codominant | @ pacifisting

@ pacifisting

[a few hasty bandaids over a profusely bleeding wound, that's probably all this is — but it stems the tide long enough for things to return to almost-normal by the time Monday rolls around. Todoroki has, as expected, recuperated from his hangover in the cool, dark, silent and blissful solitude in his room and sworn off consumption of clear Russian liquids for the foreseeable future, and seeing Midoriya in the morning is... well]

[they don't talk about it. and he doesn't want to. hopes to never, in fact, if he's allowed to have his way. there are a few times throughout the week he thinks he feels his gaze lingering on him a little too long, asking questions he doesn't have answers to (or doesn't want to), pushing his lunch around pensively as he thinks of a way to broach the topic when they're alone]

[in that, too, he gives him fewer opportunities for a while. Uraraka and Iida, oblivious as they are, make for pretty good buffers]

[...until he can't anymore, until there's blood leaking from his nose and his swollen, broken bottom lip, his back planted into the asphalt of an evacuated street by a giant's fist he wasn't fast enough to dodge, knocking the breath and the consciousness right out of him]

[when he comes to after the fight is over and Musutafu is, once again, safe, the only color he sees is — ]

Mi...dori...

[his voice is rough with pain or maybe screaming, a part of his body warm that usually isn't. is this... weight?]

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[Midoriya's used to having to put work in, to study, to get the results that he wants. Nothing comes automatically or easily, but if he tries hard enough he can usually cobble together an understanding of an issue and subsequently come up with a solution. Whatever is going on with Todoroki, though, isn't something he can plan or study away. There aren't any classes he can take or books he can read to suddenly be able to handle this situation with anything approaching grace. It's awkward and weird and while Uraraka and Iida know something is off, they don't push, which he's grateful for.

Rather than get addressed, everything goes back to what passes for normal for them and the weird, nebulous thing vanishes, shoved to the background. It's fine, Midoriya reasons. They've got their whole lives ahead of each other and while Midoriya's first attempt at addressing it went abysmally, there will be others. What's most important is they're still friends.

Friends, who get called to each other when something goes down in the city, friends who have to watch each other get tossed into the ground like a rag doll. Midoriya can hear the crack Todoroki's body makes when it connects with the ground just as he arrives, and he doesn't — he doesn't move. Logically, Midoriya knows they've been in tight situations before, but the realization that all of this was still not figured out and that there was a chance of Todoroki dying while things weren't okay between each other, well. It's unacceptable.

Everything after the battle passes in a rush; Midoriya's scraped and bruised and a little achy, but everyone else is the focus of the EMTs, including Todoroki. They give him a once-over and say it's not life-threatening, moving onto the more seriously injured. Midoriya gets it, sure, but there's a part of him that bristles angrily all the same, leftover adrenaline rolling through him like a storm. His hand finds Todoroki's own, holding it between both of his to keep it warm which means that when Todoroki finally wakes, he's the first to notice, leaning over him. ]

Don't move — [ Lightly, he squeezes Todoroki's hand, freckles standing out against the paleness of his cheeks in the light of the street lamps. ] You're okay, and the police have the villain.

[physical pain has been a friend to him since well before the one holding his hand. it makes sense to him, and its nuances are simple to navigate. touch-and-go, find out how to hold himself, push right past it as he sits up, warning unheeded, earning a shock of agony for his efforts that does little more than rankle mismatched brows]

[he's squeezing the hand in his more than he intends to, realizes it, and goes slack as if training his body out of wanting it. it feels sweaty and gritty, texture of those white gloves gripping him, folds in his lifelines; hair askew, tasting copper, his right eye trying to swell shut]

[a proper mess]

...I lost. [it's said with such plainness that it almost comes off as accepting, but there's disbelief in the roughness of his throat... was it because, yet again, he was distracted by problems that existed outside of the fight right in front of him? when is he going to conquer this?]

Sorry.

[ The EMTs stating that Todoroki isn't in any danger of dying is a relief, but that doesn't negate how he is injured. They all know that triaging means trying to help the most as fast as possible but Midoriya can't shake that flare of anger and defensiveness. Todoroki got injured trying to save them and now — ]

Don't— don't apologize.

[ The words sound like they're dragged out of him, awful and rough and ragged. Squeezing back Todoroki's hand just as sharply, Midoriya hunches over him with a shuddered out breath, relieved. If he's coherent enough to talk, he's going to be okay. ]

You did enough that the police could apprehend him without anyone else getting injured. You were amazing.

