{warning: this one sad motherfucker}

Once upon a time, Bakugou Katsuki knew freedom. He knew what it felt like to have the warm caress of the summer breeze as it ghosted past his cheeks, leaving just a hint of childish playfulness. He knew how refreshing and revitalizing the drops of well-deserved rain felt spattering against his face. He knew the good feelings of healthy exercise and the effects it had on his muscles.

Once.

Now his days bled from one day to the next. The world went on without him. He spent his time in swallowing silence, in devastating darkness, in miserable melancholy. There was no breeze for him to enjoy, no rain for him to embrace, no sun. For you see, Bakugou had been kidnapped by people who thought he would rack up a handsome ransom. They tied him up in a cell hidden "deep underground", according to them. But then they went and got themselves killed. It had been roughly four months since his kidnapping, three since their demise. Now it was just him and that mute brat that still brought him food and water.

Sometimes, when the aches in his bones and his heart were just too much for him to handle (like today), he would lie down on the ground and let his mind roam. Most of them were memories from his life at U.A.. All of them included Kirishima Eijirou. His newly-established boyfriend. They only dated for three weeks before he was kidnapped. That was his biggest regret. His thoughts turned to one of their more "domestic" interactions.

"Bakugou, get up!" grinned the red-haired loser, his hands quickly accompanying the order. Bakugou only grumbled a slew of curses under his breath and shoved his face further into the pillow. That was their daily routine, basically. Kirishima tried to wake Bakugou up, Bakugou cussed him out. Good times. "Come on, man, Midoriya invited us to the pool." More shaking. The mere mention of Midoriya magnified his mulishness. He turned his back to his red-headed boyfriend.

Kirishima sighed, "I didn't wanna have to do this, babe..." Babe? That was a first, not that Bakugou was complaining. It sounded nice in Kirishima's morning baritone. "...but you've left me no choice." Warm lips suddenly pressed against his shoulder blade, a tremor of shock racking through the ash blond. It was followed by a buzz of a chuckle. Kirishima continued, trailing his kisses down Bakugou's spine until he abruptly flipped him over. Red met red as the two stared at each other, Bakugou with an irritated yet flustered frown and Kirishima with a smug smirk.

Bakugou curled his hand around the redhead's collar and tried to yank his face down so he could claim what was promised to him- a kiss- but Kirishima just turned his face and started to kiss his jaw. He moved down to his throat, scratching his teeth against Bakugou's skin at the areas with yet-to-heal hickeys still shone. The ash blond gave a content sigh that quickly turned into a surprised yelp when Kirishima bit down on his collarbone. He dragged the redhead back up.

"You're the worst," deadpanned the ash blond, about to go on when Kirishima's laughter cut him off. "Hey- don't laugh at me when I'm pissed off at you!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." The redhead flopped down atop Bakugou's bare chest, fingers absentmindedly curling in and out of his ashen tresses. "You're just so cute when you're angry..."

"I'm always angry, dumbass."

"I know."

This time, when Bakugou fisted Kirishima's shirt and yanked him down, the redhead let him. Their lips finally met in a warm, morning-breath-ranked kiss.

Bakugou felt tears prick the corners of his eyes, such an unfamiliar change to the constant throbs of pain that pulsed from his hobbled hands and the metal that dug into his face courtesy of his muzzled mouth and the cramps that shot up from his legs due to their fixed position. God, he missed Kirishima. He missed his blinding smile, his bright, ruby-red eyes, his ridiculous shark teeth, that little scar on his right eye.... Everything. The ash blond recalled the first time they kissed.

It was movie night, a tradition Iida forced on the class in hopes it would "shed light" on their interests and get them closer as a unit. If they were to one day be Pro Heroes they needed to be able to trust those they would work with. Other bullshit like that. Bakugou was fine with bossing around any extra. Every other Friday was movie night.

It was Hagakure's turn to pick. Most of the guys let out an audible groan once she picked a movie they had all been expecting: a rom-com. The only exceptions were Aoyama, who absolutely loved rom-coms, Shouji, who didn't like hurting other people's feelings, and Kouda, who never spoke.

Class 1-A had a "system" for movie night. Those who didn't want to watch the movie could relax on the couches further off so they could be on their phones without disturbing those that did. Then there were couches in the middle for those that were moderately interested, and the two couches at the front for those that watched that movie like their life depended on it. Bakugou was always on one of the back couches unless it was his or, sometimes, Kirishima's turn to pick.

