Chapter Text
Before now, the concept of the future had been something Komaeda hadn’t put much real world thought into.
To him, it had been similar to other nebulous, immaterial concepts, such as the endlessness of space, how stars could still be seen from Earth long after they died, how the ocean was vast but mostly unexplored. It was stuff so horrific or saddening to consider, but so wildly out of your control you simply shrugged and moved on with your day. Afterall, Komaeda had known for a long time now that he didn’t have a future.
Yet, somehow, he’d been having to confront the idea of it more and more lately, no matter how much he tried to ignore it.
If he had the right to voice such an opinion, Komaeda would definitely say that much like almost everything else to do with the Reserve Course, he desperately disliked the accommodation.
The rooms were small. No, even small was too generous a word to describe them. Komaeda understood that he probably had a skewed view on what a regular sized room looked like, but he felt that even this was peaking its toes over the line of what constituted the difference between a ‘room’ and a ‘cupboard’. It was cramped, oppressively so. Even with just a small, cheap bed that felt like it was made of cardboard from top to bottom, a wardrobe so flimsy Komaeda didn’t want to touch it in case it collapsed under the pressure, and a desk pushed against a yellowing wall that’s bumps and holes were sloppily filled in and never painted over, making it patchy, rough, and inconsistent, the room seemed way too crowded. It had natural lighting at least, with one decently sized window at the end of the room. But even this turned sour when the room held heat like an oven, meaning most of the time it was better to just keep the curtains closed, the window open, and the bug shield firmly shut.
Komaeda wouldn’t recommend staying there to anyone. Not least visit for a moment. There was nothing worthwhile in the entire building, and if he had a choice, it’d be flattened just for the crime of being such a terrible eyesore. Komaeda couldn’t stand for ugliness in any aspect, especially when it stood in the way of potential beauty. It was just wholly disappointing. Komaeda felt the need to hold back a long and deep sigh every time he so much as glanced at the forsaken building.
It became especially annoying when ‘potential’ and ‘beauty’ were the only reason he even breathed in the direction of the Reserve Course dorms. Though, he was sure if Hinata heard him use either of those words to describe him, he’d get shouted at, despite how true they were.
So, he bit his tongue. It wasn’t like his opinion wasn’t already shared by Hinata anyway. He’d just be stating the obvious, and Komaeda’s distaste for that ran much deeper than for unappealing architecture and aesthetics.
They didn’t usually come here. Both of them preferred to visit Komaeda. Even if the rooms Hope’s Peak provided were nicer, there was no battle between a home and an apartment when it came to comfort and privacy. Komaeda rarely bent to visiting Hinata in his dorm, and he rarely had to. But as he knew through and through, rare didn’t mean impossible. Hinata was a bit too caught up in the steeply increasing workload of his steadily approaching final few months at the school to be wasting time travelling to Komaeda’s house and further wasting his parent’s money on a room nobody used. With that and the extra university prep classes Hope’s Peak were hosting for the Reserve Course students to take, they didn’t get much time to see each other unless it was Komaeda hanging around while Hinata did his work.
It could get a bit lonely. Everyone else in his class was on a similar boat to Hinata, it seemed, except him. Though, that was to be expected. Most days he just tried not to think about it. Even so, sitting in the same room as Hinata and keeping himself occupied while he wasn’t needed was better than being in his house where he really was truly and utterly alone. Now he knew the opposite, the silence in his house could sometimes feel like a cruel and unusual torture. It was fine though. He would endure through worse for the pleasure of seeing Hinata and his classmates again.
It wasn’t all bad. Even aside from the massive plus of Hinata being there, it was also a space Hinata owned and shaped, all on his own. Komaeda brushed his hands over Hinata’s desk, covered in pens and rubber shavings and papers half organised, like once they had been put into a neat pile, but the pile had been disturbed and never corrected. There was a cute toy, some sort of character or mascot, a white bunny with a pink, frilly skirt and a determined expression, sitting in the corner of the desk, just out of place enough that Komaeda may believe that it had been tossed there without intent and forgotten about. But the way it sat properly, facing the space Hinata would sit at, surrounded by items that should’ve surely knocked it over, Hinata’s fondness for it became obvious. Komaeda smiled, biting the inside of his cheek. How unexpected.
He opened a drawer of the desk, and it rattled loudly in the quiet of the room. The dragging, rumbling hush of the wheels against their threads combined with the rolling and crashing of the many, many miscellaneous items haphazardly stored in the drawer bringing immediate and loud attention to Komaeda’s actions. It didn’t faze him. He picked up a curious, long toy, brightly coloured and fuzzy. It moved fluidly as Komaeda turned it this way and that. Then he saw its eyes, and realised it was supposed to be some kind of snake or a worm. He blinked, staring at its googly eyes.
He didn’t get it.
He put it back and pushed through the other items, filing through empty gatcha cases, random stationary, buttons, and cute keyrings.
“Hinata’s stare is very heavy.” He shut the drawer and dusted off his hands, “You must be thinking something particularly dark.”
“Huh?”
Komaeda opened the next drawer, kneeling to its level. This one was slightly more organized. It seemed to be where he kept his notepads. He picked one out and flicked through it. It was empty. “You’re staring at me like I’m a deer with a broken leg, Mr. Wolf.”
“I-I’m not staring.” Hinata stuttered, an urgency to his voice that made it even more obvious he was staring. “And don’t make such weird metaphors about us.”
Komaeda laughed, putting away another empty notebook and shutting the drawer. “Ok, ok.”
He dusted his hands before resting them on his knees. Hinata sat on his bed and pouted, staring stubbornly now at the wall in front of him, as if to prove a point. No matter how long Komaeda waited, he didn’t provide an answer. He sighed, hugged his knees to his chest, rested his cheek on them, and moaned,
“Why would anyone want to stare at someone as ugly and detestable as me anyway-“
Hinata snapped to him with a sharp expression and shouted, “It wasn’t like that, and you know it!”
Komaeda couldn’t hold back his smirk no matter how hard he tried, “So you admit you were staring?”
Hinata seemed like he was about to argue back out of impulse only. When Komaeda’s words registered, he stopped, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Before he sighed, cheeks staining slightly red as he gripped his knees and grumbled,
“You’re such a pain.”