[ Trembling, ungloved fingers touch to the swell of Todoroki's eye, smoothing over the curve of his cheek distractedly. ]

We'll get a ride back to Recovery Girl and she'll fix you up.

[...really, Midoriya's an expressive and emotional person. his opposite: he cares readily, embraces his feelings, uses his empathy and compassion to make him stronger. to have it pointed at him shouldn't come as anything of a shock — ]

[but last time he reached out to him like this, it was in a language he understood better. violence, blows exchanged, self-sacrifice. it wasn't this soft, it wasn't worry lines and frowns and shaking fingers]

[he doesn't know what to do with this, and so he just stares as those fingers touch him, stinging in a way that has nothing to do with the bruise beginning to blue beneath them]

Okay.

[something else hangs in the air, and his throat visibly constricts around a hard swallow, mouth parting to try and parse it]

...Don't let me sleep in the infirmary. [hospitals? not his favorite place, still]

[ He allows himself one moment of weakness, one moment of being hunched over Todoroki with worry like a second skin settling over him, and then he squeezes Todoroki's hand tightly and releases. There's still work to do, namely, getting Todoroki out of here and he can do that. ]

I figured you wouldn't want to go to the hospital.

[ There's no real amusement in his voice, just exhaustion. A little more discomfort in order to be taken back somewhere familiar rather than the cold, clinical hospital was the right choice, then. A few moments later, they get Todoroki loaded up onto the stretcher; Uraraka arrives to make him lighter, so minimal jostling occurs and soon enough they're in the car on the way back to the dorms, which Midoriya is firm on. Settling on the seat next to the stretcher, Midoriya keeps glancing over at him like he's making sure Todoroki's still awake, still with him. Quietly, like a confession: ]

I'm really...really glad you're alright.

Edited 2018-10-12 21:06 (UTC)

[it's too much ritual for him, really, but Uraraka's insistence on not letting him walk it off strikes warm and he acquiesces. likewise, Recovery Girl's kiss leaves him feeling scuffed and ragged, but less swollen, less aching, the rigor of agony in his back gone loose and wilted]

[not perfect, but it's enough. there's a clipboard with his information and she'll probably return to check on him again before releasing him into his own care — into Midoriya's care, probably]

[for now, there's just the wait, and the silence, his breathing, the quiet blips of a vitals monitor he's hooked up to — ]

[how it jumps with his sudden heart rate spike as Midoriya speaks, exposing him, and how he immediately wants to ram sharp daggers of ice through it no matter how much stamina the quick healing had drained him of]

Sorry. [again, but more importantly,] For making you worry.

[ Any time Recovery Girl works on him (admittedly less these days but still decently often) it feels like he's been hit by a different kind of truck, this one carrying approximately thirty tons of pure exhaustion. How Todoroki's still conscious is impressive, but then, he supposes he is ridiculously stubborn.

The heart rate jump makes Midoriya flinch like it's a personal attack; he glances from the monitor to Todoroki, and then to the nurse in the van with them, but she doesn't seem concerned so he swallows again and laughs wetly. ]

Stop. It's alright. [ The seatbelt presses against his chest uncomfortably as he leans against it, trying to be as close as humanly possible until the van rolls to a stop. ] I can — if you don't mind, I can carry you to your room. Or we can wait for Uraraka to get here with her quirk.

I can walk. Don't punish my pride even worse, Midoriya...

[it's one thing to roll up to UA already battered; it'd be another to do it in the arms of someone else or to be floated up the damn stairs, even if his room's on the fifth floor]

But maybe we'll take the elevator.

[for the proximity, well... the brushes don't hurt, but excluding one very liquor-emboldened smashing of mouths, that's just another language he doesn't know. the trust is there that he doesn't pull away and reject it outright, but all of the acceptance of it comes from forced sedation]

[outside the gates, Todoroki stumbles from the van with a hand on the door to hold himself up and stares the dorms down... he likes this challenge more than the one that's been fretting over him for a whole car ride, and begins his slow undertaking tired but willfull]

[ Midoriya wants to fight but knows that it's not a battle he can expect to win, so he nods once and resigns himself to being at his side the whole way up to his room. It takes everything in him not to wind an arm around Todoroki's waist to half-carry him up there all the same. Instead, it's slow going, but Midoriya understands pride well enough that he doesn't argue the point.

By the time they make it inside, it's dead quiet inside the dorms, with everyone else fast asleep. Midoriya's suit is sticking uncomfortably to him from sweat, but it's bearable given everything else. Once Todoroki's door is open, he lingers in the doorway, uncertain.

