At last the end is here. It ended up being a lot longer than I originally anticipated but who doesn't love a good chonky chapter? Hope ya'll enjoy.

The world sucks. It's a godawful and terrible place where everything hurts. I didn't want to move or open my eyes; just wanted to fall right back asleep and not feel anything. My back, my arms, my legs; hell, it even felt like my organs were sore. I shifted trying to find that perfect spot once again so I could slip back into sweet unconsciousness. I reached for a pillow to cuddle against; the rest of the day could wait.

My eyes shot open when I felt warm skin instead of bed sheets. I sat up on my elbows suddenly, ignoring the immediate protest in my muscles, fully preparing to fight whoever this intruder was in my bed.

No, wait.

The blond hair spilling onto the pillow beside me didn't belong to a stranger. I held my hand to my racing heart taking a deep breath to calm my on edge nerves. I looked at him trying to understand what I was seeing. Kachan was in my bed?

And a stomach sleeper?

I looked around the bedroom. There weren't any clothes on the floor, the desk along the wall was tidy and didn't have notebooks spilling out of its drawers, and the comforter in my hands was black and orange not blue. His bedroom. His bed. Which meant technically, I was the intruder.

I had stayed the night. That never happened.

I became increasingly self-aware. I had slept with him, in his bed and…oh my god, where were my clothes? Being naked in his bed wasn't anything new to me; it happened often enough, but waking up here and not remembering where I had left my clothes; now that was a game changer.

Did I get out of bed to look for them and chance waking him up or should I lay here and wait until he woke up on his own? Was he a light sleeper or a heavy one? Which would be worse? Either he got mad at me for leaving or got mad at me for staying. How the hell was I supposed to know which would be easier to handle when either way I could end up upsetting him?

A rock and a hard place and I was dead center between them.

I lay back down slowly careful not to disturb him and silently watched as the blanket that was pulled up around his shoulders dipped and rose with each breath he took, his arms tucked snugly under the pillow beneath his head. He looked so peaceful. The crease that was a permanent resident between his eyebrows was smoothed away and his lips were slightly parted. I had never before wanted to touch a face more in my life.

What was I even doing here?

I closed my eyes thinking back to what had happened yesterday; the memories coming into focus in bits and pieces. A few days ago some of Kachan's friends had wanted to go check out a new nightclub that was having its grand opening downtown. They had extended the invitation to me not giving Kachan the chance to protest. I, of course, had immediately agreed to go.

I remembered being so excited. The idea of being out in public with Kachan, doing something fun like dancing, in a place where hands could touch and not be seen. The thought had excited me in a way I hadn't been in a long time. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't mind acting like we were together. Just for a little while.

I pressed my palms into my eyes, slamming the flow of memories to a halt.

I had been wrong.

My head was pounding with questions along with the beginnings of a monstrous hangover and I really needed a pill or something. I could try to slip out of bed and make my way to his medicine cabinet in the bathroom down the hall without Kachan noticing. If I succeeded maybe I could just as easily slip out of the house before he woke up. It would be like a practice run.

I made to swing my leg out off the mattress and godamn everything hurt to move. What the hell did I do last night? I scrunched my nose at the stiffness in my limbs. More accurately, what did Kachan do to me?

He shifted slightly grumbling behind me and I froze. After hearing his breathing even out again I slowly pushed the covers away bringing my other leg over so I could sit on the edge of the bed.

The bright sunlight streaming through the window told me two things. Firstly, that it was probably past noon. Secondly, as I got a good look at myself, it told me the man in the bed beside me had thoroughly claimed every inch of my body last night. My thighs had more bite marks and hickies than I think they've ever had and I was almost too scared to look elsewhere.

"What the fuck, Kachan?" I muttered.

"What now?"

I became a deer in the headlights. Careful of any sudden movements. Wary of sudden sounds.

"Nothing."

Very light sleeper after all. My next move would be decided by his reaction. Would he realize we had slept in the same bed together for the first time and kick me out?

"Why the hell you up so early?" He yawned and I let out a sigh of relief.