Komaeda giggled, way too happy with himself, but overall let it go. He was still curious to know what was worrying Hinata. He’d been acting a bit strangely lately, zoning out and going deep in thought with a worried expression creasing his brow, more so than usual. He was hoping maybe now that they were alone, he’d talk about it. But Komaeda had never really been good at emotional things like this. He didn’t really know what to say to Hinata to make him open up. Asking him directly was much too simple. Hinata always avoided that type of head-on approach.
For now, Komaeda decided to leave him to it. Maybe he’d open up later on. He tended to get more loose-lipped when he was tired.
Komaeda stood up and picked up a book resting on the edge of the desk. He leaned back against the desk and read the blurb of the book; his eyebrows raised in mild interest.
“What’s this book like?” He asked, flipping to the first page, and skimming through the words.
“I dunno, I haven’t picked it up in like 2 weeks. I’m only 3 chapters in. I haven’t really had time to read…”
Komaeda gave him a shocked look, “Eh? You were doing so well too.” Hinata shrugged, Komaeda lifted the book, hiding his face behind it and giving Hinata a sly look over the top of it, “Does Hinata want me to read it to him?”
“No, I want you to stop snooping through my stuff. What are you even looking for?”
Komaeda ignored him, turning back to the desk and picking through the papers spread across it, “What's yours is mine, right?”
“W-We aren’t married!”
“Aww…” Komaeda pouted, picking up a stack of papers and tapping them back into uniform order. As he did, one tumbled out of the pile, fluttering onto the desk, almost onto the floor. Komaeda picked it up. He hadn’t been intending to read it, but a logo in the corner caught his eye. He turned it over and read the letter.
A cold, empty feeling seeped through him. He lightened the tight grip he’d taken on the paper; it had started creasing it. He heard Hinata’s bed creak, like he was leaning forwards. He straightened his back, and calmly placed it on top of the pile of papers. He hugged the small pile close to his chest, turned quickly to Hinata and smiled brightly,
“I’m looking for your plans to murder me and steal my fortune, obviously! I bet Hinata would make it extremely horrific and ironic. He knows me well enough by now. Maybe Miss Sonia has given him pointers with those movies she shows you.” He mimicked holding a voice changer to his mouth, “Hello Komaeda, I want to play a game…” He giggled, “Or something, right?”
Hinata rolled his eyes, but the smile that grew across his face took away any dissatisfaction the action would usually hold. He leaned down, scratching at his ankle, “Those movies were so stupid. I don’t get why she likes them so much.” He sat up again, leaning back on his hands and tilting his head at Komaeda, “Plus, I wouldn’t have to kill you to steal your fortune. I could just ask. Or better yet just walk into your house and take whatever I want, since you refuse to lock your damn doors.”
“But where’s the romance in that?” Komaeda pressed, steadfastly ignoring the jab. He gently placed the sorted pile of papers back onto the desk, and moved onto on the messy scattering of pens. He corrected an overturned pencil case and dropped the pens back home one by one.
“Romance? In me killing you?”
“To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die.” Komaeda sang lightly. He did it without thinking, as was Hinata’s general effect on him. The silence afterwards struck a whisper of awkward anxiety through him. He tried to ignore it, keeping his smile light as he glanced at Hinata. Only to find him squinting at him,
“…What?”
The tension dropped from him. He huffed a laugh, turning away from the tidied pencil case and cocking his hip against the desk. He crossed his arms and regarded Hinata with a searching, smug expression,
“I thought Miss Sonia was helping you with your English.” Hinata pouted in response. He rested his foot on the opposite knee and began picking at a loose thread on his sock. Komaeda narrowed his eyes, “You better not be wasting an Ultimate’s time. You should put in more effort.”
“I-I am trying!” He insisted, a fire cracking to life in his eyes, before it just as quickly dimmed, then smothered completely, “It’s just- I’m not very good with learning languages.” He pulled once more at the thread on his sock, and muttered, “Not very good at much at all, really.”
Komaeda twisted his lip, then shrugged, humming a noncommittal sound, before turning and tidying the desk again.
“This is the part where you deny my self-hatred. You know, to make me feel better about myself?”
“What would be the point in that?” Komaeda laughed as he sifted through the papers on the desk. He found the letter from earlier again. He placed it delicately in the middle of the desk, away from the other papers. His fingers lingered on it for a moment, pressing it flat into the desk, “It’s the truth.”
Hinata was quiet. Perhaps waiting for Komaeda to tell him he’s joking or lying. He didn’t because he wasn’t.
“Jeez thanks a lot, asshole.”
Komaeda closed his eyes at the response, so indignant and insulted. But not angry enough. Hinata believed in his own words a little more than he’d expected, then. Komaeda had thought maybe he was just looking for empty praise. He also thought Hinata would know him well enough by now to know that Komaeda wasn’t in the business of dishing that out. He turned, and despite it all, he had to bite his lip to stifle his smile. Hinata was just too cute when he pouted.
“Hinata is good at other things.” His voice was quiet, but the twitch in Hinata’s eye told him he’d heard him. “You’re good at being a friend. You're good at listening. Your presence is calming-“
“O-Ok stop it, it’s embarrassing.” Hinata mumbled, hiding his face behind his hand, and turning to look out the window for good measure. But Komaeda could still hear the smile in his voice.
He stepped away from the desk, over to Hinata, and kneeled in front of him, “They’re all things I’m not good at.” He gently took his hands, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of Hinata’s fingers, “You fill in the blanks my failures create.”
Hinata was quiet, but he held Komaeda's hand back, squeezing his fingers. Then, he mumbled, “T-That goes both ways…”
The sweetness of his words, whispered so intimately to him, in a way that was so uniquely Hinata, that soft, shaky voice, so vulnerable, his heart on his sleeve bared to someone like Komaeda, who so definitely didn’t deserve it. It was usually enough to thrill him, send his heart into a dizzying beat. Even the shy, uncertain look on Hinata’s face alone was enticing enough to send Komaeda’s head into a spin.
But what Komaeda felt in that moment was nothing so sweet. Instead, his delicate words were sharp, a cut from baby’s breath, because Komaeda couldn’t believe them when unbeknownst to Hinata, he’d found evidence of the exact contrary.
Sitting on Hinata’s desk was an offer from a university. Not any university Hinata had previously mentioned. It was a university far, far away from here.
Away from him.
