Chapter 7: Dreams of Aftercare, Nightmares of Reality
Katsuki lays splayed on his bed. His body is tired and bruised and yet he is floating.
His mind wanders.
It sees sharp teeth and arresting red eyes.
Katsuki smiles.
He feels soft swollen lips caressing the bruises on his thighs. Lips that press firmer kisses onto his undamaged skin as hands reverently ghost over the deep bites on his chest. The tenderness of those hands offers just as much relief as the cooling gel they coat across his wounds. Relief for his body. A balm for his soul.
No. That's not right.
Everything still hurts.
I can't believe he abandoned me.
Fear spreads through his mind quicker than a wildfire. Sweat gushes from every pore in his body. He thought he was floating through the air but now he thinks he is floating in water. He can feel the liquid slosh underneath him when he moves.
I wish he was still here, Katsuki thinks, but his eyes widen and his body trembles when he realises he doesn't really know if he means Deku or Kirishima.
There is sweat on his palms. He can smell the scent of burning. His chest is aflame. What happened to the water? Why isn't it putting this raging inferno out? Katsuki has never felt heat like this before. Is this what other people experience when exposed to his explosions?
Kirishima would still be here.
He would care for him. Care about him.
He imagines Kirishima's strong arms embracing him. Their bodies sated after consummating their love, loose and lax as they basked in the afterglow.
Katsuki imagines thick fingers stroking his hair. Hears murmured words in his ear between the quick chaste kisses peppering his collarbones.
Whispers of "you're so beautiful," "I've got you," and "how did I get so lucky?"
Katsuki hears these words and feels worthy.
He imagines the deep timbre of his voice. Telling him how good Katsuki was for him, how manly he was and how happy it made him. Telling him he loves him and oh – a tear escapes from Katsuki's eye at the thought.
They'd lie together for an indeterminable amount of time until Katsuki realized he was missing the feeling of being enveloped in Kirishima's warmth.
Breathe.
Katsuki would encase his sudden overwhelming loneliness with a shroud of calm. He would be able to do so because he knows without a shadow of a doubt that Kirishima will always return.
Breathe.
The unexpected sensation of a damp washcloth on his stomach would startle Katsuki.
"Shhh" Kirishima would say, instantly stilling. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you jump. Is it okay if I clean you up?"
Katsuki thinks his tongue might feel heavy but he knows it wouldn't matter if he took too long to respond. A smile on his face, Kirishima would wait patiently for Katsuki to relax again.
"If you can't talk right now just blink twice for yes."
And Katsuki would blink twice, giving his permission for Kirishima to continue.
"So good for me Kat" He would whisper reverently as he used the washcloth, "I love you so much."
Perhaps he'd be so relaxed from Kirishima's ministrations that he would just fall into a light doze. At intervals when he felt closer to wakefulness than sleep he would become aware his skin was no longer sticky, that a warm body was pressed against him under weighted blankets.
He would feel so safe and warm…
The sound of fingernails dragging down a blackboard or knives scratching over glass assaults Katsuki's ears. It brings Katsuki's mind back to the present.
Feelings of confusion and insecurity wash over him. Forcibly trying to compose himself, Katsuki swallows. He feels thirsty. There is also a pounding at his temples and he feels dizzy and sick like he's hungover.
Katsuki wants to escape but he is too tired to move. However, he doesn't understand why his body feels so utterly exhausted. The events of the night had hardly physically exerted him – he had barely moved. The dull ache around Katsuki's wrists and ankles serve as a reminder of how exactly Deku had made sure of that.
Every throb in his ass reminds him how good it felt. How badly he wanted it. How shamefully he submitted to Deku. How pathetic he must have looked as he begged.
Humiliation prickles under his skin. It feels like there are thousands of insects skittering under the surface. And they're hot. So hot. Burning him from the inside out. He scratches. His short blunt nails drag over his skin. Or are those Deku's hands?
Katsuki never wants to think about Deku ever again.
He wants to cry. He thinks he does. He knows he does. He's no longer sure if he does.
Again, he thinks he hears the screech of fingernails dragging down a blackboard.
Katsuki rolls over, pressing his face into the mattress.
Author's Notes: As you can tell, I decided to keep the lemons, so I wanted to include a reminder (in case this fanfic is ever deleted) that I also crosspost on Archive of our Own under the same name and can also be found on Twitter.
Thanks so much to everyone still reading and supporting this story :)