Asking do you need help isn't the right way to go about this but similarly, he's not sure what to do to help him without it being overbearing. ]

What do you need?

[sleep. a shower. food, probably. the pragmatic answers are the ones that come to him first, rote and without empathy, teachings of his childhood that mean a small presence anywhere outside of the arena. the new lessons follow after as he turns to look at Midoriya, take in an face he thinks (but isn't sure) might've teared up for him sometime within the past hour or two, and knows none of the answers he's conjured are what he's seeking]

[so he considers it for another few heartbeats (and thank god he's unhooked from that machine), glancing back at his room. the tatami and shoji, the plants and futon — ]

Do you wanna stay?

[there's room enough for two]

[he can't promise a long and meaningful conversation, nor to consider his own needs, but mollifying Midoriya he can at least manage no matter how tired he is]

I can.

[ It's an answer without being an answer. Desperately, he wants to stay, wants to reassure himself that Todoroki's going to be alright, that the last he sees of him won't be that awful image of him crushed against the pavement, too still. Slowly, he closes the door behind him and leans back against it, toeing his shoes off. ]

Are you hungry or thirsty? I can see if there are any leftovers in the kitchen.

[ He's not sure whose turn it was to cook tonight, but there's always something in there and Midoriya's fingers itch with the need to do something. ]

Or I can start a bath. [ A pause, glancing to the bathroom. Todoroki did the remodeling of his room, sure, but Midoriya isn't sure if there is a bath or not. ]

[action-oriented as usual. Todoroki's never been able to tell if it stems from naturally high energy or anxiety but then he never cared to make guesses when it wasn't an inconvenience, even if it doesn't seem like their energies should mesh with how mellow he... usually is]

[with bags under his eyes and his voice dragging with exhaustion, it's only worsened]

Bath. Then a snack, maybe.

[he wants sleep, but he can't climb into his bed this filthy... he fights the lethargy to unbuckle his vest, shedding it into a pile on the floor and quickly joined by his wrist braces; when he unzips the front of his jacket, a glance down admonishes skin not yet healed, red with aggravation, but a few bruises is nothing compared to what Recovery Girl saved him from]

[there's no regard for propriety in how he starts peeling the rest of his costume off, whether or not Midoriya immediately takes to the task given him]

[ Midoriya would absolutely make sure his laundry is done if he wanted to just...go straight to bed, but he also understands the desire to be clean after a fight. Tugging off his gloves, he piles up everything extra near the door and lingers awkwardly with his hands at the ready in case Todoroki keels over like he's afraid of. He seems steady enough, though, so he ducks into the bathroom and fiddles with the handles until he figures it out, plugging it, turning the water to hot and letting it fill bit by bit.

The nudity doesn't bother him, nor is it particularly appealing; Todoroki's always been attractive, but between the exhaustion and worry it doesn't do anything for him. There's no blushing, no stammering when he comes out to Todoroki stripping, which is a bit of a blessing. ]

Water's running. Anything you don't want to eat?

[ This, he can do. If he knows what the next steps are, he can make sure he takes them, make sure that he's doing everything possible to help rather than standing there feeling useless with a problem he can't kick to pieces. ]

Nothing hard.

[he doesn't explain it, the way it just sounds annoying to deal with when he can tell as he shifts and speaks that his jaw is still somewhat sore from a blow or two, a tenderness he'd rather avoid]

[feet drag as he crosses the room slow, drawn by the humidity and warmth — and cleanliness, probably. there's blood dried and crusted on top of wounds that were forced to close and it's making him itch]

Pudding, maybe? Miso...

[the sound he lets out when he pads into the bathroom and sinks down is soft but blissful, a sigh dragged out of the very marrow in his bones]

[a beat, and he calls out — ]

Okayu!

[ Nothing hard, which means something he can put in a container, probably with a straw if they don't want to deal with silverware. Maybe Asui has jello cups squirreled away in the back of the fridge, still.

On auto-pilot, Midoriya shoves his feet back into his shoes and rolls his eyes to the ceiling so he doesn't accidentally see anything, all the same. He knows the moment Todoroki sinks in, though, and it's a wonder how it's warm, all the way out here in Todoroki's room. ]

I'll be back soon. Please don't fall asleep and drown.

[ Today has been a lot.

