👿 Open Post 3

[blastedass]

Open Post

What to hit up Bakugo for some action? Feel free to do whatever here!



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[blastedass]

[is he sorry for putting his knee between todoroki's legs? not completely. though seeing the way that mouth knots up into nigh-pout under angled brows lances a quick, heavy shot of guilt through his guy. the other boy had only been worried for him and spoke out of that. yet his pride is a ridiculous thing and having that concern levied at him right now would only weigh todoroki down more if the blonde gave him any indication his performance was going to suffer. they don't have the luxury to doubt whether either of them can do anything less than their best, forced to trust the opposite to carry his own weight. he'll excuse his gruffness this time, but likely later will owe it to todoroki to apologize. somehow. in his own way. bones move, muscles tighten, skin stretches, and the pair rise together in the darkness of the alley. pull with each other to make it through this, injuries and flagging quirks be damned. he can't have his boyfriend think for a moment he won't be able to protect him. no matter the way his arm feels as if flames crawl through his flesh and the strength wants to sap off his shoulder. he glances to todoroki's side as the boy rises and cups an arm around his ribs. shit, those are still injured from the impact, all because he couldn't get his own quirk activated enough.

stalking from the alley, he pauses right at the entrance, enough to poke a head out like a curious mole, twisting this way and that to check their surroundings. no cars line to road, no people on the sidewalks, no bullets snapped off towards his spiky head. he wonders if they should go out the back of the alley, but that would be going away from the highway. boots scrape against the ground in a grit of gravel under his soles as he steps forward and emerges from the sandwiching walls. out into the open, his heart rate picking up as if he was some damn deer creeping back into the meadow after the hunters left. he hates this shitty vulnerable feeling, the idea of being hunted by unknown assailants.]

Urusei. You're stuck with me whether you like it or not. [great thing to say post-threat to turn your boyfriend into alleyway modern art. as todoroki falls in step beside him, he keeps close by. not enough to bump his injured arm into the other hero, but is deliberately taking the slot between his boyfriend and the road. if something is to come at them, he'll be the one taking it. shit part is, he's never been to this part of the city. without being able to fly, he can't get a scope of the surrounding areas. fuck, he wants to put his arm around todoroki and support him. hobbling together as a pair would only slow them down, so he's forced to trust his lover to move.

facing forward, walking forward, one step at a time brings them closer and closer to the hill reaching for the highway beyond it. his breathing comes shorter and he silences his breath to avoid todoroki noticing. a brief reprieve in the phonebooth hadn't made up for running afterwards, leaving them winded and exhausted from the ordeal. at least the bandage keeps his blood inside, but he's lost plenty already. one more step, another step, ears peeled and straining for any revving engines or the grind of tires.]

Huh? [talking? now? it'd better be something important! ... fucking stupid, that's what it is. melting his chest in the way he wants to yell at him and laugh simultaneously. lips quirk in a strange wiggle, half a sneer half a smirk. no, it's not stupid. it's an innocent question that reinforces todoroki's stalwart belief they'll get through this. trusting him implicitly. ironically, it's this simple question, not those sappy things on todoroki's mind, that makes the blonde feel a gush of strength, affection, and resolve pour into each sinew and nerve. his breathing evens out slightly, the pain dulling a single digit. that's right. they're going to get through this.] Tantan men, but we'll use soba noodles.

[as the road climbs into view beneath their feet, rows of trees part ways to see between their trunks and finally opens to the highway. cars pass in alternating speeds, it's busy, likely due to the lowering sun, people heading home or to work depending on their shifts... jumping out into traffic is a foolish idea, but it would be the easiest way to get attention. not INTO traffic as a dumbass animal, but even on the side of the road, standing and waving would quickly get a driver's attention. neither of them are hard to recognize. but it would also cause a traffic jam should they interrupt the flow and have someone-- then multiple people --stopping to either help them or rubberneck. to say nothing of their kidnappers who might use the slowed traffic to harm people.] Shit... Waiting for the police could take a while.

[hairsplit]

( it's a strange feeling, the relief that rushes through him--bakugou isn't scolding him, or even making a face at his question, and that earns a soft puff of breath, almost a laugh, tinged on the tip of his tongue. he understands him. bakugou's always understood him in his own way, different from people like kirishima, or midoriya, who could understand him just by the sheer goodness of their hearts. bakugou's able to crawl into the cracks, to spread himself out there and read through all the pieces of himself that he's kept hidden away without breaking them into larger pieces--and there's a soft nod of his head, his hair ducking, bangs hiding the slightly reddened rim of his gaze for long enough to get it under control. bakugou believes in them, believes in him, and something like this isn't going to be any kind of end for them. it's just going to be a pain to get out of it.

his fingers tighten, slightly, digging into his shirt: for as much as his ribs ache, he knows that bakugou's arm hurts more, and so he purposefully keeps his pace slow, as though to force bakugou to match him rather than to force bakugou to admit that he has to go a little slower. )

Mm... Spicy, like always. ( his tongue isn't quite as refined as bakugou's is, given that he prefers his food a little more bland, a little cooler, but even so--bakugou isn't the only one who enjoyed his sister's spicy mapo tofu. ) I want gyoza, too.

( the thought of a good meal, warm food, bakugou's snarling at him to eat more--it makes his chin lift, bolstering himself with a faint smile as they continue on. he's well aware of the relative silence around them, which is both good and bad, all things considered; bakugou's still losing blood, by the way he glances again at his shoulder, and his jaw sets, trying to decide if it's worth it to stop them for long enough to try to put more pressure on the wound. maybe he should tie it all tighter, as though trying to avoid having to resort to fire--but would bakugou even let him?

he's lost enough in his own calculations that he barely even recognizes that they've made it to the highway until the sound becomes too loud to ignore; his eyes round, both pleased and disappointed. a part of him had hoped that they might find the police out here, but judging by the sight, there's no stopped cars, no blazing siren, no ambulance here to pick them up. his gaze swings to bakugou, once, then back out towards the lanes; with a soft nod of his chin, he agrees. )

We can't wait that long. Not with y--not with injury. ( there's a slight wince, as though he doesn't want to say it-- ) If we flag someone down, we can call...Endeavor, at least.

