Work Text:
The moment Shota woke up he knew today was not going to be a good day. At first he felt only the normal fatigue that came with waking up. Then came the dull ache in his head. By the time he was fully conscious it had turned into a full-on splitting pain behind his eyes and along his brow-bone.
‘Fuck’ he thought to himself. Today was going be one of those days. He groaned as the pain pulsed from a sharp splintering-like agony, down to a duller, more general sort of agony. He was no stranger to headaches. He’d always been prone to the occasional stress related headache, caffeine headache, exhaustion headache, and his own special brand of headache that came from overuse of his quirk. However, this kind was a new member to the headache team, and was by far the worst. Shattering both of your orbital sockets will do that to you.
With his eyes squeezed shut he fumbled around and gathered all the pillows on the bed. He piled them onto his face, leaving his mouth exposed, and hugged them hard to his face. He knew this really did nothing, but he just felt the desperate need to apply pressure to his head. It felt like his skull was about to split apart and the only way to keep it together was to press on it with whatever was available. The pain continued to pulse, radiating in and out in waves, or like tides made of glass shards. An especially sharp pulse pierced him right behind his eyeballs and Shota let out another groan.
Outside the bedroom he could hear the sounds of Hizashi moving around in the kitchen. He smelled the coffee Hizashi was pouring into their travel thermoses, as he did every day, and the normally wonderful smell made Shota want to gag. He wanted to call out to his partner and tell him what was wrong, but he felt like the vibrations of his own voice would only make things worse. So he would lay there in his agony until Hizashi came back in and discovered him.
A couple of minutes later, he heard Hizashi call, “Shota, are you up yet?”
Shota did not reply, and instead clutched the two pillows tighter to his head, using the heels of his palms to practically drive them into his eyes. He could hear Hizashi walk to the bedroom.
“Dude, seriously, you need to get up,” the blond said, sounding slightly annoyed. “You can sleep all you want once we’re at school, so no ‘five minutes’-“
Shota interrupted him by letting out another groan. “’zashi…” He sounded absolutely pitiful, but he couldn’t care less at the moment.
“Sho?” Immediately his tone changed from irked to worried.
Shota heard his partner walk over to his side of the bed.
“Is it your head?” he asked softly.
The darker haired man nodded, too in pain to remember Hizashi wouldn’t be able to see the movement beneath the pillows.
The blond seemed to understand however, and knelt down and put a hand on his shoulder. “Hold on,” he said quietly.
It would probably amaze people that Present Mic was capable of being quiet at all. And normally he wasn’t. But after the USJ incident and the arrival of Shota’s migraines, the Voice Hero learned that anything above a library-voice only made the situation worse.
Shota heard Hizashi leave the room and then he let out a frustrated sigh. There’s no way he was going into class today. With any other headache he could just pop a pain pill and pretend his way through the day. There was no pretending around this one. It was honestly better that he stay home, as much as he hated missing work. He was always telling his students to know their limits and not to ignore injuries, and he would definitely not be setting a good example trying to work while his head was falling apart.
It would have been bad enough if the migraines were the only souvenirs he took home from the USJ incident. Not only did he now have more difficulty using his quirk for long periods, he’d also been plagued by nightmares. Having an unholy abomination against science break both your arms and crush your face into concrete three times while thinking your students were about to be murdered in front of you definitely stuck with a person. While his students were aware of the damage done to his quirk, thanks to Yaoyorozu’s observation during hers and Todoroki’s final, he had not disclosed any of his other residual issues. He needed to be strong for his students.
But right now what he really needed was some painkillers.
Those soon came with the beautiful sound of Hizashi coming back into the bedroom. Shota heard his partner placing items on the nightstand.
“I’m gonna have to take the pillows,” said Hizashi.
Shota grunted and held the pillows tighter against his head. He felt Hizashi gently pry his fingers up from the pillows.
“Come on, Sho.”
Shota let out a deep sigh and relinquished his hold on the pillows. His face twisted in more pain as the two pillows were removed from his face. Without the moderate weight they provided it felt like his forehead was being pried from his face with a crowbar. He felt Hizashi quickly arrange the pillows behind him, intended to prop him up.
The blond got his hand under Shota between his shoulder blades. “Try and sit up,” he told him.
This was the hard part. Shota took in a deep breath, bracing himself, and with Hizashi supporting him he started to sit up. Everything immediately got worse as he forced himself to scoot backwards towards the headboard. The sudden change of position and the movement caused his head spin and the splitting sensation to increase tenfold. It felt like somebody was burning holes behind his eyes.
“I know, I know,” Hizashi murmured next to him as he helped Shota into the new position.
Shota had to resist the urge to snap at his partner. Even the feeling of Hizashi’s hands on him right now felt overwhelming, as did everything else for that matter.
“Fuck,” he whimpered. He wanted to cry, and quite frankly he was too much in pain to care if he started. Everything hurt.
“There we go,” Hizashi said once he was propped up against the pillows.
Shota immediately went limp, the simple act of moving on his bed wearing him out. “Put me out of my misery,” he grumbled.
He felt the tip of a finger press against his head.
“Bang, you’re dead.”
