At the Point of Ignition
"Woken up like an animal, I'm all ready for healing. My mind's lost with nightmares streaming. Woken up (Kicking and screaming)"
He was in and out often, body overheated and by far the most useless he'd recalled himself feeling since he had watched All-Might battle All For One like a limp fucking noodle over a year prior. The surge of irritation and the potent, heavy frustration that followed every time he came around enough to sew together a decent thought was almost enough to put him right back out.
Uraraka took the reins, and he had to let her as loath as he was to do it. He figured, if anything, at least it wasn't that shit stain Deku. He could do a lot worse than Uraraka Ochako.
He revised this thought somewhere between one agony-filled blackout and the next when a string of events tried his paper thin patience, the only thing keeping him from erupting into the usual white-hot verbal fire was the delirium that chased his every waking thought.
It started, of course, with Uraraka losing her shit. She jerked on her own limbs, her breath came in harsh, heavy pants that tailed the end of an unmistakably hysterical laugh.
Katsuki, despite his revolving door awareness, knew this was trouble for a myriad of reasons. The foremost being that if she didn't calm the fuck down she was going to exacerbate his already heavily bleeding shoulder. The second being the long-term results of this misadventure. He needed her to keep it together, he needed her to bring out that side of her personality that had faced him during their first sports festival, fierce and determined.
Because if she lost her shit, and she fell apart on him, then… well.
In a rare moment of self-awareness he kept his fat mouth shut, maneuvering his weight and hands in a heretofore undisplayed capacity for delicacy. He cupped her cheeks in his palms, and of all the things he hadn't bothered to expect out of the action, deriving his own sense of comfort from it had definitely never hit the table- but here he was.
He breathed a weighty sigh into her neck, a strange feeling settling in his chest like a contented cat when she copied his careful breaths without prompting. He felt oddly… validated; acknowledged- and he hadn't even needed to say anything to nudge her in the right direction.
She followed his lead; no yelling, no explosions required, and yeah, that felt good. Almost as good as it felt to have the soft skin of her features pressed into the heat of his rough palms. Almost as good as it felt when she unabashedly leaned into his touch. His heartbeat stuttered in his chest and fuck this really wasn't the time.
The feeling of content was quickly chased away with ever familiar frustration. Frustration at himself for allowing his feelings to go down this path, and then the frustration was promptly amplified two fold because why the fuck couldn't he just let himself have this.
It was, statistically speaking, highly unlikely that they would be making it out of this alive. Of all the situations he had found himself in over the course of his life this one had to be worth at least one minute of quiet, untainted comfort derived from another human being.
But in the end, he wouldn't be Bakugo Katsuki if it didn't piss him off for wanting it, for having it without meaning to.
The self-loathing nipped at the heels of this thought, ugly, cruel, unfair, and entirely of his own making.
"This fucking sucks." The words jumbled from his mouth, much the way he usually spoke- without really thinking about it first.
"At least you aren't alone." He tensed at her words; a shocked stillness overcoming his fevered mind and for a moment he wondered if she had some kind of mind-reading quirk.
Stupid. He lashed himself with gritted teeth. You know she doesn't.
He should have probably said something, probably bothered to hiss ugly words in her ear but he found himself either unwilling or unable. He decided not to care before finding yet another reason to rile himself up.
Uraraka started to ramble, nervous tinged words that spilled from feather-soft lips and the sound of her voice grated on his already raw nerves.
His palms shifted without his permission, a gentle swipe of each thumb across the textured plains of her cheek bones, and blessed silence followed the action.
That in itself was a reward, and he grasped the excuse to do it again like a drowning man to a raft. He let himself enjoy it guiltlessly this time, despite his own awareness of the fact that he kept touching Uraraka because he wanted to- because he liked it.
He heard himself acknowledge her, a sense of calm dulling the pain of his punctured shoulder blade and burning skin. It wasn't much, but it was enough.
It was then that he registered what she'd even said. If he'd had the energy he might have laughed at the situation. She needed to crawl down the length of his body, and she'd said it like it was just… nothing. No big deal.
Was he the only one overthinking this or…?
Fucking hell get a grip, she's just doing what needs to be done.
