Chapter Text
Nononononono, Hitoshi thinks as he watches Kaminari get electrocuted by his own quirk, sparks flying all around him as he shakes violently, his whole body rigid.
Hitoshi watches in horror as Kaminari’s body collapses to the ground, like a puppet on a string whose string has been cut. His shoulder brutally collides with the concrete and the impact is so forceful that his head bounces up one more time only to hit the ground again with a loud cracking sound.
All of a sudden, Hitoshi regains his composure and snaps back to reality, sprinting towards the unmoving body of his best friend. He lets go of the capture weapon still wrapped loosely around his palm, his eyes glued to Kaminari, and he doesn't think he’s ever run this fast in his entire life.
This is all my fault, he thinks when he drops down to the ground next to Kaminari, his hands frantically hovering over his unconscious body as he fails to think of how to act properly.
(Some hero he’s going to be if he just freezes completely in the face of danger.)
Suddenly, there are big calloused hands under his, gently but urgently brushing his away and Hitoshi looks up at his dad, his face still frozen in shock.
Aizawa is crouched down next to him, his face calm and collected as he routinely checks for Kaminari’s pulse and breathing.
“Hitoshi,” he says, using his given name even though they’re in class, “Can you roll him over onto his side?”
Hitoshi blinks, his eyes wide and mouth agape, but then he jumps into action and gently pushes Kaminari onto his side, watching with fear as Aizawa inspects the wound on the back of his head.
“His vitals are okay. The wound on his head should get looked at, but other than that I think this is just a quirk induced blackout,” Aizawa says, his voice monotone. His grey eyes are cool and reassuring when he looks at Hitoshi. “Nevertheless, I would prefer if he gets checked out properly. Can I trust you to get him to Recovery Girl? I need to stay with the other students.”
Hitoshi nods mechanically. He hears himself say, “Of course.”
Aizawa nods and gets up from the ground, observing Kaminari. “I’ll check up on you after class.” Just before he leaves, he turns his gaze towards Hitoshi and says, “Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.”
Then he leaves him alone and Hitoshi’s gaze snaps back to the lifeless form on the ground. Kaminari’s hair is splayed out on the ground around him like a fan, his lips slightly parted and his eyes closed, and if it weren’t for the small patch of blood next to his head, Hitoshi would almost believe he was asleep.
Recovery Girl, right, Hitoshi reminds himself and forces his body to move, carefully pushing his arms under Kaminari’s body and lifting him up from the ground.
He makes sure that his head is supported on his right arm, before he starts the walk back to school, surprised at how light Kaminari is in his arms.
This is all my fault, Hitoshi thinks while he carries him, Kaminari didn't know that I had my scarf modified.
Hitoshi had his last appointment with Powerloader just three days ago. They replaced the alloy in his capture weapon with some new kind of metal that doesn’t conduct. Aizawa noticed that particular loophole during their last training session when Todoroki used his fire to heat up his scarf, causing Hitoshi to burn his hands. He got him an appointment immediately after to do something about it.
Hitoshi looks down at the pale face of his friend and furrows his brows. However, there is something about this whole incident that just doesn’t add up and leaves him more than confused. Kaminari’s charge seemed way more powerful than usual, and even if it hadn’t backfired, Hitoshi is pretty sure Kaminari didn't intend to fry him like that.
He arrives at Recovery Girl’s room shortly after, the light weight of Kaminari not nearly enough to make him slow his pace, and Recovery Girl is by his side in an instant, ushering him to lay Kaminari down on one of the beds.
“What happened?” she asks, already checking Kaminari’s vitals.
Hitoshi opens his mouth. And closes it again, pressing his lips into a thin line. What exactly had happened?
“His...his quirk backfired, I think? He tried to use it on me through my capture weapon, but I had it modified last week. It doesn't conduct electricity anymore, so his attack didn’t travel and hit him instead and he...he passed out after that.”
Recovery Girl finishes her check-up and sits back in her chair, frowning. “He’s burning up.” Hitoshi stares at her.
“His vital signs are fine,” she continues, confirming Aizawa’s words. “He has a steady heartbeat and a stable blood pressure. The impact left him with a mild head wound and probably a concussion, but other than that he's fine. Him passing out is most likely due to his high fever.”
