( it's the tie that's caught in bakugou's hold, an immediate yank that has the material tightening--it tenses, grips, squeezes in at his throat, but the reaction is precisely what bakugou wanted to begin with; his weight pitches forward, a knee caught against the edge of the bed before it slides to catch him on the mattress. is this really doing it properly? agitated, his breath wheezes out for a moment before he can steady on one palm and one knee on the bed; it means that bakugou ends up crammed onto his back again as their lips touch--and it's such a foreign feeling that he almost wants to pull back again, tented down still by the grip of his tie.
it's not like it's an insult. who else would he have fucked around with before this? he can't fight the accusation, but it pisses him off anyway; his mouth fits harder into the kiss, forcing bakugou's head to the pillows, and the hand that isn't planted to the bed lifts so that he can peel bakugou's fingers back from around his tie. if he doesn't want to let go, then he's getting some of those fingers broken.
by the time he can really breathe again, it doesn't matter--his air's taken by the kiss instead, and when he tears back away from it, his hand's already loosening his tie, tugging and untangling the knot so that he can slip it apart and toss it aside. it doesn't necessarily bother him, but it's more to not give bakugou the means to yank him around again.
--which means he's also lifting up a hand to pull the band out of his hair; it collapses down around his face, curved around his ears, and he flicks the band onto the nightstand for somewhat dubious safe-keeping. )
You really just make out with anyone, here? ( softly, his eyes narrowed down at bakugou--the hand not holding himself up on his knees moves to slink down bakugou's shirt, already starting to tug it up from where it's tucked in, fumbling with buttons one-handed. ) No preference...?
( maybe that question betrays his mild curiosity, a little. )
no subject
it's not like it's an insult. who else would he have fucked around with before this? he can't fight the accusation, but it pisses him off anyway; his mouth fits harder into the kiss, forcing bakugou's head to the pillows, and the hand that isn't planted to the bed lifts so that he can peel bakugou's fingers back from around his tie. if he doesn't want to let go, then he's getting some of those fingers broken.
by the time he can really breathe again, it doesn't matter--his air's taken by the kiss instead, and when he tears back away from it, his hand's already loosening his tie, tugging and untangling the knot so that he can slip it apart and toss it aside. it doesn't necessarily bother him, but it's more to not give bakugou the means to yank him around again.
--which means he's also lifting up a hand to pull the band out of his hair; it collapses down around his face, curved around his ears, and he flicks the band onto the nightstand for somewhat dubious safe-keeping. )
You really just make out with anyone, here? ( softly, his eyes narrowed down at bakugou--the hand not holding himself up on his knees moves to slink down bakugou's shirt, already starting to tug it up from where it's tucked in, fumbling with buttons one-handed. ) No preference...?
( maybe that question betrays his mild curiosity, a little. )