#mywriting

CW: (some) (danganronpa typical) cringe humour, awkward situations, sexual situations, mature themes, sexy sandwich eating, (im so sorry), (it was so fun to write

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You've been learning a lot of new things about yourself in the past forty-eight hours, the main thing being the that you're not as good a judge of character as you thought you were, but also, now, that you're not exactly skilled at being stealthy either. All you wanted to do was sneak into the room that Nekomaru and Kazuichi had admitted this morning to leaving Nagito tied up in, leave the food that Mahiru had given you somewhere visible so he wouldn't accidentally starve to death, and then sneak back out before he noticed you.

…Unfortunately for you, it seems that life is out to get you the exact way it has been since you were first transported to this godforsaken island. Almost as soon as you crack open one of the large double doors that bar your entry to the room and attempt to slip through the miniscule gap you've created, taking deliberate care to move as quietly as possible, Nagito calls out to you.

'It's you! You came to see me! And you brought me breakfast, that's so sweet!' His voice is as raspy as it always was- you would have called it husky once upon a time, but you're no longer inclined to give him such favour- with an unsettling quality that it seems to have picked up and kept ever since he dropped his act, like something sinister is lurking in the depths of his tone, ready to jump out and snap you up in one motion as soon as you let your guard down. Some people would call it attractive, you're not that honest kind, not anymore.

He stripped all the kindness from your bones when it became apparent that not only was he the reason any death occurred at all, but that he was deliberately trying to confuse things and help the killer out during the trial. Like he didn't care if you all died, like he didn't care if you died.

It's bizarre how quickyly things have changed here, if Nagito had greeted you like this just one day ago you'd have said he sounded pleased to see you, excited even. Now, you can't help but hear a sarcastic bite to all his words, even when there isn't one. You can't help but think this is all a show, or perhaps he's trying to manipulate you again. …Or maybe he's just happy because you're bringing him a sandwich so he won't become the next body via malicious neglect and starvation- a sandwich that you were forced to bring him, you remind yourself as an uncomfortable thought wiggles forwards to the front of your mind and makes itself known, whispering insideously that clearly you care if he dies.

You don't bother to hide the sinking of your shoulders at the sound of his exuberant voice. You see no point in hiding your recently changed feelings about him, you just wish you had more time to figure out exactly how those feelings have changed. You've been oscillating wildly between hating him, missing him, and wondering if you ever really knew him at all. Your mind has been in a whirlwind ever since the trial last night and you've yet to settle on anything concrete.

You knew you were going to have to face him at some point, you just didn't know it was going to be so soon. You shouldn't have taken the plate from Mahiru in the first place but she had practically shoved it into your hands, voice a fast paced blur that you could barely decipher before she was running out the room.

It was only when you were left staring at her after image in confusion that you put the pieces together and managed finally to understand what she had said: 'can you take this to Nagito, I'm worried the boys won't feed him but I can't look at him right now. You used to be close so it will be fine, right?' And then she'd absconded, leaving you holding a plate and wondering why people were leaving the hotel lobby so rapidly until you figured that out too- they didn't want to be saddled with the task if you decided you couldn't do it either.

You've been left with the metaphorical hot potato and you just weren't fast enough to figure out it could burn you. That's how you got where you are now, staring down the double oak doors to the room Nagito's apparently being kept in, the very same room Byakuya was killed in, regretting all the choices in your life that lead you to this moment. Especially the ones to do with Nagito.

Taking a steadying breath, you raise your head to look at him and the sight that greets you is both exactly what you expected and so bizarre that you could never have expected it: Nagito is literally chained up on floor, laying on his side with his arms pulled behind his back and tied together with a heavy metal chain. You don't know where Nekomaru and Kazuichi even got a chain from, let alone one so heavy duty.

Nagito looks way too comfortable for someone trussed up on the floor the way he is, with his arms pinned behind his back like that. His feet are bound together too, over and over with a long length of rope that you didn't notice until now because you were so focused on the chain. He's grinning up at you like nothing has changed, the look on his face so friendly it almost feels smug, like he didn't try kill someone and betray the very beliefs that attracted you to him in the first place.

'I'm so happy you took the time out of your busy day to bring food for little old me. …If I'm being honest I was starting to believe that Nekomaru and Kazuichi were going to leave me to starve in here! …I can't exactly greet you with my full hospitality but feel free to relax, just pretend we're hanging out in my room after dark again, that should put you at ease.'

At his words, your mind suddenly floods with memories from the last time you were in his room; how comfortable you felt around him despite him being kind of awkward, the way his mere presence and ongoing optimism about the situation had reassured you that nothing bad was going to happen. …The look startled on his face before you kissed him, the rough drag of his chapped lips against yours, how soft they were anyway, the way he'd laughed almost disbelievingly when you'd pulled back. …Then later, falling asleep in his arms because he'd made you feel safe- little did you know how much danger you were really in.

You shake your head to clear it, rolling your eyes at his words and stepping further into the room, wholly intent on ignoring his theatrics. This is why you didn't want to see him so soon, it's too raw, you keep getting caught up in what could have been, keep getting trapped in memories that now make your skin crawl. You'd wanted distance so you could stop feeling so damn hurt by Nagito's betrayal- because that's what it was, betrayal- and Mahiru had ruined that- no, Nagito had ruined that, he'd ruined everything. …You are so pissed at him he better not open his stupid, smiling mouth again while you're in the room.

You walk over to him, crouching to slap the plate down on the floor next to his face, feeling a vague sense of satisfaction curl up in your gut at the sight of his barely disguised flinch while you elect to ignore his needling comments in favour of saying, 'shut up and eat,' before standing and turning to walk away.

'Huh? You're not going to feed me?' Nagito's voice cuts in before you manage to even take a single step away from him.

…The fucking gaul of this man. 'What? No way! You tried to kill one of us of course I'm not going to feed you!' You spit, spinning back round to face him, voice outraged and body lightheaded at how quickly the anger rushed you.

'Well, I can't eat it on my own, y'know, since my hands are all tied up…' Nagito lifts- or attempts to lift his hands behind his back, resulting in his whole body tilting forwards to accommodate the movement, putting what looks like an uncomfortable amount of pressure on his left shoulder, and even then his hands only make it a restrained half a foot into the air before they flop back onto the floor uselessly with a dull thud. It's impressive he managed to lift them at all, considering how numb the one he's laying on must be. You frown- you do not feel bad for Nagito. He deserves this. You do not feel bad for Nagito.

Nagito has the decency to look a little abashed at the rage on your face as he continues, '…actually, I was a little embarrassed to ask Mahiru to feed me, so I'm really glad you're the one who came. We're close, right? So I don't need to be embarrassed.' He grins at you cheerily, supposed bashfulness gone in the blink of an eye, disappearing so fast you're left wondering if it was ever really there to begin with- no, you're left certain that it wasn't real to begin with, that it was there but only to be the set up to a sly, teasing jab about how close you are. …So much for him feeling bad at how upset he's made you. So much for you hoping that maybe tucked somewhere deep inside Nagito might have some kind of conscience.

