#drawn on

“I need to practice for my art project, can I use you?” The redhead asked. “What?” Bakugou replied, utterly confused. “Don’t you have paper, shitty hair?” “Well, yeah, but I don’t wanna ruin my good art paper before I know what I wanna do!” Kirishima explained, slightly embarrassed. “Tch, fine shitty hair. Do whatever,” Bakugou relented, collapsing back onto his pillow. “Awesome, thanks bro!” Kirishima beamed. He carefully placed himself on top of Bakugou’s thighs, rolled up Bakugou’s shirt, and grabbed his pens and markers. He took his first pen and lightly touched down on Bakugou’s toned stomach, focusing on his sketch. Luckily for Bakugou, that meant that Kirishima didn’t notice Bakugou’s eyes practically bulging out of his head at the sensation. The pen tip was smooth and relentless, unlike anything he’d ever felt before. And FUCK it TICKLED. Kirishima was Bakugou’s best friend and the only one he allowed to come close enough to touch him. Bakugou hadn’t been tickled since he was really little; he’d honestly forgotten he even WAS ticklish. But fuck was that smooth pen gliding up and down his torso jogging his memory. Although, if he was more honest with himself than he wanted to be, what Kirishima was doing really didn’t feel all that bad. It was kinda nice. The only problem was keeping quiet so Kirishima wouldn’t notice.

That all changed when Kirishima started coloring. The felt tipped marker he was using tickled WAY more than the pen, and coupled with the consistency of Kirishima’s back and forth coloring motion Bakugou was DEAD. He jerked with a yelp before he began squirming for real. Kirishima looked up and saw Bakugou’s beat red face and strained smile and quickly put two and two together. His expression softened, but he decided to fake obliviousness for a little while longer. “Geez Bakubro, what’s got you all squirmy today?” he asked as he began coloring a very large shape at the bottom of Bakugou’s ribcage. “ngh, just, hurry uhup shihity hairr,” Bakugou strained, “I dohon’t have ahall day you kn-know.” Kirishima just chuckled and continued.

The biggest problem for Bakugou, was that the longer the tickle went on, the more ticklish it got. He was like a giggly bomb, destined to break if Kirishima’s incessant scribbling didn’t FUCKING STOP. When Kirishima scribbled the marker in Bakugou’s navel, Bakugou honest to god SQUEALED. With the damn broken, he collapsed back onto the bed in a fit of the SWEETEST giggles Kirishima had ever heard. “What’s the matter Bakubro? Ticklish?” Kirishima teased. And if he noticed how Bakugou barely fought back as he finished his picture, he never mentioned it.