[He doesn't attempt to pull away from Charlie's voice as the man's breath tickles his ear. Hot and close, skin tightening and muscles hardening when the man's chin scrapes past his shoulder and latches on there. Bakugo can feel his eyes wandering downward, different definitions flexing under Charlie's eyes, his cock already hardening between his legs. Fuck.
He wants to blame it on the chalk completely, but that'd be a lie. Heat flushes across his cheek at that intrigued hum ghosting so close to his chin. No shit he knows what that acknowledgement is. Charlie's already seen it and he's enjoying it.]
Urusei... [Doesn't stop him from some kind of backtalk as the man nuzzles his head against his own, ashen spikes sticking into darker strands. Charlie's warm compared to the water pouring down on him. Skin to skin, touching in an intimate way.
Bakugo exhales shortly, forehead grinding into the shower wall the more Charlie's fingers explore his body. Over the arch of his pelvis, fingers splaying across the flat plane of his Adonis belt. Not quite there, but enough the bobbing head of his dick might bump against the back of Charlie's hand by proximity alone.
At least until he starts ascending, cut grooves and hills of Bakugo's abs hardening under his touch, breath hitching slightly when he parses over the flutter of his ribs. This guy's skilled in his touch. Probably some kind of medical background. But it feels good either way.] You're taking your damn time.
no subject
He wants to blame it on the chalk completely, but that'd be a lie. Heat flushes across his cheek at that intrigued hum ghosting so close to his chin. No shit he knows what that acknowledgement is. Charlie's already seen it and he's enjoying it.]
Urusei... [Doesn't stop him from some kind of backtalk as the man nuzzles his head against his own, ashen spikes sticking into darker strands. Charlie's warm compared to the water pouring down on him. Skin to skin, touching in an intimate way.
Bakugo exhales shortly, forehead grinding into the shower wall the more Charlie's fingers explore his body. Over the arch of his pelvis, fingers splaying across the flat plane of his Adonis belt. Not quite there, but enough the bobbing head of his dick might bump against the back of Charlie's hand by proximity alone.
At least until he starts ascending, cut grooves and hills of Bakugo's abs hardening under his touch, breath hitching slightly when he parses over the flutter of his ribs. This guy's skilled in his touch. Probably some kind of medical background. But it feels good either way.] You're taking your damn time.