You grit your teeth, anger resurging as this realisation starts to recontextualise so much of Nagito's behaviour before the truth about him came out; how much of what he said to you and to others wasn't at all sincere? How much of it was just a private joke where he got a kick out of making people feel awkward for his own amusement? So much for the socially unaware, upbeat, optimistic man with such a secure outlook on life that he really had you believing that you'd all get through this together and figure out how to get off this god forsaken island without a single fucking death. So much for fucking anything.

'Really? You're glad I came?' You ask sarcastically, shooting him the dirtiest look you can muster, trying to proclaim exactly how far he's sunk in your eyes since the events of last night with a single look.

'Of course I am! We have a special connection! I really thought you'd hate me after the events of last night but you're here visiting me now, you even brought me breakfast! You must not hate me so much after all, or at the very least you pity me enough to help. It's truly inspiring the way you can have hope for even the most despicable of creatures, because you have to believe I could be better, otherwise why would you be here? Together we make the truest hope- we feed off each other!

'It's like when you kissed me! I never thought anyone as interesting as you would be interested in me, it gave me such hope then and you're here now! Inspiring hope in me again while I inspire hope in you. Isn't that wonderful?'

…That is quite possibly the craziest shit you've ever heard in your life. He thinks you think he could be better? That you're hopeful about him? Just because you don't want another person to die? What kind of twisted logic is that???

'Is that supposed to make me feel better?! Nagito, you lied to me! You led me on! You-' You start, voice full of outrage only to be cut off midsentence.

'When did I lead you on? …It's true I might have been a little misleading about the true nature of my personality but my feelings for you are real. I only lied to you because I knew that if you knew the real me you wouldn't be interested. But the version I presented, the me that you fell for those first few weeks, he made you hopeful, right? He made you think we could get out of this together, that we could escape this island as a group even though that was highly improbable.

'Even now, there's still a part of you that hopes he will return right? Even when you know I'm actually trash, you still hope that I can be better. I did it in the service of something greater than ourselves, it's like I told you, we inspired hope in each other- can continue to inspire hope in each other! You gave me such hope, you still do! Do you know how special that is? To give someone as despicable and despairing as me hope?'

'How do you know?! I might have liked the real you! You never even gave me a chance.' You spit at him, voice laden with venom, choosing once again to ignore his insane ramblings about hope when his actions have caused nothing but despair.

'Wait, are you saying that you could have liked me as I am? You truly are special!' Nagito's head tilts back as a truly gleeful cackle escapes his lips before he leans towards you as much as he can while chained up on the floor, smiling all the while, 'you know, if you really meant it, I wouldn't mind if we picked up where we left off in my cottage.'

…You're flabbergasted, how can he think about that at a time like this????? So you tell him, 'how can you think of that at a time like this?! And- it's- no! No! You killed- you tried to kill someone! Who could like that?'

'It's just that feeling you give me! I'm in the most hopeless of situations, someone like me wanting to be with someone like you, and then you tell me it could have been real? It could have been real and now it can't and yet still I have hope! That's the power you ultimates have, that's the power that you give other people! The ability to hope in the most despairing of situ-'

Sensing that he isn't going to shut up about hope any time soon and completely fed up of his manic rambling, you drop to your knees and press your hand over his mouth to make him shut up but Nagito just keeps on talking, the words becoming unintelligible mumbling underneath your hand. The strangest feeling of dejavu washes over you at this; somehow, seeing him still trying to talk, still trying to convince you, still trying to have hope even though the situation should feel hopeless to him, reminds you of the cheery, slightly hapless Nagito that you started falling for in the first place. The one whose endless optimism had given you hope.

Your shoulders slump as all the fight drains out your body and without thinking you find yourself brushing his wild, bushy hair back from his face with your other hand. At such a tender touch Nagito stops talking, eyes going wide for a second before you feel him smile underneath your hand as his face scrunches up with genuine joy.

You remove your hand from over his mouth and immediately he rushes to say, 'see, even now, when by all reason you should hate me, you find it within yourself to treat me kindly. You can't help but hope that I'm better than what I am! This is why you're my favourite, why we work so well together! You always want to see the best in people, and I am the absolute worst of people with no hope for improvement; together we breed hope in each other!'

Nagito's words infuriate you but with how unrepentant he is, you recognise that this might be the only chance you have to get answers from him- you're not coming back to feed him again, and you have no idea what the others are going to want to do with him after this- so you ask the question that's been running around your mind since last night, 'why didn't you kill me? You were planning to kill someone since the game started and we spent so much time alone together. You had so many chances but you didn't, so why?'

'I can't say the thought didn't cross my mind, but I just couldn't, you're too precious, too important, I-' Nagito stops for a second, throat working as he swallows. For a split second you think maybe he's embarrassed or overcome with emotion but then he continues, voice more sure and excited than before, 'you gave someone as pitiful as me hope, how could I give that up?' Despite your disappointment Nagito sounds so… exuberant that you can't help but believe him, can't help but be carried away by the conviction that's in his voice because he truly believes what he's saying.

Weirdly enough, through this strange, circular conversation, you're slowly starting to understand where Nagito is coming from. Because for a second there, when it sounded like he was getting choked up over you and then it turned out he wasn't, you were disappointed- and to have disappointment you have to have hope in the first place.

You don't agree with him. And you're still angry, but you're starting to understand where he's coming from. You gave someone as pityful as me hope, how could I give that up? You can't help but think, weren't you doing the same thing? He liked- or likes- you for the sense of hope he feels from the relationship, and you liked him for the sense of comfort he gave you. You were relying on him for your feelings of safety and security, something that's been so scarce since you were magically transported to this island and learned about the unsettling reality you've been forced into, the same way he was relying on you for hope.

Whether you want to admit it or not, you're both two sides of the same coin. Isn't part of why you've been so angry at him? Now he's revealed who he truly is, you no longer have that feeling of security, you no longer have hope. Wasn't it the first thing out of your mouth when he angered you? "Nagito, you lied to me", not Nagito you tried to kill someone, Nagito you betrayed us all, but, "Nagito, you lied to me." Yes, you mourn for Byakuya, but more intimately you mourn for your own sense of security and comfort, something you don't have anymore now that you know Nagito's upbeat assurance that you'll all get through this together was nothing more than a steadfast lie.

'That look on your face… you're being swayed to my side, aren't you?' Nagito's voice interrupts your musings and brings you crashing back to reality. You turn your head to look down at him from where you'd been staring off into space and are once again assaulted by how comfortable he looks here. He's looking at you with the same of look of fond awe and disbelief he had the first time you kissed him, smiling at you like you're sitting in his room again, talking about how of all the places to be trapped, at least it's a tropical beach that's stockpiled with good food and water.

Immediately your body floods with annoyance at being accurately called out. You roll your eyes at him again and try sneer at him from your position above him but Nagito doesn't seem to notice. He's either oblivious or a very good actor. He doesn't seem at all bothered by how his arms are pulled behind his back, doesn't seem uncomfortable lying directly on the floor, doesn't seem upset that you're forced to look down on him because of your positions, doesn't seem upset at how you're looking at him with contempt. In fact, he seems to be rather enjoying himself from the look on his face. Irrate at his assumption that he could sway you- just because you understand him a little better doesn't mean you agree with his understanding of the world- you roll your eyes again and put your hands on your knees to stand up.