Normally after sex he would allow me some time to collect myself but eventually tell me to piss off. If we were at my house he would stay until I fell asleep. When he left I never knew, but he would always be gone in the morning. It used to hurt not having him there. I would try to stay up and talk to him so he wouldn't go, but I never lasted long and would eventually succumb to exhaustion as I always did.

Who was I kidding?

It still hurt.

"Oh shit, it's one," I heard him mutter in surprise as the mattress dipped with his movement. I could feel his breath along my neck when he came up behind me. His hand was suddenly stroking my back, his fingers dancing along my spine making me shiver.

"Damn," he whispered, voice still gravelly and heavy with sleep.

What the hell was going on? He should be asking me why I'm still here and when I planned on leaving. It's what would have been normal. I felt exposed and confused and I just wanted to find my clothes and leave.

"I did a number on you last night didn't I?" he chuckled.

"Yeah – yeah you did," I replied getting up.

I felt like a baby deer trying to figure out how to use its legs for the first time. Godamn it, why was walking so difficult? I hobbled to the bathroom not daring to look behind me. I locked the door before bracing myself for whatever would stare back at me in the mirror.

I was a wreck.

I looked like I had just been dragged through the streets for an hour. Red stained the whites of my eyes which felt heavy and sunken in with smudges of black smeared beneath them making it look like I had been decked.

The skin of my face was deathly pale as though I hadn't seen the sun in years and my lips and throat were uncomfortably dry. And to top it off, the true icing on the cake, I had some wild bed head that had pushed my green curls in every direction.

But that didn't even begin to describe the state my body was in. I had definitely had my shit rocked. I was an absolute mess. A walking disaster.

I had been right, Kachan had utterly ruined me.

My neck was covered in angry dark red splotches and I could make out plenty of teeth imprints along my shoulders. The marks continued along my chest some a shade or two shy of purple and a few more well past it. When I looked lower I noticed bruising around my hips suspiciously shaped like fingerprints. This didn't even include whatever it was Kachan had been marveling at on my back.

I had made him angry.

There was no other explanation for the splattering of reds and purples painting my skin like a bruised sunset. He had always been an aggressive lover but this, this was on another level.

I felt pressure deep in my bones and just knew I wouldn't be able to walk straight for a few days. I chuckled in spite of myself; that was something Kachan liked to promise often. I gave myself another once over grinning. I had looked better.

Last night I had definitely looked better.

I had worn black jeans with two columns of strategically placed rips down the legs from the tops of my thighs to my ankles. They were my favorite pair because they showcased the matching fishnet stretched across my skin beneath them.

I decided to wear a deep green button up shirt with it knowing the color would make my eyes pop. I had gone even further by adding a black leather harness criss-crossing across my chest and looping around my waist, black ankle boots that mirrored Kachan's favorite pair and completed the look with just a touch of eyeliner and hair gel. No one would be embarrassed to be seen with me tonight.

I squeezed into the backseat of the car with Kachan and his three other friends when they came to pick me up and immediately I was confident I had made the right decision. Even though Kachan hadn't said anything to me directly, his eyes could barely look away, not bothering to hide his attraction to the sight I had presented him with.

"Holy fuck! And here I was thinking I was straight," one of his friends had purred appreciatively.

Kachan had punched him.

I looked back up at my reflection and instantly the smile melted away. I sighed heavily pulling on the mirror to open the medicine cabinet behind it. After rummaging through the medications on the shelves I found what I needed. I popped two pills into my mouth and stuck my head under the faucet. I was tired. So so tired.

I couldn't stay cooped up in the bathroom forever mapping out the constellations the bruises and scratches made. I would need to face him. I gave myself a few slaps on the cheeks to psych myself up then opened the door trying to look nonchalant as I made my way back to the bedroom.

When I got there Kachan was sitting up in bed tapping away at his phone. He wasn't wearing a shirt and if I had to guess I would say he was as naked as I was under the covers.

"Where are my clothes?" I asked from the doorway scanning the floor.

"Exactly where you left them when you took them off."

"And where is that?"

He raised an eyebrow at me.

"The living room obviously."

"Right," I said not recalling that at all.

