kirishima takes the opportunity to lick into his boyfriend’s open mouth, earning another sharp inhale from the blond. Bakugou’s hand slips under Kirishima’s sweater to lie flat against the planes of his stomach.
The only sounds in the room are the small, satisfied sounds that both boys are letting out every few moments and the creaking of the bed’s box spring as they shift positions. The silence and the feeling of Bakugou’s warm breath on his cheek, the heat of his hands on his skin, make Kirishima feel light-headed and a little drunk.
He still can’t believe that this is real some days. Some days he has to pinch himself to make extra sure that he’s not dreaming, that he really is the boyfriend of Katsuki Bakugou. They’ve been officially together for a few months, but Kirishima is just as smitten now as he was on day one. Every day it seems he adds another item to his list of reasons why he loves the explosive blond.
Right now it’s the way Bakugou’s bangs are falling over his face to tickle Kirishima’s forehead, and it’s the way his fingernails are digging slightly into the skin of Kirishima’s hips, and it’s the way he smells like caramel and cinnamon and smoke, and it’s the way he shivers when Kirishima slips his fingers under the strap of his binder, and…
“Oi.” Kirishima’s jolted out of his thoughts with a sharp snapping of fingers under his nose. Bakugou is sitting back on his heels, his legs straddling Kirishima’s hips. The look on his face is equal parts concerned and annoyed.
“Sorry! Got a little distracted, just… thinking.”
“Thinking? What the fuck is there to think about besides my tongue in your mouth?”
“Lots of things.” Kirishima hums and pushes back Bakugou’s bangs to plant a sloppy kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead.
“Fuckin’ gross,” Bakugou grumbles, wiping at his forehead, but his lips are pressed together to suppress a smile.
“You wanna go to that party in the common room?”
“Whatever. That’s the whole reason Ponytail made these shitty sweaters, right?”
--
The Christmas party is in full swing when the two boys exit the elevator and step into the common room. Food and drinks are stacked on a card table set up between the semicircle of couches, and twinkling multicolored string lights line the walls.
“Hey, Kacchan, Kirishima!” Kaminari shouts from across the room. He’s grinning, but there’s a hint of mischief in his eyes.
“You guys having fun up there?” Kaminari strides over to wedge himself between the two of them, throwing an arm around each of their shoulders.
Bakugou’s face flames a bright red. “The fuck are you talking about?” He scoffs, shoving his way out of Kaminari’s hold.
“C’moooon, you think we’re all stupid or something?”
“Eijirou,” Bakugou says, ignores Kaminari’s teasing. “Come get food with me.”
Kirishima gladly accepts, shrugging off of Kaminari’s arm with an apologetic grin before following Bakugou. He ignores Kaminari’s cry of ‘What about bros before hoes!?’
“Woah, this looks really good!” Kirishima feels his mouth water at the sight of the massive array of food.
“Keep it in your pants, Jesus.” Bakugou slips between Kirishima and the table, tucking himself under the taller boy’s chin. “You wanna eat it or fuck it? ‘Cause you’re totally drooling.”
“Shut up. You jealous?”
“Hmm. Yeah.”
Kirishima kisses Bakugou firmly on the cheek.
“Gross. We’re in public, the fuck are you doing?”
“Marking my territory.” Kirishima flashes Bakugou a grin, earning a furious blush and a weird grumbling sound.
“You want hot chocolate?” Kirishima asks.
“…Yeah. With cinnamon.”
--
“You’re not sleeping in your binder,” Kirishima insists.
“Sweater’s fuckin’ itchy, I don’t want it all up on my bare tits.”
“Wear one of my shirts. Before top surgery I fell asleep in my binder one time, I woke up thinking I was gonna die.” Kirishima peels off his own sweater and tosses it in his laundry pile.
“Whatever,” Bakugou mutters, sliding up next to Kirishima to rifle through his drawer. He pulls out a faded black t-shirt and pulls off his sweater before turning away from Kirishima to change out of his binder and into his sleeping shirt.
Kirishima steps out of his jeans and pulls on an old Crimson Riot hoodie and sweatpants. He gets into bed, patting the space next to him. Bakugou flips off the light switch and slips into bed next to him, shoving his face into Kirishima’s chest. Kirishima pulls him closer still, both arms hugging tight around his lover’s shoulders.
“G’night,” Bakugou murmurs, his voice muffled by the material of Kirishima’s hoodie.
“Goodnight,” Kirishima whispers.
The only light comes from the moon reflecting off the snow outside, a soft glow filling the dorm room. The snow is a blanket that muffles all sound outside, settling comfortably over the two boys. Kirishima breathes deeply, memorizing the smell of Bakugou’s hair. The two fall asleep like that, limbs tangled together, breaths synchronizing in the silence.
--
Kirishima wakes up a good few hours after falling asleep. He glances at the clock: 1:17 AM.
“Katsuki,” Kirishima whispers into the silence. No response.
“Katsuki.” He gently nudges the boy in his arms, who groans something unintelligible.
“ Katsuki ,” Kirishima repeats.
“Fucking what ,” Bakugou grunts.
“It’s after midnight.”
“So?”
“It’s Christmas!”
“Oh. Huh.”
“Merry Christmas, Katsuki.”
“Merry fucking Christmas, Eijirou. Now shut the fuck up and let me go back to sleep.”
Kirishima chuckles.
“Yeah, yeah, alright. Love you.”
“Love you, too, Shitty Hair.”