'Ah, hey! Weren't you planning to feed me?' Nagito interrupts you, voice suddenly a little desperate compared to his earlier sunny disposition.

You frown at him and say, 'feed yourself,' shoving the plate towards him slightly.

'My hands are tied behind my back, you're not going to make me eat like a dog are you? …Unless, are you into pet play?' He sounds genuinely surprised, like his startled realisation is real, but when he continues talking you know he's just fucking with you, 'I'd really rather you ask me first before foisting your fetish on me, you know. I don't mind doing a little roleplay if it'll help you forgive me but consent is important. If you'd have asked first, I could have been acting like a dog this entire time.'

'I should make you eat like a dog just for the comment,' you reply coldly, but the effect is undercut by the way you're settling back down onto your knees and pulling the plate towards you.

Sitting so close to him with the plate in your hands, the reality of what you're about to do hits you with gusto and suddenly you're nervous. This would have been awkward with the Nagito you trusted but you have no idea how to approach the situation with this, new and definitely not improved Nagito.

'…um, how should I-?' You question, looking to Nagito in hopes he will present you with a less awkward option than the one you're currently considering.

'You could unlock my hands but the others might be mad…' The way Nagito says it is so rage inducing that as suddenly as your discomfort had arrived, it leaves just as quicky. All feelings of awkwardness flee you body, replaced with irritation that you're stuck doing this.

'I'll kill you myself before I untie you,' you tell him harshly.

'Really? Do you mean it? Excellent! We should start brainstorming ways for you to get away with it, I have so many ide-'

'Nagito!' You cut him off sharply.

'Huh? What is it?' Nagito sounds confused, like he genuinely doesn't know what he did wrong.

'I wasn't being serious, I'm not going to fucking kill you,' you tell him.

'Aw, why not? I'll help you get away with it,' Nagito sounds so petulant it's almost impossible to believe you're dicussing you potentially murdering him.

'I don't want to, I don't want to kill anyone,' you tell him.

'But surely you want to kill me! After all, I am the person who set off this whole chain of events, Byakuya and Teruteru are dead because of me, even Kazuichi and Nekomaru went to the extreme of tying me up and locking me in here because of how much they hate me!'

Somehow hearing his crimes rattled off like that is more exhausting than listening to him ramble on about hope. You're aware it probably should make you angrier than you already are but instead it just makes you tired. 'I don't want to kill you Nagito,' you sigh. 'I- I don't know what I want to do with you but I don't want to kill you. Not even after what you did.'

'Then let me help you! We can kill-'

'Nagito!' You snap, louder than before. Nagito's mouth shuts abruptly, whatever else he was going to say swallowed and kept in his stomach to be digested. 'I am not killing anyone, end of. I am going to feed you this sandwich and then I am going to leave. And- and you are not going to talk any more of murdering or being murdered during that time! Okay?'

'I didn't mean to make you angry, I just-' At the look in your eyes Nagito trails off, starting again and instead saying, '…will you help me sit up first? Kind of hard to be fed in this position.' It's probably just another act but Nagito sounds appropriately chagrinned enough that you sigh and agree. You're not doing it for him, you're doing it for you because he has a point, it is going to be hard to feed him when he's on his side like this.

'Yeah, c'mere,' you say, putting the plate down to lean over and grab him by the shoulders, pulling him up towards you. Nagito barely moves, just rocks awkwardly forwards and then rolls back onto his arms with an uncomfortable look on his face. The lack of movement isn his fault, with his arms pinned a combination of both behind and beneath him they're likely entirely numb, it's not like there's anything for him to push against to help him up, and his legs are bound.

He's entirely reliant on you, only able to stay still while you manipulate him and try to pull him upright so you put more effort into it, then when that doesn't work you put a considerable amount of force into it, then when that doesn't work you put so much force into it that finally you get him off the floor and upright- success!

You throw your arms up in the air in glee but your success is incredibly shortlived as it turns out you've pulled him so hard that as soon as your hands leave his shoulders Nagito comes crashing forwards, knocking you off balance with his shoulders and tipping you onto your back with gusto.

Your shoulders hit the floor first, knocking the breath from your body before your head connects, bouncing off the carpeted floorboards with a burst of pain. You can only watch, both dazed and speechless, as Nagito windmills wildly for a second even though his arms are still stuck behind him- which largely looks like him doing a bad impression of a fish on land- and then he's tipping forwards, shoulders crashing into your knees and scraping across your thigh with force as his face skids directly across your crotch.

Your knees come up reflexively as you groan in pain. The roof slips by above you repeatedly, the room spinning and you're too startled to move even once it's over. …What just happened? You replay the memory instantly yet still can't believe it even as you recall the sensation of Nagito's forehead bumping your thigh and then your crotch, before his cheek and the edge of his mouth slide smoothly across it.

The memory loops like the spinning of the roof above you and you're left reeling, feeling both very fucking relieved that he had the sense to turn his face to the side and also vaguely disappointed. …Do you still want to fuck Nagito??? You immediately shove that feeling in a box and pack it away to digest later because that is one thing too many to deal with right now.

'Uhm, I need a little help here…' Nagito calls out awkwardly from where he's trapped, head stuck laying on your lower stomach, neck between your legs leaning on- nope, cancel that thought- his shoulders pressed up against your thighs, no doubt leaving bruises from where he's unintentionally bullied your legs open. You sit up on your elbows, looking down at him, face burning as the reality that that really just happened sets in and then you're scrabbling backwards like a crab on your hands and heels, leaving Nagito to crash that last foot or so of space face first onto the floor with a groan.

'Oh shit,' you scrabble to your hands and knees, rushing forwards and adding carpet burned knees and palms to the injury of your now bruised thighs and ego as you grab Nagito by the shoulders again and then, with a similar but less unhinged level of force, lever him off the floor (and simultaneously his face) and up onto his knees with care not to immediately let go once you get him there.

'You really have a talent for that, are you sure you're not the Ultimate Klutz?' Nagito jokes after you've managed to settle him on his knees. This position also seems a little uncomfortable with how tightly his legs are tied together but you can help him lie back down once he's done eating. You can't help but feel a little grateful that he isn't choosing to make this situation more uncomfortable for you than he coul-

'Though I suppose it is equal now. If we had a penny for everytime you've fallen over and one of us has ended up with a face full of the other's crotch- …we'd only have two pennies, but it's weird that it's happened twice. If I didn't know any better I'd think you're a pervert like Teruteru and were doing it on purpose!'

'No. Nope. Definitely not on purpose,' you state quickly, too eager to deny what he's implying to feel sad about the mention of Teruteru- he might have been a massive perv but he was still gruesomely murdered.

'I don't know-' Nagito starts, voice musing like he really doesn't believe you so you reach over and punch him in the shoulder. Hard.

'Hey!' He shouts, 'that hurt.' You're sure if his hand was free to rub his arm it would be, the thought satisfies the part of you that's been getting more and more annoyed with his antics the longer you talk to him.

'It was meant to. I not want to kill you but that doesn't mean I don't want to punch you when you're being a dick.'

'You've really got a mean streak, you know,' Nagito grumbles.

'Shut up, I'm going to feed you now,' you inform him sharply, picking up the plate again and shuffling towards him on your knees. He is not going to make you feel bad for him, he deserved that, the fall was an accident- both times!