Sometime during the movie, even Hagakure got bored of the countless clichés. She fell back against the couch with a huff, claiming: "These aren't as fun as they used to be."

Ashido leapt to her feet, golden eyes gleaming. "Let's play a game! There's no use in watching this movie anymore and we gotta make the most of the time, right?" She looked towards Iida for approval, who mulled it over for a moment before nodding.

"As long as it is a game we can all enjoy and participate in," he assented. Bakugou stood up. "Bakugou? Where are you going?"

"Back to my dorm, Four Eyes, where's it look like I'm going?" hissed the ash blond, his fists involuntarily tightening. Kirishima, who was sitting next to him, rested his palm on his wrist. Faltering, Bakugou whipped his head down to look at him, only to see one of the softest smiles Kirishima had given.

"Play with us, Bakubro, it'll be fun!" Kirishima beamed with a lopsided grin. The fingers around Bakugou's wrists curled around it and tugged him back down to the couch without even giving him a chance to refuse, which he planned on doing with or without that adorable smile. Even so, the ash blond leaned back into the couch. Just one round.

Kaminari coughed. It sounded suspiciously like "whipped." Kirishima, already sensing the irritation wafting from the ash blond, threw his arm around his shoulders and tucked him into his side. Bakugou grit his teeth. He relaxed.

"What game did you have in mind, Mina-san?" Yaoyorozu asked from the middle couches, Jirou beside her. To absolutely no one's surprise, the latter had her jacks plugged into her phone.

"Truth or dare," the pink girl answered deviously. Bakugou didn't like that glint in her eye. It reminded him of the same predatory sheen Mineta constantly donned. Creepy.

"You must keep it appropriate," Iida warned. Ashido waved him off with a pout.

"Fine. What's the farthest we can go?" she sighed, obviously disappointed. Bakugou narrowed his eyes at that. What exactly did she have planned?

The class rep was quiet as he pondered her question. "Well," he said at last, "I will allow kissing, I suppose. Just no... French kissing. Sitting on laps is alright, too. Both parties must consent to both actions, however." That gleam immediately bounced back into her eyes. Uh-oh.

"Perfect! Truth or dare, Kiri?" The redhead pulled his arm off of Bakugou's shoulders as he leaned forward in thought. It was all for show, though, because everyone knew a guy obsessed with manliness such as Kirishima would only pick dare. Which he did. Ashido smirked. "I dare you to..." She crossed the distance between them, cupping her hand around her mouth to whisper something in his ear. Bakugou strained to hear it but to no avail.

Kirishima's cheeks flushed red, almost as dark as his hair, but Ashido wasn't done. Finally, after about eight more seconds, she pulled back, a confident simper on her fuchsia face.

"What's the dare?" demanded Bakugou. Ashido looked close to cackling now. She was spending too much time with Kaminari.

In lieu of an answer, Kirishima leaned over and promptly pressed his lips against Bakugou's. He went stiff as the girls squealed and the guys cheered. The redhead pressed his hand against the ash blond's cheek, tilting his head ever-so-slightly.

Fuck it, Bakugou thought, before hooking his hand around the back of Kirishima's neck and yanking him all that closer.

He was full-on sobbing now. Like, throw-your-dignity-and-pride-out-the-window-'cuz-you're-never-getting-it-back-after-this sobbing. He wanted to see at least one of 1-A. He would even take Midoriya or Mineta. Bakugou was broken enough to admit he missed his classmates- every last one of them.

Why him?! Why, out of everyone in the goddamn world, was he unlucky enough to get picked as an easy target and kidnapped? Why did those kidnappers have to die? Why did that kid keep bringing him food? Bakugou wanted to die. He would rather die than spend another week in that god-forsaken hellhole. He couldn't take it anymore.

Bakugou curled in on himself, pulling his sore legs up to his chest. He tried to hold his breath, to suffocate himself, but his stupid brain keep making him fucking breathe like the asshole it was.

The door creaked open, soft light spilling in the room accompanied by soft footprints. It was breakfast. Both Bakugou and the boy were used to the routine by now. He would undo Bakugou's muzzle, give him food, wait 'til he was done eating, then put the muzzle back on.

The mute boy walked over- just like clockwork. Bakugou just sat there, having gotten up on shaky knees, and waited for him to bie done. The second he was, Bakugou head-butted him in the face and shot to his feet. The ash blond almost fell straight over. His legs hadn't been used enough. He struggled out the door.

Bakugou Katsuki would feel the sunlight again if it was the last thing he did.

{unedited.}