How could he accept such sentiments when it was so clearly false? Though, Komaeda believed he could’ve come to that conclusion on his own. Despite Hinata’s pleasantries, he knew full well that there was nothing he could provide to Hinata that would match anything that Hinata provided to him.
Maybe, for that reason alone, he couldn’t blame him for wanting to leave. Even now, it would only take him a second to think of a million other reasons on top of that for Hinata to want out. The fact he’d stayed this long…
Perhaps this was it. The end to the good luck that was their relationship.
But even that didn’t feel right. Such a cliche ending, high school sweethearts separated because of distance as one went off to study. Surely, he wasn’t meant for such a simple, easy ending? Nothing in his life had been that sweet. Even as the regret seeped through him and something more heated, more stricken, a sort of relief flushed through him. To know the ending before it happened, to be able to see it coming this time, instead of it crashing through the ceiling and splattering Hinata’s skull across the floor. A quiet ending. He’d never had one of those before.
This was a good thing. It was good. This was kind.
The image of Hinata letting him down gently came to mind. Or perhaps even less than that. Maybe it’d be as simple as text messages answered an hour after delivery, then a day, then a week, then being left on read, then finally, on delivered. A slow, steady decline. A gentle lowering into the soft, wet dirt. The dignity of a funeral.
In the end, it would be what was best for Hinata. In the end, he’d get to have him and not have to scrub blood from his fingernails.
This was good. This was right.
His heart shrivelled in his chest. A twisting, heavy ache.
He tightened his grip on Hinata’s hands, staring at where they touched. He bit the inside of his cheek, then forced a calm upon himself. He wrangled his posture into something relaxed. He kneaded his grip until it loosened. Smiling was easy. It always has been.
“What's happening in Hinata’s big head?” He forced himself to hold his eye contact. He hoped Hinata would just admit it. This had to be what had been taking up so much of his headspace. For the letter to just be there on his desk, it wasn’t like it was old news. He didn’t know for certain, but it just made the most sense. Especially with entrance exam season coming up, he must really be worried about getting in.
It wasn’t like it was his right to know. Hinata could do what he wanted. Even so, he felt scorned, somehow. It was stupid, but he did. He’d been so open with Hinata, and now Hinata wouldn’t even tell him something like this?
Though he supposed, when he thought about it, Hinata had always tended to be quite closed off. Sometimes, he’d open up a little, and start talking about things that Komaeda had no context for. The little context he did gather worried him. For some reason, it always seemed to circle back to that appointment he’d missed. Komaeda knew it was something important. Hinata had been so incensed about the potential of missing it, the type of panicked flurry you see people get into when they’re about to miss a once in a lifetime opportunity. But to this day, Hinata didn’t say anything specific, anything concrete, just a flip flop between relief and regret, depending on how he was feeling that day. It made Komaeda feel uncertain. He felt that Hinata knew everything about him, but there was so much about Hinata Komaeda didn’t know.
He tried to ignore the feeling. When he thought about it, it was probably safer this way. Perhaps it was this exact distance that he so cautiously kept that allowed them the option of such a gentle ending.
So, Komaeda didn’t push. He did as he usually did. He nudged fate in the direction he wanted, then took his hands off the reins.
Hinata scowled, and how fond it made him feel was a lemon juice bath for the paper cut wound of his heart.
“My head isn’t big.”
No such luck. How frustrating. How relieving.
“Your forehead is.” Komaeda joked easily, twisting his smile to something more teasing. He lifted his hand and fit all four of his fingers in the space between Hinata’s eyebrows and hairline, with a little room to spare, “It’s cute.”
“S-Shut up.” Hinata smacked his hand away, and Komaeda didn’t have to fake his laugh this time. Hinata’s stern expression didn’t last long. It trembled before falling apart completely into something softer. “I could say the same for you.”
Komaeda stared at him innocently, “You can’t see my forehead.”
Hinata scrunched his face, seeing right through his feigned ignorance. In retaliation, he pinched Komaeda’s cheeks together in his hand, making his lips puff out ridiculously. Komaeda whined childishly but didn’t make any sort of movement to get out of the hold. Hinata breathed a laugh at how silly he looked, then pushed Komaeda’s fringe back. Before Komaeda could catch up, he leaned forwards and placed a kiss right in the centre of his forehead.
A hush ran through him, echoing from the spot on his head where Hinata had kissed him. In the stillness, it was easier to feel that strange, cowering, contorting feeling in his chest. The one that writhed and flinched whenever Hinata did something like this. Komaeda didn’t know what the feeling was or where it came from. Just that it was uncomfortable. He felt like a child standing lost in the waiting area of an airport all over again.
“…Hinata wins.” Komaeda mumbled, rolling back into a squat, away from Hinata.
“Ridiculous.” Hinata mumbled with a smirk. He smoothed his hand down from his hair, stroking his face and cupping against his cheek. Komaeda couldn’t help but lean into it, even if maybe he shouldn’t. He didn’t think Hinata really realised the risk he took accepting such kindness. Leaning into his hand, warm and gentle against his face, it felt the same as holding a gun to his head, clicking the trigger, and hoping for an empty slot.
It was getting a bit easier. Or rather, Komaeda was getting complacent. He’d survived the pull of the trigger enough that he’d started to get cocky. With this new knowledge of how it will all end, he didn’t know what would be better. Should he stop pushing, or did it mean it was fine to give in even more? There was still so much time before Hinata went to university. Way too much time for everything to go wrong before the end.
He’d been quiet a bit too long it seemed. Hinata narrowed his eyes at him, and stroked a thumb across his chin as he tilted his head up, forcing him to look at him. He thought of snatching himself away. He stayed still, kept the barrel of the gun close to his temple.
“Come here.” Hinata murmured gently, leaning back, inviting Komaeda up onto the bed with him. There was too much worry in the crease of his eyebrows. He couldn’t have that.
“Ah, I thought Hinata wanted me to help him with his homework!” Komaeda gasped, “We haven't even been here an hour and you're enticing me into bed with you. How salacious. Completely unexpected for a boring Reserve Course student! You brought me here under false pretences and locked the door!”
Hinata’s face quickly picked up colour, “N-No!”
Komaeda crossed his legs and hummed thoughtfully, “Hinata is a pervert…who knew?”
Hinata spluttered, “Oh, but you thinking me killing you is the peak of romance and singing a song about dying at me? That’s totally normal!”