The fact that I had stripped and lost my clothes and wasn't really able to remember doing so should have been concerning. I mean, I knew I had been drinking last night but I must have had more than I thought.

I turned around and headed out to the living room. True to his word our clothes were strewn listlessly around the couch and on the floor. This must have been where it all started. As it usually did. I set to the task of looking for my boxers and once I found those tried to decide if the bruises on my backside could handle my pants.

They had served me well last night.

The club itself had been an amazing experience. The DJ had kept the energy of the room rising and falling, perfectly balancing aggressive bass with accentuated lighting. A goddess of rhythm and we followed her every direction as faithful worshippers. The bar had proudly listed an endless array of drinks and due to the large chunks of my memory missing I must have had quite the sampling.

We had all been having a good time, dancing together in a large group pushing good-naturedly against each other and jumping in tandem with strangers when the beat dropped. It had been everything I wanted and Kachan didn't seem to worry about who saw us together.

That all changed when the song morphed into something smooth and sensual. The other guys immediately dispersed in search of females to dance with which meant leaving Kachan and I alone together for the first time all night.

I inwardly cringed thinking about it. I had tried so hard. Dancing around him, feet stepping in circles, my hips swaying to the rhythm, trying to entice him to join me. He reached for me entangling his fingers in the straps around my ribs and pulled me flush against him. My heart jumped into my throat excited that all my work hadn't been for nothing. The feeling dissipated just as quickly when it became clear that he wouldn't be dancing with me.

He just stood there eyes fixated on me, an expression on his face that I had never seen before. The only thing he had wanted was for me to stop. I felt foolish, like I had been trying to give a lap dance to an empty chair.

What the hell would it take?

Could I only be the object of his desire when my clothes were off? It sure seemed so. I clenched my teeth and enjoyed the way his eyes grew slightly larger when I tugged him down by the front of his shirt.

"Fuck you then," I growled before shoving him.

I think he called after me as I walked away but it was hard to hear over the music. I didn't care. The man I wanted didn't want me and my earlier confidence had been shredded to fucking ribbons. If I didn't belong to him I would belong to myself. I would do what I wanted. And what I wanted to do was dance.

So I would.

I would dance and let my mind be swayed with the pulse of music around me and try to stop looking for scarlet irises in the eyes of every blond stranger. What more was there to do besides get lost in the crowd and try to forget?

Drinks slid quickly down my throat spilling ink over the night trying to blot out my humiliation from memory. Amber anesthesia in convenient glasses ready to numb the edges cutting into my heart.

Lights grew brighter, the bass deeper. Unknown expressionless faces swam closer filling my vision with dark hair, dark eyes, dark intentions. But I could take care of myself. All on my own.

I remembered Kachan's murderous stare meeting my gaze while a tall man who I had never met and who had been steadily slipping me drinks for over an hour grinded against me during a particularly explicit song. I couldn't walk straight, couldn't see straight yet had known straightaway that I was in trouble. I wished I cared. I turned away as though I hadn't seen him.

I wished he cared.

I guess I really hadn't cared very much after all. At least not enough to remember anything that happened after that, the alcohol doing what it does best.

God, last night had been such a mess. It probably explained the intention behind all the marks etched into my skin. I had seriously pissed him off.

"Preparing yourself for your walk of shame already?"

I jumped at Kachan's voice behind me.

"Yeah. I guess so."

I had never needed to do that before. Shame was a good name for it. I slid one foot into my pants and then the other, gently so as not to aggravate any of the tender skin. I'd have to look at him eventually. I didn't know why I was so anxious about it. I didn't know a lot of things.

I turned to meet his gaze, my heart doing backflips immediately at the sight of him. He squinted slightly at the sunlight streaming through the living room window and rubbed the back of his neck, the muscles in his arm flexing with the movement. There was a softness about him that I had never seen before and the romantic in me keened. I guess some things hadn't changed.

Why had he come after me last night after clearly rejecting me? Why had he trailblazed through my body afterwards? And for the love of god why had I woken up in his bed for the first time? A luxury I had prepared myself to never have.

