Their kisses flickered and faltered like summer rain. Kido let out a shaky breath as his hands travelled underneath her shirt, her hoodie long abandoned on the threadbare carpet beneath them. Kano paused.

"You okay?" Never hurt to ask, although of course it did quite often.

Kano didn't miss the tears threatening to spill from Kido's eyes as she glared accusingly at him.

"I'm fine. Don't stop." She pulled Kano closer to her by the fabric of his own shirt and kissed him hard, tearing the unspoken questions on his lips apart. He shrugged defeat and continued.

(Weak.)

Kido pressed into him with all the clumsiness of a newborn foal, fists clenched beneath her as she shivered. Kano wanted to tell her to stop. To stop trying to prove herself in whatever sort of twisted challenge she had turned this into. She didn't want this. He knew she didn't, but Kido carried on anyway, and Kano was too much of coward to deny her. As he watched her pull off her shirt in one rapid movement, like she was scared she wouldn't be able to do it if she hesitated, Kano wondered how much of Kido actually felt any sort of desire for this like he did.

Even pale and shaking as she was, Kido, her green locks illuminated by the moonlight, wasn't a bad sight at all. Kano briefly thought he should have some sort of shame in thinking that, but he forgot all of that in the way Kido was nibbling on his bottom lip- no, biting. Gnawing.

(She's so beautiful.) Kano brought a hand up to cup the back of her head, while the other went down to her waist. Gently, gently, not too hard, he told himself, but she was still kissing him and his head was spinning from her scent and he couldn't tell whether he was brushing her skin or gripping it and suddenly it didn't even matter because all he wanted was her.

But not like this. No. Not during a 3am escape into Kido's bedroom, when they were clumsily trying to drink in each other's presence with the facade that it made everything all better when really it only made everything much, much worse.

(Out of the corner of his eye, through the dilapidated window, Kano could see the glow of the streetlights slowly fading.)

In a fair, ideal world, he and Kido would have slept together, not out of an urge to prove that their pasts wouldn't define them, but love. That was what he desired. Not this. This shouldn't be happening.

But the universe was not well known for being fair, and there was no such thing as what 'should' or 'shouldn't' be. The universe was emotionless and the concept of what 'should have been' was something that humanity had invented to torture itself with. The world they lived in was one where broken teenagers were left fumbling at each other's clothes in the middle of the night, muffling moans and gasps and sobs like they knew they had to because if they didn't they knew everything would break.

(Just like they had.)

Who are you trying to prove yourself to, Kido? Me? As their clothes slowly slipped off, Kido's movements become more jagged, stiff, like a porcelain doll contorted into awkward positions by a child that wanted to see how far the doll would bend before it broke. Yourself? He heard a sharp intake of breath from Kido, like she was trying to ready herself for something awful.

Or is it him you're trying to prove yourself to?

Kano only realised his fingers were digging into Kido's hips when she pulled back and pushed his hands down herself, wincing and trembling harder than she had been before. "Too hard," she mumbled. "I can't…"

Kano jolted his hands back like they had been burnt. His smile burnt to wear, but it didn't falter, even now. "Ah, sorry. I crossed a line again, didn't I?"

Kido stared at him, eyes gleaming with some sort of emotion that Kano couldn't grasp. Then, breathing in, she pulled herself away and swept her curtain of hair around to fall over her chest. "You should go to bed," she said, swallowing before going to curl up on the other side of the mattress. As she pulled the comforter over her, all Kano could see of Kido from under it was the wispy tendrils of hair trailing over the bed, reflecting black in the shadow of night. "Goodnight."

The sudden dismissal hurt more than the slaps and kicks he got on a daily basis. Still, he nodded and picked up his clothes from the floor, slipping his shirt and hoodie back on with a mechanical sort of efficiency. In a matter of seconds, he was fully dressed and at the door, waving a practiced informal hand at Kido without looking back. "'Night."

As his hand grasped the brass handle of the door, Kano heard a faint, "I'm sorry," from under the comforter.

He let the words curl his mouth some, before replying, gently, so as not to wake anyone else up, "It's fine." He glanced back into the room, unable to make out any of Kido's features in the dark. If it's you, it's fine. "Take as long as you need. I'll wait, okay?" I'll wait forever, if that's what it takes.

(I'd prefer if it didn't, though.)

After dawdling for a few seconds to see if the girl was going to reply, Kano realised only the silence of night was going to be his conversation partner. He chuckled, bidding goodnight again to Kido before stepping out of the room.

From inside, he swore he heard someone say, "I love you."

But when he froze, ears desperately trying to listen for more words, only the faint sound of the clock ticking and the tap in the kitchen leaking echoed throughout the sleeping house.