“Ah, Hinata is the type of pervert with no romantic soul…That’s even worse.”
Hinata’s pout deepened then he sucked his teeth, “Well you wouldn’t want to cuddle with such a lousy pervert then, would you? So we won’t do that-“ Hinata pulled himself up onto his bed, shuffling into the centre and away from Komaeda.
Komaeda pounced, scrambling up from the floor and jumping onto the bed, tackling Hinata down into the hard, uncomfortable mattress before he had a chance to lie down himself. Hinata yelled, but still instinctively grabbed Komaeda, rolling them until they were settled.
“If you wanted to cuddle with me Hinata, you should’ve just said so.” Komaeda teased and he and Hinata shuffled and squirmed to get comfortable.
“I did.”
“No Hinata said ‘come here’ with sexy bedroom eyes.”
His blush creeped further across his face, he averted eye contact, “No I didn’t y-you’re letting your imagination get ahead of you.”
Komaeda settled on top of him, resting his head on his hand atop Hinata’s chest, his body draped across his, snug between Hinata’s legs, “Ah, I don’t think so.” He titled his head drawing aimless patterns with his finger on Hinata’s collarbones, he whispered, “If it was my imagination, Hinata would have been a lot dirtier.”
Finally, his blush reached its peak, a full blooming red, “S-Shut up. Stop. This conversation ends now. Right now.”
Komaeda bit his lip and poked Hinata’s warm, red cheek, “Hinata, you're so cute.”
Hinata grabbed his wrist to stop his poking, “Stop making fun of me.”
Komaeda sat up a little bit, “Ah, wait, are you actually mad?” Hinata didn’t respond, his pout just deepened. Komaeda slid off Hinata, kneeling next to him instead, “I’m sorry.”
Hinata sighed, then rolled his eyes, “I know.” He relented, sitting up on his elbows, and giving Komaeda a funny, fond look, “I'm not actually mad.”
Komaeda’s smile managed to grow fonder, “Hinata is sensitive. I like that about you.”
“I think you just like that it's so easy to make me embarrassed.”
“Yep!” Komaeda’s gaze fell back on the desk, the letter sitting away from the rest of the papers. Innocent and plain, folded like it was. Even so, it was as innocuous as a blood splatter in a white room, with the same amount of weight on Komaeda’s heart. He took his gaze away, and let out a sigh, “I also like Hinata when does well in school…”
Hinata matched his sigh, rubbing his hands over his face, then dropping them heavily, before he finally agreed, “Yeah, me too. Maybe we should do some work.”
“Then we can cuddle afterwards.”
“Y-Yeah…”
Was that shyness or uncertainty? With the way his thoughts were spinning, Komaeda couldn’t decipher the difference anymore. He could only see distaste.
Komaeda held out his hand, a bit impulsively. It wasn’t a typical situation for one of their handshakes. The plan of ‘work-then-cuddle’ was so flimsy that it didn’t need such an official seal. But it wasn’t really about all that. He couldn’t put a word to it. He just needed something to help hold him together right now. Something tangible. Something that was theirs.
Hinata, not burdened at all by such complicated, overwhelming feelings, didn’t think twice about reciprocating. Hinata slid his hand over his, then held out his own for Komaeda to do the same. A fist bump, then they hooked their pinkie fingers and touched their thumbs together and finished it with a shake. Then, in a spur of the moment decision, Komaeda tugged Hinata forwards and sealed it with a kiss. A solid but sweet peck in the centre of Hinata’s lips. Its life was short, but its impact was heavy. As Komaeda pulled back and watched Hinata react, a blink of surprise, his gaze off centre, his lips slightly parted, he felt his head spin. He bit his lip against the tingling sensation left in the aftermath, his smile stretching as he retreated shyly back, tucking his head between his shoulders.
Hinata blinked back into the present, and with it came a blush that filled his face. He covered his face, leaning away from Komaeda,
“T-That was so fucking cheesy, oh my God.” He laughed. Komaeda lifted an eyebrow, then stifled his smirk until it disappeared completely. He sunk into himself, fiddling with his fingers, he murmured,
“Oh…I didn’t think so.” He hunched his shoulders forwards, “I liked it. I always like kissing Hinata…” He glanced up at Hinata, a quick thing so he wouldn’t be caught. Hinata was staring at him with a tensely confused expression. Komaeda sighed, and pushed harder, “I guess I understand though if you don’t like kissing me-”
“Nagito-”
“-You’ve been too kind as is-”
“Are you kidding me right now-”
“-So, I won’t ask for any more than what you give me already-”
“Fine! Fine we can-” Hinata covered his mouth and stared at the blanket beneath him as he forced himself to finish, eyes clenched shut, “We can k-kiss at the end of it.” With it over, he relaxed, and his typical, embarrassed pout returned, “Only in private though. Not in front of everyone.”
Komaeda immediately dropped the act, perking up and chirping a happy, “Okay!”
Hinata on the other hand, went limp, “Y-You-” He laughed in disbelief, “You’re so manipulative! I can’t believe you!”
“Ah, so typical of a Reserve Course student to defer the blame of your own shortcomings onto someone else.”
“Oh my God.”
“Maybe if Hinata wasn’t so weak to such soft punches then-”
“I’ll show you ‘weak’, you bastard!”
Komaeda didn’t have time to prepare before Hinata was tackling him backwards into the bed. He yelled, fighting back, pushing Hinata’s hands away as he tried to tickle and pinch his sides and cheeks in punishment. Their laughter got loud, too loud, Hinata had to force a hissing ‘shush!’ through his laughter lest his neighbours put in another passive aggressive complaint about the two of them. They rolled as they fought, the cheap mattress squeaking in protest under their tussling, until Hinata flipped Komaeda, slamming his back into the mattress, knees either side of his hips and pinning his hands firmly into the comforter next to his head with a strong grip around his wrists.
Suddenly, Komaeda couldn’t find the breath to laugh.
Hinata cast him in shadow, the sun, already muted through the mesh of the flyscreen, washed over Hinata as he leaned over him. Though Komaeda didn’t notice much. The intensity of Hinata’s stare was enough to heat him from the inside out. Komaeda felt small beneath him, a-rush with a thrill that wasn’t dangerous. Well, not in the usual way. It shivered through him as Hinata stared down at him with a rare, confident smirk on his face that made Komaeda suddenly understand how the antelope felt in those animal documentaries he watched. Hinata leaned forwards, and Komaeda’s breath stopped, trapped in his throat. That too was quickly resolved. As Hinata leaned closer, his slightly laboured breathing swept over him, teasing against his parted lips. He hovered there, just out of reach. Komaeda’s heart panged as he bit his lip, clenched his pinned hands into fists as he resisted the screaming urge inside him to lean up, close the gap, kiss him, kiss him- Hajime, please kiss me.