There was only one way to find out for sure and right now it was staring at me as I struggled to string together a sentence. Luckily he had thrown on a pair of sweatpants and it always made it easier to think when I wasn't distracted by his dick.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing."

It was an automatic response and I felt stupid as soon as it left my mouth. I chose to focus my attention on trying to find my shirt instead.

"What are you acting so fucking weird for? Changing your mind about what you wanted?"

I blinked at the floor confused as I heard him walk away. What I wanted? What did I want? Shirt forgotten I hurriedly followed him into the kitchen.

"What are you talking about?"

He was putting a small plastic cup of coffee grounds into the top of the coffee maker on the counter.

"Hmm?"

"You just said this was what I wanted," I said exasperated, "What the hell did I want?"

"Taking it back now after last night, huh?"

"I can't take back what I don't remember asking for!"

My change in volume didn't seem to faze him as he pushed a button on the coffee maker and looked at me with a deadpan expression.

"Seriously? You're not fucking around?"

"No," I said balling my hands into fists.

His eyes traveled down my face and along my chest probably taking notice of his handiwork from last night.

"Fucking lightweight," he muttered as coffee began to pour into his mug.

What the hell? Was he just not going to tell me? God he was infuriating. He leaned against the counter with his drink and took a sip.

"Want some?"

I sighed, "Sure."

He turned around to reach up into the cupboards for another mug and… Jesus fucking Christ. I got a good look at his back for the first time. From his shoulder blades down his spine and disappearing into the waistband of his pants were long, harsh, red lines and pink crescent moons dotted everywhere.

I looked at my hands. He hadn't been the only one marking territory. I had never been allowed to do that before. What the hell happened?

I heard the machine start dripping coffee again.

"You were so fucking stupid last night."

I glared at him.What's that supposed to mean?"

He replaced the plastic cup in the top of machine and pressed a button. A few seconds later coffee began to stream into the waiting mug beneath it.

"I had to knock some fucker's lights out because he was draping himself all over you. Ain't your mother ever teach you not to talk to strangers?"

"I'm not a child. I'm perfectly capable of handling myself," I said not appreciating the condescension.

"Oh yeah, green bean? Capable enough to let yourself be lead to the exit and getting dangerously close to being shoved into the back seat of some fucker's car?" He shoved the hot ceramic mug into my hands. "I highly doubt it."

How was I supposed to respond to that? I really had been out of my mind. I should say thank you.

"Wouldn't have happened if you had been there."

Well fuck.

"I know," he said putting his mug to his lips again, "I'm sorry."

We sat in silence for another few seconds letting the apology hang in the air, the only sound being the gentle humming of the coffee machine's motor. I suddenly remembered something.

"Where did the other guys go? Did they come back with us?"

"Ha," he grinned. "Uh, no. They ended up with dick appointments." When he saw my confused expression he helpfully supplied some context. "I guess someone inspired them to try things out on the other side."

I blushed at his knowing smirk.

"So what happened after…after you found me?" I took a hesitant taste of my coffee. Black. Not surprising.

"Hhmm," he huffed, "I dragged your sorry ass out of there, called a cab and brought you home with me because you're such a lightweight and were so incredibly fucking plastered." He brought his mug back to his mouth and grinned at me. "You're a crybaby when you're drunk by the way."

Of course I would be. I rolled my eyes and took another sip. Could I have been any more of a mess in front of him?

"And when we got back here you asked me to break up with you."

I choked on my drink, spluttering into my cup. Hot coffee dribbled down my chin and I swiped at my mouth with the back of my hand.

"I-I-I did what?!"

"And when I told you no you ran to my bathroom to hurl again."

I could only blink at him. I couldn't even break things off with him myself when my inhibition was out the window. I couldn't believe how weak-willed I was. And he had said…no?

"So now you're ugly sobbing with your face in my toilet which wasn't the best look you've ever had."

"Says the guy who hurled in the street at 4 a.m. a couple weeks ago."

He flipped me the bird and I smirked as I took another drink. We were back in familiar territory.

If our conversation could be excused I'd say the scene we were in was one I had never thought we'd fit into. We had woken up together, gotten semi-dressed together, and were now having morning (or would it be afternoon?) coffee together. It was so comfortably domestic and I couldn't help sighing contentedly. If only it were this easy.