True to his word, he is back remarkably fast: okayu in a massive coffee mug outfitted with a spoon and a straw, pudding cup in a pocket and over his shoulder, a fresh from the dryer towel. The door closes behind him, he settles the meal off to the side and stands near enough to the door that Todoroki can hear him but not so that he can see in. The towel is settled on the countertop courtesy of Midoriya's visible hand and wrist, which vanishes once he sets it down. Just a moment later, he sinks down heavily, head resting against the wall. ]

I brought pudding, too, if you want something cold afterward. Better than hospital jello.

[fall asleep he does but drown he does not. a chubby cheek winds up planted on his knee as he hugs himself low in the water and that's how he rests, warm and tired and only half clean. even with the minimal scrubbing he'd done, the water is murky and tinged ruddy with blood and dirt and it's the first thing he sees when groggy eyes open back up as he hears the door click]

Thanks. [how long was he out? long enough to make rice porridge anyway, and the water's several degrees cooler than it was when he got in. pulling the plug to let it drain, he watches stoically until there's just a trail of grit between himself and the drain, fighting a sluggish mind for something to say...]

[instead, he runs a shower and washes his hair and rinses himself off, seeking the towel when he's finished and eventually draping it around his hips. there's a smaller one in his hand when he stands next to Midoriya again, offering it out to him]

Dry my hair? [he's trying...]

[ Thanks is a good enough sign that he's alright. Midoriya relaxes a little against the wall as he listens to water beat down, not quite dozing but getting dangerously close with how long the day's been and how much has happened. It's when the water turns off that he shakes himself out of it and rises up to unsteady feet again.

He thought- well, he doesn't know what he thought, it doesn't matter, because abruptly Todoroki is standing there towel-clad and not much else but residual water droplets. Midoriya's mouth goes absurdly dry a moment until he shakes himself out of it and takes the smaller towel.

Drying hair he can do. That's easy. Midoriya it and reaches over to settle it onto his head. The position with their minor height difference means that he's looking up into Todorki's face, gently pressing the towel against damp hair. It's close. It's way too close and this isn't what he meant, so Midoriya takes a step back with a faintly strangled laugh. ]

It's probably going to be easier if you're sitting down.

[all he earns in return is a blank stare with sleep-swollen eyes, mouth a small, soft line as he considers the green eyes and light dusting of freckles before him, but — ]

[ah... abruptly, he becomes a towel monster, hanging his head under the drape of fabric, unable to see Midoriya or, well, anything in front of him]

Aa. [a grunt of agreement, heading blindly towards the floor chair that sits in front of his desk and he, well, stumbles into it tiredly rather than simply sits; it means his side presses against the back and he faces his friend rather than turns away, sagging wetly into the cushion]

[this is apparently the moment he has a bout of self reflection, as Midoriya takes to his task again:]

...I've been kind of a jerk to you lately.

[he hasn't been this close to him again, since...]

[ It's too much. Midoriya swings his eyes to the ceiling and focuses on doing what's necessary until Todoroki's comfortable. He can wrestle with a poorly timed crush later, as in never. Todoroki turns and starts toward the chair and Midoriya follows after him, resisting the urge to pluck the towel and fuss. Once he's settled, Midoriya fetches the coffee mug, sets it down in front of him and comes back with the towel.

This time the approach is a little easier, more careful. He works from the ends so water doesn't drape down his neck. It's amazing that Todoroki's this awake, but he supposes it makes sense; he's stubborn and strong, so much so that Midoriya constantly feels like he's in awe of him. ]

I don't think so. [ He swipes the towel along Todoroki's shoulders gently, catching any droplets and then goes back to working water out of the ends. Maybe that's not the entire truth. ] I mean. Maybe a little, but comparatively, no one got into a yelling match or an argument that blew anything up, so. But otherwise, you already apologized earlier and I told you I forgave you.

[oh. with the food in front of him, he very suddenly becomes aware of his obscene level of hunger, snatching it up and stuffing his cheeks full — god, it's so good, but that's probably the borderline starvation talking]

[he's listening, albeit distractedly, and almost wants to scoff at the thought of something between them erupting into an actual fight. who is he, Bakugou? ...but after a pensive moment, he thinks maybe it isn't so impossible; he's needed some sense smacked into him a few times]

Mm... about that.

[his hands feel good. being touched like this, casual and trusting, purposeful enough to make it easier to accept. Midoriya is...]

I take it back; I don't regret it at all.