( if nothing else, he could get a car to them quickly. briefly, he wonders if it might be better to call hawks, but he doesn't have that number memorized; unfortunately, it's going to have to be his father, which is an entirely different can of worms.

the tilt of his head at bakugou is a silent question--he's already charged forward too many times, dragged bakugou through his own plans without asking, and since they have a moment here, however small, he wants his boyfriend's opinion. the last thing he wants to do is make a mistake here, so close to the end; his gaze slides back to bakugou's shoulder again, like he can't help but look at it like his own mistake every time. )

[blastedass]

[giving todoroki anything but hope and assurance right now would spit in the face of being a hero. even if he does do so in his usual gruff way. despite his initial digging of his heels into the ground to get any knowledge on this blank-faced idiot through his head, bits and pieces began filtering across. from his blase way of walking in front of him on their route to remediation classes to his rejection of violence against those shitty brats to his embarrassed frustration when dealing with endeavor's attempts to be a better father, he's noticed more and more little things about todoroki. elements stuck in his mind serving as a chisel and guide to navigate through his glaciated flambéed heart. checking on his expression enough times to notice a tiny twitch at one end of his brow when he's irked, his lips setting in a firmer press as emotions rise, his eyes lingering a second or two longer on something interesting him. he knows more about this boy than he ever thought he would or even wanted to. and because of that... he never wants to see someone he knows so much about and cares so much about crumble in the face of despair. they're getting the fuck through this, one damn way or another. so he can continue to see and learn more of those stupid lovely things composing todoroki.

doesn't mean he's "okay" with the hero slowing his pace down as a means of forcing his own legs into a drawn speed. dammit, he wants to go faster, to run, to throw caution to the wind and blitz the damn hill before something else goes wrong! that "something" being someone's ankle if todoroki didn't demand through body motion alone they ease up. all without saying anything to piss him off. what a class act.]

Duh. [spicy as always, with one half cooler or a separate option for the more sensitive tongue. why the hell would he make something or get something his boyfriend wouldn't enjoy? real shit relationship decision there. recipes passing todoroki's silent approval get stored away for later.] Fresh or frozen?

[shut up. there's a difference in flavor. unfortunately, they aren't permitted the luxury of a polite demure arrival of police cares and flaming pro heroes in the relative peace of a highway-crested hillside. while the option to wait there crossed his mind, standing out in the open with people trying to kidnap or kill them still roving round the unknown in range is a shitty idea. keeping cover away from vehicles tearing after them and in sight of witnesses soundly ruins any attempt at stealing either of them away again. the highway is their safety, screw the publicity on the horizon. neither of their injuries are doing them favors when it comes to time either. he forces his fingers open and closed again, forces blood through his veins, forces feeling back into his nerves. you listen to him, damn fingers; no one's giving you permission to cut out while he's still conscious!]

You're a dumbass if you think Endeavor isn't on his way right now. [the dispatch knows both heroes are in the area; of course they're going to alert the number one hero about it! if not others in their class because gossip's a fucking worm with them. todoroki's gonna have to deal with his annoying ass smothering old man one way or another. the sirens he heard earlier aren't registering in his ears either, making him wonder if those were for them or an unrelated search. under cover of trees lining the highway, they can stay hidden for a bit longer to decide.]

Stop looking at it! [his shoulder!] I'm fine! [sheesh! you have your own injuries to deal with, half-n-half! his is treated as best they could together in the time they had with the shit they had. there is another option though... without causing a traffic jam or waiting for the police here. red eyes narrow at the oncoming traffic. plenty of cars and trucks, but what he's watching for...] There. Get ready to jump.

[an open flatbed of supplies dragged behind a truck. they can easily make the jump. crashing into it means a hard impact, but they'll have safety, a route, and provided they driver doesn't flip the fuck out, possible communication going forward. is it commandeering a vehicle for heroics? possibly. he rolls his good shoulder and sets his foot in front of him, preparing to move.] Don't you dare fucking miss.

[hairsplit]

( wishful thinking, maybe. it's moments like these where he wishes that he could forget endeavor's overbearing nature, especially when it comes to him--moments where he wishes he could have the kind of family that other people seem to have, with parents who hug gently and express their love in the right ways, and not whatever the hell it is he gets when something terrible has happened and endeavor decides that his life was sufficiently risked.

when he'd been younger, he'd been convinced that endeavor only acted that way out of fear of losing his ultimate tool--that he would be distraught to lose the thing that he'd spent so much time training, honing to become something greater than himself. it didn't matter that it was him, just that it was endeavor's precious half-cold half-hot masterpiece: and sometimes he still feel that way, when he gets scolded after a school mission or exam. that it doesn't matter that he's his son, just that he's his creation.

so wishful thinking, that maybe endeavor isn't already on his way. that he isn't raging and screaming and demanding that his driver go faster, that he isn't just giving up halfway to fly the rest of the distance. the unfortunate realization makes him wince: he tries to hide it, twisting his face away from bakugou, but his gaze scans out across the highway, as though certain he'll see a familiar jut of red flames coming their way. it's inevitable. bakugou's right--he can't get out of something like this, no matter how much he wants to.

that doesn't mean he thinks this is a good idea. the thought of the impact of bakugou's shoulder, with the jump--his breath comes out in a rush, like he's already formulating the words of his argument, jaw locked, firm; still, his eyes are tracing the flatbed, watching its approach, and he knows that even if he takes bakugou by the arm and yanks him back, he'll still do it because that's the kind of person that he is. it's better not to waste time, then--he just has to make it as safe as he can.

which means, of course, that he's taking a step forward, priming himself to jump first--because he can always brace bakugou with ice, if he has to, as much as it might take out of him. with a short nod of confirmation, he skids up the curb of the barrier so that he can take a primed leap off the top, colliding almost instantly with the flatbed with only the smallest brace of ice to slow himself down--the truck swerves a little with the weight, but it doesn't slide out of the lane, and though the supplies bunched around him are rattled, he slides himself up onto his knees, immediately whipping his head up to look for bakugou's jump all the same.

immediately, the searing pain of the impact washes over him--it's mostly just his damaged ribs, crying out from further jostling, but there's nothing to be done about it; he folds his arm in tight against his side to press into them, his other hand poised as though he will absolutely encase bakugou in ice if he doesn't land nicely next to him in the flatbed. being protective, being in love, being the reason that bakugou's this hurt to begin with: it all mixes together with that trademark todoroki stubbornness, meaning his jaw is set into a neat little frown, determined; he's at least grateful that the driver hasn't immediately skidded to a stop yet, meaning they might have more to work with than he'd thought.

he does, at least, have the cheeky forethought to call out into the noise of the highway, as bakugou's jumping into the flatbed with him-- )

Don't you dare miss.