Finally, he did.
The kiss was heavy. Heavier than they were used to. Languid and intense as Komaeda sunk deep into the mattress and even deeper into the indulgence of Hinata’s smooth lips moulding against his. Hinata was quick to lick against Komaeda, but Komaeda was quicker to bend to him, his eyebrows pinching, and a small whine escaping him as he parted his lips and let Hinata take over him completely.
He wanted to touch him, to feel the muscles in his jaw, in his shoulder, smooth his hands down his strong back and through his hair. As his tongue kissed against Hinata’s he tested the restraint. The moment he did, instead of backing down, Hinata’s grip tightened.
Oh.
A new, hotter heat flushed through him, right down to his toes. Hinata squeezed against his wrists, but at the same time, was gently stroking his thumb idly against the palm of Komaeda’s upturned hands.
He liked that; he liked it a lot.
He didn’t think he’d ever been this flustered before, not even when Hinata had first kissed him. He managed a breath between Hinata’s kisses, it was shaken, heavy, then promptly swallowed again by Hinata. He ached to touch him, ached for Hinata’s hands on him too, a maddening obsession that overwhelmed him. But Hinata’s hands didn’t move, and Komaeda couldn’t say that he hated being trapped here either.
Well, until he could.
It dawned on him, some pointed thought like an alarm suddenly flashing red light through the haze Hinata’s sweet, heady kiss had covered him in, that even as he tested Hinata’s hold, it wasn’t him who needed to be held back from running.
He pulled again against Hinata’s restraint, more insistent this time. Hinata let him go, pulling back from the kiss with a wet sound that any other time Komaeda may have let get to his head. He started to speak, an apology, a question, Komaeda didn’t care. He grabbed his face and pulled him back under, back into that deep, smothering kiss. Hinata gave in easily, his hands smoothing down Komaeda’s body, slow and purposeful, feeling every bump of his ribcage over the thin fabric of his button up, then sweater, until his hands stopped, hugging firmly around his waist. Komaeda tried to repress the sound he made in response, but it didn't work. It did distract Hinata enough, however, for him to put his plan into action.
He pulled a leg free from between Hinata’s knees, and pushed it against Hinata’s hip, tipping him over so he could roll on top, straddle his thigh, and quickly keep kissing Hinata before he had the chance to think too hard about it. He let his hands roam free across Hinata’s body, hands smoothing over his chest, his side, rumpling the pressed white shirt he wore to class. Hinata sighed at the feeling, his hands squeezing at Komaeda’s waist as he kissed him, his thumbs smoothing against the knit cotton of his Hope’s Peak striped sweater. It was cover enough that Hinata didn’t notice when Komaeda’s hands stopped in the centre of his chest, pushing him deeper into the bed.
As Hinata kissed him, he took back every thought he’d had about letting Hinata go so easily. He couldn’t do it. No matter how much he knew he had to, he couldn’t be so selfless. He never had been. If he was, he never would’ve let Hinata so close in the first place. He couldn’t help it. It was a stubborn, insolent thought, but Komaeda, just for once, wanted something he could keep.
He didn’t want to let Hinata go, and he didn’t care if it was for his or Hinata’s own good. His only solace was he’d warned him. Right from the start. It wasn’t his fault anymore. Hinata took on that blame.
He just couldn’t take the idea of someone else having him like this, holding him, knowing Hinata in this way and all the ways Komaeda hadn’t had the chance to uncover yet. If Hinata wanted an easy way out, he shouldn’t have stoked the wet, dying fire of hope that had almost completely smothered out in Komaeda's chest.
Komada would never leave him. Under any circumstance.
It wasn’t Komaeda that needed to be pinned in place in this relationship. He had nowhere else to go.
Something overcame him. A creeping feeling that spread out from his chest, tingled in his fingers, made his breath thin in his chest, his heart pound shallow, and it had nothing to do with how good it felt when Hinata sucked on his lip, his teeth hinting at its soft flesh.
He let the feeling guide him, and slid his knee up, between Hinata’s thighs until-
Hinata gasped, their lips parted, Hinata’s hands grabbing instead at Komaeda’s thighs. Eyes wide, he stuttered a breathy,
“N-Nagito-”
Komaeda shut him up, shoving his tongue down his throat, grabbing his jaw in the hand that wasn’t pressing down on his chest and pushed his head back, deeper into the bed, deeper into his kiss. He pushed his thigh deeper into his crotch.
As he’d hoped, Hinata was hard against him.
This had happened before, and not even just to Hinata. It was to be expected, even if it was really, really embarrassing every time. Moreso for Hinata, anyway. Komaeda at least already knew he was disgustingly perverted, but it still made him ashamed that he had to constantly remind Hinata of that fact.
Komaeda had always become hesitant in those moments. Even if he tried not to show it, Hinata always picked up on it, and was always quick to save the moment, divert them to something else and never once did he seem bothered by it, or make Komaeda feel bad.
But he’d always wondered, deep down, when Hinata was going to get sick of waiting for him to be ready. Komaeda wasn’t even sure what it would take, to make him finally feel secure enough to let Hinata see him that way. That was all that was stopping them, in the end. Komaeda would take Hinata in a heartbeat. Hinata could never be disgusting to him, especially not in that way.
Today, Komaeda found out what that final push was.
Maybe, he heard through the panicked rushing of conflicting thoughts in his head, if he did this, if he crossed this line with Hinata, he’d stay. Maybe this was why he was trying to leave him in the first place, and this is why he didn’t say anything. He must’ve been hoping, all this time, that if he went to a university away from Komaeda, he’d find someone else. A nice girl with a sexy body, the type Hinata liked, that’d give him things Komaeda never could, or some other boy, someone stronger, with fuller thighs and softer hair and less baggage who’d have the confidence to treat Hinata in a way he never had. Someone who wouldn’t have to second guess something as trivial as having sex with their partner. Someone who wouldn’t put him in danger by just thinking about wanting such a thing. They’d show him what he was missing, and Hinata would be left wondering why he’d ever wasted so much time on Komaeda in the first place.