Hitoshi keeps staring at her. Kaminari is running a fever?
You knew something was off, a voice in the back of his mind scolds him, you saw the signs.
Since English class this morning, something about Kaminari just didn’t seem right. Normally, he instantly brightens every room he walks into with just his presence. His voice is usually one of the loudest of the bunch and his contagious laughter follows Hitoshi all day long.
But today Kaminari had been quiet and now that he thinks about it, Hitoshi isn’t even sure if he heard him speak at all today, except for their brief exchange during lunch.
He’s been even more jittery and distracted than usual and Hitoshi remembers that he hasn’t even touched his food.
He noticed all that, and yet he dismissed his worry with a simple Sure from Kaminari, when he asked him whether he was fine. How bad of a friend is he?
Hitoshi licks his chapped lips. “Will he be okay?”
Recovery Girl smiles at him. “Don’t you worry. I’ll fix him right up, he should be fine in the morning.”
With that, she hops off her chair and steps closer to the bed Kaminari is resting on. She places a wet smooch on his forehead, and Hitoshi imagines his cheeks gaining back some colour instantly, even though he knows Recovery Girl’s quirk doesn’t work like that.
“Can I stay here?” he asks, his eyes glued to the slowly rising and falling chest of his friend.
“He just needs some rest, you don't need to stay.”
“I want to stay.”
Recovery Girl studies him for a while, her eyes searching behind her visor, and it makes Hitoshi want to avert his own. However, he keeps his gaze locked on her, determined to get his point across.
“Fine,” she sighs eventually, “you can stay if you want.”
Hitoshi releases a relieved breath and nods, thanking her before gratefully taking a seat next to Kaminari’s bed.
I’m awful at being a friend, Hitoshi thinks to himself once Recovery Girl left, studying Kaminari’s face. No wonder, everybody hated me in General Studies.
He can all but hear Kaminari’s voice scolding him, telling him to stop saying such bullshit and that the kids in General Studies just didn’t have the heart to appreciate him for the kind person he really is.
Compared to him, Kaminari is really good at being a friend. Even after his big announcement that he’s not here to make any friends, Kaminari didn't back off and instead just made him his friend anyway, because that's just the kind of person he is—loved by everybody and everyone’s friend.
Hitoshi smiles. Kaminari is gonna be a great hero one day.
After a while, the steady ticking sound of the clock and Kaminari’s pulse, wired to the heart rate monitor, makes Hitoshi’s eyelids droop and he yawns, shuffling closer to the bed until he can rest his head next to Kaminari’s body.
Last night was another disaster, he wasn’t able to get even a single minute of sleep in, and the tiredness is really starting to show during the day by now. His dad keeps telling him to talk to someone, offering to get him any help he needs, but Hitoshi always refuses. He appreciates it, and he knows it would make his dads happy, but he just can’t ever trust someone else with his past—it’s too heavy to bear and he just wants to forget it, not talk about it.
Eventually, Hitoshi falls asleep to Kaminari's breathing.
“Hey, sleepyhead.”
Hitoshi stirs awake, his head fuzzy with sleep as he blearily looks up at Kaminari, who’s giving him a lopsided smile, his golden bangs hanging into his face. Hitoshi blinks, disoriented and confused for a moment, before his mind fills him in and he remembers what happened: training, the accident, Recovery Girl.
He sits up straight and rubs his burning eyes.
“Sorry. Didn't wanna wake you, but my leg’s dying,” Kaminari says, chucking quietly.
With a jolt, Hitoshi realises he must have crept closer in his sleep, until his head was resting comfortably on Kaminari’s left thigh.
“Ah, I’m sorry,” Hitoshi says, brushing a hand through his messy lilac hair, “I must’ve fallen asleep.”
Kaminari hums, shaking his head as if to brush his concerns off, and Hitoshi watches him while his eyes are closed. He still looks tired, exhausted even, his skin pale with dark shadows under his eyes and his forehead shining with sweat.
“Are you feeling any better?”
Kaminari’s small smile turns rueful and he looks down at his own body, covered by a typically white blanket that screams hospital. “Better,” he mumbles. “My head doesn’t feel like it’s being split open and my quirk doesn't feel like it wants to burn me alive anymore, so that's something, I guess.”