[blastedass]

[there's too much in there for him to help todoroki unpack. he's never been one to listen to other's sob stories or show sympathy for trauma. kirishima's self doubt in the common area earned him a curt reality check and reminder. midoriya's troubles likewise received little more than irritable demands to stop complaining and get stronger. walking right past an argument with nothing but "losers" tossed his classmates' way for getting into a squabble over bullshit.

and yet, there are things he refuses to touch. todoroki's trauma and past came to light as more and more layers peeled back, resulting in his attention lingering on the other boy. when endeavor attended their remediation training, he found himself glancing at his classmate from the side, gauging his reaction, focus, and feelings. imperceptible as they can be on his blase face, todoroki's no longer an icy heart. emotions arise, he notices them. similar to his work in their internship under endeavor. how his voice changed when he chewed his father out for wanting to give his son special training. how his jaw set when a gruff voice tried to pull back from what he can only assume had been familiarity in shouting.

todoroki's issues with his father are far too great for his boyfriend to even remotely consider shouldering. but by the same token, what kind of shitty boyfriend would he be to let the man he loves endanger himself over pride and past? endeavor's on his way, whether todoroki likes it or not. he called the police knowing exactly what would happen. regret's a pool he doesn't permit himself to dip into often. both men are changing, breaking out of painful hells. perhaps someday, they'll be able to reach whatever plateau will permit them to coexist. so long as endeavor gets it through his thick skull he'll still be beside todoroki when that day comes.

as he readies to jump from a grassy knoll onto the bed of a truck passing towards them. is this a good idea? not the greatest. but the best one they have right now with their current situation. with their quirks on the fritz, no promise of their pursuers giving up or knowledge on their whereabouts, no steady contact with police or heroes, he doesn't feel comfortable standing around near the place they escaped from. get away, put some distance, sort their options, move. besides, he has an additional plan once they make it onto the damn truck...

todoroki moves-] Who said you get to go in front of me?! You're injured, dammit!

[boots crunch against a the metal rim, groaning it beneath down to the solid brace, and grass becomes asphalt in a flash beneath his airborne legs. one arm overhead, the other swinging to the side, and lands almost at the same time as the other hero. one leg buckles as he goes down, rolling onto his uninjured arm deliberately to avoid crushing the other one. if the driver didn't hear the impact, he'll certainly have felt the sudden weight. one of them? no. but two? duh. he quickly rolls back to his knees, planting his good hand on the truck bed and ducking to the side as a sack of fertilizer slides towards him. great. crashed into a landscaping flatbed. plenty of gardening supplies range from packaged to tied down to free resting albeit stuffed between other tools. noticing todoroki's pained wince and arm clasping to his side, he quickly puts a hand to his boyfriend's shoulder.] Lie down before you break something else.

[miss. of course he wasn't going to miss, idiot! he's jumped onto moving targets plenty of times! whether todoroki obeys him or not, the blonde twists to the side and starts making his way across the undulating grounds of supplies. there's no way the driver hasn't spotted them by now; he sees his eyes wide as dinner plates in the rear view mirror as the hero crawls towards the truck cab. oh yeah, this geezer recognizes them. all he needs is to get to that small window...

*sha-kunk!*] Gimme your damn phone, and keep driving! [now they have constant and safe access to the police and their friends, while being more or less protected.]

[hairsplit]

( a flood of relief, though he doesn't want it to show on his face--it does anyway, a flash of it from eyes to mouth, a slow breath that sighs out in a rush of steam. bakugou's always been better at this sort of thing, and he thinks part of that is from having such precise control over his quirk; with how long he'd stuck to just his ice, it had taken some time to learn how to keep himself afloat with his fire, how to move, how to aim for things and keep going. but bakugou's never had that kind of trouble, something that he envies as much as he admires: it's always been easier for him to learn by watching others, and having had bakugou so close to him all the time has really helped him make improvements. there was no doubt, really, that bakugou would make it with ease--just as there was no doubt that he'd be the one to take charge, all the same.

one of his hands lifts, almost like he wants to reach out and stop him; bakugou's might is well known, but his attitude is also equally infamous, but even as he starts to ease up onto his knees again, he knows better than to interrupt. the glass divider slides open, and bakugou makes his demands; the wind from the highway whips around them, though with all of the bags of soil and carefully-packed pallets of potted plants, it helps mitigate the impact. stunned, the driver fumbles for his phone, but passes it back to bakugou while trying to maintain both speed and accuracy.

peering up onto one knee, as though to ensure that bakugou is still fine, he settles back only once he sees bakugou's got the phone in hand. )

We should go to the hospital, first. ( that's the only demand he'll make--and he's adamant about it, calling out over the sound of the cars around them, the sound of the truck bumping along down the road. ) For your shoulder.

( it's not so much that he's being obedient: sure, bakugou told him to lay down, but he's instead sat himself up against a few stacked boxes of seed packets, one arm clutched around his chest, the other loose in his lap. a little bit of dirt bubbles and trickles down off one of the other pallets; when it lands in his hair, he hardly notices, giving an almost feline shake of his head to dust it off. )

That's where we're going. They can meet us there. ( he's still calmly saying all this out to bakugou, despite him being on the phone already--it's his own little brand of stubbornness, and maybe selfishness, in a way; there will be plenty of time to make a report, but he wants bakugou looked after, first. )

[blastedass]

[he never would have told todoroki to jump if he didn't believe he could make it. nothing but a goddamn ice maker when he started at u.a., literally frozen in his hateful mindset. until midoriya broke him out of it and ignited his flames under his own desire. he watched him from there, never forgetting that shitty finals match, as if the sight of todoroki improving his quirk somehow made a paltry consolation prize of what he should've been battling. not some troubled boy operating at crap output. from massive gouts of flame to struggling fine control, a single foot bearing the weight and balance of his entire body during flight. oh he was smug as fuck when todoroki crashed a few times, even taunted him for failing where the blonde had already succeeded so spectacularly before him. but every time that handsome serious face displayed resolve he found himself admiring. it's that admiration which told him to jump and not look back. todoroki would make it and they'd be fine.

growling a quick assurance the driver's not in trouble, he slams the window shut and stalks back into the little truck bed greenhouse his boyfriend remains crouched within. greenery flaps around them through the wind, tousling todoroki's two-toned hair in its stupidly photogenic whips. nary a damn tangle. finally feeling safe enough to breathe, he pours himself onto his ass beside his partner and drops his back against the pallet. adrenaline and tourniquet make a hell of a pain stop despite the bloody injury. dried blood by now, no further wet thanks to todoroki's attention earlier.]

