Chapter Text
F-Fucking hell.”
“I need to get all the dust out, so you don’t, um, die because of infection.”
“Be fucking gentle.”
Your head moved from where it was bent over Tomura’s bare chest to look him in the eyes, squinting a little. It had only been a mere quarter of an hour after you both landed unceremoniously, in a heap of snacks and limbs in your apartment. After leaving the mess on the living room floor, the two of you were now bickering over Tomura’s wounds.
The lights in your small, yet clean bathroom were yellowing and dim. Tomura was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, one arm out of his hoodie to reveal his torso, hand shining a torch at his stitches (ripped) and the other arm lent against the wall to provide stability.
“Shimura! I’m sure that if you went to the emergency room, like I told you to, they would be gentler than me.” You said to him with a dash of amusement and a hint of exasperation.
Tomura matched your stare, furrowed brows looking down. You were crouched on the bathroom floor on your knees, with one hand holding disinfectant, resting respectfully on his knees, and the other hand was armed with a wet cotton swab cleaning his stitches. He had already told you multiple times that he did not want the hospital. The weight of your hand on him was oddly comforting, but despite this, he was in no mood to equal your amusement. Tomura was not impressed.
His hand moved to shine the torch into your eyes. The consequences of his act of immature pettiness was instantaneous.
You let out a surprised yelp and as you moved hurriedly to stand up. Stars dancing around in your eyes caused you to stumble around. You managed to end up knocking into Tomura’s legs. This sent him from delicately perched on the bathtub, to landing into the tub with a heavy crash.
Obscene curses began spilling out of Tomura’s mouth. He was bent, folded into the tight space, his head barely missed the taps, but his shoulder collided strongly with the metal. You let out a worried gasp.
Fuck! Great! He’s going to have bruises painted all over him at this rate. He groaned in pain as tried to manoeuvre himself out.
Tomura could just see your eyes widen as he refused to dignify any of your ‘are-you-okays??’ with a response. You were actually starting to look kind of cute, under the dim lights, fussing over him. The torch he was holding earlier dusted when he fell, drenching the bathroom in yellowing light once more. You're moving again, talking too, about how you were so sorry for accidentally pushing him. His head started to pound a little, he was aching all over.
“Are you going to help me up or what?” His voice came out hoarse, silencing you as he spoke, “Get me out of here and I’ll be fine.”
He was blunt with his words, but it was true, all he wanted now was to go back to the hideout and forget all about this sidekick-sidechick. He had bigger things to think about, such as expanding his League of Villains, currently of two villains (himself and Kurogiri).
oOo
You, on the other hand, were thinking about how cosmically fucked you were, and how this night, now probably day was fucked too.
Your boyfriend, a cheater. The stranger you met on the street, who was hurt, was hurting again in your bathroom this time, and you, you just wanted a good time. This was very much not a good time, especially when all you wanted was to go to the club, get drunk, get back and maybe fall asleep to a few videos you found on the internet.
You were feeling terribly sober right now.
“Shimura, are you sure you're okay?” You stressed the word ‘okay’, because it clearly looked like he wasn’t.
His blue hair was extremely tousled, as if he was caught in a tornado moments before, and in your head, you just knew that his back was marred with purple bruises. It certainly did not help that, after you moved from the bathroom to the living room sofa, the man was laid on it as if he was on the verge of passing away. Or, perhaps he was falling asleep, the two of you have been awake for god knows how long.
oOo
Tomura changed out of the grimy hoodie he had on earlier, into one of your ex’s sweatshirts. It wasn’t black, but navy and plain. He might have just dusted you there and then if you offered him something with All Might’s face sprawled across it.
Come to think of it, when he first entered, he noticed your apartment was very void of anything regarding heroes.
No posters or gaudy hero merch or even little hero trinkets. He was so sure that the average citizen would certainly have something that would indicate that they lived in a hero society. After all, all of them, every one, were sheep under the influence of heros and All Might.
“Shimura, are you sure you’re okay?”
“I said I was fine.” He muttered, head tilted back, leaning against the sofa, “Pass me the peach gummies would you?”
“…”
“Please?”
He watched you gather all the now-remembered snacks from off the floor, dropped them onto the sofa next to him along with yourself.
Sinking into the cushions with a sigh, you tore open a packet of sour gummies. He reached for his packet of sweets. They were chewy in his mouth and disgustingly sweet, just as he usually liked.
After a few minutes of comfortable quiet eating, Tomura called out your name. With tired eyes, you looked towards him and hummed.
He breathed deeply, weighing up his decisions. Should he ask you about it — the heros? Or, better yet, the absence of them.
He looked up from his snacks to you. For lack of a better word, Tomura thought you were pretty, very, and soft too. But, why??
“Why did you help me?” He said with a blank face, trying to figure you out. You weren’t getting on his nerves right now, shockingly, but your answer could easily alter that.
You looked at him with mild surprise, before your face morphed into an expression that Tomura could only describe as determination.
Dear god, he’s going to sit through one of these again. You may not display signs of the heroic rot, but it sure is in you. Tomura could feel his fingers starting to itch. It would be so easy to just grab you and watch you disappear along with your heroism.
“Shimura,” you begin, “Did you know that our society is rife with fake heros?”
Oh.
Tomura felt for another gummy and placed it into his mouth. The peach flavour coating his tongue, it somehow tasted sweeter than before.
Interesting.