Kaminari’s mouth stays open, like he wants to add something, but after a few seconds of battling with himself, his golden eyes shining bright in the orange light of the setting sun, he closes it and just rests his hands in his lap, avoiding Hitoshi’s gaze.
“I’m sorry,” Hitoshi starts and worries his bottom lip between his teeth. “I should’ve noticed.”
In the blink of an eye, Kaminari’s head snaps up, his eyes burning fiercely and brows creased. “No, I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I know I shouldn't have fought like that, but—I didn’t wanna miss school, because I’m already behind in everything, because I’m an idiot and—”
“You’re not an idiot.”
They are both surprised at the anger in Hitoshi’s voice, Kaminari’s eyes wide as his mouth snaps shut. Hitoshi clears his throat and tries to fight the blush rising up his neck. “You’re not an idiot,” he repeats, softer this time. “Grades aren't the only thing defining intelligence. And you’re plenty smart. The way you talk to people and always manage to make them feel welcome eludes me. You always know when to say what and you always lighten up the room wherever you go.”
Kaminari’s expression turns soft, the ghost of a smile playing around his lips as his shoulders relax and he watches Hitoshi, his eyes looking like liquid gold, and Hitoshi feels his cheeks burning, but takes a deep breath anyway and continues.
“Also, you know an insane amount about the most random of things. Remember when you told me all about the geological time scale thing last week? I couldn't even pronounce most of these words.”
Kaminari laughs, hiding his face in the blanket. “Thanks, Shinsou,” he says, once his laughter dies down. “It really means a lot. I think you’re the only person who hasn’t called me stupid yet.”
Irritation bubbles in Hitoshi’s stomach at those words and he feels oddly protective of the worn-out looking boy in front of him, who obviously thinks so very little of himself.
Thankfully, Recovery Girl uses that moment to intrude, stopping Hitoshi from saying something he might regret as she draws the curtain open and steps into the makeshift room. “I see my patient is awake.”
Kaminari throws her a crooked smile and Hitoshi gets up from his chair, taking a few steps backwards until Recovery Girl has enough space to check up on Kaminari.
“How are you feeling?”
“Much better, thanks,” Kaminari replies, his voice more or less back to its usual enthusiastic tone.
Recovery Girl hums, jotting something down on her clipboard before shoving a thermometer down Kaminari’s throat. Hitoshi has to try very hard not to erupt into laughter because the shocked expression on Kaminari’s face is just too hilarious.
When the thermometer beeps after a few seconds, Recovery Girl takes it out and squints her eyes to look at the number. “38,” she says, “It’s still quite high, but it dropped by three degrees since last time, so I guess you're telling the truth.”
Kaminari beams. “Am I trustworthy enough to sleep in my own room?”
Recovery Girl frowns. “I would prefer if you stayed the night here. Your reaction to your own quirk was very unusual.”
Kaminari pouts, his bottom lip jutting out, and even though Hitoshi finds the expression weirdly adorable, he can't help but agree. If he were able to sleep at night, Hitoshi’s pretty sure he would sleep a lot better knowing Kaminari is in safe hands.
However, Kaminari apparently has different plans. “Shinsou can look after me!”
Hitoshi freezes, his body going rigid as his arms clench at his sides, and Recovery Girl turns around to face him, her eyes studying his face. She clicks her tongue, contemplating the idea. Hitoshi licks his lips and tries his best to look like someone you could trust. “I guess...I can make an exception.”
Kaminari squeals, throwing his arms up in the air—his arms that are still connected to various machines and monitors, nearly causing them to crash on top of him. With a sheepish grin, he slowly lowers his hands and apologises. Recovery Girl simply ignores him and just says, “You’re on strict bed rest. And I expect you to tell Shinsou-kun should you feel worse in any way.”
Kaminari nods enthusiastically, his cheeks having gained back a healthy rose tint.
Then Recovery Girl turns to fix Hitoshi with a stern look. “Shinsou-kun,” she starts, “I expect you to take his temperature every few hours and watch for any signs of unwellness.”
“Of course,” Hitoshi answers, nodding dutifully and even bowing a little. His voice sounds calm and collected, yet his thoughts are anything but. He is the reason Kaminari ended up here in the first place, and now he’s supposed to look after him?