Maybe if he just did it, despite how scared he felt, how sick it made him as he felt Hinata’s hips twitch against the pressure of his thigh, and how much more scared the idea of everything to come made him feel, Hinata would see he wouldn’t have to leave.
Or maybe it’d be the opposite. Maybe he’d be so bad it’d force Hinata further towards the other option, out of his life, away from him.
At least he’d have had him this way. Even if Hinata left, that’d be something he could never take away from him.
And isn't this the perfect situation? Komaeda was so scared he felt lightheaded, his gut was heavy with apprehension, his mind rushing and heart pounding against him, pleading him to stop. If it was any other way, if Komaeda wanted this, his luck would get him back for it. If he and Hinata shared it together, both happy, both content, both giving as much as the other took, the way he’d quietly dreamed it would go, then the punishment would be nightmarish to make up for it. Such good luck, Komaeda didn’t even want to think of the bad he’d have to bear through to experience something so sweet. But, if he does it now, when it's scary, when he’d really, really rather not, then maybe it’ll be fine. Maybe they could do this, and it wouldn’t end in flames. He could make Hinata happy in this way and maybe, if he really made it horrible for himself, Hinata would stay.
He’d moved on, kissing down Hinata’s neck, his hand under his shirt, feeling as Hinata’s stomach twitched and tensed as pleasure worked through him. Good. Maybe he’d be so distracted he wouldn’t notice how hard Komaeda was shaking.
“N-Nagito-”
Komaeda licked up his throat, and squeezed a hand into his chest, and Hinata’s breathing cut short in his throat.
“Wait-”
With his shirt so far up, his soft, tanned stomach was on show, the band of his white, sakura print boxers peeking above the stiff black suit trousers he wore with his uniform. Komaeda kissed his stomach, just above his belly button, and Hinata grabbed his arm,
“Nagito, what are you-Ah!”
Hinata’s questioning cut off as Komaeda palmed him through his trousers. Bile rose in his throat. He giggled at the feeling.
Until Hinata pushed him away, a foot in his chest knocking him backwards, his head narrowly missing the headboard as Hinata yelled,
“STOP!”
He did. He didn’t really have another choice.
Komaeda lay where he’d been pushed and stared at the white painted ceiling of Hinata’s dorm room.
“Nagito, what the fuck!?” Hinata yelled breathlessly through his heavy panting, “What are you doing?! Wh-Why are you- Were you even listening to me?!”
He must’ve come off as unsure about the whole thing. His acting did get a bit iffy when he got that emotional. It was the one thing he hadn’t learned to control yet. It was endlessly frustrating and got him into more trouble than it got him out of.
But it didn’t mean he couldn’t save this.
“Hinata, please don’t worry about me-”
“Worry about you- I’m worried about me!” He was still yelling. Komaeda lifted his head and stared at him unblinking. “W-Well I’m worried about you too, but, like-” He panted for a second, “What the fuck?!”
Komaeda sat up a little more, leaning on his elbows. Suddenly, there was no dam to hold back like before. His mind was eerily quiet. Focused.
“I don’t understand why you’re confused.”
“I don’t understand why you’re -” He paused, fighting with his own words for a moment, before spitting, “Why you were doing that!?”
Komaeda’s breathing was mechanically even.
“We’re gonna have sex, obviously.” Komaeda replied calmly.
Hinata stared at him. Eyes wide enough that it was a little off-putting. His face was going redder and redder, and Komaeda suddenly worried that he wasn’t breathing.
“Hinata are you okay?”
“NO!”
Oh, he could breathe. That was good.
“...Am I really that bad?” Komaeda asked. With a small laugh, he burrowed back into himself, his shoulders coming up to his ears, his chin in his chest, “Ah, I haven’t even done anything yet and I’ve upset Hinata this much-”
“THAT IS NOT THE ISSUE HERE!” Hinata raked a hand through his hair and pulled his knees to his chest. He breathed like that for a second, eyes skitting back and forth, anxiously thinking, before he exploded, “W-WHAT- WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”
Something must’ve shown in his expression. The way his heart clenched at the words, or perhaps how he startled at the way he shouted at him. He wasn’t sure what it was. With that one short phrase, the rushing, blistering storm of emotion that he’d contained tore through him without mercy.
Hinata scrambled forwards, a hand out, trying to reach him, “N-No, no shit sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Nagito, look at me I-”
“I really messed it all up!” He gasped, dragging his nails through his hair, digging into his scalp. He curled in on himself, his knees to his chest as his hands ripped through his hair, “Ahaha, I knew it. I knew it. I knew it. I knew it! I-It was too good to be true. Of course I’d mess up such a hopeful ending-”
“Ending?!”
“If my cancer hadn’t already been cured, I would’ve guessed that that would be the brilliantly amazing luck that would come from this disastrous event. But I suppose that doesn’t really make sense. What would be more despairing than worthless scum like me continuing to waste space that someone much more hopeful could fill- “
“Nagito!” Hinata grabbed Komaeda’s shoulders, “Look at me.”
“How terrible-”
“Shut up, stop talking, look at me.”
“How hopeless-”
“Look at me.”
He grabbed his face, one soft, warm hand on each cheek. Komaeda’s eyes focused. He held his stare, eyes jumping between each of his. Through the whirlwind of thoughts crashing over him, deafening him, one stood out, calm and sure in the madness.
What a pretty colour.
“Breathe.” He insisted. Then, as an example, breathed in deeply, held it, and breathed out. He continued doing that, caressing his face with a touch so soft it made him shiver, made him feel weaker and weaker with each passing second, something inside him cracking and splitting apart, like a new, green sprout through old, hot concrete.
Komaeda copied the breathing, as best as he could. It went in shaky, and holding it made him panic, but he tried, until it was easier. Then, the storm dispersed, the skies still grey, but Komaeda wasn’t drowning anymore, his head above water once again.
“Better?”
He couldn’t bring himself to answer. He stared at a bump in the paint on Hinata’s wall.
“Now, I’m going to ask you again, and I need you to explain it to me slowly, like the dumbass I am, okay?” Hinata squeezed his hands, “What the fuck was that about?”
Something twisted within him, a knife in his back.
He snapped his head back, “Why should I tell you?”