'What's with that look on your face? It's so scary. I'm starting to get worried you're going to hurt me some other way-'

You shove the sandwich in Nagito's mouth while it's open, effectively cutting him off and making him choke on his own words slightly. A vindictive little tingle of joy runs down your spine at the sight and you have to cut off a snicker as it worms itself free.

Nagito takes his time chewing, making a show out of savouring the sandwich before saying, 'wow! That was so good, you're a really good-'

'I didn't make it,' you cut him off before he can finish his sentence, 'you're not gonna butter me up by giving me unneccessary compliments,' you tell him.

Nagito shrugs like it's nothing, chucking out, 'oops. Caught me,' while shrugging his shoulders before he leans forwards to take another bite of the sandwich. Even though you just told him not to, his eyes flicker shut and he moans like the sandwich is the best thing he's eaten in his life- which is bizarre because you don't think Mahiru even bothered to butter the bread; Nagito might be eating what happens to be the driest sandwich in the world.

Nagito's eyelids flutter as he leans in to take another bite. He's looking up at you through his lashes in a way that you do not- you do not find attractive when he accidentally catches your finger in his mouth- and that's when you finally catch on.

There's no other way to interpret the look in his eyes than decidely seductive and he's watching you with an intensity that makes you want to squirm in place. His mouth is a burning wet heat on your finger, tongue brushing over in a way that can't be written off as an accident before his teeth graze your skin as he finally takes his bite and pulls back.

You know what he's doing, know this is a stupid ploy to get back into your good graces and yet for some reason it's fucking working. Your breath catches and sticks in your throat as your eyes fixate on his mouth. Nagito sits back, chewing with a smile on his face and his eyes closed, making sounds that would be inappropriate for a porn shoot, let alone eating a sandwich.

'Okay! That's it! I'm done,' you shout, far too loud for how close you're sitting to Nagito and you know this because he startles, eyes snapping open to look at you, bewildered as he stops chewing. Which is rich because he knows what he's doing, he's fucking with you on purpose. He stares at you for a moment before slowly resuming chewing and then deliberately swallowing. You don't know if it's on purpose but you feel more and more awkward as every second passes while you wait for him to speak.

'What? But I've only eaten half of my sandwich, are you just going to let me starve?' Of course the first thing out of his mouth is that.

'If you're eating it like that then yeah. I am,' you say shortly, not willing to entertain his feigned ignorance.

Nagito shrugs and hits you with a sunny smile, eyes crinkling from the force of it, 'how else am I supposed to eat it? With my eyes?'

'Like you're not trying to fuck it, maybe.'

'Wow, maybe you aren't just a klutz and you really are a pervert; what kind of outlandish thought is that? You think I want to fuck my sandwich?'

'No, I think you're using the sandwich as an erotic ploy to try and entice me into fucking you so I'll forgive you or fall into some other fucked up trap you've set.'

'Ah. So I was wrong earlier,' Nagito says cryptically.

You don't like where this is going… But against your better judgement you say, 'about what?'

'You're not into pet play. You're a feeder,' he states, like that means anything to you.

'I'm a what?' You ask.

'A feeder. Someone who gets off on feeding other people and making them fat.'

'I am fucking not-'

'It's the only explaination, after all, I was eating my sandwich is a completely normal manner and you here you are accusing me of seducing you. If I'd have known you were into this I wouldn't have asked you to feed me, it would be cruel to tease you like that. Although I am curious, do you find all food erotic or is it just sandwiches?'

You're going to hit him. You're going to hit him so hard it does kill him and he'll get his wish. You're really gonna do it. The second you stop shaking from rage you're gonna do it.

'Or, maybe for some indecipherable reason you're still into me and you just can't control yourself. It stands to reason that some people have a type that's just terrible, after all you did pull me on top of you earlier.' Nagito genuinely looks musing, like he's concentrating on trying to figure out a puzzle and not just being the most irritating man on Earth.

'Nagito, you are not winning yourself any points here by making me mad,' you grit out between clenched teeth.

Hearing this, Nagito smiles at you again, disposition startling sunny in comparison to how you're feeling currently. 'But you're not sad anymore, right?'

'I- what?' You ask, unsure if you heard him right.

'You looked really upset when you arrived earlier. When I saw that look on your face all I wanted was to wipe it off and replace it with something better. It's a bit early for hope, you're still regaining your strength of conviction from the shocking events of last night, but I figured I could make you angry pretty easily. I even managed to pull a laugh out of you, though it was because I was choking on the sandwich when you shoved it in my mouth abruptly. Not bad for someone as trash as I am.'

Nagito smiles proudly and you- …you don't know what to feel. Happy that someone's looking out for you? Angry at being manipulated again? Afraid that Nagito is so willing and able to lie at the drop of a hat? Conflicted, because in his own way he is, still, looking after you?

You swallow heavily, dropping the plate and climbing to your feet before turning to walk out the room again rather than deal with this. Yet again Nagito stops you in your tracks by chucking out, 'by the way I heard about the Twilight Syndrome Murder Case, was it?'

Your head snaps over to look at him and you freeze, midstep, 'how did you-?'

Nagito barrels on over your words to say, 'I have mixed feelings… I really liked that game a lot.'

'You've played it?' You ask, disbelief colouring your voice.

'Not this version, but I played it back home before we came here. I think it's going to be a really interesting motivation for whoever kills next. Have you played it yet?'

'There's not going to be a next killing, so no I have not played it yet- I'm not going to play it at all!' You shout, angry that he's brought it back to this.

'Oh well, I have to say I'm a little disappointed; it's not like you Ultimates to ignore the threat that's standing right in front of you. Do you think Monokuma will just let that slide?'

He's goading you. It clear from his voice. …But he does make a good point. Monokuma doesn't seem like the kind of human? Bear? Robot? …Being to let something he put out just be ignored. If you don't play it, he'll just make someone play it, and he'll probably pick the worst person for it- the person most likely to kill because of it…

'You guys should confront it… after all, hope springs when you confront despair.' Nagito continues and this time it's convincing. Maybe you just needed the right motivation to believe him- which is even more convincing, what if the game is the exact right motivation for someone else to believe Monokuma?

You still don't agree with Nagito's true intentions, and you still don't know how you feel about him now, but he is right: you might not want to kill anyone but you need to know what's coming, you need to play that game. You spring to your feet, turning and rushing out the room as you hear Nagito call, 'wait! What about my sandwich? I'm hungry!' after you.