Recovery Girl doesn’t notice his inner struggle and nods, seemingly satisfied with both of their answers. She collects her clipboard and starts walking towards the curtain, drawing it shut behind her.
“All right then, I will leave you boys to it. And be careful.”
“Sorry,” Kaminari says, fumbling with the hem of his shirt, “didn’t wanna throw you under the bus there, but she never would've let me leave.”
His lips twist into an apologetic smile. “You don't have to, like, stay with me all night. I’m sure you have better things to do than babysit.” Kaminari gives a quiet huff of laughter and brushes his bangs out of his face.
“I don’t,” Hitoshi replies, a second too quickly, and Kaminari’s eyes widen in surprise. “Have better things to do, that is. I can stay with you.”
In fact, I kinda have to, Hitoshi thinks, I don't wanna see you passed out again.
“Great! Then we can watch one of the movies that didn’t get chosen yesterday!” Kaminari exclaims, flashing his teeth at him in a bright smile that makes it more than obvious that he never wanted Hitoshi to leave in the first place. Hitoshi returns his smile. Because there's nothing else you can do when Kaminari grins at you like that, he learned that on his first day in Class 2-A.
The walk back to Kaminari’s room is a very slow one, Kaminari leaning on Hitoshi, his breathing strained and cheeks flushed with exertion, despite the fact that he keeps insisting that he’s never felt better.
By the time they reach the door, Shinsou’s been shocked with tingling electric charges about twenty times. Kaminari apologises every single time, beads of sweat starting to form on his skin, and Hitoshi tells him not to worry about it every single time.
“Thanks,” Kaminari says, his eyes bright but tired. “Guess I still don't have full control over my quirk back.”
“Of course you don't,” Hitoshi says simply, “You’re still ill.”
“True that,” Kaminari replies, a sheepish grin on his lips as he swings the door to his room open and leads them inside.
Hitoshi has been in his Kaminari’s room plenty of times before. At first, it’s only been their joint study sessions, something Hitoshi greatly appreciated because transferring from General Studies meant he was behind on almost every class. Then they’ve started hanging out in his room just for fun, playing games together or watching movies, or just simply staying up the night talking.
The walls of Kaminari’s room are lined with an abundance of band posters of which Hitoshi can only name half of, even though he would say that he himself is quite versed in the music scene. The lighting is dim, warm orange fairy lights, but Hitoshi can easily make out the two guitars, placed in the corner of the room—one he knows to be Kaminari’s first ever musical instrument from when he was six and the other one a gift he got from the Bakusquad, as they call themselves, for his birthday last week.
His desk is littered with open notebooks, pens, papers full of Kaminari’s messy handwriting and worn textbooks. Hitoshi doesn't think he's ever seen the actual colour of the desk underneath. Next to his desk, Kaminari proudly displays his honestly ridiculous collection of caps, most of them either having at least some kind of yellow colour detail or lightning ornaments. His biggest pride, however, is his skateboard and it’s propped up right in front of the cap collection, looking just as well-used as it is, with Kaminari practicing some new trick every day.
Clothes are strewn across the whole floor and Hitoshi has to be careful not to step on anything as he slowly guides Kaminari to his bed. His bed, which is notably also cluttered with clothes, crumpled blankets and even a few nailpolish bottles from when Hitoshi came over two days ago and they painted their nails because that's just the edgy kind of guys they are. Or so he supposes.
Hitoshi himself is quite an orderly person, his room in pristine condition at all times, but he finds that Kaminari’s mess doesn't bother him half as much as he thought it would the first time he heard about it. Because it's Kaminari’s mess, and his room speaks volumes about who he is as a person, what he likes and wears, what he listens to and what he smells like. To Hitoshi, it always feels like getting another glimpse into his mind every time he enters his room.
“You feeling all right?” Hitoshi asks when Kaminari’s breaths come in heavy, shallow bursts as he sits down on the bed, his back leaned against the wall and his eyes closed.
“Yup! Fine and dandy! Just gimme a sec, then I’m ready.”
“Do you want me to get you anything? Water? Food? Blankets?”
Kaminari laughs, the low sound filling the room and making Hitoshi’s insides feel all warm and melty.
“Water would be great, actually. Thanks, Shinsou, really appreciate it.”
