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That night, and a few more nights after, he dreamed about Monoma.
Not in the way you'd think, with romantic lighting, love confessions, and the dream cutting off right when they were about to kiss.
Instead he was ruined with vivid images of choking him out. Wrapping a hand around his neck while stroking his cock. Licking and sucking hickeys down to his chest.
The dreams cut off at the best part too, though not where they kissed, but when they came.
Each time he woke up with a jolt in the twilight. Sweating, flushed, and his arousal curving up to his abdomen. He’d have to get up and make his way to the dorm’s bathroom in the middle of the night just to jack off and go back to bed and have the same dream all over again.
If his insomnia was bad before, it had to have been even worse now. He couldn’t remember the last night he got more than four or five hours of sleep.
The first night he’d felt nothing but crushing guilt not before the pleasure of relieving himself shortly after waking up so sudden and it weighed on him for the rest of the day. When he looked at Monoma in the halls, he almost retched from the shame descending upon him so suddenly.
He wanted to curl up into the corner, to hide himself away. From him.
The second night he had a similar dream. This time Monoma sucked him off, tears welling in his eyes as his throat bobbed, taking him all the way down to the hilt just like he had the day before. Same effect, same guilt. Same feeling of regret that he went too far and he couldn’t take anything he did that afternoon back.
Third night he just sat upright and flat out stared at his boner, concentrating hard and desperately willing it to go away. Of course it didn’t. He jacked off and fell back into bed like expected. In that dream Monoma rode his cock, gripping his soft thighs while he rolled his hips and whimpered helplessly.
The fourth night was when he started noticing things about Monoma. He’d put a familiar distance between them and started reeling away. Just like he did when he started having the dreams. Shinso tried to think something of it but he was too afraid of himself to think of him without fear of it turning erotic.
The fifth night was tonight. He didn’t dream about Monoma because he didn’t sleep at all.
.--☆--.
Despite the exhaustion that clung to his body, willing him to fall asleep right on the dorm’s couch, he remained wide awake pulled by a heavy-set nervousness.
A note had been slipped underneath his door earlier in the evening. It was clearly in Monoma’s neat handwriting, though he could tell it was written with shaky hands. The note said to meet in the living space of the dorms at midnight.
It was almost twelve as he sat leaned over on the couch, keeping his eyes on the one light in the space.
The windows were pitch dark with no stars out, and cast dark shadows where the singular light didn’t reach. It only added to his suspicion-driven nerves.
He was jumpy, so much so when the light flickered once, he almost shot out of his seat. What was he supposed to expect? No normal meeting or conversation happens in the dead of night like this.
Emphasis on dead. He feels like he’d happily collapse from sleep deprivation any second.
“Hey,” a blank voice called from his left.
Shinso’s soul almost left his body. He flinched hard and his hand immediately went to his chest. “Jesus, don’t do that,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
He mumbled an apology from his spot a few feet away. Shinso could make out his outline in the dark faintly before he spoke, scaring the sh-t out of him.
He can’t be mad, he’s done the same to Monoma a couple times, when he’d walk downstairs for a glass of water or to just wander around and he’d greet him from the shadows and he’d shriek, jumping up a few feet. That was before ... this happened.
He heard Monoma take a seat closer to him, not too close. It was odd the way his chest tightened when he did such a simple thing. For something he’s ruined and can’t have.
He folded his hands in his lap, clasping them together. “Look, I know it’s unorthodox that I called you here so... late,” he chuckled at late because he’s usually asleep by ten. But it’s been harder to sleep due to... recent events.
“But I want to talk.”
A beat passed. “Then talk,” Shinso said, but it came out as a plead because he’d been waiting for this and craving his voice after being away from it, even though he was the one who pushed himself away in the first place.
Anything would do. He wouldn’t mind if they stayed friends, because that means they talk and hangout instead of sitting on opposite sides of the couch and not speaking a word if they aren’t forced to. It hurts. All he wants is to talk again even if it comes with guilt.
