A/N: Written for my good friend Emily's 16th birthday! Sort of a crack fic. Also sort of body horror, not sure if it really qualifies. Originally published June 2013.
Byakuya Togami had heard the phrase "shoved her tongue down his throat" before, and similar phrases, but had always assumed them to be hyperbolic. In addition, he had never seriously considered that the phrase might ever apply to him.
He dearly wished that this was still the case.
The six of them had moved to another hideout just yesterday, and were settling in once more. Togami had made vague noises as to his plans to investigate his family home, but found himself reluctant to follow through on them just yet. He had been quick to claim a room for himself; the last hideout had not allowed for any private spaces to speak of. This morning, he had retired to his room to read and appreciate not spending every waking (and sleeping) moment in the company of the same 5 other people.
Of course, there was much silence and solitude to be found here, in this new Monoworld. Togami grimaced at the thought of it. The world was not irreparable, especially not with the heir to the Togami Conglomerate working to fix it, but so much had been lost. Togami was not one to be ensnared by grief, but he found himself bitterly grieving, a little, for all that humanity had lost to the whims of two despairing sisters.
He allowed himself a moment more to reflect on this, then moved on to the situation at hand. Their last hideout had been a one room basement: sizable, but still lacking in privacy. Their current hideout was the basement level of an apartment complex, so in that sense their locale was the same, but in this case there were separate rooms - and bedrooms, at that. No need to scrounge up blankets and pillows from who knows where, and they even had mattresses.
"Practically the lap of luxury," Togami muttered, before laughing bitterly. The room he had claimed was about the size of his old bedroom's closet, smaller even than the bedroom he had suffered while at Hope's Peak. The walls were drab, a faded cream color. Everything seemed faded out here, really.
Togami abruptly decided that solitude was not what he desired after all, and had just stood up to rectify this when someone knocked at his door.
Not a little surprised, Togami called out, "Enter."
It was Syo - Syo, who slipped inside and softly shut the door once more, Syo who licked her lips and giggled alarmingly. Togami had previously determined that despite her past record, Syo probably didn't want to kill him - probably - but he felt a trickle of fear trail down his spine, knowing that they were quite alone, and accurately predicting the behavior of a serial killer might be impossible.
Togami opened his mouth to speak, and discovered just how quickly Syo could move. Within seconds she stood before him, her face merely an inch from his, and he only had an instant to view her salacious grin before her lips were on his.
Then he had only a moment to think about how he should have expected this before she quite literally stuck her tongue down his throat, wiping away any slight possibility that might have existed of his enjoying this experience. Her warm, red tongue was sliding down his throat, filling it up and oh god why, ack aacckk get it out get it out.
It was all he could do not to chomp down on her tongue; as it was, he shoved her away from him and gasped for air, massaging his throat.
"Oooh, so he does have a gag reflex!" giggled Syo, and she took a step closer to him. It then abruptly occurred to him that a displeased Syo might well mean a dead Togami, and he moved the fastest he had all day: he reached into his pocket and threw a pinch of pepper into Syo's face.
As he watched Syo sneeze it also occurred to him that he deeply hated his life and the awful comedy it was turning out to be.
Fukawa blinked down at him, at him on his knees, trying not to vomit from the memory of a tongue at the base of his throat, with a pocketful of pepper he had liberated from their last hideout and an unfortunately hoarse voice.
"Water," he demanded, and to his extreme gratefulness, she complied without asking any questions, or indeed saying a word.
The dream he had that night was, without a doubt, the most terrifying dream he'd ever had. He'd had his fair share of nightmares, of course, just like the rest of Hope's Peak's survivors; most of them involved him waking up to Monobear's morning announcements, or otherwise finding himself still in that travesty of a school. Those dreams... didn't quite compare.
He dreamed he could feel his tongue unsticking from his throat with a distinct pop, felt it slithering out, longer than any tongue had a right to be, felt his tongue slobbering over his chin and realized he was fully capable of licking his own eyeballs, and he screamed, scrabbling at his tongue because this was not right not right -
He awoke to a splash of cold water in his face and the distinct realization that his tongue was bleeding. Fukawa sat at his bedside, holding the cup responsible for his awakening, and upon his looking at her she began to babble. "Byakuya-sama, I am sorry, sorry - if you are displeased - I - you were thrashing -"
"Shut up," Togami snapped. He took a deep breath to steady himself. Evidently, he hadn't disrupted the sleep of any of the others, because if he had they would without doubt be here as well. He wasn't sure if he would have preferred that.
"Some water would be... appreciated," he said, trying not to let on how unnerved he was. Fukawa scurried off, and he glanced around once more before giving in and sticking his tongue out, as far as it could go.
To his deeply embarrassing relief, it couldn't even touch the tip of his nose, and he withdrew his tongue just as Fukawa reentered the room. He took the water and gulped it down, trying to wash out the taste of blood and assuage the phantom sensation of a tongue at the back of his throat.
"Byakuya-sama," whispered Fukawa. It was dreadful o'clock in the morning, and while Togami could not be certain, he had the deep suspicion that today was a Monday.
He took one look at Fukawa's sad, sorry eyes and abruptly felt very tired. "Just get in," he said shortly, flopping back on the bed. The mattress wasn't huge, but it could fit two teenagers easily. To them, this was the lap of luxury, and wasn't that just pitiful?
It seemed to take Fukawa a moment to process his words, which was almost surprising considering how often she used him as a pillow. When she did, however, she slid into his bed easily, wrapping the covers around them and cuddling up to his chest. He slept on his side, as always, and she carefully wrapped an arm around him, like he was something to be treasured.
Fukawa was out like a light, and when he managed to drift off to sleep, he did not dream. In fact, he did not dream until a few days later, when out of the corner of his eye he spotted Syo, lewdly waggling her tongue at him. He shuddered, and refused to answer Naegi when he asked what was wrong. Some things really didn't need to be spoken of.