💚🧡Bakudeku & Kirikami One Shots❤️💛

How To Make Out ~ Part 3

💚🧡

Requested by Nikolai1617

Interesting, fluffy, sorta-after-sexual-intercourse one-shot... A nice sequel idea that I fell in love with - thanks ^w^

AU:
Normal
Warnings:
Suggestive Content
Mentions of Alcohol

I've started school so... updates might be less regular...

[Katsuki's POV]

I was the first to wake up. The morning was humid, light pouring through the curtains and illuminating the bed I lay on. The flutter of a warm breeze brushes over my face, allowing me to feel the thin layer of sweat coating me and the body I curl into.

I don't quite remember how the events of last night had gone, but I did remember loosing my memory after having a drink. It was only a shot... or maybe two... but it was nothing that I couldn't handle! And I was still in control of myself but just...

Not the raging hormones that forced me to do what I... did.

But I remembered it feeling good, and every fibre in me hoped that he felt the same, or that he wouldn't storm away.

Great, now my anxiety is spiking.

Fears start to crowd my head. What if he thought that I was Icy Hot? What if he didn't really like it? What if he felt forced to do such a thing? What if he said no but I really was too drunk to notice?! Wh-What i-if I hurt him, or s-scared him?! What if I... r-ra-

I'm cut off by shuffling in my arms. The feeling of soft, naked skin rubs against my own, the messy head of green and black curls tilting back to reveal a closed pair of tired eyes, eyelashes curled against rounded and lightly-flushed cheeks. I crane my neck to watch him shuffle down, enough to press his ear against my chest, and he grumbles slightly before seeming to slip back into sleep.

I was cruel to even think of waking him up, but I felt obligated to - so much was on my mind, and I had to settle my doubts before they corrupt me.

"Zu?"

My voice was too gravelly from the events of last night and I miss syllables, using a name I was far from familiar with. I did like it - short and cute.

I jerk my arms a few times, mentally laughing at his groans of protest, his head pulling away from my chest so I could get a view of his half-lidded eyes, too shadowed for me to see their proper deciduous-green colour. His hands move to my chest to push me away and get me to stop, slipping sneakily against the muscle of my stomach. Even then, he was still trying to be subtle and flirty but, again, he was being messy, and too obvious.

"Still can't get enough of me?" I joke, the ghost of a smirk automatically pulling at the corner of my lips, "You sure you're up for another round?"

It seems like the events of last night had caught up to him and, suddenly, his eyes are snapped awake, displaying with them those notorious emeralds, face blossoming a dark red. I chuckle, only half-amused, the other half thinking about the past doubts and the increasing weight on my chest.

"Kacch-AA-an!"

If mine sounded bad, then his sounded much worse. His voice broke, hoarse and dry.

He hit puberty all over again!

Hands are playfully hitting against my chest, and the action caused my laughter to settle, as well as the pigmentation of his cheeks.

"G'mornin'," I say, when we'd both made eye contact.