Later, in your cabin alone when you're trying to decipher how Twlight Syndrome Murder Case could be a motivation for murder, you realise you left Nagito sitting upright and that he's going to have to flop onto his face to lie down to sleep again. …It serves him right. He's never going to make up for what he did to Byakuya and Teruteru, but this way you can at least feel a little better about the fact that he lied to you. You decide to call it penance for his crimes- the lessor ones, that is.

xxxxxxxx

I've not finished the game so no spoilers please!

i really liked who nagito was before and am autistic enough that i did not pick up on his shifty vibes i just thought he was socially inept but trying his best like me. i spent the first half of chapter 1 going 'hajime!! stop thinking hes weird hes sweet! leave him alone u meanie!!1!'

his character switch is fun and its a cool flip on game 1's whole ethos but it did make me sad for a minute (and also a little horny WHAT business does he have looking so enticing trussed up like a pig, what a horny fucking shot with his stupid fucking smile and that VOICE?? my god…)

anyway i might add to this as i play btu i also might not so read this as a standalone for now

gosh danganronpa is fun. i played the first one last year and only got around to this one recently. i always knew nagito was a tumblr sexy man and was like yeah ok iget u ig but then i started the game and his personality was so NORMAL??? AND NICE??? I WAS CONFUSED???? and then i got ATTACHED snd he switched up on me and i HATED new nagito,,, but i finally understood why tumblr thought he was a sexy man hahahahaha

i had to take a breather from playing so i wrote this fic to reconcile my feelings like damn. but now i can enjoy nagitos character and how interesting it makes things to have an antagonist within the player charcters collective group yk? bc ya technically sakura was an antagonist for a little bit but she wasnt rly bc we found out she was a spy AS she rebelled against monokuma yk? to have someone who does genuinely fucked shit for their own reasons, not blackmail or being forced when theyre not even the villain/dont view themselves as one is very fun im excited to see where his charcater goes.

Anyway i might add to this as i play btu i also might not so read this as a standalone for now.

anyways! let me know if there are any egregious typos! and leave me a comment (please? pretty please? i need them im weakkkkkk) (jk but please do leave a comment i love hearing from yall :)))) )

*edit, sometimes I reread first when I've posted bc I catch more typos that way and I fucking made nagito rub his arm when they're chained behind his back ahabaha brain fart moment frrrrrrr

"M'notick" Luke mumbled, then considerably perked up as he saw the plate Vince was carrying.

Up close, they could tell Lucas looked off. Beyond just the odd behavior, he was also looking a little pale, eyes with shadows around them and a pinkish hue to his nose that made Bella squint. Had he been blowing or rubbing at it while trying to be inconspicuous?

The thermometer beeped and she retrieved it before he could grab it, jumping out of Luke's reach.

"Sorry, handsome, 99.5ºF, that's a fever in my book," Bella said, sounding a little smug as her husband pouted and collapsed dramatically back against the cushions.

"I'm just warm, it's not a fever."

"Uh-huh," she circled it, perching herself on the couch's arm and ran her fingers through his hair, knuckles brushing against his forehead. More than just a little overheated, "just get some rest, Luke. No point pretending you're not sick."

"I don't pretend I'm not sick," Luke scoffed, which caused Vince to snicker, sitting down on the couch opposite to them.

"He really doesn't, he bitches and moans for hours, you'd know," Vin shrugged, only to receive a couch pillow straight on his face. Apparently the fever hadn't damaged Luke's aim one bit.

"I don't bitch either!"

Bella giggled, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of his head, "you don't bitch, you whine."

"I'm sick and being ganged up on," Luke groaned, curling up his legs and rubbing at his face, thinking he was being oh so very smooth at hiding how he was actually rubbing his nose, "you two are the worst."

Bella rolled her eyes at his mannerisms, jumping from the couch to go sit near their fireplace, where they kept most of her records collection, "because you're sick you get to pick the music, baby."

Luke was busy grabbing two croissants off of Vin's plate and he shrugged, mouth already full, "you know I don't care-"

"I care," Vince interjected, "please no metal. I'm actually begging."

"And you have the nerve to call me dra-ah-AMATCISKFZEW!" Luke sneezed loudly mid phrase, jumping on the couch and crumbling a pastry in his fist as he did so, "shit, my croissant..."

Vince cackled at his expense, while Bella took pity on Luke, maybe because he looked close to tears at his now destroyed pastry.

"You can have mine," she crawled on the rug, passing him her plate, "and lie back down, I'll grab you a blanket."

"Can't Vince grab a blanket and you cuddle me?"

Vince rolled his eyes so hard he feared they might get stuck, "you're such a big baby."

"Yeah, Vin can grab the blanket," Bella promptly sided with Luke, causing him to beam and Vince to scoff at her.

"You're babying him."

"Because he is my baby," Bella shrugged, getting a mischievous look on her face as she tackled Luke, covering his face with kisses, "my. Six. Foot. Four. Nearly. Thirty. Years. Old. Baby!"

Luke let out a whine as she continued to kiss all over his face, covering it in lipgloss, "Bella, what the hell- My head hurts!"

"He's juuuust a babyy-" she held him by the hair, almost managing to headlock him, "Poor sickly- I could bi-ITE yOU!" She punctuated the last phrase by biting Luke's bicep, pinching his sides and he nearly threw her off the couch as they tickle wrestled.

Vince snorted at their antics, deciding to abide and get a blanket. When he came back, he threw it on top of their heads, as Bella continued to try and wrestle Luke, whose face was no longer pale, but pink. If it was from exertion or embarrassment, Vince didn't know.

"Lemme- Stop- STOP!" He shouted, only to immediately fold down with a coughing fit. He clutched his throat, groaning, "awn-"

"Shit," Bella was fallen on her ass on the rug, face flushed and sweaty, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

"It's fi-ASHTSKEW!" Lucas let out a groan as a powerful sneeze caused him to hurry to cover his face, as he got snot all over his palm, "Oh'gross..."

He got up, swaying a little, walking to the downstairs bathroom to blow his nose and wash his face. When he returned Bella cringed, now he was really pale.

"Okay, c'mere, mi vida," she opened her arms, sitting on the couch and Luke let out a pained groan as he collapsed down onto her lap, hiding his face on her thigh, "you're really warm."

"Hmm," he yawned, closing his eyes and Bella felt a pang to her heart. She hated seeing Luke without energy, it just felt extremely wrong.

Her hand ran through his hair, curling the wavy strands around her fingers as Vince switched through the channels and ended up settling on a HGTV show.

Luke's weight slumped, as he actually started to relax, green eyes locked onto the TV screen. Bella ran her thumb over his forehead, smoothing the wrinkle between his eyebrows away.

"I don't think I've ever watched this channel," Luke mumbled and Bella cringed, his voice was hoarse as hell.

"Never?" Vin frowned, confused, "not even in passing?"

"I don't think so?" His eyes were droopy and he shivered violently, "why are they renovating the house if they're gonna sell it?"

"It's called house flipping," Vin stretched on the opposite couch, "you buy a shabby place, upgrade it yourself for cheap, up its price, sell, rinse repeat."

"Sounds predatory," Luke scrunched up his nose, while Vin shrugged, unbothered. Bella let out a little scoff.

"They're upgrading a place, how's that predatory?"

"Isn't that gonna cause gentrifi-ShWAZOn-" He interrupted himself with a powerful sneeze, quickly followed by two others. Luke clutched his head and Bella all but forgot about their previous conversation.

"Your head hurts?"

"Is it a migraine?" Vince asked, looking concerned. Bella had heard about the recent cluster episode that had happened while she was in New Mexico and although she knew, objectively, that there was nothing she could've done and that it wasn't her fault for being away when it had happened, it still left a bad taste in her mouth.

"Not a migraine," Luke sniffled, turning on the couch so he was facing the ceiling, or rather, Bella's nose, "just a headache."

"Hmmm," Vince squinted at him, while Bell turned her head down, twirling a hair strand of his between her fingers.