"But you started to cry again," he said startling me out of my thoughts, "And, I don't know. I don't like seeing you cry. It fucks with me in a weird way." He frowned into his mug. "I wanted to make you feel better but I didn't know how so I... just…"

"You held me," I said surprising myself.

I couldn't believe I had forgotten. He had brought me water and then when my stomach had finally run dry he held me against his chest on the bathroom floor while I tried to get my breathing under control. I clutched my mug tighter in my grasp.

I remember at that moment being the saddest I had ever been in my entire life.

So overwhelmed with feeling abandoned and rejected and so angry that I couldn't seem to pull away from the one who made me feel this way. Pathetic. A disaster of a human being running to the person who hurt me the most for comfort. Who needed the walk of shame when I had been walking with shame weighing in my heart for so long?

He had rubbed my back and ran his hands through my hair. He had…kissed my forehead. Softly and unexpectedly and full of much needed reassurance.

Kachan cleared his throat.

"Yeah… but anyways. After you chilled out I took you to the living room to get you situated on the couch. It was then you asked me to force you to break up with me."

"That was stupid," I said more to myself than to him.

I still couldn't just do it on my own. Still pushed the responsibility onto his shoulders.

"Considering your plan was for me to fuck you to the point of wrecking you so you would hate me and never want to be with me again? Yes, really fucking stupid."

"Oh my god," I moaned leaning against the fridge, cold against my bare skin and sliding down to the floor, my muscles screaming in refusal.

"Don't know how that was supposed to help," he said sipping from his mug again before placing it on the counter.

It wouldn't have. Drunk me would have known that as much as sober me did. Kachan could never hurt me. Not like that. Not even if he wanted to. He wasn't that kind of person. Telling him to be just meant he was rougher, claimed more of me, but he would still never actually do anything to me. I was always safe with Kachan.

The old saying states the quickest way to get over someone is to get under someone else, not to sleep with them again and hope you don't like it this time. But how could I ever enjoy being touched the way he touched me if the hands on my body weren't his? My muscles would relax, the broken blood vessels would heal and the discoloration on my skin would fade but my heart would still beat for him. Even if it was in pieces.

"I shouldn't have agreed to do it, but you had seemed so sad and desperate. I just couldn't say no to you," he said eyebrows furrowed together in distaste at the memory.

'Good,' I thought bitterly setting my mug to the side, 'know what it feels like.'

"And even though I gave you everything you wanted and took more than you thought you could give, it didn't seem to make you feel any better. Except afterwards…you umm… you told me you loved me."

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath hiding my face in my hands incredibly embarrassed and ashamed that something I had been keeping safe in my heart had been ripped from my throat in anguish instead of affection.

He pretended not to hear me and continued.

"You also said you wanted to go home, but you were still inebriated and well…thoroughly fucked, so there was no way I was letting you leave."

Pity. He had done this all out of pity. He had done as I asked, had held me, had let me wake up with him in the morning all because he felt bad for me. Should I be grateful that he didn't leave me to fend for myself? Should I feel stupid for showing him every card in my hand? Should I really be holding out for hope that maybe, just maybe he would show me mercy?

"Did you mean it, Izuku?"

"What?" I mumbled into my hands peeking through my fingers.

"When you said you loved me. Did you mean it?"

The room was beginning to blur with tears threatening to spill over but I can't afford to lose myself right now. I need to hold out just a little longer. Just enough so I don't become so immensely vulnerable in front of him again. It's too soon. I'm not ready. He walked over and crouched so he was eye level with me.

"If you tell me it was just something you said because you were hammered and depressed then I'll believe you. But if you meant it," he pointedly raised an eyebrow at me, "I need to know."

I said nothing. I didn't dare, not trusting my voice to stay steady. I looked away staring into the black swirl of my mug as the steam slowly dissipated in the air. I wanted to scream.

"Because you're not happy. And don't you dare try to lie to me and say you are because it's pretty fucking obvious you're not and that you haven't been for a long time."

