.sleepover
@ua-katsuki
Bakugou doesn't make it very far before he has to stop suddenly somewhere in the middle of the corridor, his eyes stinging with fresh tears that he quickly moves to wipe away. He mutters several choice words under his breath, cursing at himself for being so stupid as to come to this sleepover in the first place.
Just his luck. It figures that he would be there, that Bakugou would have to watch him kiss someone else again... And then Monoma...
Shit! Bakugou leans his still-aching forehead against the wall and takes a few long, shuddering breaths as he attempts to regain his composure. The last thing he wants is for someone to see him like this, acting this pathetic. Monoma feels lucky he's able to catch up. He slows to a stop, breath huffing out of him as he nears where Bakugou has stopped, frowning before he takes another slow, quiet step towards him.
"... Bakugou-kun..." he says softly, carefully, about to reach towards him before he thinks against it and instead just stands there, fidgeting with the offending bottle still clutched in his hands. "... I'm... ugh, sorry. I didn't think any of this stupid sleepover bullshit was gonna upset you so much, otherwise I would've..."
He pauses, then frowns. "... Do you want me to leave you alone...?"
"I hate this," Bakugou says, not even surprised he's been found at this point. Considering his luck today... It was bound to happen.
He lowers his arms and presses his forehead further against the wall. "Whatever. It doesn't matter. You... It doesn't matter for you. You kiss everyone, so it doesn't matter, but..." He grimaces. "Him. Again. He never leaves my damn life, does he?" Monoma fidgets again, frowning. "I guess not... That's kind of how it is with childhood friends, isn't it...?" He sighs out, daring to come a little closer, until he was leaning against the wall besides him. "Hey... You had to of known you'd see him eventually... And it's not like any of that mattered. It was just for a game, and..."
He makes a face, repeating Bakugou's words in his head. "Y'know, it does matter to me... sometimes. Occasionally," he says, trying to lighten the mood with a little joke. After another moment, he gives Bakugou's shoulder a little nudge. "Hey. C'mon. At least look at me when I'm trying to comfort you..." Bakugou sighs and lifts his head, looking at Monoma. "I'm wasting my time," he says at last, and wipes his eyes once more. "I was supposed to be doing better, going to sleep at my normal time and focusing more on my work... but he's always there. Everywhere. And Mystery, too, an insistent whisper in my ear, taunting me."
"It shouldn't matter to me," he continues after some more thought, turning, "but it does. It fucking sucks."
Monoma flinches at that, an awful little chill rising up his spine at the mention of Mystery. Suddenly the hallway seems cold and uncomfortable, and he finds himself unconsciously getting closer to try and soothe himself with Bakugou's warmth.
"... I know it sucks. I'm sorry," he mumbles out, frowning at the tears. He reaches out to touch his face, wiping away any of the spare wetness that Bakugou has missed, before his thumb just softly caresses his cheek. "... Hey..." he whispers out before he leans forward, pressing a careful kiss to his lips.
Bakugou is instantly receptive, his hands moving to lightly grasp Monoma's arms. He briefly wonders when something like this had become the norm, how kissing Monoma has gone from a foreign concept to something familiar, worthwhile. How he's stupid enough to have grown used to doing this, and how disgusted with himself for it.
None of this... None of this is what he wanted. He never wanted the constricting feeling in his chest or the unrecognizable sensation that rose within him when he saw Deku again... Stupid. Stupid. Becoming distracted again when I should be focusing on hero work.
He isn't sure how long he's been kissing Monoma, only able to familiarize the softness at which Monoma's lips meet his. Cautious. Light. Shaking, Bakugou realizes that isn't what he wants, either.
"Stop being so gentle," he snaps, suddenly angry. "I'm not made of glass. I'm not going to break."
Monoma's patience already felt so thin at the start of all this, after all that's happened in the last hour. Having Bakugou snapping at him definitely didn't help. Gritting his teeth, he slaps off the hands that are still clutching onto him, fixing a glare onto him, eyes shiny with conflicted pain.
"Yes. You are," Monoma snaps before he gives him a little shove. "You are breaking, you fucking idiot. We all are. You think this would be happening if we weren't? You think any of this would be happening if any of us were in our right fucking minds for once...!?"
Now he feels like crying. It's all welling up inside him fast, everything he's been trying to shove down and pretend didn't exist for what seemed like years now. He's breathing fast now, hand curling into a fist. "You couldn't handle me if I was anything but gentle," he says bitterly, vision blurring with his anger. "Idiot. Fucking idiot." His hands clutch onto his collar, and then he yanks him forward again, his lips crashing into Bakugou's in a rough, biting kiss, more teeth than anything else.
Bakugou is definitely certain that he doesn't appreciate being snapped at in return. His rage boils over inside him as he tenses and readies a response — maybe to call Monoma a coward or something else, or maybe to simply shout a farewell and then turn on his heels and leave — but is cut short of doing so at being kissed again, this time rougher. Harder.