Hinata blinked, taken aback, he stuttered uselessly over a few unintelligible sounds. Komaeda snatched his hands away from him.
“We seem to be in the business of keeping secrets from each other anyway, so maybe I won't tell you.” Hinata just stared dumbly at him, still not catching up. Komaeda gasped, clasping his hands together, “Ah, or is it only Hinata who's allowed to have secrets? Am I the only one between us who must cut myself open for you to examine every time? You know what, I think Hinata should be the patient for once.”
Hinata just continued to stare at him dumbly, not moving except for to blink, his mouth agape. Then, he shook his head, “F-Fine. Fine!” He snapped, a hand on his head, before it dropped heavily, “Ask then! What do you want to know?”
Komaeda held back a sneer.
Hinata liked to tell everyone he was stupid and liked to believe it about himself too. But the most annoying thing about it was that he really wasn’t. It was particularly annoying because sometimes, Komaeda couldn’t help but feel like he used it as an excuse. Like now, as he sat there and played dumb, like he didn’t know he was keeping such a massive secret from him, like they hadn’t been discussing this whole Hinata-going-to-university thing for months. Like it hadn’t been a point of tension in their relationship. Like Hinata hadn’t made that promise with him, to never give up on him, like he could walk away so easily.
Well, if Hinata was going to play that game, Komaeda would just beat him at it.
“Why does Hinata keep a stock of dirty magazines in with all of his notebooks? Are you taking a class on the variation in girl’s boob sizes? Or is it anatomy? Do you get extra marks for knowing the inside of women that intimately? You pervert.”
“What-” Hinata went bright red as realisation sunk over him. A sour look twisted his face, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. Komaeda watched him closely, not blinking, not wanting to miss a beat as Hinata fell for it.
“T-That was a stupid joke present from Souda-”
“Souda!” Komaeda barked in disbelief as he burned with fiery vindication from the lighter fluid he’d forced Hinata to pour over him.
“-From ages ago that I didn’t even realise I still had!” He emphasised, dragging out his point like it would make it any stronger. “I swore I threw it out. How did you even find it?”
Komaeda shrugged, and with a sweet smile provided his own confession, “I didn’t.”
“Komaeda!” Hinata took a breath, and held it tight in his chest, “You have one more chance to be serious before I kick you out. I mean it.”
Komaeda got to his feet, “I’ll save Hinata the trouble.”
He snatched his jacket off the chair, picked up his bag, and with every step towards the door, his heart begged Hinata to make him stay.
“Komaeda!” Komaeda didn’t turn around. He kept walking “No, no. Stop it. Now. This isn’t right. What’s going on? Why can’t you talk to me?!” Hinata grabbed his arm and pulled him around. Komaeda snatched his arm away. He’d intended to leave, but he stopped in his tracks as hurt cut across Hinata’s face, “Y-You don’t get to just-just do that then blow up on me like I’m the asshole here!”
Komaeda breathed deeply, glaring at the table behind Hinata. It made staying angry easier.
“If Hinata can’t figure it out himself, then why would telling him help anyway? Really, do you seriously expect to get into any university if you can’t figure out something this simple without having it spelled out for you?”
He didn’t know what he was saying until it was too late. He regretted it as soon as it processed. He bit his tongue hard between his molars. If he could, he’d bite it off, never say another thing again. But still, he didn’t take it back.
Just once he wanted an ending where he didn’t have to wash the stains of the aftermath from his shirt. But if he couldn’t even have that, this time around he’d at least make damn sure he was the one holding the gun.
Hinata was quiet. Komaeda kept his finger on the trigger.
“...D-Do you really want to do it? This badly?”
He faltered.
“I’m- I’m sorry.” Hinata couldn’t even look at him, his hands in fists at his sides. “I’m sorry okay, I’m just…I’m not ready. I-I know that’s really lame. I’m such a fucking loser, but I just…” His face was stained red with shame. He fought for an excuse, but then sighed roughly, and admitted, defeated, “I just can’t yet. I-I want to, one day. W-With you.”
A silence stretched between them. Hinata’s stare implored Komaeda. He didn’t respond. Frozen in space as he watched Hinata try to stop his expression from breaking.
“Nagito, please believe me. It would mean-” He stopped, took a step back, and looked away, rubbing a hand over his face. Maybe it could’ve passed as frustration on anyone else. But when Hinata grunted out a cough, and dragged in a shaking breath, Komaeda knew what it was.
He hated himself so much. It had to be impossible to be this vile.
“I’m sorry.” Hinata continued, a stiffness in his voice that did nothing to stop it from shaking. “Please, can you wait for me? Just a little longer?” He waited, but Komaeda couldn’t speak, too frozen by the weight of the hurt he’d caused Hinata.
But hadn’t he been trying to hurt him? Why did he do that? He didn’t want to hurt him.
His heart raced. His palms slick with sweat, more so than usual. He felt hyper aware, but now it didn’t make him feel flighty. Now it froze him in place. Not a single, clear thought in his head except,
“Do you mean it?”
Hinata had been waiting for a response, but somehow still seemed shocked to get one. “Of course I mean it.” His shock did not stifle his conviction. “I’m sorry I’m so pathetic, I’m just-”
“Then why are you trying to leave me?”
He wished he could take it back, say it again with more power in his voice. Without the terrified, cowering animal of his heart on full display. Say it again, and not sound so much like a child.
Hinata’s face creased with confusion, “What?”
“Don’t be dense, Hinata.”
“I-I can’t help it, we’ve been over this, I kind of am.”
Komaeda twisted his lips into a scowl, stormed forwards, and snatched the paper that started all of this off the desk and held it out for Hinata to take.
Hinata took the folded letter cautiously, glancing between it and Komaeda. But, instead of guilt, confusion only etched deeper into his face.
“This?”
Komaeda nodded.
Hinata shook the paper, “This is what this is about?”
Komaeda folded his arms. He chewed the inside of his lip as he scowled.
Hinata looked at the paper like he didn’t recognise it. He sighed, then unfolded it. He glanced over it, and instantly understanding relaxed his face.
Caught red handed. Komaeda tried to feel smug about it. It didn’t work.