“I’m sorry for what I said that day back in your room,” he said, pursing his lips together after. “I was way out of line.” Now that he was sitting in the light, Shinso could see his expression of shame, but it didn’t look typical. Like he was afraid of something else beyond his apology.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about that too,” he replied. He leaned forward on his elbows, staring at the rug and deciding to listen with his ears only because he couldn’t look at him properly. He didn’t know why he expected the filthy thoughts to go away the moment he apologized.
“You’re not alone, I really fucked up too back then.” He really did. He yelled at him, choked him, all without asking. Even if by some slim chance he ended up enjoying it, it was still really messed up.
Silence stood its ground for a few moments. Monoma let out a long breath through his nose. “...Okay,” he finally said, voice tensing up.
He said it like he was testing Shinso’s words and seeing if they held up against whatever else was plaguing him.
The blonde chuckled once, though it wasn’t very genuine.
“Well, this next thing is gonna sound pretty weird.”
Shinso’s stomach sparked worry again.
He turned towards him, maintaining eye contact which was even worse. It was like his eyes burned, which could have been the urge to sleep. He couldn’t look him right in his eyes and listen to whatever he said without thinking about-
“I really liked it when you choked me. Like a shit ton.” He snapped his eyes away from him, looking away while he brought his hands around his forearms. What was on his face was not quite a smile, but not quite a frown.
...
“I did as well,” he admitted quickly. He covered his mouth after. What the fuck. Why did he say that? He didn’t think about it. Why did it come out of his mouth, and with no shame?
“It’s all coming out now, I guess,” he mumbled almost to no one. “Horrible question but...”
“Would you choke me again?” he asked, quieter. Now he had a smile on his face, but it was definitely a shameful one.
No fucking way. If he could recall, he almost said this in one of his recent dreams.
His eyes widened if they weren’t already wide enough. “You really want me to?” he asked, eyebrows creasing because some part of him still didn’t believe him, even though the he pulled towards him, even though his voice was so confident.
“Why would I still be sitting here?” he tilted his head, getting sunk on his knees. Shinso moved so he was facing him with his body as well.
He breathed in. “Shit, well can you lean back?” he asked, face already flushing red at the prospect. Monoma did just that, leaning back slowly on his arms, legs spread partially. Shinso hooked his hands underneath his thighs, pulling him much closer.
He pulled him towards his waist and his legs wrapped around his hips without question. Their lower halves were pressed together at that one point. His hands settled at Monoma’s waist where his shirt rode up, slowly rubbing circles into his skin.
He took an unprompted moment to admire what he could see with his clothes still on. In fact, both of them still had their clothes on since it was a weekend and they both anticipated this. He really hadn’t noticed since it was so dark and there were other, more urgent things he was thinking about then.
“This okay?” Shinso asked, adjusting his grip on his thighs, which clenched around his hips at the contact.
“Yup,” he answered, already breathless, trying to roll his hips when Shinso’s hands held him in place with a pleasured sigh.
He had that far-off expression again. It was the same one from before, when he was trying to hurt him. This time Shinso was just as eager⎯ but without seeing red. Would it be the same?
His hands slowly left the curve of his waist and started unbuttoning the top of his shirt. Monoma noticed and a smirk appeared on his face. “You’re forward,” he said, voice cutting through the quiet that had built up in the past few minutes.
“Asshole, I’m trying to expose your neck so I can choke you properly,” he replied rather passive-aggressively. “You want this, don’t you?” The threat was of course empty. The question let his uncertainty slip out. He still felt reasonably guilty for that day and had his doubts about this whole endeavor.
He didn’t let up. “Well, when you put it that way, it doesn’t seem so enjoyable,” he shot back with a lilt. Shinso’s slight grin faltered and he raised his eyebrows as he let go of his shirt, putting his hands up. He only planned to undo one button.
He sighed, relenting. “Fine. Just hurry up.” He almost pouted until Shinso moved the hem of his shirt down to his shoulders.