The nearest one is twenty minutes away. [leaning in close to talk over the wind and stay sheltered, he tilts a cupped hand holding the phone so his boyfriend can look it over. colored lines snake across its map display, one blood-stained finger indicating the highway rumbling beneath the wheels. he's not dissuading todoroki's stubborn demand. hospital's fine. they have phones, a police station nearby, and medics to inspect the other hero's busted ribs.

oy! the fuck?! tension flares in his chest, heart leaping thanks to someone's sudden violent head shaking. only realizing a second later it's due to the dirt. tch, that's kinda cute. he reaches and whaps a hand against the offending sod sack, sealing a tiny pinhole leak so no more mess leaks onto todoroki's head. doesn't need him dirtier than he already is. shoulder to shoulder, he texts their new destination to the police contact from earlier, as well as texting midoriya, iida, and yaoyorozu for the best result of communicating with their classmates. probably blaring out on the fucking news already.] All right. Everyone knows.

[enough to relay to the rest meaning "everyone" now. bakugou has to make a quick trip back to the truck cab and return the phone, as well as instruct the driver on the hospital location and which exit to take. then returns to finally rest against his boyfriend's side, eyes lidding and exhaustion rearing its ugly head.] Brave bastard...

[hairsplit]

( the thought of what remains in front of them is almost too much: having to explain himself to midoriya is one thing, promising and apologizing for putting his close friend in trouble, and having to fend off the worry from iida, yaoyorozu, and the rest of their classmates is something else entirely. it's even possible that the rest of them could become easy targets, thus creating another problem on top of all the problem they're dealing with lately--he can only imagine the sort of headache that they're going to cause aizawa-sensei, too, especially given that this all started thanks to being somewhere that they probably shouldn't have been, to begin with. of course, looming over all of that is the idea of endeavor's rage and desperation, the way that he's sure his father is going to crush him into his chest and threaten to break another two ribs with the effort behind it--his eyes close for a moment, a tired sigh moving past his lips, but he can't deny it, just as bakugou said earlier. all they can do is face what's coming next.

he doesn't move, letting bakugou settle against him, and when he sees bakugou's eyes lidding, threatening to close, he stays quiet; still and sure, he squares his shoulders against the crates behind him, letting his boyfriend have a moment of rest as they head towards the hospital. it doesn't really take that long, when it comes down to it--or maybe he himself had blacked out for a few moments there, lost in the comfort of the wind whipping around them, the quiet sounds of cars around them on the highway. it's only once the truck comes to a stop, and the driver lurches out to come around to open the back of the trunk bed, that he forces himself up, letting bakugou rest there as he climbs out--he offers the driver his thanks and apologies, assuring him that they'll offer him some restitution for clamoring into his truck and losing him that tiny bit of soil; it seems only proper. then it's a blur of medical staff that comes next to retrieve bakugou from the back of the truck--he argues, adamantly, that he can walk himself inside, and instead demands focus be put on bakugou's injuries; it hurts to be separated, hurts to see bakugou being carted away inside, but he knows he can't make any silly demands, here.

this is what he wanted, and when he walks inside with the help of two other medics, he can already hear endeavor's voice in the lobby of the emergency room, arguing with one of the staff at the desk. guess he'd gotten there pretty quick after all--for now, however, he knows the staff will be too busy processing the two of them to let anyone else inside, which is honestly a relief. he hasn't decided how to explain anything to his father, just yet.

that may be the reason, in the end, that he's creeping into bakugou's room a few hours later, once he's been examined, given painkillers, and washed up; the doctor wants to keep them both for observation, though there's little to be done about the broken ribs except ice and rest, and the rest of the cuts and bruises will heal on their own. it's more bakugou that he thinks everyone is rightfully concerned with: and he's concerned most of all, gently creaking the hospital door open so that he can slide himself in as silently as possible. endeavor had been both furious and worried sick--to say nothing of the way bakugou's mother had been, swearing up and down that she'd find the people that did this in a flurry of expletives that even he had never heard before. for now, they've been cleared of visitors thanks to the late hour: which means that it's just bakugou in the room, as he creeps towards the empty chair near the end of his hospital bed, trying not to wake him if he's asleep.

when he eases down into it, it's slow, a wheezing breath as he tries not to dislodge the pack of ice he's got held against his side--immediately his gaze goes to bakugou, as though if he doesn't watch him in the bed, then he might not be there when he looks again. sure, their parents and even aizawa-sensei might be fiercely protective, but he thinks that his sharp desire to keep bakugou safe might even rival theirs; once he's contented that bakugou is still there, beneath the thin hospital sheets, he settles, slouching slightly in the chair to get more comfortable. )

[blastedass]

[contrary to todoroki's worrying, he buzzes in irritation over the bullshit they're going to deal with. his classmates are gonna be clingy as fuck, shouting at him for making them worried, endlessly hounding him with questions about his "injuries" and struggles, treating him like a fucking invalid when it's just a goddamn flesh wound on the arm! how long are they gonna want him to stay in that wretched hospital bed? he took worse with shigaraki turning him into a fucking shish kebab! then that annoying hag from home, getting on his case because he got kidnapped again like it's some stupid annual tradition now. gonna blame it on him for being weak or distracted and beat his skull in until he yells at her. like that'll change anything. on top of all that, they're gonna have to fill out a report. give a reason for why they were at the place they were. yeah, it started as a stakeout, they only went in there to track down their target, it's not like they needed to spend the night and fuck like a pair of wild rabbits. ugh, that's the worst part approaching out of all this. maybe he can at least shortchange endeavor's shitty bear hug.

last thought. he's left behind everything else until a metallic clank breaks through his mind. red eyes flicker open, one arm instinctively flashing to the side and crossing todoroki's chest with his hand aimed towards the noise source. protective and defensive all in one without even being fully awake. only to quickly blink out of slumber and focus on the world round them once more. right. truck, trip, hospital, police call, kidnappers, rushing back in and plunging into his brain with a might splash. damn you, half-n-half, for having such a comfortable shoulder! put a spike on that thing so he doesn't get tempted to use it as his pillow! grumbling, he permits todoroki to move first, only after assuring himself it's only the trucker. he makes to get up, but finds both legs refusing to move. fuck... he didn't lose that much blood, did he? a glance at his bandages suggest he, in fact, might have. crawling after his partner isn't even an option with only one working arm. left sitting in the truck bed, half-slumped as he is, he glares daggers at the man and his boyfriend, daring anything to go wrong until the medics arrive and his world turns into a hospital television drama. god he hates this stupid place...