"Let's get some meds in you," she folded in half, pressing a kiss to his feverish forehead. Was he warmer than ten minutes ago?

In order for Lucas to have meds he needed to eat and apparently, as he said, crumbly croissants were not a meal. They ended up having lunch in the actual dining room, a rare occurrence because normally they ate in the living room in front of the TV or in the kitchen, and while Luke started eating excitedly, it quickly dimmed and he was left pushing his steak around his plate, as well as the mashed potatoes.

"I'll finish for you," Vince fished Luke's plate from him and the other man let out a huff, another uncharacteristic trait, letting others take his food like that.

"Are you okay?" Bella paused eating, inspecting him closely. Luke shrugged.

"Head hurts," he planted an elbow to the table, cradling his head and staring down at his lap, "stuffy."

"Go lie down on the couch, baby," Bell suggested and Luke shook his head, stubbornly.

"Lonely."

She let out a huff, smiling at him, "it's not gonna be long-"

"Nuh-huh," Luke lowered his forehead to the table, sniffling and coughing at his lap, "m'not going."

Vince rolled his eyes, shuffling closer as he continued to chew and pressed his arm to Luke's. He was most definitely warmer, something Bell probably concluded too since she was eyeing him worriedly.

They ate and chatted, over the constant background noise of Luke groaning like an old man and occasionally coughing and sneezing, only getting up to blow his nose. By the third time he did that, Vin and Bell got rid of all the food and took the plates back to the kitchen, piling them into the dishwater.

"Hey," Bella crouched down in front of the couch when they returned to the living room, finding Luke cocooned into three blankets he had retrieved from upstairs and curled up on the smallest of the two couches, which was a choice considering his height, "talk to me, you're looking a little clammy."

Luke's nose was really red from all the blowing and rubbing and he was pale as a ghost, but Bell was right, to top it off there was now a sheen of sweat covering him that wasn't good news.

"Feel gross," he whined pathetically, raising his head just enough to gesture to the cushion, "cuddle?"

Vin rolled his eyes at their antics, running upstairs to grab a book, just as outside a thunder exploded. The temperature was dropping considerably, so Vin put on a sweater and grabbed one of his chunky cardigans for Bella as well.

She beamed at him as Vin dropped it on top of her head, circling the coffee table to collapse on the opposite couch. Luke was now draped over her lap and coughing, surfing through their streaming apps.

They settled on some dumb sheep mystery movie that had Bella sucked into it like a little kid, while Luke bitched about the sheep. Vince drowned them out, focused on his novel.

About fifteen minutes in, Luke squirmed and braced against Bella's thigh, pushing himself up.

"Where are you going-"

Instead of answering her, he pressed a fist to his mouth, muffling a deep burp in it. Bella raised her eyebrows, hands frozen in the air as she was about to check his fever, "reflux?"

"Nuh-huh," he turned his head, muffling a deep chesty cough on his elbow crook and it morphed in a bit of a gag at its tail end. Vince lowered his book.

"Bowl?"

Luke shook his head, raising a hand to stop both Vince from asking and Bella from fussing as he continued to try and hack up a lung. Then suddenly a particularly watery cough had him shooting up and rushing out of the living room, towards the downstairs bathroom.

Bella was up on her feet immediately and Vince cringed as he heard what he couldn't make out as coughs or gags.

Luke stumbled back a couple minutes later, now swaying on his feet, arms crossed in some sort of self hug as he shivered. Bella was shortly behind, bringing with her the roll of toilet paper and the bathroom waste basket.

"Are you nauseous?" Vince stretched to grab the remote control, pausing the movie.

"Just a little," he sat down on the couch, elbows perched on his knees as he stared at the coffee table, trying to figure out if it was safe to lie down. Bella slid right next to him, planting a hand on his back and rubbing up and down in a soothing manner.

"Let's hope you didn't throw up the tylenol," she sighed, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, "you're really warm, I don't like it."

"Yeah, I'm dying," he groaned, deciding he was fine enough and tipping to the side to return to their initial positions, except this time Luke had his back turned to the TV and his face pressed to Bella's stomach, "rub my belly?"

"So it is a bellyache?" Bella asked, squirming under him so she could plant her feet on the coffee table and shuffling with the covers in order to get her hand on her husband's stomach, fingers moving in slow circular motions.

"No," he interrupted himself with another burp, followed by a groan, "I don't know, I feel like crap. My head hurts, my stomach hurts, my back, my eyes, my-"

"What doesn't hurt?" She snickered, grinning at his little baby attitude, all the while Vince decided their were fine and returned to his book.

"My hair?" Luke pouted, wrapping an arm around her waist, "not even sure if that."

Bella let her hand slide under the curve of his belly, where it met the elastic of his sweatpants, then back up with pressure all the way to his navel, causing Luke to squirm and muffle a burp against the blanket, "you're sounding terribly pukey, captain."

"I'm not," he guided her hand closer to his ribs, "don't press so much, I'm all... Fragile."

"Fragile," she chuckled at the word, running her knuckles against his ribcage, "that's a word for it. Don't throw up on my lap."

"I'm not gonnaa-ahA-AatSCHOow! ," he groaned loudly at the powerful sneeze, followed by three others and then stretched out a hand so Bell could pass him a wad of toilet paper, "kill me."

"Not happening," she pressed her free hand over his forehead, wiping away the clamminess, "I want to check your temperature again."

"Uhm," Luke shuffled, so he was now belly up instead of lying on his side and allowed Bell to put the thermometer in his mouth, glaring at nowhere. His eyes were shining with fever and there was now a permanent red splotch in the middle of pale cheeks.

Bella continued to rub his stomach, fingers barely ghosting over his skin, as she waited for the device to beep. Here and there he squirmed as she tickled him by accident.

"How much is it?" Luke asked, when it finally beeped and Bella retrieved it.

"Uhm-100.2ºF," she snorted, "not that high, honestly."

"There's no way," Lucas whined, "m'dying! This must be broken."

Bella giggled, shaking her head, relieved by the lower than expected temperature, "I don't think so, baby."

"It totally is, gimme it-" he snatched the device from her hands, pressing the reset button and putting it back on his mouth, "otta'ee'oken"

"Sure it is," Bella's voice dripped with sarcasm and Luke let out a scoff, glaring at her.

"On'ean"

"What's that?" She plucked the thermometer right out of his mouth and Luke let out an offended cry.

"I said don't be mean!"

"I'm not," Bella's relief at the lack of seriousness of his condition was palpable, she looked at the thermometer in her hand, "uh-oh, now you're 99ºF."

"Ah, fuck off," Luke curled up, trying to hide himself against her, "I am dying, I don't care what this stupid thing says."

"Can you die in silence? I'm trying to read," Vince voiced, shaking his novel and then had to dodge as Lucas promptly threw a cushion at him.

"Don't be a dick," he sniffled, rubbing at his face, "let's just watch the movie."

"I think the butcher did it," Bella said, shuffling around so they were back into cuddling, "or maybe one of the sheep."

"You think one of the sheep killed a guy?" Luke scoffed, "were you even watching? They love him."

"Yeah, but they forget things on purpose. Maybe they killed him and don't remember it," Bell slid her hand down his stomach and let out a little cuteness aggression squeal as she grabbed a handful of pudge, folding by the middle to kiss temple, "you're so squishy today."