“Sure,” Hitoshi says and gets up from the bed, walking over to the closet at the other end of the room, where he knows Kaminari stores his water bottles. It takes him a while, rummaging around various clothes and boxes, but then he finally finds what he was looking for and retrieves one of the last two bottles with a satisfied smile on his lips.
“There you go,” he says and hands Kaminari a glass filled with sparkling water, waiting until he takes a few sips so he can place it on the bedside table for him.
“Thanks! I feel a million times better already!” Kaminari exclaims, grinning brightly up at him, his hair sticking up in the back. Hitoshi’s stomach jolts, and not in the bad way. In the way where you’re slowly going up the rollercoaster, when you can already feel the tingling sensation of anticipation in your stomach, when the drop happens, the very first second of going down.
“Now, come sit down!” Kaminari pats the empty space next to him and Hitoshi fights back a smile, rubbing the back of his neck like he always does when he’s a little bit embarrassed.
“You sure you're up for it?” he asks as he sits down next to Kaminari on the bed. “We can always watch it tomorrow.”
“I’m fine, Shinsou! Seriously!” Kaminari laughs, flexing his muscles and striking ridiculous poses to get his point across.
Hitoshi cocks his head and crosses his arms. “You just got electrocuted!”
“Happens all the time!”
“You passed out and hit your head on the concrete!”
“Because I have a fever!”
“Exactly!”
Hitoshi fixes Kaminari with a pointed look, noisily exhaling through his nose to let him know just how exasperated he is with him for not taking care of himself properly. But Kaminari just simply stares back at him with just as much determination in his eyes.
After some intense staring that inevitably ends up as some kind of contest, gold meeting purple, Hitoshi eventually sighs and gives in, slumping his shoulders.
He supposes it’s at least better than running around outside or, god forbid, getting up to some typical Bakusquad shenanigans. Hitoshi still remembers that one time Sero ended up with third-degree burns because they wanted to know whether it was possible for Bakugou’s explosions to travel on a straight path using Mina’s acid and Sero’s tape. Spoiler alert: it isn’t.
“Fine,” Hitoshi says, watching Kaminari from the side, his eyes weary. “Which one do you wanna watch?”
Kaminari grins, clapping his hands together in excitement, before he reaches for his laptop at the end of his bed and the DVDs on the shelf next to it. “I want to eat your pancreas!”
“I want to eat your what?”
Hitoshi’s eyebrows shoot up and he gives Kaminari an incredulous look, not sure if he heard him correctly.
“Your pancreas,” Kaminari repeats, like that’s the most normal thing ever and Hitoshi is the one not making any sense. “Trust me, it's totally cute. It even won a prize for best animated romance movie last month.”
Hitoshi hums, not entirely convinced. The title makes it sound more like a Tokyo Ghoul kind of gore movie. “If you say so.”
Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, short and sharp, and they both freeze, looking at the door with wide eyes like they were caught doing something illegal.
“Come in!” Kaminari says after a few seconds, sitting up a little straighter.
The door swings open slowly and a head of black hair peeks inside, grey eyes as tired as usual.
“Ah, Shinsou,” Aizawa says when he spots him and Hitoshi straightens up a bit, nodding at his dad. Aizawa’s gaze travels towards Kaminari and he adds, “I heard from Chiyo that you were allowed to leave for the night. How are you feeling?”
“As good as new, sensei!” Kaminari replies. He winks at Hitoshi when he adds, “Got the best nurse looking after me!”
Hitoshi is pretty sure nobody else would recognise the tell-tale signs of amusement on Aizawa’s face, the corners of his lips curling up the slightest bit and a faint sparkle in his eyes. He blushes and hopes his dad won’t notice in the dim light.
“I see. Then, make sure you rest and don’t do anything stupid.” With that, Aizawa leaves the room, closing the door behind him, and Hitoshi frowns. He definitely has to talk to his dad about his choice of words.
However, he finds Kaminari grinning at him when he turns back around to meet his gaze, the hint of a blush dusting the bridge of his freckled nose and no sign that he took Aizawa’s words to heart. “Let me just get a blanket and then we can get started!”
“I’ll get it,” Hitoshi says, already getting up from the bed. He makes his way to the messy closet again and rummages around in it for a while until he retrieves the brightly yellow coloured fleece blanket Kaminari always uses as a movie blanket.