I bit my lip scared that if I let it go I would start saying stupid things like, "No, I'm actually happy," or "Please don't say what you're about to say," or "God, yes, I love you so fucking much, Katsuki." He would see right through me. He always did. He could probably read my thoughts as clearly as though they were scrolling across my skin. I wanted to run and hide and never face the reality of what was happening. That he knew and that he would leave me for good.

But he wasn't done.

"I'd been pretty comfortable with what we had going on in the beginning. But I haven't been really ok in a long time either. I don't think we can ever be again if we don't figure our shit out."

"I know," I whispered.

I knew all too well.

"So, it doesn't matter what your answer is I'm still going to say what I gotta."

Don't cry, don't cry, don't fucking cry! Everything was falling apart and my will was holding itself together by a single held in breath. An amalgamation of everything I had ever feared was rearing its beastly head and there was nothing I could do to keep it from sinking its cold fangs into my flesh. I could do nothing but close my eyes and await the inevitable; to allow the storm to take me under and pray that it was warmer beneath the waves.

"I'm in love with you."

Excuse me, what the fuck?

I whipped my head back around to face him my mouth hanging open. Taking in my expression he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Yup, that's about the reaction I was expecting. Forget I said anything."

He stood up and went back to the counter not looking in my direction but I wasn't about to let him slide so easily.

"Woah, woah, woah! Hold the fuck up!" I protested, "You can't just say something like that and not give me a second to process it!"

"What's so fucking hard to process?" he said with his back still to me.

"This whole proclamation of love you just spewed at me!"

"Ugh! It sounds fucking stupid when you say it like that."

I held my head in my hands, looking at nothing but the kitchen floor. My head was spinning and I had no idea where to even start to slow it down. Silence was becoming something we were intimately familiar with and it stretched on for what seemed like hours. It wasn't as comfortable as before.

"Since when?"

"What?"

"Since when?" I repeated. "How long have you known?"

"A while ago," he said matter of factly.

That told me fuck all.

"Ok, a little more specific."

He turned around and glared at me making me bite my lip again.

"The second you stepped through the doorway at that stupid bar when you came to pick up my drunk ass wearing that dumb fucking jacket that I keep telling you to get rid of 'cause it's old as fuck." He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "Specific enough for ya?"

"How do you remember anything from that night?" I asked choosing to ignore the heat that was spreading across my cheeks.

"I'm not a fucking lightweight like some people!"

"You could barely walk half the time!"

"Still handled myself better than you did!"

He angrily dropped his mug into the sink, the ceramic clanging loudly against the metal basin.

"Fine whatever. But that's just you being grateful that I didn't ditch you. That doesn't mean anything," I countered.

"I could've called a cab."

"Then why the hell didn't you?"

"I wanted you."

I wanted to pull my hair out. Not a single thing that was happening was making sense. Wasn't this something I had longed to hear for years? So why was I fighting him every stepof the way? Why couldn't I just let it happen? I searched his eyes trying to find answers in their smoky pits.

I wouldn't survive if this was a lie. So I needed to push. Push as hard as it took to make him break. Has he ever really broken before though?

"I don't get why you're acting like you didn't already know," he said suddenly.

I blanched. "And how the hell was I supposed to know?"

"Every time I tried to be just a little... you know... you got all fucking weird about it!" He looked away from me almost embarrassed but not quite. "I was sure I was scaring you off."

He had already thrown so much at me at once and now suddenly says he's been trying to show me some kind of affection for weeks! Sure. What was one more round of whiplash? What could I have possibly missed?

"When was this?!"

"Oh, come on! You can't be this big of a dumbass!" He said throwing his hands up in exasperation. "For starters, back then while we were watching those dumb fucking kids in the street I tried to hold your hand but you got this stupid shocked look on your face so I thought it was too much too soon."

That had been his attempt at holding my hand? Grabbing my wrist and dragging me down the street? Well, as I've thought before, Kachan didn't really have a soft setting.

"Then I tried to keep you with me during the night but in the morning I was alone on that couch and that's when I knew for fucking sure!"

"Knew what?"