hours later, he's once again in the damn white sheets and teal smock. wouldn't be surprised if it's the same shitty pair from his last trip to the hospital (never mind this one's hundreds of fucking miles away from that one). an iv remains in his arm, hooked to the nearby drip bag. blood transfusion at least took place already while he was out. proper medical attention given to the bullet wound. given it passed though muscle only and not bone, he'll be fine. recovery girl is making her trip here, though won't be arriving until tomorrow. her help should mend todoroki's ribs and impact-shocked organs, as well as fill in the torn muscles in the other hero's arm. for now, patch up and rest is the dosage prescribed. though there's additional concern about the drug used to mute their quirks for the time. both had their blood drawn to start working out answers on the cancellation front. chisaki might be imprisoned, but his work remains at large. all these thoughts swim round n his head before a gentle click of door lock and knob snap him from his mental filing. what, did todoroki really think he'd be asleep after that fucking tirade his mother went on?! they two were yelling a while ago, mother's tough love versus son's petulant recoiling. he's glad the room's quiet now.

red eyes follow his boyfriend across the room, noting his stiff movements, the ice pack on his side, and a bandage n his cheek. looks like he got his own stupid once over. hospital mint green isn't his color. once again, bandages cover the blonde hero's arm, this time avoiding his shoulder and instead focused on his upper arm. who knows if it'll scar since the wound was surprisingly clean. probably will. that's the nature of heroes and injuries. scars mean you were strong enough to live through it. only after todoroki's gotten his ass settled in the chair does he move his good arm and reach out to let it hover over the edge of the bed, fingers opening towards his boyfriend.]

Should've moved that over here. [can't well hold his hand from the foot of his bed now can you, icyhot?]

[hairsplit]

( it's almost like he's in a daze; bakugou speaks and he nearly startles, shoulders going stiff--which doesn't work well for the ice pack, clutched to his side, a soft twinge of pain that rockets up him with the movement. he'd offered to just use his hands, but they hadn't wanted either of them to waste energy using their quirks, especially if there's any kind of lasting damage from the whole ordeal. maybe that had been why endeavor had been so outraged and worried: he tries not to let those sorts of angry thoughts flood him, but he can't help it. sometimes they leak out: like maybe his father only cared enough to see that his perfect masterpiece could still use the quirk he had painstakingly designed for him.

none of that matters, now. his gaze slides, to where bakugou's good arm slides over the edge of the bed--and he stares at it for a moment, considering, like it's a puzzle he's trying to work out.

right. he wants to hold hands. that's right, isn't it? with a soft duck of his chin, he skids himself out of the chair, reaching with one arm to slowly screech it across the floor; it ends up nestled right next to the bed, and carefully, he sinks himself back down into it, tucking his knees together since he's given himself a distinct lack of space in order to get as close as possible. his hands shift; the new one holds the ice pack to his own side, gently, while the other lifts, cold, to calmly fold bakugou's hand into his. )

Do you need water? Painkillers? A sweater?

( solemnly, his gaze lifts back up to bakugou's face, as though trying to work out how he feels just by looking at him. it would be easy to call a nurse, though she'd likely tell him to go back to his own bed: and he would, if only to return a few minutes later. he doesn't want to stand in the way of anything bakugou needs.

cold fingers slide, gently, working their way between bakugou's knuckles, clutching his hand a little more firmly. )

You really worked yourself up. ( the shouting match with his mother, he means. a part of him had been almost impressed. ) It sounded intense. I apologized to your mother, but I'll do it again...properly.

[blastedass]

[jumpy. he could have stayed quiet, let todoroki think he was sleeping and given him a peaceful route to his own rest. but also leave him wrangling with his own worry and loneliness. tension lines his shoulders, a muted startle on his face with brows lifting ever so slightly, eyelids widening on his mismatched irises, lips set in a gentle press. barest of responses across his usually glacier calm visage. normally, emotion on todoroki's face is something to enjoy. now, nothing positive comes. he wants to see him placid and comfortable, without the damn lines of concern and stuffed panic under his skin. knowing he's the origin for much of those strains. if he'd been stronger, faster, smarter, better, none of this would've happened, and todoroki would be in his bed tonight, sleeping peacefully.

tch, he'll deal with his guilt later. cool sheets ghost beneath his forearm as he slides it from his side to the mattress' edge, hand hovering over empty space in an offering for todoroki to take. that's what a hero does, right? reaching out to anyone who needs a helping hand. even other heroes. albeit, he's not the nicest hero and ends up clicking his tongue in annoyance when the other boy doesn't seem to "get it" for a few seconds. seriously?]

Oy. Don't make me wait. [he's not hovering his damn hand over empty space for his health. only to bristle instantly as nails rake through his earn and send his hair spiking up even more all over his head.] Dammit! You're so loud! Pick it up first! [bastard's dragging it cross the floor and summoning scrapes and screeches from a fucking four-legged banshee! he's making a damn cacophony in the hospital room! todoroki finally kills it with a plunk beside his bed, cushion huffing a sigh as he sinks down within the frame. mattaku...

cool skin settles on his own, fingers across the hell of his palm before folding over the sides as their palm meld together in a perpendicular embrace. for several seconds, he lingers on the sensation. noting so many things about todoroki's touch. his hand's large, taking his own in matching grip. fingers slender and strong, knuckles rolling under his fair skin as lithe bones flutter on the back of his hand. calloused from work, yet comforting and gentle. a hero's hands, taking so many actions today over his safety. regardless of his own...]

Stop fretting, Half-and-Half. The doctors already did their shit. [red eyes meet teal and slate, holding them with a firm reprimand in their heated depths. no pain, no struggle, only a quiet comfort he takes with his boyfriend beside him. there's nothing he needs right now. water, done. meds, taken. checkup, finished. the last on the list, rest, is gonna happen as soon as he gets this fretting dork settled. fingertips sift into the valleys of his knuckles, smoothing down the back of his hand as their fingers link together. he folds his own over todoroki's clasp, fitted perfectly between his knuckles, tips brushing over his skin.]

Tch. She came in here yelling like a monster. I just told her to shut the fuck up. [hah, as if. he said a lot more, which only set her off again. typical scene between them, given the expression on his father's face.] Don't. You don't have anything to apologize for.

[hairsplit]

I'm not fretting.