“…did you just finger-gun at me?”
“Maybe.”
If Shota was capable of opening his eyes, he would be glaring at a certain blond. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Hizashi chuckled. “Knew you only liked me for my looks.”
Fingers were suddenly pushing his hair out of his face.
“Gonna tie your hair, don’t want the cream getting in it,” Hizashi explained.
The other man sighed as his partner gathered up his dark hair. The feeling of Hizashi’s finger combing through his hair did little to ease his splitting headache, but it was soothing and a comfort none the less. Hizashi may have had the repunzel long hair, but it was Shota who especially liked it when people played with his hair. Scratch that, not people, person, a very specific person. He felt the gentle tug as said specific person put his hair in a very loose ponytail. If he were standing up it no doubt would have slipped right out of his hair, but it did its job of getting his hair out of the way.
“Where’s it hurt?” Hizashi asked.
“Forehead,” Shota replied, dragging a finger across his brow bone. “Temples too. Worst is behind my eyes.”
“Too bad we can’t put cream there.” Hizashi replied.
Shota heard the sound of a cap popping, and the faint scent of menthol.
Hizashi applied a small dollop of cream to the center of SHota’s forehead and began to gently spread it out.
Shota shivered as the cooling sensation began to spread across his head. It was as if the chill was seeping into his flesh and filling in the splits in his skull. He let out a deep sigh of relief. “Remind me to call your mother to tell her I love her.”
It was Hizashi’s mother who recommended this particular cream. Mrs. Yamada had sent Shota a whole care package of products when he had been released from the hospital. The very best was this pain relieving lotion that she’d been using for her arthritis and sore muscles.
The blond snorted. “She’ll love that.” He gently blew on Shota’s skin, to increase the cooling feeling. “Okay, pill time.”
Two pills were pressed into Shota’s palm.
“Need help sitting up?”
“Let me try,” Shota replied. While it still sucked, sitting up wasn’t nearly as bad as before. He popped the pain pills into his mouth and accepted the glass of water that his partner brought to his mouth. He swallowed them both in one gulp, having become quite the expert in taking pills.
“I brought your mask, do you want it?” Hizashi asked.
The mask in question was something Hizashi discovered from an instagram ad (The fact that Hizashi frequently buys whatever dumb thing instagram advertised to him is something that Shota constantly makes fun of him for, as well as complains about given the amount of useless junk that had accumulated in their apartment.) The mask was made of a squishy jelly-like material (lime green color, to Shota’s dismay) and was kept in the freezer until one needed it. Shota loved it.
“Yes please.” The dark haired man replied. He held out his hand and the cold mask was placed in his palm. He pressed the mask to his eyes and adjusted the strap so it was under his ponytail. The cold gel-like material pressed against his eyes help to alleviate the pain behind his sockets. He almost felt like himself again.
“I texted Nemuri and asked her if she can handle your homeroom today,” said Hizashi. “You’re phone is within arm’s reach but do not use it unless you’re 100% positive you feel better. We don’t need you straining your eyes. You have a glass of water and a sleeve of saltine crackers if you feel up to eating. If you need to take another round of painkillers you have to wait six hours- in fact hold on I’m going to set an alarm on your phone…”
Shota smiled as he listened to Hizashi ramble on with his nurse’s speech. Despite his avoidance of the media, Shota was not totally opposed to getting attention. It just had to be a specific kind, and from a specific someone. “Hey,” he blindly groped for his partner’s hand. He found his wrist instead, and gently squeezed it. “Thank you, ‘zashi. For taking care of me.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” Hizashi readjusted their hands so that their fingers were intertwined.
“I know, but,” Shota swallowed, and took that time to articulate his thoughts. “Things have been tough, especially after the USJ.”
Shota remembers how impressed his students were when he hobbled into the classroom covered in bandages, talking about his ‘resolve.’ In reality, his resolve wouldn’t have meant shit if Hizashi hadn’t been there to help him through it all.
“I just want you to know that I couldn’t have recovered without you, and that I’m grateful, and…” Shota felt his cheeks heat up. “It feels nice…being taken care of.”
“Oh Shota.”
Suddenly there was a kissed pressed to his cheek.
“You really are a big softie.”
Shota snorted. “Shut up.” When he felt lips press against his own, he blindly reached for his partner’s face, cupping his cheek in his hand.
“I’ll always be ready to take care of you,” Hizashi said once they parted. “Sickness and health and all that jazz,” he teased.
“And I’ll return the favor next time you land yourself in the hospital,” Shota replied.
“I think you’ve done enough of that for the both of us. For, like, at least three years.”
“Go to work, Hizashi.”
The blonde laughed, and gave his partner another peck on the lips. “Call me if you need anything.”
“Will do.” Shota listened as Hizashi walked towards the door.
“Love you, Sho.”
“Love you too,” he replied. He continued to listen as Hizashi walked towards the apartment door. He heard the pause as Hizashi put on his boots, and then the now clunkier noise of his footsteps as he left for the day.
Shota rolled his shoulders and sank deeper into his pillows. He gently pressed on his eye mask to feel more of the cooling sensation. Shota smiled softly to himself.
It was one of those days.