Yes, this is exactly what he wanted. Kissing Monoma in return, Bakugou grabs Monoma's arm again and brings him closer, wanting more. More. Anything. This is fine, if only for a moment... As long as he's allowed to pretend, to trick his own brain for at least a second...
He's absolutely desperate as he kisses Monoma, holding him and returning the kiss as best he can — which, admittedly, isn't much, considering the little experience he's had thus far. Especially considering he's never been kissed this roughly, has even kissed anyone this roughly... and there's something absolutely euphoric about it that has him craving it more.
Anything. Anything. ...because, once it's over, he's not sure how much longer he's going to be able to hold on for. Standing on the edge, he can see himself looking out into the abyss below, an empty thing that coos and beckons him to just give up, to just give in...
Not yet.
... It's infuriating. He's so sick of this, of him. Of whatever fucking game they've been playing.
He hates him. Above all else. Trying to pretend otherwise was sick.
This... This was right.
Enough of the tender treatment, enough of being gentle, enough of trying to act like he could only guess someone else would. Monoma kisses him hard, violently, hands digging into his hair and pulling and yanking, tongue diving in deep when he wasn't nicking at his lip with his teeth. Fury wells up inside him, simmering hot under his skin. He could practically feel Bakugou's own as he touches him. He could practically taste it. His hands lower, over his chest, over his torso, sneaking under the hem of his shirt to touch warm skin and dig in with his nails. He wasn't going to make him bleed, of course not, but he wants to come close. He wants to see just how much Bakugou would let him do.
With the smallest little growling groan in the back of his throat, Monoma drags his mouth off Bakugou's to dive for his neck, attacking it with a hard, bruising bite. He's probably going too far and he doesn't care. He's tired of Bakugou calling the shots. Tired of Bakugou pulling him in and shoving himself away every single time. Tired of himself for being so easily dragged into this cycle, all because he wanted... he wanted...
He forces the thought away, and relishes the feeling of his teeth, unfortunately as dull as ever, sinking into Bakugou's throat.
Bakugou grits his teeth, letting out a sound he hadn't even known he was capable as Monoma's teeth dig into his throat and yes, yes there's something about this that feels so right, so amazing and spectacular and overwhelming all at once. He's never been touched this way before, treated this way before...
Still. There's something that's settled in the back of Bakugou's mind, an insistent mantra of thought — Don't do that — that has him suddenly shoving hard on Monoma's chest and shoving him away, not caring how hard he's done it or if he's hurt him or... No. No. He's not doing this today.
Subconsciously, he touches the spot that had been bitten into. Then, glaring at Monoma, he snaps, "I didn't mean it like that. God, can't you do anything right?" He winces, hating that, for a second, he had actually been considering... that. Absolutely not. He shakes his head. "You idiot. Did you really think I was going to be that easy?"
He's shaking with rage and doesn't even know why. Just a minute ago Monoma had been trying to comfort him, but he... Bakugou was the one that tempted him, tried to pry him for a little more.
Out of what, though? Revenge for what Deku did? Desperation? The sudden need to forget everything that's been happening?
Regardless, this isn't what Bakugou had wanted at all. Not even close. "Damn it, just die already!”
If it hurt (and it did) he didn't notice. Monoma stumbles back with a cruel sound leaving him, an icy laugh falling from his mouth as he wipes at it with the back of his hand. That's... exactly what he wanted. No. It's exactly what he thought would happen. There's something satisfying in being right, even if it's painful. Maybe even especially so.
Watching him touch the little mark he's left, Monoma only sneers, delirious giggle burbling up from him as he meets his eyes and feels the weight of his glare boring in. Every word that leaves Bakugou's mouth slices at him. "Uh huh," he only says simply, because of course he can't do anything right. "Mhm," he utters, because of course Bakugou wasn't as easy and malleable as him. "Sure," he agrees, because he might as well. He might as fucking well.
Letting out a snort, he only tosses his hair from his face before fixing a glower of his own onto him. "What would you do once I'm dead though, hm, Bakugou-kun?" he hisses, every syllable deliberate and slow. "Your first punching bag has already left you. What are you going to do without me? You'd shatter without me holding you together. Admit it. Bastard." He grits his teeth, turning his face away. "There's only so many times you can try and push someone away before they get sick of it and leave you. Do you want me to leave? Because I will."
His shoulders hunch, fists starting to clench, because suddenly the thought is anguishing. Suddenly he regrets everything that's left his mouth, but he needs... he needs to hear Bakugou's answer. "I don't have to do any of this anymore," he adds quietly, voice shaking. "... If you don't want me to." Bakugou, who's head has been lowered the entire time Monoma speaks, begins to shake with visible rage, hissing through his teeth and curling and uncurling his fingers as he desperately attempts to clutch onto the last remaning bits of his sanity — then, promptly, he turns and raises his fist, slamming it into the wall. He can tell he's bruised his knuckles — maybe worse — on contact, but he can't feel it anymore. It doesn't matter.
