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Kirishima was taken aback. Despite his thick clothes, he could feel hot fingers digging into his shoulder, trying to pull him further with whole arm. He felt that despite the softness of the touch, there was strength in it. Bakugou meant it.
Kirishima opened his mouth to say something, but Bakugou just shook his head. He didn’t want to hear another excuse. He didn’t want to give himself any more unnecessary hope. He didn’t want to be broken again.
Kirishima’s heart pounded so hard he was afraid that his heart would jump out of his chest. His heart knew who it belonged to. It wanted to jump out of his chest and land in Bakugou’s palms, where it would beat until it died and give his owner joy.
He swallowed loudly. He held out his hand in front of him. He couldn’t resist. He touched the blonde’s face. Bakugou groaned in pain, which began to stab him all over his body, creating cold spots on his body that he wanted to warm with Kirishima’s touch. He closed his eyes.
“Don’t do this to me,” Bakugou whispered in a voice he had never heard before. He sounded so fragile and distant.
Bakugou’s heart was surrounded by high walls, which hid behind a fragile vase with the most beautiful decoration. Kirishima was one of the few to see it. But he was the first to take the vase in his hand.
However, Kirishima was always too energetic and careless. The vase had fallen from his hands several times and shattered into several pieces. Each time he picked it up from the ground, it returned in its entirety, but a few cracks remained.
Kirishima wanted nothing more than to erase the cracks. But nothing work out.
Every soft touch, every holding hands, every kiss, every hug, every night that was filled with moans and promises that neither of them could keep; created a mosaic of beautiful pain on the weight of his heart.
The quiet moment lasted several long minutes. The air around them was heavy. There were a few unanswered words in it. Kirishima’s fingers dug into Bakugou’s nape. He still couldn't open his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed into a hurt expression.
Kirishima did the only logical thing. He didn’t kiss him. He let go of his face. And he left.
He turned before calling for the elevator. Bakugou stood in the same place, his eyes now opened but fixed on the ground. “We will see each other tomorrow, right?” He asked cautiously.
A painful moan came from Bakugou’s throat, and he tried to hide it behind sarcastic laughter. “Of course.” He finally looked at him.
Red mingled with crimson, and Kirishima felt like he didn’t know how to breathe for a moment. “What kind of best man would I be if I left the groom at the altar with the bride alone?”
The silence between them was broken by the tinkling of an elevator. Kirishima didn’t tell him anything, just turned and walked away.
Bakugou stood in the doorway for a few more minutes before the silence was broken by the vibrating of his telephone, which danced on the glass table in the living room, disturbed him from his silent thoughts.
Message. From Kirishima’s fiancée.
“Katsuki! Thank you for preparing a bachelor party for Ei-chan. Was it good? Hope you two didn't do anything stupid! Haha.”
Bakugou couldn’t answer her. His hands shook and his eyes blurred with tears that began to drip on the phone display. He tried to avoid the sobs that began to wire from his throat. He was starting to feel sick.
Tomorrow will be the most challenging day of his life. But he has to do it. For himself. For Kirishima. For them.
But now... now he just wanted to cry and remember all the moments when he held Kirishima’s hot body in his arms and heard his annoyingly loud laugh.
He will answer her later. He needed to sleep now.