[homf]

[ He knows that Todoroki isn't Bakugou and has no chance of ever reaching that point. They occupy very different places in his life and while they might have gone a little hard against each other, the context wasn't ever the same in Midoriya's mind. So many things were different with Todoroki and he still wasn't sure how to make sense of it. What mattered most ultimately is that they're still friends despite the hiccups and Todoroki's around to smack sense into him too when he needs it. ]

...You. [ Midoriya inhales slow through his nose and rests a towel covered hand against the nape of Todoroki's neck, pausing.

That, combined with inviting him in here and talking about it didn't leave a lot of room for question, but Midoriya's still cautious. He'd meant what he said earlier; Todoroki was brave about all of this. He'd end up sitting on it for weeks, trying to figure out what to do with it and then do nothing at all. At least Todoroki was brave enough to bring it up for them to stumble through. ] Alright. I think your hair's as dry as it's going to get without a blowdryer.

[ He's standing there still covered in dirt and grit and Todoroki smells like warmth and the clean, cutting scent of soap but at least he's alive, eating. ]

I didn't unless you did. [ Drawing in a fortifying breath, Midoriya squares his shoulders, and drops the towel around Todoroki's neck, holding either end. It's not fair if Todoroki's the only brave one. ] I'm sorry I don't remember more of it.

[ Like. Why. Why's a good start.

Todoroki is, after all, amazing. It's not a shock Midoriya'd want to kiss him but the opposite?Wild. ]

[with his dismissal, Todoroki practically collapses, bowing into his own body with an arm across the back of the chair and his head resting on it wearily, and it gives him proper opportunity to use the straw he's been equipped with, watching his friend through heavily lidded eyes]

[it is pure stubbornness he's still awake, but who knows how long it will last; all the same, he doesn't seem interested in rushing through this... it's probably the exhaustion that's making him so forthcoming, after all]

I thought it would ruin things between us. It's good how it is.

[and even so, the heart wants what the heart wants. how much liquor had it even taken to get him to act on it? to be willing to risk it? risk Midoriya?]

[...but he's still here]

Was it your first?

[he doesn't know why he asks. why it matters — just that it does, some impression or... or invisible mark he gets to leave on him in a similar way to what's been given to him]

[ There's the itch to do something, to get Todoroki bundled up and into bed, to make sure he's as taken care of as possible and for a moment Midoriya feels a twinge of regret; if he feels this way, his friends probably feel similarly when he's injured. ]

We wouldn't let it.

[ That, he believes firmly. They're too good of friends, too close, Todoroki means too much to him to let a relationship get in the way of that, ultimately.

Slowly, like every inch of him aches, Midoriya sits down and puts his back against the low seated chair, the only barrier between them. ]

Ah, um. My first kiss? [ Is there a right answer to this? If he says yes, will Todoroki regret it more? ] Was it yours?

[foggy and tired, he lets himself believe those words for a moment — that bonds given or built are unbreakable, that there's no limit to them, lets himself feel the warmth of them all around him like a hot bath, even when experience after experience has taught him otherwise]

[humming low, he chooses to agree with him as he shifts, slumps further, slides down the back of the chair and leans his head back. they're spine to spine without the cushion and wood between them now, and his skull falls back onto Midoriya's shoulder, two colors of hair long enough to tickle down his collarbone]

[an amused scoff — ]

Of course it was. You're the first person I've ever...

[that thought trails off: soft, low. he shouldn't finish it.]

[ Exhaustion tugs at him and he knows it must be doing worse to Todoroki. As much as he wants to bottle this moment up and keep it forever, or drag it out as long as possible, he can't. Todoroki's going to be even sorer when he wakes up if he sleeps weird and Midoriya can't let that happen.

More than that, all of Todoroki's harder edges have softened and Midoriya doesn't trust himself not to dig when he shouldn't. Instead, he pushes himself to his knees and then to his feet with a muted groan. ]

Mine, too. [ He likes Todoroki like this, Midoriya decides. Or, more accurately, he wants things to be good enough between them that he gets to see this without the side of violence, healing, and general exhaustion. ] Come on. I'm getting pretty tired and you must be even more so.

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handwaves how they got back wjjfjwjf

good lMFKLNGLW

uber but for injured superheroes

OH I THOUGHT THEY WERE ALREADY BACK AT UA HYVIBFF too eager for that timeskip

FKSKFSK SORRY MY BAD

NO IT'S COOL... MY READING COMPREHENSION TOOK A HIT

IT'S ALL GOOD WE MADE IT HI5

i don't actually think they have their own baths but ask me if i care

the dorms are as horny as we wanna make them

apparently the most creative i got with max horny was baths.... i'm a failure

the world is our oyster pal

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