( he says it so stubbornly that it's almost too obvious that it's something of a lie; even he can recognize that, as his lips close together, not quite a sulk but not quite a frown, either. instead, he lets his gaze go around the room, just once, as though reassuring everything is the way it should be: beyond the door, it's quiet, there's nothing suspicious anywhere, nothing that he should be concerned about. the machines are all working the way they should, and bakugou's here, being bakugou, so there's little to be worrying about there. is it just that he's still stuck in that place? having to argue with endeavor always puts him into a certain mood, and his instincts are to shut down, wall up, express himself in icy sentences; his free hand lifts, even though he knows he should continue diligently holding the ice pack, combing a few cold fingers in through his bangs just to give the excuse of doing something.

it's not that he doubts him. it's not that he thinks bakugou is lying to him, because he's not that type of person at all. but it's hard to settle in as though things will be okay; it's hard to just brush it off when a part of him still feels the exhausted exhilaration of stress and anxiety, being where they were. it's not needed, now, and yet his body still feels like it has to be there, tense and ready to jump, to protect bakugou--who doesn't even need his protecting in the first place, really. he's not weak. he's definitely not weak, not after everything he saw today, too. but it's like having the threat of something precious, something that he never thought he'd have to begin with, getting taken away--

his hand slides back down, firmly shaking his head. )

No. It's proper. I put you in a situation that wasn't right, for the sake of...

( he doesn't know how to articulate it. how can he say we got into this mess because i wanted to take advantage of being at a love hotel with you that doesn't end up sounding so trite and disgusting? his gaze slides down to their hands, where he gives bakugou's fingers a gentle squeeze. )

...You know. She didn't seem upset with me, but I'd still like to apologize properly.

( at least send her something small, which won't be a problem for him. if anything, he's sure that both parents have likely been talking to each other outside their rooms anyway.

when his gaze lifts, it's to study bakugou's shoulder--and then blink over to his face, trying for a faint smile. )

You were a good hero. I'm impressed. ( he's trying to lighten his own sullen mood--but the words he comes up with almost make him want to laugh, a tease that's so obvious and silly that it almost breaks his own personal tension. ) Let's team up again soon.

[blastedass]

Yes you are! [don't talk to him in that stubborn tone! it admits he's doing exactly what he was just accused of! brat. he should be the one fussing at todoroki! who let the guy out of his bed and allowed him to walk all the way to his room without catching his ass and putting it back in the bed?! does he wanna puncture a fucking lung or put more stress on his were-they-broken-or-just-fractured ribs?! someone's gonna fucking die once he finds out who didn't strap this half-n-half bastard to his bed and make sure he stayed there. even if the old bag of bones came by to smooch him back to better health. did she? given the bandages, not yet. tch. now he's here, in his room, looking around the place like some shitty villain's gonna jump out of a shadowed corner and grab them. way to keep your heart rate down and stay calm during recovery, icyhot. all these gripes and snarls running through his mind as he lies in bed and glares daggers at todoroki without saying anything. right, after bitching out with his father, the other boy's never been best company. even he gets huffy (putting it lightly) on the tail end of an argument with his mom.

of course it's not easy to settle down! they were kidnapped, drugged and dragged to another location in attempt to do fucking something with them! sounded like some kind of thought went into their capture more than petty ransom holding. if their quirks hadn't been muted, they could've brought the place down and been the ones dragging those shitty bastards to the police instead of the police coming to them. he's far too aware of todoroki's feelings right now. a lingering crawl up the nape, wondering if their current area's safe. if they aren't being watched. a human's bubble of safety once popped is hard to repair again without scars. ever alert, ever ready for someone to jump out and grab again. he's been there, faced it, beaten it down, but never completely rid himself of it. and now he has to deal with the other side of that trauma... not his own capture, but someone close to him. was this how midoriya felt after the forest training camp? a roaring frustrating building up inside, flagellating himself with all the "if only" and "what if" scenarios playing out in his mind? a heavy onus if "my fault" crushes at his shoulders and he snarls trying to buck the shit off.]

Haa?! Like hell you did! If I didn't want to be in there with you, I would've said no, you dumbass! [as much as he hates sharing his victories with others (albeit, gotten better about it), he despises someone blaming themselves for a mistake or problem he caused. he's not some fucking coward who hides behind another person or blames the onus of his own mistakes on someone else. so hell with letting todoroki take the fall for their own bad decision. cue crushing the other boy's hand in his fist, definitely enough to "hurt" and snap him out of his glum wallowing.] We both decided.

[shut up brain! there was no way they could've predicted the room was set up as an additional trap! hell, he can't say it was trap designed for them specifically, as they came there following a lead and decided to stake out instead of giving up and leaving. maybe it was an elaborate ruse, but... tch, he's not gonna live a paranoid life.]

Ajisai. [hydrangea. if he must.] She's gonna tell you the same thing. [that it wasn't his fault, that it's okay, that katsuki's fine now and he should've been more alert. all heroes risk this; they knew such when choosing their path in life. he doesn't wanna think about his parents talking with todoroki's outside. who the hell knows what they're saying about them? probably getting along so fucking well right now. he turns his head and directs his glare to the door. hmph.]

"GOOD"?! I'm an awesome hero, Half-n-Half Bastard!! [and now his attention swings back to todoroki, all teeth and fiery eyes yelling at him. he pauses at seeing his face lit up with a silly little smile, knowing it's both true and false. trying to cover up how he's really feeling inside... tense as a wire.] Tch! Ask me whenever you want. I'll do even better than you.

[he eases his grip on todoroki's hand, thumb brushing along his knuckles to comfort him.]

[hairsplit]

( it's in moments like these that he's reminded of how stubborn they both are; he won't try to say that he isn't, although any comparison that someone draws between him and his father tends to land on a cool expression, an icy gaze, and a hardened heart. he can't live the rest of his life thinking that he's so entirely different--just as he can't live the rest of his life thinking that he's so entirely the same. he may be his son, and he may have grown up sequestered only only endeavor's upbringing, for most of his childhood, but that doesn't mean that he has to be him, or that he has to be the thing that endeavor wanted him to be, either. he has a choice in the matter: a choice that midoriya, of all people, made apparent to him. it's times like these, too, that he wonders if midoriya would be a better buffer between the two of them--they're likely going to keep going back and forth about blame and fault and guilt for awhile.

right. he needs to apologize to midoriya, too, and he doesn't think that flowers are going to cut it. this is the second time that bakugou's been spirited away by someone else; that sort of wound cuts deep, even if this time, no one else is responsible for it but him. bakugou might be arguing and saying that it's a shared responsibility, but he's too stubbornly attached to his own blame to allow his boyfriend to take any part of it.

so he sits there for a moment, smile melting down into a stone-faced frown, and doesn't refute it--but doesn't agree, either. in the battle of stubborn wills, sometimes he and bakugou are quite evenly matched. )

Mm. ( a soft nod of agreement, of indication, about the flowers; he can do that easily. ) Then...

