𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 | 𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐤𝐮 | ✓

Act Two, Scene Four

The next morning at the dining table, the air between is prickling with tension. Deku is snappy and hungover, and his first demand of the day is that I bring him a cup of tea. When I set it in front of him, he lifts it to his lips before wrinkling his nose in disgust. “The milk is at least two degrees too cold. Make it again,” he orders.

 I have the strong urge to empty the entire teapot over his head. 

 Later, in the afternoon, when he is in the drawing room reading over paperwork, he yells out for me to come to him. I set aside what I am doing to tend to him, jogging downstairs quickly before he has to call again and complain about how slow I am. 

 “Yes?”

 “I am bored. This paperwork is such a drag.”

 I huff. This is what he summoned me for? Jesus fucking Christ. “You want me to entertain you then, I suppose? Shall I just whip out a juggling act?” I snark. 

 “If you could, that would be great. Actually, I’d really like to see you walk a tightrope while you’re at it,” he says sarcastically. 

 “Oh, sure! Let me just add it to the list of things to do, along with all the other fucking demands you make of me.”

 He gets up from his chair with a bored sigh. “I’m going out to the garden. File away the paperwork for me.”

 I gather up the leaves of paper into a messy bundle in my arms and run after him as he waltzes into the estate gardens. “Don’t just leave me with your mess, shithead!” I yell. 

 He cups a hand over his ear. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of your clompy peasant shoes!”

 I let out a sound that is something in between a growl and a shriek. “You’re so infuriating!”

 “Behold,” he turns his open palms up to the sky, “the number of fucks I give.”

 I shove the stack of papers into his chest roughly and whirl on my heel, stomping away. 

 “Don’t leave without me dismissing you!”

I hiss and make a vulgar gesture at him without looking back. 

 “You are dismissed!” he calls.

 “I already left, fuckwad!”

 ♔

 I am washing up dishes in the sink when he finally returns from the garden. 

 “I’m hungry,” he announces. 

 “Good for you.”

 “Make me something to eat.”

 “I already made dinner. You missed out because you were off sulking in the garden,” I inform him as I scrub at a spot that won’t come off a plate.

 “Make something again, then.”

 Before my brain fully registers what I am doing, my body has moved of its own accord and the sopping wet sponge I was cleaning the dishes with is flying through the air and hitting him smack in the face before dropping with a wet plop to the floor. 

 For a moment, neither of us makes a sound. Deku’s mouth is hanging open in a stunned O, little bits of soapy foam on his cheeks.

  A disbelieving, bark-ish laugh. “What was that for?”

 “What was that for?” I repeat incredulously. “Because I’m sick of your constant demands! You’re pissed off that I wouldn’t sleep with you last night, and now you’re taking it out on me by being a hundred times more insufferable than usual!”

 His face flushes a deep red and I know I’m right, even as he fumbles for an excuse. 

 “Don’t even try to fucking deny it,” I snap, stepping closer to him and backing him into a corner of the kitchen bench. I jab an accusatory finger at his chest. “You’ve been full of pent-up tension all day.”

 “Oh yeah?” he tilts his chin up to me haughtily.  “And you’ve been dying to fuck me all week,” he challenges.

 I meet his glare evenly. “In your dreams.”

 A scoff. “Oh, please. You couldn't keep your hands off me if your life depended on it.”
 
 “You’re right,” I say, and his coy expression falters for a split second in surprise. “But aren’t I lucky that my life doesn’t depend on it?” 

 My lips crash onto his, and as the softest of gasps escapes his mouth, I can tell that, despite the coquettish act he plays, he has never been kissed before. Never been held close, never touched with roaming, hungry hands. The knowledge kindles a fire inside me and I want to devour him, to make sure that I am his first for each of these experiences and more, to take his first everything away from him and keep it for myself.

He parts his soft lips for me and I push my tongue in, familiarising myself with his taste, of mint and jasmine and desperation.

  He claws a hand at my chest, the gesture needy and begging for more. I lift him up by his hips and set him atop the kitchen bench, a makeshift throne for the king of my heart. His legs wrap around my waist, pulling me in tighter, closer, like he can’t get enough, the physical sensation of his body pressed to mine isn’t enough -- he needs to weld our skin together and get closer, closer, closer. 

I knot my fingers into a fistful of his emerald curls, my other hand pressed to his lower back. Deku’s hand roams to the side of my neck, then my throat, gripping firmly but not at all tight enough to choke me. A groan slips past my lips, unbidden. 

He pulls back by mere centimeters, a self-satisfied grin on his pretty face. “You know what the best part of this place is?” 

 “What.”

 He looks at me coyly through his lashes and his fingertips grip my throat a little tighter. “No one’s around to hear us.”

 I feel lust stir up in my groin. “Then I’ll make you scream my name so loud that everyone back home can hear.”

 He lets out a little laugh which turns into a whimper as I kiss the sensitive skin on the side of his neck and down to his collarbone. I make quick work of undoing the buttons of his shirt and tossing it to the floor, the rest of his clothes following suit. I leave a progression of kisses lower and lower, over his chest and stomach, then down to sharp, freckled hip bones. 

 I’m ravenous for him as I push him down so his back is against the mahogany benchtop, laid out like a feast for the starving. At some point my clothes vanish too, and a deep carnal need overrides my ability to think about whether this is actually a good idea or if we’ll wake up and regret it tomorrow, as my world narrows down to just me, him, and our ragged breathing as we move together, lovers entwined in an eternal tango with death.