Work Text:
Saihara opens the door to his rundown apartment that he shares with Momota. He groans angrily when he sees the mess Momota makes. When will Momota learn to control his attacks and start keeping to himself in his room? Just the sight of a shattered vase sends Saihara's blood boiling.
"God, Momota", Saihara mutters under his breath and throws his bag across the room, landing right on to the couch.
Saihara grumbles to himself more as he stomps over to the kitchen and takes out the needed spices to making their food. He presumes that Momota was in his room, snorting rows of cocaine from his drawers. The asshole's a drug addict. Not like Saihara cares. As long as that douche doesn't smell or look like he snorted drugs when he comes down the stairs.
There was a time Momota and Saihara loved each other, loved and cared for the other. But that was in the killing game, and not in real life. After the simulation, Momota had straight up confessed that he had no feelings for Saihara. Saihara was, of course, hurt and devastated that the man he loved had told him he never loved him, and it was just his Danganronpa self talking behind his words.
And Saihara ran. He ran away from the building, only to be retrieved by the local policemen and put to custody and therapy in the walls of the Team Danganronpa building. What was worse was that his room was put right next to Momota's and Saihara can hear the man's voice and frustrated growls through the thin walls. It was the biggest torture Saihara had ever witnessed, even more than the simulation. He spent the nights crying himself to sleep, knowing that Momota would never love him.
His sick, one-sided love died over a year ago, when they were both deemed cured of their illnesses, and sent out to the world that was meant to devour them. Even knowing that Saihara was still in love with Momota, Momota offered a compromise: Saihara would give him a home, and Momota would give him the love and affection Saihara yearned for.
"So, is that a deal?", Momota growled on his ear, his hot breath tickling Saihara's ear. Saihara was elated and filled with ecstasy to respond, so he nodded a yes.
Many nights were filled with ecstasy and stained sheets after they rented this shitty apartment. Momota was very callous, and would sometimes go harsh on Saihara against his wishes, but Saihara doesn't care, since he's in bed with the person he loves.
And the love faded. It faded, until it was no more. Saihara would only indulge with Momota for his own personal needs, nothing more.
"He never loved you. Only the idea of you." Slowly but surely, all these thoughts circulated Saihara's mind, but he never minded them.
He stopped caring after Danganronpa.
Momota hears his name being called. He stops snorting cocaine and goes to the bathroom to wash himself up, so Saihara couldn't smell cocaine on him. He grabs the expensive perfume Saihara bought last week, and sprays it on himself. If Saihara respects his wishes, then Momota can respect his as well.
As he goes down the stairs, he sees Saihara glaring up at him near the vase he had broken.
"Oh, sorry about that", Momota says.
"Fucking Christ, Momota", Saihara says. "Would it kill you to stay in your room when you have panic attacks like that?"
"I'll try", Momota replies. "Anyway, what's for dinner?"
Saihara mutters something under his breath (something insulting Momota, but he doesn't give a flying fuck) and tells him it was fish again.
Dinner was rather smooth sailing, though Momota couldn't help but think how he had affected Saihara with his fake confession. It was supposed to make Saihara distance himself from him, from his destructive behavior and everything in between. But after the past few years of living with him, his love for him blossomed to something indefinite, while Saihara's love for him starts to sink down the drain.
The nights they shared together used to be filled with passion, and sometimes, Momota had forgotten keeping his physical attraction schtick up. But after a few months, he begins to sense that Saihara has lost his affections for him, but still chose him as a rebound partner to fulfill each other's physical desires.
Saihara's became aggresive, his temper as hot as the fiery pits of hell. Probably from work, as his boss gives him a hard time. Or probably for Momota.
It was strange, seeing an awkward boy blowing their tops off just because of a shattered vase. The Saihara he knows wouldn't just shout or call him names. He may not have a peaceful mind in the game, but he had a peaceful personality. It's what made Momota drawn to him the first place.
Thanks to him, that Saihara was gone, replaced with a fourth of the person he used to love. Only his eyes, hair, and skin remains. Momota sighs loudly, catching Saihara's attention. His eyes were emotionless, and faint anger resides in them.
"I was... thinking...", Momota says, making this whole dinner awkward. Saihara taps the table impatiently, wanting to hear what he was to say. What if he doesn't want to do this? Does he even want to do this with the person who broke his heart and would summon him only when he needed to fulfill his desires?
"What?", the forceful, impatient snap of Saihara's voice sends Momota's mind back to reality. He breathes.
"Is it all right if you go on a date with me?", Momota says, avoiding eye contact with the other. He can almost hear Saihara visibly stiffen. He hears the screeching of a chair and he looks at Saihara, who was now seething in anger.
"Are you serious?", Saihara says. "After all you put me through? What the fuck, Momota?! I loved you to hell and back, even let you go rough on me on some nights, but no. My love for you is gone."
Momota blinks, hurt from what Saihara has said to him, but before he could restrain himself, however, he takes full control of this whole mess and crashes his lips against Saihara's, ignoring the muffled stops and don't's coming from the latter's mouth. The kiss went on for a minute or so before Saihara pushes back and lands a solid punch on Momota (Momota admits that Saihara had gotten a lot stronger).
Saihara was breathing rapidly, his eyes wide full of adrenaline. He had tears coming out of his face, and Momota can't help but feel guilty that he had caused this mess. It was all his fault. If he had been honest about his feelings, this wouldn't have happened. Everything wouldn't have happened.
"Out." Saihara says through gritted teeth. "Never come back, you fucker. Get out!"
Momota's words were buried deep in his throat. I love you. He was not afraid of anything, but seeing the only person he truly cared about get hurt and seething with anger sent his blood cold.
Then Momota turns his back on Saihara, making his way towards the door. He had no last words for his depart. Momota skitters away, not noticing the glint of hatred in Saihara's eyes as the latter plays Icarus once more.