( his hand feels a little limp in bakugou's grip; not because he doesn't want to hold onto him, but because a part of him likes it like this, likes letting bakugou take the reins and squeeze or brush or thread their fingers together how he wants it. he doesn't want to get in the way. )

Let's team up now. ( a ghost of that smile returns, only briefly, but his free hand adjusts the ice pack and then, after a moment, reaches slowly so that he can set it on the small table at bakugou's bedside. ) Our mission is to get you back to sleep.

( a slight glance, mismatched gaze focused on bakugou's face, but he's gently freeing his hand from the other's grip so that he can plant his palms on the bed and slowly, carefully, push himself up onto his feet. )

I'll warm you up.

[blastedass]

[he wants the guy who took the entire burden of the league of villains, all for one, shigaraki, and the upcoming war on his shoulders, abandoned the school and friends who supported him for almost a year of his life, sneaked out like a damn coward, left behind personal tell-all notes he couldn't even deliver himself, and then skulked about the country by himself in an ever-degrading state attempting to hold together the snapping seams of society and stop everything bad from happening, all because he thought it was his responsibility alone and couldn't bear the guilt of endangering his friends with his mission... todoroki wants that guy to intercede between them about which of them shares the heavier onus of blame and fault in their shitty kidnapping? what a fucking joke. midoriya would somehow find a way to feel guilty about his classmates being captured in the first place and heap it on his own head like a punishment glutton. they don't need his interjections to handle this. they can work it out on their own.

they'll need to work it out inside themselves too. shame and fury bubble inside him far down at the moment, ready and willing an ascent once he has more clear room to vent his ire. how the hell could he get kidnapped again?! and with one of his strongest classmates at that?! he should've seen the risks, should've stopped them both from indulging, should've contacted someone and made sure they had another set of eyes watching them! so many "should've" ideas swarming about his mind and feasting on his budding regrets. like hell is he gonna let todoroki take the blame.

too stubborn and proud and kind to let such a failure go without debt. yes, they escaped, but they hadn't stopped the person coming after them, hardly had information to give save for descriptions of appearances and the location of the warehouse. (and the love hotel they got captured from. fucking embarrassing mentioning that.) todoroki isn't backing down and neither is he. they both know that.]

Haa? I can go to sleep on my own! [dammit, he would've been asleep if someone hadn't come into his room and sat down to stare at him until a conversation prompted! yet he isn't letting go, fingers remaining curled around a strong hand, thumb tracing between bony mounds of knuckles and along slender tendons tracing the back of his hand. full rein to do as he pleases with the touches. because he demanded todoroki bring himself closer earlier. for this reason.

doesn't mean he's agreeing with someone's plan to team up for sleep, dammit! he clicks his tongue in annoyance as his ice pack slides away, too proud to say thanks because the damn thing was starting to turn his skin numb. as fingers drift out of his hand and the taller boy braces his hands on the bed in preparation, he eyes him with a wary gaze, lips pursed to the side in slight miff. really? he thinks it's a good idea to join him in a fucking hospital bed? ... hmph, not like he has a serious injury. a bullet wound through the arm is nothing compared to getting skewered in the guts.] Stay on my left side.

[they're gonna get yelled at by the nurse later.]

[hairsplit]

( the hesitation there is only for a moment--it's been a long time since he's worried about bakugou's truthful rejection, and it's been so long since they first messed around like this that a part of him forgets what it felt like to wonder. to be so entirely entranced by another person, to fall so stupidly into feelings for him that he could hardly bring himself to consider any alternative, to be afraid that in the end, he might end up alone, forced to contend with feelings and desires and wants that he's never felt before. despite bakugou's attitude and his sharp words and his sometimes blunt delivery, he doesn't think that bakugou would have been cruel about it: but even so, the thought of losing something so precious is a terrifying little thing, and even now, from time to time, he wonders if he's holding on too hard, if he's being good enough, if he's doing anything that might even make bakugou consider any alternative.

it's a stupid idea. he should be good, and go back to his room, but a part of him hates leaving things like this--hates leaving things with a war of stubborn wills, rather than anything else, and even if he can see bakugou, and feel his hand, and listen to the aggravated grumble of his voice, there's something else entirely different about touching him up close, laying his head in the crook of his neck, listening to him swallow and breathe.

he's in a little too deep, here. he knew it before all this, before risking his life, before going boneless in the bath at the love hotel, before their date, before any of it. but rather than drag himself out of it, or pull away, the way that he thinks he's been taught to do--the way that endeavor would likely instruct him to do--he forces himself past the little trickle of fear. forces his hands to shift on the bed, instead of retreat: forces himself to gently, carefully, walk his way onto the bed on hands and knees, careful to shift over to bakugou's left side as instructed.

the bed sinks a little, with his added weight, and his ribs ache--he forces himself to take in a slow breath, measured, as he settles himself in onto his good side, trying to take up as little space as possible while also inching himself in against bakugou's side as much as he can manage. )

...Don't say things like that. ( he decides to finally say, matter-of-fact, as his mismatched gaze rounds up on bakugou's profile; his lips purse together, like he's scolding him a little, gently, and his closest arm lifts up so that he can reach for bakugou's cheek, pinching it playfully between thumb and index finger. )

I don't want you to be able to go to sleep on your own all the time.

( i want you to need me, a little. )

[blastedass]

[how long's it been since he kicked over the table beneath todoroki's arms, shouted in his face for daring to think of anything other than him in their upcoming match? ever since he saw the guy, he pissed him off, erupted a vein-pulsing indignation inside him. for the first time in his life, someone walked in threatening to be his equal. looks, brains, power, drive. it was different than midoriya's looming shadow he always felt was so far beyond him. a rising fire blazing open beside him from nowhere, threatening to wipe out all his progress in one icy swipe. he hated him. because for a moment, he looked at todoroki and despaired. then crushed his own feelings in rage. one interaction after another clawed his way to equal footing again, running alongside his one-sided rival as he snarked orders, yelling his name in concern without thinking, smirking in satisfaction upon hearing of his victory. somewhere along his journey, hate became tolerance, tolerance became acceptance, acceptance to admiration, admiration to affection. the same he feels even now in a hospital bed, letting this dumbass break the "rules" of medical etiquette and climb into bed with him while he's sporting a fucking injury. if he's gone through all that, up to this very point... how the hell could todoroki continue to think he's able to consider any alternative? he left that moment behind him a long time ago. this man is his future. no matter how tightly he holds on, or what stupid thing he does to piss him off.