“You promised me.” It was something he’d thought about already. A central point to his anger, his bitterness. But now it was spoken out loud, the words cut into him. He dug his fingers tightly into his arm, digging his nails in, and forced himself to continue, “You promised me you’d never give up on me. I should’ve known it meant nothing to you. My feelings are so deep, there's no way anyone else could feel the same way about someone as worthless as me-”
“Shut up!” The paper slashed through the air as Hinata’s arms snapped to his sides in righteous anger, “You don’t get to say things like that about me! I meant that promise. I still do and I always will!”
“Then why-”
“I applied everywhere I could, Komaeda.” Hinata dragged out the confession with an exhausted resignation. “I don’t have the greatest chances here, okay? If it wasn’t for the Hope’s Peak title on my application, I don’t know what I’d be doing right now. But this…It means a lot to me. I want to do this. I want to better myself. The right way.” Hinata looked at the paper, “This university…I don’t even know why I applied. It was a last case scenario. Even then, as soon as I applied, I decided I wouldn’t go. It was too far. Not just from you, from everyone and my family and…” He smiled or tried to. It was more a sad clenching of his teeth, “And I’m a coward.” He sighed heavily, and it seemed to take all the strength out of him, “I didn’t take back my application because I wanted to see if they would accept someone like me. I just needed that validation, I suppose. It’s sad.” He huffed a sad laugh. Through his waning anger, Komaeda wished he could take that from him. Wished Hinata would see him the way he did. He knew he couldn’t. It didn’t stop him wishing. “But I still don’t understand. Why did you start…Y-You know…Why did you do that because of this?”
He wanted to respond but came up dry. He fought through his mind, but even with how convincing it was in the moment, he couldn’t find any solid reasoning.
“I…I don’t know.” He stared through Hinata, still searching, grasping at phantom excuses in his mind. The wisps of explanation, once solid enough to scare him stiff, now seemed stupid and illogical, “I thought it might stop you from leaving…Maybe it was why you were leaving. I-I didn’t want to. I really didn’t want to.” He stared at his hands. They trembled, “I-I don’t know what's wrong with me.”
He hid his face in his hands, shame curling deep in him. He wasn’t alone for long. Hinata was there, pulling him close and holding him tight. Komaeda curled his back, tucking himself closer into Hinata. With his head now hidden in his shoulder, he dropped his hands and fisted them in Hinata’s shirt instead.
“I’m…I’m so relieved.” Hinata whispered, his words tickling against Komaeda’s ear. He tucked himself further into his shoulder. “We’ve talked about this.” He started gently, “I’m not leaving you Nagito. That’s not what this is about. Not at all.”
Komaeda curled in further, and finally wrapped his arms around Hinata as well, his hands gripping for dear life into the back of his shirt, no doubt creasing it. Something about the thought shot bitter warmth through him.
“I especially wouldn’t leave over something like that. Do you seriously think I’m the type of person who’d do that?”
Komaeda thought for a moment, then sighed, “No…No, you wouldn’t. As with most cases, Hinata is much too noble.”
Hinata snorted, “Noble?”
“But I am…I am not most cases.”
“You’re my…case.” Hinata cringed and tried to cover it with a smile. He kissed Komaeda gently on the cheek, and tried again, “My headcase.”
Komaeda pursed his lips, “...That was really bad.”
Hinata rolled his eyes, “Whatever.”
Komaeda watched him smirk, saw it contrasted with the shy look in his eye, and a gratitude washed over him.
How was he still here? How was Hinata still holding him close, warming him, smiling at him, blessing him with his kiss, even after all that?
He really was much too lucky for his own good.
“I’m really sorry, Hajime.”
Hinata blinked, then the shock was gone, and he smiled gently, “It’s okay.”
Komaeda moved back a bit, “No, I’m really, really sorry. I can’t believe I-”
“Nagito.” Komaeda stopped when Hinata tipped his chin down. Levelling their eyes, he said, “I forgive you. It’s okay.”
Komaeda closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Hinata’s. He wished he could believe him. It’d be nice.
“Make it up to me?”
Komaeda perked up, his hands gripping at Hinata’s biceps excitedly, “Anything.”
Hinata’s expression fell flat, “Teach me about genetic mutations.”
“...Ah…” Out of the long list of elaborate, fantastical, and horrific things Komaeda thought in the short time since Hinata made the suggestion, that was not one of the options he’d come up with. “Haven’t I gone over that with you already?”
“Yes.” It obviously wounded his pride to admit it. Hinata tipped his head back, and groaned a long, pleading, “Please.”
But he wasn’t so prideful as to not stoop to begging. Good to know.
“Ahaha, well, I said anything!” Something washed over him, a light, familiar feeling, and suddenly all the dark, horrible, crushing emotions he’d experienced felt far away. He grabbed Hinata’s hands between his own, holding them up between their chests, crushing the offer letter between them unintentionally, and ranted “We will suffer through the despair of biology together, Hinata. For the sake of brightening the already shining hope that is your future!”
Hinata huffed a laugh and shook his head. He made his way back to his desk, throwing the letter haphazardly onto it, “Sure. What you said.”
“I have lived experience with genetic mutations, so I suppose there's no one better to teach you!”
“Can we not talk about your cancer right now?”
“You never want to talk about my cancer.”
“Nagito.”
“Hajime.”
He helped Hinata in his own way. Hinata always complained about his teaching methods, but kept asking him again and again, even though there were others much more suited to teaching him he could ask. This time, instead of thinking about these things, he tried to indulge in it, remembering it as best as he could. One day, it’d be the last time Hinata would throw a rubber at him for being too cheeky with his teasing, the last time he’d see Hinata’s eyes brighten as he understood something, the last time he’d be able to kiss the frustrated crease between Hinata’s eyebrows away when he got something wrong. He hoped this time wasn’t it but knew that he was stupid for hoping for anything.
Before he’d stopped to realise it, Hinata had made him a fool. Fool enough to forget that even though, for once in his life, everything had been going so well, it didn’t mean it was permanent. Whether it was Hinata leaving, his luck, or the future, so close to him now he could feel it’s wet breath moistening the back of his neck, this too will have an end, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He had no room to be so complacent.
The future loomed over him, a heavy presence on his back. Komaeda leaned forwards and hooked his fingers with Hinata’s where they lay on the desk, and Hinata adjusted his hand until they held hands more firmly, without so much a hitch in the movement of his pen. Komaeda watched him work and memorised the moment so he could sit in it when that heavy, looming weight that had been growing on his back his whole life finally crushed him to dust.