"That these," he motioned to himself face scrunched in disgust, "feelings weren't just because I was shitfaced and alone! I mean how the hell can someone like you make me feel like garbage when you leave?"

His voice was rising and I couldn't tell if he was getting angrier or if he was just trying to express himself in the only way he knew how.

"Then a while ago I tried to be nicer to you during sex. I knew it was that kind of sappy shit you liked and I figured hey, that's subtle enough but oh nooooo! You had to up and fucking run away from me like a scared little shit leaving me there feeling like I had royally and I mean ROYALLY fucked up! Who the fuck does that?" He growled baring his teeth at me.

Well I definitely felt like shit about that now. I knew I should have looked back at him then but I hadn't. He was right, I had been too damn scared. I wanted to reassure him, tell him everything had been fine. More than fine. Amazing. But it was too late for that. I had hurt him and he was far too riled up for me to intterupt his tangent.

"And then last night. Oh my god, Izuku!" He buried his hands in his hair running them through it back and forth in agitation. "I've never wanted to fuck someone in public and fucking kill them at the same time before but leave it to you to make it happen!"

"Wait, what?" I quickly got to my feet to defend myself, "How can you not tell me what I did and still be mad at me for shit I don't remember?"

What could I have done? What had I missed while sloshed out of my wits? He snapped his head to the side staring at me again eyes on fire.

"Oh, you remember. You were nice and sober knowing that every bastard in that club was mentally stripping you the second you walked in! Don't act like you hadn't tried to look as godamn fuckable as possible yesterday!"

I mean I had, but I wasn't about to admit to it. Not when it looked like he would have an aneurysm if he found out he was right. But I hadn't noticed anyone else. What I wore had been for him and somehow it was still wrong.

"That's not my fault! They would have left me alone if you had acted like you knew me even just a fucking little bit!"

I could feel my temper rising to match his. It didn't matter what emotion it was, Kachan always managed to awaken the most passionate parts of me.

"And then what? Have you get all fucking jumpy again? Do you know how hard it was not to touch you? How fucking badly I just wanted to push you up against a wall not giving a fuck who saw us? Godamn it, Izuku!" He punctuated my name by slamming his fist into the counter making my next words catch in my throat.

This wasn't anger. I knew what he looked like when he was pissed. Knew exactly the expressions he made and could understand his body language as though it were my native tongue. But this wasn't it.

He was wound up so tightly I was worried something would rupture. He was holding himself back, physically restraining the thoughts he was thinking from stampeding out of his mouth. He wasn't angry. Not at me. He was frustrated.

"Why didn't you-"

"I didn't want to scare you or make you uncomfortable but, fuck me, you looked so fucking beautiful and you made it so fucking hard! And did I get a thank you? Fuck no! Instead, you decided to parade your pert little ass all over the fucking place getting fucking hammered with some nameless extras!"

He was close to combusting and I mentally prepared for the onslaught.

"And just when I think you can't possibly do anything stupider you end up against some jockstrap's dick who probably wanted to sell you to traffickers and…and..."

I watched him lean his head back against the wall, his words trailing away like vapor as he ran out of steam. He pinched the bridge of his nose shutting his eyes as he took a deep breath to calm himself. When he let it out again I was shocked to hear how shaky it was. It sounded oddly...broken. He slowly moved his hands to the back of his neck and stared straight ahead of him lost in whatever thoughts were careening around in his mind.

"Fuck, Izuku," he said softly, "I've never been so scared in my entire godamn life."

I tried to picture Kachan afraid. Of anything. Anyone. Nothing came to mind. I couldn't imagine what had given him this look of desperation and aggravation he was wearing, but apparently something had and it had been because of me. I wished I could have prevented it. Wished that I could have, just once, protected him. Wished that I wasn't so good at ruining everything.

"Scared?" I asked quietly, "Of what?"

He sighed heavily again before saying, "The thought of losing you, and not even just to some weirdo at a club. To anybody. Knowing that you could so quickly find someone else when I didn't give you what you wanted. Knowing that it was your dumb ass that I loved and I couldn't do a single thing to make you happy." I could almost hear my own voice when he said, "Knowing I was so easily replaceable scared me."