Shinso just stared for a moment, pupils dilating at the sight of his pale neck, the dip in his throat that connected to his collarbone. He looked like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankle for the first time.
His neck wasn’t heavily defined, but he could see the V-shaped muscles of his pulse point. It’s normal but beautiful in a way. That shouldn’t turn him on, or anyone for that matter. Why did his heart speed up so much and his head fall so light?
The sudden attention flustered Monoma quickly. “Are you just gonna stare or are you gonna do something?” he asked defensively, a blush spreading to his face if it wasn’t there before.
Shinso’s lip caught between his teeth for a brief moment before he finally brought a hand up to the middle of his neck. Monoma’s breath hitched at the first brush of his palm against his throat. He slowly closed his fingers around his pulse point, drawing a gasp from the blonde.
He hated to admit it, but Monoma had spent the past several days masturbating as well. One hand around his throat and the other around his cock. No matter how he did it, nothing was matching up to the feeling of Shinso’s hands around his neck.
He started to feel that first wave of warmth passing through his body, effects of the lightheaded feeling that came with the oxygen deprivation. Fortunately, Shinso’s other hand found his thigh and gripped as he rolled his hips, seeking similar friction.
“Never a good time to say this, but since we’re being so honest, I had wet dreams of this,” he sighed, breathy. He let his thoughts slip deeper into impure territory and thought about what it would be like to be inside of him. However, he was too tired and satisfied to go back up to his room and grab lube for that path.
He could still imagine it though. He’d be tight, warm, and—considering how loud he was before—a moaning mess.
Monoma was unabashedly smiling now, a slight fucked-out grin on his lips as the back of his head hit the surface of the couch.
The warmth that continued to roll off of his lower half turned into heat as Shinso drew him closer, his crotch finally pressed against his. A groan slipped from Shinso’s lips and it sent a hot shiver down Monoma’s spine.
The pattern of heat, pressure and quiet noise continued until the blonde remembered his statement. “You did?” he asked softly. “That’s funny. I did as well,” he admitted. He would have turned his head away embarrassed, but he couldn’t in Shinso’s vice grip around his throat.
Shinso then became confused. If he had the same dreams, then why did he delay his distancing until later?
“Then why did you keep talking to me until yesterday?” he asked with a scrunch of his eyebrows, voicing his question. “Because I thought it was my fault and I should stop hanging out with you to fix it,” he replied.
It was absurd. They both thought they were in the wrong. They weren’t incorrect, he supposed. He chuckled at the premise and that chuckle turned into a groan as he felt Monoma’s thighs tighten around his hips, pressing his bulge further.
And his thighs were hot. Like burning hot. In fact his entire body was heating up. His face was flushed, his ears tinted pink and red seeped down his neck. His eyes fluttered staring off while his chest slowly rose and fell.
Shinso’s clothes felt like they were melting into his skin. His jeans rubbed tight against his cock, burning in the way that stung without a reward. It felt itchy, wrong. He wanted them off.
“Press inward,” Monoma rasped. One hand went to the hands on his neck, gesturing what he wanted done to him.
“You sure?” “Yes,” he huffed quickly, impatience threading into his voice.
Shinso did as asked, squeezing harder, using a second hand for good measure. It felt better on his hands, and Monoma seemed to like it more as well.
He pressed at the sides of his neck, where his pulse was. He could feel the rapid thumping underneath his fingertips. That was the spot where the room started blurring at the edges and all sound stopped except for rushing blood and the steady beat through his neck.
He only knew this because he tried it himself one of the nights. He wanted to see what was so appealing about being strangled. He learned what it was pretty quickly.
But he still preferred being the one to choke the other. It was the rush of power and control that was similar to the rush Monoma got from having his oxygen blocked off and let back in.
And he loved seeing Monoma so ruined. So far gone. Sweat streaked skin, the insistent heat prodding through his pants.