He reclaims his seat next to Kaminari and drapes the blanket across the both of them, shuffling a bit closer so that they’re both covered.
“This okay?”
“Mhhm,” Kaminari hums his approval and leans his head on Hitoshi’s shoulder. “Let’s go,” he says and presses play.
Honestly, Hitoshi is not the biggest fan of these kinds of movies; the plot is always the same and the characters are most often very stereotypical. He prefers to watch horror, mystery or even action movies, but Kaminari absolutely loves romantic movies like these, so Hitoshi gladly watches them with him, loving the soft smile and bright laughs they always elicit from him.
Hitoshi is pretty sure Kaminari must have watched all of them by now, from all over the world. Which is why he always gets so excited when a new one comes out. Apparently, this one literally called I want to eat your pancreas just dropped in cinemas in Japan last month—they must have run out of ideas and just thrown something together for the title.
They watch the movie about a terminally ill girl who falls in love with a boy from her class and Kaminari goes on and on about how they are both so oblivious to their feelings it hurts (Hitoshi wonders why Kaminari even enjoys those movies so much if the whole premise of them actually hurts him).
“Can’t they see what’s right in front of their eyes?!” Kaminari gestures wildly with his hands at the screen while he complains as if the characters can actually see him.
Hitoshi merely smiles, already used to his constant commentary. “If they just think for one moment, they'd know how perfect they are together!”
Kaminari leans forward, his eyes glued to the screen as he watches the main character blush as the girl’s hand brushes against his. His bangs are tucked behind his ears, showing off his piercings, and Hitoshi’s whole world just stops when Kaminari’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, his body going rigid like he’s just been struck by lightning or Kaminari’s quirk. His breath hitches in his throat and he just stares at Kaminari, finding himself unable to avert his gaze. How come he never thought for one moment?
Kaminari gives a frustrated sigh and flops back down onto Hitoshi’s shoulder, his bottom lip jutting out.
“God, I just wish they’d kiss already.”
Hitoshi’s heart skips a beat only to start up twice as fast afterwards, and time comes to a standstill for a moment before he leans down and places a soft kiss to Kaminari’s left cheek, his skin hot under his lips.
Kaminari’s eyes widen, his head snapping up abruptly. “What was that?” he squeaks, staring at Hitoshi with his mouth agape.
Hitoshi grins, despite the blush he’s most definitely sporting, his cheeks burning hot. “Me realising what's right in front of me.”
Kaminari’s eyes comically widen even further, and he moves from the spot on Hitoshi’s shoulder, leaving it empty and cold. His mouth still hangs open when he stares at Hitoshi, completely dumbfounded as he blinks repeatedly, a flush making its way up his neck.
Then he suddenly grabs Hitoshi by the shoulders and shakes him, his grip firm but gentle as he groans, “Oh my god, Shinsou. Are you telling me we’ve been one of those annoying couples from the movies?!”
Hitoshi laughs, wondering how he ever could have thought that what he felt for this strangely cute and bright boy in front of him was just friendship. How he continued to think that even after watching all those movies about love with him.
He has to admit, though, he quite likes the sound of the word couple spilling from Kaminari’s mouth in that context—that context being one that involves the both of them.
“Maybe?” Hitoshi says, quirking an eyebrow when Kaminari just groans louder in response. “Depends on how you feel about this.”
His tone is calm and confident, but his heart pounds against his ribcage, threatening to jump out of his throat, and Hitoshi thinks he might just die if Kaminari refuses him right now—it’d be like a deconstruction, a bit of fresh air in the genre.
But then, Kaminari’s frown transforms into the brightest smile Hitoshi has ever seen and he can’t even take a single breath before Kaminari leans forward, his golden eyes electric as he places a kiss on Hitoshi’s mouth.
Kaminari’s lips are soft against his, his bangs tickling his face, and it tastes like the strawberry chocolate covered Pocky they've been eating. Hitoshi’s eyes flutter shut and he lifts a hand to gently cup Kaminari’s left cheek, marvelling at the smoothness of his skin.
“Hm,” Kaminari muses, once they get the tiniest bit of distance between them, “We’re definitely better than those couples. At least we deal with this now.” The tips of his ears are tinted pink, a feverish expression in his eyes that could either be his hot body temperature or euphoria, and Hitoshi sure hopes it’s the latter.