His eyes met mine then and my heartbeat accelerated at the sheer intensity I found there. They were filled with the explosive energy that had rocked me to my very core since the day I met him. He had never looked so alive yet so exhausted. So guarded and so vulnerable. They shone with a savage sweet clarity and I had never loved him more.

We stared at each other for a long time in his silent kitchen. We stood there with our heads cooling along with my abandoned coffee on the floor. I couldn't find any words to say. Couldn't find anything in my vocabulary that would adequately get across every emotion I was feeling, everything I had ever felt. I over-analyzed every word we had said. Every gesture. Every change in the angle of his frown and every breath he took.

This couldn't be real. He was just misinterpreting his own feelings, right?

No, he may have a short fuse and dealt with most things using anger as his weapon of choice, but that didn't mean he didn't understand emotions like most people. He's always been one to supersede expectations. I chewed on the inside of my cheek as my thoughts calmly came to rest on a fundamental truth.

I couldn't hide anything from Kachan, he's known me for too long. But I've known him just as long. And not once today have I thought something he's said was a lie.

I took a deep breath to steady my nerves as I stood on the precipice of something terrifying.

I have made a lot of bad decisions in my life. Running through traffic, waving away the concerned gazes of my friends when all they wanted to do was help, almost allowing myself to be kidnapped. Especially that last one. Yes, so many mistakes.

But Kachan had never been one of them.

"I did," I whispered so quietly I wasn't sure he heard me.

"You did what?" he asked steely gaze locked on to me.

I stepped off the edge praying he would catch me.

"I did...mean it."

The air hung empty of words and full of hesitation. I prayed to any deity willing to listen as Kachan stood up straight, his expression remaining the same.

His response to my admission wasn't loud or sudden. It was uncharacteristically quiet and gentle. He grabbed my arm and pulled me against his chest tangling his other hand in my hair to keep me there. My knees threatened to buckle when I felt his pulse racing beneath his hot skin as fast as mine was. It seemed Kachan did have a soft setting after all.

"Good," he muttered into my ear.

I breathed a sigh of relief wrapping my arms around him. I was as weightless as foam floating on the surface of the ocean. Pliant as the moist sand at its edges. My shoulders had never felt so light. I could have been blown away with a whisper but I was anchored safely to Kachan. Secure for the first time in a long time.

He suddenly pushed my shoulders back so he could look down at me. I blinked at him confused only to see him looking slightly concerned.

"What the hell are you crying for?"

I touched my cheeks and stared surprised at the wetness on my fingertips. He placed his hand on my chin tilting my head up so I would look at him again.

"Such a fucking crybaby."

This time as our lips met I allowed myself to melt against him. He really was a very good kisser. I couldn't wait to do this more often.

"You just had to put those fucking pants back on didn't you?" he mumbled, his breath warm against my lips. "I could swear you're doing this shit on purpose."

I grinned as his hands slid lower to grasp the back of my thighs, lifting me so I could wrap them around his waist. He placed me on the counter top before kissing me urgently again. I pulled him closer unable to be satisfied with space still between us. He pushed back against me willingly closing the distance. He was gentle, mindful of my still very sore body and I was careful not to rub against the skin of his back too much.

When we paused so I could catch my breath I was pleased to find him just as breathless. I slid my fingers through his hair as I gazed into his eyes. I could see myself reflected back, smiling widely like an idiot. I wonder what he saw when he looked at me. He was grinning with pride so he must like what he was seeing. Who knew it was possible to be this happy with each other?

"You're thinking sappy shit aren't you?"

He definitely knew me too well.

"Just thinking how lucky I am for you to finally be mine," I said confidently, inwardly screaming with joy that I could finally say those words and have them be completely true.

He rolled his eyes but the pink dusting across the tops of his cheeks didn't go unnoticed.

"Fucking gross."

He hid his face in my neck and I couldn't help but chuckle. So this is what he looked like when he was embarrassed.

"You can't go saying shit like that to anybody else understand?" He grumbled, "You're mine too."

As if I had ever been anything else.

Hope everyone had a good time, I know I did. As always please let me know what you all thought. Thank you for reading.