“Yes, fuck...” he breathed, gray-blue eyes wide and bleary, his throat struggling to bob underneath Shinso’s now suffocating grip.
That sound almost made the violet haired boy cum on the spot.
It was sick, certainly sick to want such a thing. To hold him under and watch him struggle. But it gave him pleasure all the less. So much...
He couldn’t take it anymore. His control snapped so suddenly and he was soon tugging with clumsy fingers at his jeans, zipping them down and pushing them down to his thighs, along with his boxers.
The cool air bit his flushed skin and he shivered, his head finally lolling back for the first time that night.
Monoma whined at the loss of his hands not before coming up and gasping like a fish out of water for air he forgot he needed. He looked up and immediately felt heat rush lower.
Shinso sat on his knees, one hand hovering near his cock, upright and throbbing, curving against his abdomen. His eyes flickered between relief and pain, hair plastered to his forehead. His chest heaved and his collar was slick, nipples hard through his thin white shirt.
“Please,” he whispered, voice strained. He was so hard it hurt. No, it burned. It burned to such an extent that when Monoma did come closer cautiously, like approaching a stray cat, and touched his cock with one hand, he hissed through his teeth, shivering.
Monoma quickly crawled onto his thighs and straddled him, hooking a shaking arm over his shoulder. He bit his lip to hold himself back from moaning too loud and pushed down his shorts and boxers past his cock.
Shinso wrapped both his hands around his neck, and truly suffocated him.
He could see the hand shaped bruises around his neck, already turning purple. He didn’t feel bad in the slightest, with Monoma bringing a hand down to their cocks and stroking them both.
His hand around his cock sent sparks, and he felt closer than he ever was. Teetering on the edge of orgasm.
Tears pricked the blonde’s eyes and his mouth hung open, and Shinso felt the final rush of heat trail down his body in a flash, like a string snapping inside his lower stomach.
He pulled Monoma’s head to the side harshly, and sunk his teeth into his neck, not hard enough to bleed, but deep enough to leave a mark from straight molars. He groaned into the side of his neck, eyes squeezed shut as heat left his body in waves.
That sent Monoma crashing down with him. He didn’t moan, rather shrieked, as his own release hit him just as hard. He hunched over, gripping his shoulders as he shook from the force of his own orgasm.
He clawed into the purple haired boy’s back, but he didn’t respond, his head lolled and he already knocked out from the force.
Monoma followed suit, body going slack, face buried in his chest.
.--☆--.
Kendo wobbled down the stairs, still half asleep.
As the early riser she was, she made a tired beeline straight for the kitchen and started making coffee absently. Her red-orange hair draped over her shoulders. Exhaustion tugged at her expression.
Sleep was extremely important to her, so when it was interrupted she could barely function in the mornings. She didn't get any the night before because she woke up from noises downstairs, like moans. Rather ghostly. She didn’t bother check and when they ended, and she didn't fall back asleep.
She also wondered why Monoma wasn’t up either. He was also there with Kendo most of the time because he woke up at the crack of dawn to piss everybody off, except for her. She often raced him to see who could wake up earlier.
She turned around, coffee pot in hand. What she saw over on the common room couch answered all her questions.
Monoma and Shinso were knocked out, she could hear their faint snoring from across the room. The blonde was draped across his body, head on his chest, using him as a pillow.
His neck was ruined, purple handprints surrounding his skin. A single deep bite mark dotted the side of his neck as well. They both were sound asleep too, they certainly tired themselves out.
His body covered his unclothed crotch but she could tell they were both doing... something last night. And that was where the moans came from. Gross.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “So that’s what stopped me from sleeping,” she mumbled. She was going to strangle Monoma later, but it seems like he enjoyed it so she would punch him instead.
She turned around, setting the coffee pot on the counter and went back upstairs. “Tetsutetsu! It finally happened!” she yelled.
He would need to help her get them both off the couch, even though she had the strength do it herself.
It was way too early for this.