He gnashes his teeth, seething because, in a way, Monoma is right. If Monoma chooses to leave... Fine. There's nothing he can really do about that, he knows, if it winds up being Monoma's own decision, but... Beginning to rub his knuckles subconsciously, he knows very well that, should that happen, he definitely wouldn't be able to handle it.
How would that even be possible, having to live with the thought that he's not good enough for anyone to want to stay? That he hasn't done what he should, that he isn't able to administer proper care to another person, much less himself? But... since when has he considered caring about someone else in such a sense?
Pathetic. How much he'd less his guard down, how soft he'd allowed himself to become since starting his relationship with Deku. One person, being able to do such a thing to him... it shouldn't be possible. It isn't right.
"Fine," he snaps. "Leave if you want. Do whatever the fuck you want. I don't care anymore. It's none of my business, anyway." God, he hates how his voice cracks at that last part, the tears that begin to blur his vision feeling hot and painful. "I'll figure something else out. This isn't what should matter to me, anyway." "..."
Monoma shakes his head, all the emotion inside him crumbling into a thick dust. "You're an idiot," he says again softly, ignoring his rage. That was really the only way any of this could continue to work, if he just... ignored it, and kept ignoring what was so obviously wrong. So he did, reaching out and taking Bakugou's hand as he rubbed it, being not so careful as he presses a thumb against his knuckles to make sure he hasn't broken his hand in any way.
"Yeah. It's not what should matter, but it does," he replies shortly. "Or it doesn't. Whatever." He sighs, dropping his hand and touching his face again. He doesn't care if Bakugou pushes him away again. He wipes away the first tear he sees, then kisses him, as gently and as carefully as he wants to.
"... It wouldn't kill you to just... answer the question properly," he mutters as he pulls away quickly. He'd only held the kiss for as long as he figured it took for him to get the point across. He wasn't leaving. There wasn't a chance of it.
"... I don't want you alone tonight," he continues. "Come back to my room with me? Nothing will happen," he insists. "I just... want to make sure you actually sleep. You're kind of bad at that without me, heh..." Bakugou is unresponsive in regards the kiss, lost in his own train of thought. His mind is racing, knotted, an meaningless tangle that can't be undone. When Monoma pulls away Bakugou merely lets out a breath through his nose, stares down at his now-aching knuckles.
"Do you want me to leave?" Choosing to brush that question aside for the time being, Bakugou lowers his gaze to the floor and grunts.
"Fine," he says, not caring. It doesn't make a difference to him either way, going back to his room or staying in Monoma's. Whatever happens... he's sure he would deserve the results either way. For letting his guard down. For being upset this easily. "It's past curfew, anyway."
He doesn't want for Monoma to respond. Pushing past him, he begins to head into the direction of his room. Empty again. His fingers brush the spot that had been bitten once again and, briefly, he wonders where he has gone wrong an umpteenth time before his legs are moving robotically, taking him to the bed.
He collapses and sleep is surprisingly easy in spite of everything. In spite of what had just happened, the break up, other people being in the room... Everything. Shockingly, Bakugou doesn't see it as such a bad thing. Monoma just watches him for a moment before he follows after him as they return to the party. The colorful brand of chaos that was residing within his room hadn't seemed to have settled any. Relieved yet frustrated, he returns to his place, trying his best to muster up some facade of being alright again up, though it's hard. He can feel where Bakugou is in the room. His presence radiates, beckoning, insistent.
He ignores him. He gets back to the game. He deals with what he has to deal with, chased this way and that, pulled in all directions as what was quickly becoming common nowadays.
Eventually, it all settles. Everyone sleeps in a heap on his floor. He's the only one awake, squinting tiredly at his phone from where he sits, aching and craving. There's nothing left for him to do but hate himself, more than a little bit. He thinks about the people who aren't here in the room with him right now and takes a moment to miss every single one. He thinks about every impulse he's indulged himself on that night and spends a few seconds berating himself for those too. Stupid. All of it was stupid.
What was he even doing...
"..."
There was a warm body on his bed, still. Monoma stands up and moves to sit on the edge of the mattress, staring down at Bakugou's sleeping form. It's the only time he looks peaceful, when he's knocked out like this. He wonders what he's dreaming about, if anything. He wonders if he regrets this as much as Monoma can't bring himself to. Reaching out, he pets his hair a little. It was soft, as always...
"..." He sighs, his heart twisting in his chest. Quietly, he gets into bed with him, curling onto his body and wishing the warmth leaving him could somehow serve to soothe away the hurt building up in him. It doesn't, but, at this point, he's too tired to try anything else.
... They'll just have to deal with it all in the morning