their fight settles in his chest, tension melts out his shoulders into his bed sheets. what a lie to himself at being alone. each time he closes his eyes, images come back. his boyfriend chained, a man he doesn't know touching him, some sicko looking at his hero with materialistic gaze, todoroki's expression wrenched in pain with each step as they ran. ran away. one memory after another takes a shot into his heart. until a hand settles on his own, a warm voice drifts into his ear, his presence burning away nightmare seeds. fuck the hospital rules.

it's dangerous for a hero to love, isn't it. opening his heart for someone else to plant a cord within his flesh and muscle, forever tethered and vulnerable. day after day, he risks his life, and by proxy, the happiness and safety of the man he loves. what can he say to todoroki's dripping face in the rain as he lies in a pool of blood? the same quiet words he spoke to him in a bath's warm embrace as they indulged in each other's bodies and pleasure? no... all logic slammed his heels into his brain when he realized what happened. called himself a stupid fool. run! avoid it! the strong have no weakness! what a moron, thinking of todoroki as his weakness. hands press to the bed, denting sheet material around his palms as the other hero climbs in beside him on all fours. this man gave him more strength, more reason to survive and live and win, than any weakness or threat he could ever face.]

Don't put weight on your bad side. [as if he forgot todoroki's nursing his own injuries. busted ribs, shoulder impact, each breath a conscious decision. he keeps his body still, one hand half-lifted in case he needs to catch or direct him as he situates. as much as he wants to tell him to lie on his back or front, someone's gotta be a stubborn butt and snuggle up to him on edge. only when he's settled close does he finally slip his arm around todoroki's shoulder and pull him close. chest to ribs, heads close enough to rest his own against soft mismatched hair. the scent of shampoo and medicine and something uniquely todoroki draws in with his breath. balming.]

Hmph. Saying that kinda crap while I'm injured. [as sappy as it is arousing. really should headbutt him for being such a pain in the ass out of nowher-] Ngh?! Oy!! [what the hell's with this cheek pinching bullshit?! he gets two or three good grips before he tugs his head to the side with a petulant snarl. is he some little old lady going after a preschooler?! he hikes his shoulder (wincing slightly, bad arm) and rubs his cheek into it aggressively. even embarrassed, he hears todoroki's underlying words, what he really means... bastard's gonna make his heart go too damn fast! and he's so close, of course he'll feel it, if not hear the stupid thing!] Then start looking for apartments.

[hairsplit]

( like always: it's in one ear and out the other. bakugou might scold him or bark instructions at him, but he knows what he's doing, or rather, knows what he's going to do, no matter who might tell him not to. at this point, he thinks he might even fight a nurse if he had to, just to stay here a little longer--he knows he won't be able to sleep here, permanently, that the nurses will do their rounds and he'll be shuttled off back to his bed with a gentle warning, but for now, there's nowhere else that he would rather be, or, more than that: nowhere else that he'll allow himself to be. he needs to be pressed up against bakugou's side, soaked into the shape of him, letting that distinct, sweet smell curl up into him like a soothing balm.

that cheek gets pulled away from his pinching, but that's fine. the punishment's been made, and more importantly, his point has been made, too. it's stupid to assert that bakugou might need anyone, stupid to demand that he need him, of all people, but that's what a relationship is about, isn't it? being able to accept that measure of weakness, being able to contend with it, being able to understand that there are risks just as much as there are benefits to the idea. oddly, despite all of his bad examples, he's never had a problem with that idea: endeavor might see his family as just an extension of his own ego, but he's never thought of it like that at all.

this situation proves it to him, too--they worked together. they wouldn't have made it this far otherwise.

still, bakugou's words surprise him, in the comfortable haze he's settled into, his cheek pressed softly over the top of bakugou's chest, tucked against him. in silence, he considers them; his tongue races out over his lips, as though trying to connect the dots.

finally, like always, he lifts his chin up, digs it into bakugou's chest to peer up at him: )

I should look for apartments? ( and then, a dash of disappointment: ) You want me out of the dorm?

( it hits him, there, only once the words are past his lips--and then he's pursing them together, embarrassed, a slight frown fit at the corners of his mouth for his own inadequacy. )

You mean an apartment together. For us. ...Together.

[blastedass]

[stubborn bastard. why'd he have to fall in love with someone as willing to move as a glacier? growl at him for wanting to sleep beside an injured boyfriend and those dual-colored eyes stare back at him without hearing a damn word. it'd be fun to watch shouto fight a nurse, but he's too tired to deal with that kind of noise. argue about it in the morning, when he growls at the matron to find a cot and bring it into his room. IF he even needs it. because he'll be doing his damnest to get out of the hospital tomorrow! these injuries are nothing compared to past wounds! fuck wasting away in a stupid bed. doctors prodding and coddling him. piss off, he knows what he can and can't do- OW! fuck! watch where you're putting that hand, half-n-half!] Are you trying to break my ribs?!

[barely a clunk, more a brush, and he's whisper snarling into his boyfriend's face while they settle under medical sheets and blankets. has to tug the entire thing up so those long ass legs can slot down within his own body-warmed wrap and put cold toes to his feet and ankles. che! letting shouto get away with too much. he nudges one leg aside, pushes at the cloth weight tucked so hard below the mattress on all corners, and hooks his ankle over his, gathering those lower legs into his own for a lazy tangle. better than pinching his stupid cheek.

lying on his good side, bad arm resting along his body's skyline, he takes in each facet of shouto's visage. how his bangs hand sideways from his pillow-propped head, broad shoulders taller than his own in this supine position, expression comfortable and bland as always. far better than his concerned frightened face shouting at him and staring worried at his blood. a hero always risks things... not only their own lives, but the people they love and care for. is it weakness or strength to have those bonds? shouto might not have gotten hurt if he hadn't tried to protect him. but that's also part of being a hero... my body, your shield. your love, my strength.

losing sight of his face, he rolls onto his back and lets shouto get comfortable on his chest, head resting atop his heart for each reassuring thud beneath his ribs. no, he's grown up. realized a long time ago people, while annoying, are strengths that come with weaknesses. weaknesses he has to contend with and protect. going back to pure solo... there's no going back to how he used to be. the future's together. fingers slowly drum along shouto's shoulder from where he's hooked his arm around his boyfriend's body, red eyes gazing up at the ceiling in half-lidded contemplation.]

Of course together! Do all that mental gymnastics in your head next time, dumbass. [sheesh! he didn't have to walk him through his stupor turned sadness turned contemplation turned realization. took him long enough to put it together. a wet curl behind his teeth and he clicks his tongue in annoyance tinged with taunting amusement.] Think you're strong enough to live with me?