"Oh." The sound of startled realization left her lips, and some part of him was immediately relieved that what she was about to do didn't leave her entirely cold. Why that pleased him, he wasn't actually sure; but Katsuki decided he'd bother with making a mountain out of that mole hill later.
"There it is." He heard himself mutter, and damn if he wasn't so out of energy he couldn't even muster feeling pissed off about this- muttering under his breath like that ass hole Deku. What the fuck was even happening right now?
Uraraka was still talking, her hands were everywhere and fuck her fucking fingers were fridged.
Her skin ghosted across his. His shoulders, arms, back. Her legs ran up the length of his side as she looked for purchase against the uneven ground.
It was fucking torture.
And as these things are, of course it only got worse for him, because she had to stop halfway down, her chubby fucking cheek pressed into his abdomen and her ample breasts squashed into…
Fuck, shit, piss, god fucking damn it!
His brain blacked out for an entirely different reason, and he found himself snarling at her to hurry the fuck up!
She snapped back, because this was Uraraka and she didn't take his shitty attitude laying down-
Or- well.
When she hesitated half way through her stuttering he already knew what she was going ask and he prepped himself; shoulders tensing for the oncoming pain.
"Yeah." He agreed to move, because it wasn't really like he had a choice anyways.
Katsuki was not proud to admit the moment he adjusted his weight, an undetermined stretch of time was lost to him afterwards.
Stars burst behind his eyes; colours bright and vivid, whole nebulas winking in and out of existence and Katsuki was fucking out like an acid trip gone wrong. The next thing he knew Round Face had him pinned to a wall and the building that was their prison was devolving into their coffin.
Katsuki's skin was ablaze, his breath came in harsh pants that sucked in chalk dust and drywall as the ground quaked, rumbling like an insatiable monster.
His palms exploded, accelerant dripping from his sweat soaked skin in a torrent of uncontrolled fever haze. Uraraka shrieked, and there was enough of him left to recognize the difference between a scream of fright and a scream of pain.
No. No, he couldn't have- he wouldn't- he was better than that-
Katsuki sputtered in and out like waves lapping at the shore. Here and there and gone before a sentence could be considered complete. He turned their bodies, giving into the instinct to shield her from the fuckall situation he knew they had no hope of escaping. He could hardly think, his thoughts a scrambled mess and layered over even that there was the fear. Thick and cloying like smoke, thicker than the fumes his quirk gave off before he'd learned to control it as a kid. Katsuki did not like being afraid, but his usual turn to fury never happened; an ugly fissure in his head- a disconnect that left him gaping like a fish on land.
His mind tumbled down the rabbit hole.
Katsuki thought maybe words were falling from his mouth. Soft, careful things he'd never said aloud in his entire life but had always thought he'd have the chance to say someday. It hadn't ever mattered. There had always been more time, time enough to build things he didn't have time for right now. He wasn't even a licenced hero yet.
So he said them now for Uraraka, their meanings and distinctions lost entirely in the sheik of metal and the groan of rumbling earth.
Fuck. They were out of time.
His vision of nothing rolled, the world spun in a fevered dream- a fucking nightmare more like, and his fingers were coiled so tightly into Uraraka's hair it was no surprise she was sobbing into his chest.
He left somewhere, came back and left again, a soft, distressed creature in his arms all the while.
He was drowning in full body pain and he knew they were about to die and for the first time in his life all he could muster was regret.
Katsuki regretted a lot of fucking things right now.
Then her voice, straight and true, sharp and piercing, sliced through everything in his head and he was helpless but to obey.
"Katsuki! Blow it up!" Her freezing cold hand was tight around his wrist, pressing it flat onto the ground and he didn't hesitate for a second.
He'd follow her to fucking hell if she demanded it of him in a tone like that.
Hopefully that's not what she intended this time.
AN: Hey y'all. Just a couple things real quick-
This is the last of Bakugo's POV, I did seriously consider combining this chapter and the last one but I just didn't like the way it flowed so I cut it in half. The next chapter will bring us back around to current time.
Speaking of the next chapter- I might not be posting it next week as I am participating in the Kacchako Server Gift Exchange and I need to work on that for a bit. I apologize for the wait guys!
I really hope y'all liked this chapter; even though i'm making you wait to see what happens next still. xD
Please drop me a review, I always want to hear your thoughts, suggestions, and prompts for things you would like to see in the future.