ii.
At the Point of Ignition
"The moments so illusive, hangs heavy on our head."
Ochako wiggled, bringing Bakugo even closer to herself as gently as possible so she could reach over his neck to feel her left arm. She couldn't get down the entire length of it, but what she managed to map out seemed whole enough.
There didn't seem to be and tell-tale wetness at least.
An awful sensation rippled down her left arm once more as she attempted to flex, and the gravity girl discovered a mound of bricks and rock was compressing her upper arm to the floor. It was a small relief to realize her arm just lacked blood, and wasn't broken or in fact missing altogether.
Bakugo stirred above her, she could almost feel the scowl forming on his face as her right arm abandoned her left in favor of giving said boy some breathing room. Well, metaphorical breathing room.
"What the fuck Round Face." This time she definitely felt his mouth shape the words into her neck.
Ochako held in a squeak like it might kill her if she let it out, determined to hide her completely out of place reactions. She floundered for something to say for about as long as it took for reality to reassert itself. Coincidentally, it wasn't very long considering how agonizingly uncomfortable she was.
"How deep is the puncture?" She went for the throat of the situation, trying to glean what information she could pry out of the notoriously tight-lipped boy. At least concerning his own well being.
She wasn't sure how long he'd be conscious for, she knew if it was her with a hole in her back she'd probably be solidly out- but this was Bakugo so of course he was managing. Somehow.
He grunted at her, and she felt it reverberate through his chest and into hers.
Her brain decided that this was a fantastic time to realize her ample breasts were pressed flat to his muscular chest.
God damn her teenage hormones.
"Deep enough." Was his eventual reply, she had to actually concentrate to remember what she had even asked.
The oxygen must be getting pretty thin. Yeah, that was definitely it.
A soft, hysterical giggle seeped from her lips that left her oddly breathless, and suddenly her justifications didn't seem so much like justifications as they seemed like reality. Her heart thumped against her ribs, she could feel her pulse in her left arm- needles stabbing the muscles and make her eyes tear up in frustration. Her leg kicked at nothing, a horrid jerking motion that reminded her of restless nights in bed when she was unable to sleep from all the stress.
She could feel Bakugo's own heart beating in his chest, a rapid tempo speeding up to match hers.
Ochako started tugging on her left arm in earnest, once again feeling too cramped, the space too small, Katsuki's skin was way too hot and the air was so thin…
Panic welled in her like a lost but not forgotten spring.
Bakugo clenched his jaw, the tale told by a jump in his cheek muscles and his teeth fitting together in a frustrated clack. The next thing she knew his hands were slowly, carefully trailing up her sides to catch her face in his overheated, sweaty palms.
Like a daydream time seemed to slow, her whole universe revolving around that singular point of contact. Her eyes widened in the dark, the pads of his thumbs swept just beneath her eyes and she felt it as he started counting his breathes once more.
Three in, hold two, four out.
She followed his lead, breathing in tandem for what felt like an eternity and the practice had her breath coming in just a little bit easier. Her legs stilled, whole body one big aching, tired mass.
His thumbs slowed and she got the sense from him that, buried under gods-only-know how much rock and building, slowly suffocating to death, while he bled out on top of her- that he had done it on purpose.
To calm her down.
He always had been terrible at talking.
His chest rumbled again, some unknown sound trapped there that never left his lips and the length of his body relaxed once more, his forehead dropping back into the curve of her neck.
"This fucking sucks." He admitted, and she couldn't help but agree, except…
"At least you aren't alone." And what she meant was: at least I'm not alone, but she'd said what she said and now she had to own it.
"Tch." His lip curled, and she knew what was coming the moment the words had left her mouth.
Except, they didn't. He didn't say anything. Ochako mentally flailed, reaching for something to fill the sudden gap because this felt like the last moment in her existence that she ever wanted Katsuki to not fit into the Bakugo shaped box in head and why the hell did she keep calling him Katsuki.
"There's more space at our feet, if I can unpin my arm, I might be able to slide past you and then we can get that rebar out. I have some supplies in my belt, I don't know how deep the puncture goes so it might be better if we just wait-" Her rambling cut off when his thumbs swiped purposefully once more across her cheeks. His skin was rough, calloused, both his hands and her cheeks were caked in filth. They were both in pain and she was mentally straining to stay calm, trapped underground in the dark and yet-
And yet-
The gesture was violently intimate despite the circumstances.
She swallowed, falling silent immediately. He exhaled heavily into her neck.
"Okay." The grunt of acknowledgement just barely registered, her mind completely wrapped around every point of contact between them and his fingers were still stroking her face.
"Okay." She parroted, and the next thing she knew his right palm had left her cheek, the skin now oddly cold as his fingers searched down her left arm in the impenetrable darkness.
"I can't move all of it." His voice was uncharacteristically soft in her ear as he mapped out the rocks and broken concrete that held her arm down. "I don't want to risk any of this shit being weight bearing."
"Your quirk-" She started thoughtlessly.
"Shut the fuck up if you don't have anything of value to input Uraraka." He decapitated her statement with the most ferocity she'd gotten out of him in… however long they'd been here.
She wasn't actually sure.
He coughed again, hacking against her skin in a motion she should probably find gross but here, buried in what could possibly be their grave all she could muster was concern.
Concern she was positive he didn't want or need. Ochako kept her mouth shut.
The sound of rocks shifting filled the silence, his muscles contracting and flexing against her as he held his weight with his left elbow, that palm still against her face like he thought letting go would be some terrible metaphor.
"Try it now." He murmured, sounding tired. She jolted her shoulder, a scraping sensation alighting along her forearm and she couldn't help the hiss that left from between her clenched teeth.
"What now?" He rumbled, but she could feel from their proximity the way he was already feeling out the rubble for whatever had disturbed her.
"Something sharp." She told him, and just when the words had left her mouth there was a crunch, another swift pinch against her skin and the slide of glass across the ground.
"Got it." He exhaled. Ochako moved her shoulder, elbow bending in towards her body and the arm followed in and away from the small amount of space Bakugo had created in order for her to escape.
AN: Fun fact, all of the beginning quotes are by the same band, from the same song, which is of course the title of this fic. I'm sorry the chapters are so short, it just sort of ended up this way. I hope you guys like it so far? More to come, please review if you'd like.
TBC