"Yeah, keep squeezing me and I will hurl," Lucas poked her hand, trying to free himself, "it's testy already, don't push it."

"Sorry, sorry, you're just so cute, I can't help it," she was smiling from ear to ear and Vince let out a loud suffering sigh.

"You two are disgusting," he sat up, "I'm gonna read in my room."

"Someone is salt-AH!"

They were dipped into the dark as a loud thunder exploded over their heads and the power flickered and went out.

"Shit," Vince whispered, ignoring Luke saying that was karma for him trying to go read alone. Bella was up and moving already, in search of her lighter to light up the million candles she had scattered around the house.

"Now it looks haunted, great," Vince glared at the various black and red candles they had upon the fireplace mantlepiece, "we're months away from Halloween."

"It's never too early for Halloween," Bella shrugged, the smacked his chest, passing him the lighter, "get the fireplace going."

"Why me?"

"Because Luke is sick-"

"He doesn't even know how to get a fireplace going in the first place-"

"Slander on my name! I learned!"

"-and because I told you so," Bella ignored both their comments, walking back to the couch to curl up with Luke, "chop chop."

"So bossy," Vince scoffed, but considering it was far too dark to read and that it was pretty cold even for him, probably even worse for Luke, he got to it with minimal complaint.

They had extra logs in the mudroom close to the kitchen and Vince had to grab some old newspaper to use as fuel for the fire, but it eventually caught on, just as they heard the wind howling outside.

"It's bending the backyard trees," Vin pointed out, ditching the couch so he could sit down criss crossed on the rug, head near Luke's feet because no way he was gonna sit close to the wastebasket.

"Soo... What do we do now?" Luke asked, restless.

The cold drizzle clung to his curls in a sparkly sheen, the drops almost snowflakes but not quite yet. Tommy slipped through the door into the apartment, closing the latch quickly as to keep the foul weather outside. The hallway in front of him lay in darkness, there was no light spilling from under any of the cracks under the doors, no sound of the TV. Sol must've been asleep already.

Quickly, Tommy shed his coat and Dr. Martens boots, ruffled his scarf through his hair to dry it and made for their bedroom. Through the gap in the curtains the street light shone a warm glimpse over the carpet and the bed where Sol was sound asleep. As quietly as possible Tommy slipped out of his clothes, the battered jeans and Tesco polo shirt carelessly thrown over the bench on the end of the bed, and rummaged for his pyjamas. He always slept in pyjamas, especially in winter when he swapped them for a long sleeved sweatshirt and long pants. Sol however stayed in his boxer shorts year round.

"It's because you're so skinny," Sol had teased him. "You're running cold."

But honestly for Tommy there was nothing better than to get cosy under a large blanket with his boyfriend who also posed as a human radiator.

Said boyfriend stirred slightly as Tommy crawled into bed next to him, one eye half open, his arms welcoming him into an embrace.

"Jesus Christ," Sol muttered, "you're freezing, Tommy."

He just hummed in response, pressing himself tighter against the warmth of Sol, Tommy's hands landing at his sides.

"Thomas," Sol gasped, the cold sending a shiver over him.

"Warm me up," Tommy just said, sound muffled by the way he spoke against Sol's shoulder.

Sol just grumbled and tugged the duvet closer around them, their limbs entangled and then they were both asleep within minutes.

When Sol woke the room was tinged in a mute grey. The rain had turned into proper snow over night and had the world covered with a thin blanket of white. A rare but very welcome sight in London. It wouldn't be long until the cars and busses and children playing in the snow would turn it into a dirty mass of sludge, but for now Sol could enjoy the big snowflakes dancing in front of the window.

Carefully as ever he tried to pry Tommy's grip from around himself, but with little success.

"Need to piss…" Sol murmured, voice thick with sleep, but Tommy only drew his arms tighter around his body and grumbled. He was still half asleep and unwilling of letting go of his teddy bear of a boyfriend.

"Can wait," Tommy answered, his breath warm against Sol's neck and he fanned a hand out over his chest. Sol could feel that Tommy was hard in his pyjama pants, but wasn't doing anything about it, his length pressed against Sol's buttocks.

"Had a nice dream…," Tommy sighed as if he knew what Sol was thinking about. "The whole football team had you passing around…"

Sol choked out a laugh, his sleepy mind and, well, not so sleepy cock not entirely indignant of the idea.

"Be patient for me, hmm?" the man behind him hummed and by the way Sol could hear his breathing even out, Tommy had fallen asleep again.

He huffed another laugh and then closed his eyes as well, trying to keep his mind from wandering, even though it was clear that Tommy had a wicked plan for their Sunday morning.

The next time Sol woke up it was from Tommy's hand gently caressing his stomach, drawing big circles over his soft tummy, fingers threading into the coarse hair there.

"Morning," he hummed when he noticed that Sol was awake, who on his part pressed his face into the pillow as to rub away the sleep.

"Mornin'," came back in his muffled Scouse accent.

"Still need to piss?"

Tommy was straight forward, something Sol loved and admired about him and he nodded, smiling sheepishly.

"Had two pints last night."

"Oh. Well, that explains it…"

Dexterous fingers travelled southwards and Tommy easily squeezed Sol's cock through his boxers, making him gasp.

"Do you want to do something about it, or…?"

"Keep doing that, will you?" Sol groaned, slowly rutting his hips against the touch.

"Brat," he huffed in response, a small smirk pulling on his lips.

Sol only grumbled and then with his feet he started to kick away the duvet. He was getting too warm for this and even Tommy must've felt it, because he pushed himself to a sitting position to pull off his sweatshirt, chucking it away alongside.

"Grab the blanket," Tommy said then and Sol shuffled to fetch it from the bottom corner of their bed.

They had bought this specific waterproof throw after the first time things had gone a bit too messy. When Tommy had Sol on all fours, fingering him until all Sol could do was sob from pleasure and his striking third orgasm hadn't been as dry as they both had expected. Sol had felt too good to be embarrassed in that moment and Tommy had encouraged him to let go after the initial second of shocked surprise had subsided. The aftermath still had been a bit of a bummer, because who on earth enjoyed cleaning up piss stained bedding right after sex.

It took a bit of shuffling and rolling around, but they managed rather quickly to spread out the soft blanket underneath them.

Tommy was kneeling between Sol's legs, the other man's thighs hooked around his waist, their cocks rubbing together in a deliciously slow rhythm.

"I'll have you like this," Tommy murmured, his eyes transfixed on the body under him, his hands travelling up and down Sol's belly and chest, groping at the meat of it wherever he could. It had Sol humming low in his throat. He enjoyed it greatly when Tommy treated him like this, gentle and careful like Sol was his most prized possession.

Sometimes it overwhelmed Sol how easily they had clicked that first night they had fallen into his bed together. How their sex was insanely good, how they got on without it as well. There were no awkward mornings after, no will-he-won't-he on either side. No jealousy from Tommy after Sol had confessed he wouldn't want to stop posting adult content just because they were seeing each other. Instead, one day after they had been at the pitch with their mates, the late summer sun setting over the trees and roofs, Tommy had leaned against Sol's chest as they sat on the ground, fiddling with the laces of his shoes and said: "I'm in love with you." Everything suddenly had been less frightening as Sol realised that Tommy was just as enthusiastic about their relationship as he was, and he simply had answered "me too, Tommy". Which was what had them move in together after only a couple of months.