He smiles, so wide his cheeks almost hurt, and then he says, “Whatever you say.”
All of a sudden, Kaminari squints his eyes, his brows creasing adorably, and then a yawn breaks past his lips, his eyelids drooping heavily afterwards.
Hitoshi’s heart melts into a puddle, leaving him all giddy and warm, and he quickly scrambles from the bed. “Let's get you to bed,” he says and takes the laptop, turning it off and placing it on top of the mess that is Kaminari’s desk.
“Hmm,” Kaminari mumbles, rubbing his eyes. “Only if you stay.”
Hitoshi hesitates. They have often stayed up together until the early hours of the morning, but Hitoshi always goes back to his own room to sleep, just above Kaminari’s.
He clears his throat. “You sure?”
Kaminari nods, an encouraging smile on his lips. “I don't wanna be alone tonight.” His brows furrow and he adds, “Last night was very kinda crappy, tbh.”
This makes Hitoshi snort with laughter because he can’t believe Kaminari just used tbh in a spoken conversation. He sighs, chuckling quietly, before making his way over to the closet for the third time that day. “Pretty sure it's gonna be even worse with an insomniac there.”
“Nah,” Kaminari shoots back, “Pretty sure everything’s better with my boyfriend there.”
Hitoshi’s heart does a double take in his chest and he smiles to himself, hidden in the darkness of the closet. Boyfriend. He has a boyfriend now. He wonders what Aizawa is going to say about that...
After successfully retrieving some sleeping clothes for the both of them, Hitoshi throws Kaminari a Pikachu shirt and matching dark yellow pants. He takes one of Kaminari’s band shirts for himself because Kaminari almost exclusively wears oversized clothes so they fit his taller frame.
When Kaminari gets changed into his pyjamas, Hitoshi can't help but sneak a glance, and what he sees almost makes him suck in a sharp breath.
Kaminari’s whole body is covered in angry red scars and dark lilac bruises, dotting his skin in intricate patterns.
Lichtenberg figures, Hitoshi recalls from his time in General studies. Lichtenberg figures are patterns that appear on surfaces after electric discharge and they're most often found on wood or grass after a thunderstorm. Hitoshi never considered the possibility of them appearing on someone’s skin. He supposes it makes sense, though, with Kaminari literally being a conductor, electricity passing through his body like lightning.
The scars are kind of beautiful, making their way across Kaminari’s body in fern-like patterns, but Hitoshi can only imagine how painful they must be. He makes a mental note to talk to Kaminari about trying to find a solution for this once he’s feeling better and forces himself to avert his eyes.
Just in time, too, because Kaminari finishes dressing and turns back around, a grin on his lips despite his tired eyes.
“I’m dead tired,” he yawns and joins Hitoshi on the bed, slipping under the covers and patting the space next to him in an invitation for Hitoshi to do the same.
Expertly (because he’s had a lot of practice hiding his fear over the years) Hitoshi ignores the racing heart in his throat and slips under the blanket, too, the familiar smell of Kaminari enveloping him immediately—the smell of chocolate, the outdoors and slightly burnt fabric.
They end up cuddling as they fall asleep, Hitoshi’s arm draped around Kaminari’s waist and Kaminari’s face nuzzled in the crook of Hitoshi’s neck, their chests flush against each other.
“Night, Hitoshi,” Kaminari mumbles and Hitoshi feels his stomach flutter nervously at the use of his given name.
“Night, Denki,” he replies, letting the name roll off his tongue, testing out how it feels.
Hitoshi falls asleep within minutes for the first time in probably five years, Kaminari’s breath warm on his face and his heartbeat steady against his.
______________________
(The next morning, Hitoshi wakes up with a fever.
“Oops,” Kaminari says, his hair mussed with sleep and voice lower than usual. The smirk on his lips tells Hitoshi that he’s not sorry at all.
“Worth it,” Hitoshi mumbles, suppressing a shiver, and Kaminari’s smirk falters—the king of being flirty doesn’t know the half of what he’s gotten himself into with Hitoshi.
Hitoshi smirks, too, wide and teasing, like he stole Kaminari’s, and he props himself up on his elbow until he can lean over and press a kiss to Kaminari’s temple. Then he bows his head and steals another kiss from his lips.)