"All right?" Tommy questioned, an eyebrow raised as his hands stopped exploring.

"Yeah— yeah," Sol had to chuckle at himself, "just thought about how lucky I am to have you."

The other man smiled serenely at that and lifted Sol's leg to rest over his shoulder. Tommy pressed a kiss against his calf and sighed in content, "I love you."

"I love you," echoed Sol and pulled Tommy towards him as much as his flexibility allowed.

They kissed for the better half of a minute, languidly and without any rush, their tongues sliding together as if they slowly wanted to devour each other. Sol's leg dropped from Tommy's grip again as he made work to pull down his boxer shorts, the garment quickly discarded by the side of the bed. Sol's dick was heavy and hard against his stomach, leaving a shining smear of precum in his happy trail. Tommy ducked his head to press his lips wetly against Sol's neck, his collarbone, down to his pecs and stomach as far as he could reach in his kneeling position. It elicited a deep hum from Sol and he pushed one hand into Tommy's curls.

"Tease…" he muttered with a grin, running his big palm through Tommy's hair, the other man leaning into it as if he was a cat being pet.

"Nah…" Tommy all but purred, the sound elongated in his throat as he watched Sol's face while wrapping a hand around his dick.

"That's it," Sol breathed, slightly tensing though, because the urge to piss doubled with his cock being touched.

With his free hand Tommy quickly reached for the bottle of lube on the night stand and slicked his fingers in a practised gesture. It was easy to slip two in with how often Sol had something up his arse.

"Relax…"

But Sol shook his head, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to pee, his body clearly having other plans than to listen to his sheer willpower.

"You can do it, darling, I know that you can. Be good for me and hold it."

The man underneath Tommy whined, his hips rolling against the stimulation, Sol's face pressed to the side.

"Breathe…"

Tommy was wicked with his fingers, knowing exactly where to rub and how to angle his wrist, twisting it so Sol would feel heavenly.

Sol was trembling all over now.

"I know it feels like it's too much, but you can do it."

The speed of his hand picked up while Tommy mouthed quiet praises against the dip between his thigh and hip, licking at the sweaty skin.

"Please," Sol gasped, the proximity of Tommy's lips to his dick maddening. He just wanted to get off.

"Please what?" Tommy feigned innocence.

"Touch me please…"

"But won't that make it so much harder?"

An extremely well pointed thrust with his hand made Sol keen, his back arching and cock twitching.

"Shhh," Tommy hummed, pressing Sol down, his body landing heavy against the mattress.

"You'll cum first, all right?"

Sol nodded quickly, his voice shaky when he answered, "Yes, yes…!"

Tommy shifted his position, kneeling between Sol's legs, inserting another finger to give his boyfriend the right stretch he loved so much.

"Oh— Tommy—" Sol was rambling breathlessly, his hips moving on their own account, matching speed and rhythm with Tommy's hand. He almost shouted when slender fingers finally wrapped around his cock, jerking him off in a quick motion.

"Oh, oh fuck—" Repeated moans flooded the room, Sol twisting in the sheets, writhing as Tommy slowly took him apart.

It was only mere seconds that Sol had to register that he'd spend, his orgasm hitting him like a kick to the guts and he spilled with a long cry, his body going stiff as ropes of white shot over his stomach and chest. Tommy's enamoured gasp was barely audible over the blood rushing in his ears and he only realised that he was being talked to after a few long moments when his view cleared from the dancing white stars and the blurriness of tears sticking to his eyelashes.

"You've done so well, darling. You're so good. Cumming for me, the prettiest picture."

Tommy was always so generous with praise, and really Sol should've found it silly, but it grounded him, it helped and made him feel warm and adored. For a long time he didn't know it was that what he had needed, the little something that made their connection so much stronger and deeper than any relationship Sol had had before. The unconditional love Tommy had at hand for him any time, even when they were playing in bed like this, the line to humiliation so thin.

"Fuck me—" Sol slurred in a daze, his whole body shivering from the come down and the way he was obviously still very aroused.

"Hmm?"

Licking at the pools of cum on his chest, Tommy had bent over his body, collecting the drops on his tongue, making his way up to press his lips against Sol's open mouth, kissing Sol's spend back to him.

It took a moment for Sol to collect his thoughts again before he repeated, "Fuck me, Tommy. Please."

"Okay, yeah."

Pyjama bottoms off and a quick swipe of lube to his cock and Tommy shuffled so he could sit on his heels while Sol turned around, his shaking thighs barely able to hold his body up as he knelt on the sheets.

"Fuck, you're so desperate for it."

Tommy's hands gripped at Sol's hips as he pushed in, Sol choking on air at the feeling. He was so sensitive, close to overstimulated, but it was glorious. They set a fast pace, Sol's raspy moans punched from his lungs and then— He sobbed when he couldn't hold it anymore, the first leak splashing onto the blanket with a filthy loud hiss.

"There's a good boy," Tommy murmured, gently rubbing Sol's flank as he pounded into him.

The second leak followed suit, longer this time, a puddle of piss slowly gathering where his knees left a dent in the mattress. Sol was barely holding on, high on hormones while his face was stained with tears, his body coated in a thin sheen of sweat. He was trembling, clutching onto the blanket for dear life as Tommy fucked his brains out.

"Come on, darling, let go…"

There was no way Sol would object. His bladder emptied at once, the hot stream of piss hitting the blanket, drops splashing back against his body as he gulped for air.

"Gonna— Gonna cum— Again—"

His vision went black as another orgasm rolled over him, watery cum mixing with piss.

Sol could swear he was gone for a moment.

Tommy fucked him through it, cursing under his breath as Sol tightened around him. He just managed to pull out before he came, shooting his load over Sol's shaking back and arse, the cum sticking to his coarse body hair.

"Jesus fuck…" Tommy huffed breathlessly, his gaze unfocused as he stared down at his ruined boyfriend.

Sol's eyes were closed and there was a faint smile on his lips. Tommy leaned over him to push a hand through his hair, coaxing him gently back to consciousness.

"Hey there," he said in a loving tone. "You're all right?"

Sol nodded slowly, blinking the hazy feeling away.

"Good, come on."

He carefully nudged Sol's hip, his other hand moving down his thigh to his knee, guiding him away from the wet spot in the blanket so Sol could lie down comfortably, his legs stretched. Tommy started to massage the strain out of them, first one then the other, drawing circles with his fingers to help relax the muscles, and Sol let all the motions wash over himself, surrendered to the tender loving care, his eyes falling shut again.

He must've dozed off or at least been lost in his thoughts, because Sol startled a bit as he felt soft lips pressed to his. Tommy couldn't suppress a chuckle and kissed a trail over Sol's cheeks to his eyebrow and then his forehead.

"You're all sticky, my love."

"Wonder whose fault that is…" Sol grumbled in response, but there was no heat behind it.

"I'll run us a bath, hm?"

"That's what I like to hear."

Tommy laughed again, pressing another kiss to Sol's damp forehead.

"Of course. Love you."