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You couldn’t believe you were being let into the Paranormal Liberation Front! Well, okay. You could, because they were fairly lax with their new members and you’d signed up because certain jobs had pay, as in, cold hard cash, and you needed cash; you weren’t really one for cults or big groups- they made you nervous, but hey, money was money.
No, what was unbelievable was the position you were in now.
So you had been born lucky, right? Your quirk was strong, you’d always been praised for it. You could make people faint with eye contact. You could’ve gotten a job somewhere less shady easily if you didn’t have a criminal record. But here they apparently didn’t care about that kind of thing, and appreciated your quirk, maybe too much…You’d planned on making a quick buck and leaving, but that idea was quickly slipping out of sight.
You were told you would be Tomura Shigaraki’s bodyguard.
Yeah, that Tomura Shigaraki. Kidnap hero kids, jump off a moving truck, fight a whole city Shigaraki. You’d heard his little..speech? If it could be called that, earlier, standing to the side of the crowd. You had barely been able to see him from where you had been, and you expected to never get closer.
Ah.
Well.
You were wrong.
“I-I’m hardly qualified. I mean, he took down the big guys under you, didn’t he? I wouldn’t be better at defending him than he already is-”
“Nonsense! Your quirk is well suited for this. He’s undergoing a few procedures for the next few months and will be unable to do much. And you’ve shown loyalty to us plenty!” Normally you’d be stunned the CEO of Detnerat Co. was talking to you, but mostly you were stunned about the fact you were in a room with him and Tomura freakin’ Shigaraki, and a doctor you didn’t recognize. The doctor was shuffling around, muttering to himself. Tomura was sitting on a medical table, swinging his feet.
“This is who you hand picked? What kind of quirk do they have? Show me.”
You hesitated, eyes staying firmly on the ground. “I wouldn’t want to, erm, hurt anyone-”
“Is it non-lethal? Use it on Re-Destro.”
“Sure go ahead!”
The businessman sounded sure, so you looked in his eyes and he fainted. His head made an unsettling noise when it hit the linoleum floor.
“He’ll be out a few minutes. Usually it only lasts around ten at most.” You fidgeted. “Should I have gotten a pillow?”
Shigaraki snorted. “He’s survived worse.” ‘From me.’ Was the unspoken. “How does it work?”
“I just have to make eye contact.”
“You can’t turn it off.”
“No. But I’ve gotten really good at staring at my own feet.”
“Sunglasses?”
“No, sir, I haven’t found any that work.”
He was staring at you pretty intensely now. You could feel him from your peripherals. You had gotten really good at ignoring people staring, but you really wanted to know what kind of look he was giving you. After a few more tense seconds, he spoke.
“You must have good control then. You’re hired.”
You were so surprised you slipped up and looked at him with wide eyes, and oh god, oh fuck.
The first day of your new job started with you making your boss faint.
The first week brought a schedule for you: first thing, you woke up and showered and ate- about fifteen minutes worth of blissful alone time at the base before you headed to the medical bay, standing outside the door. Shigaraki kept a weird schedule that his naggy doctor insisted was unhealthy, so he was up early too, complaining about that, and reminding you every time he passed through the door that he still had a lump from your quirk. You would stare at your feet the first few days, bright red and praying he wouldn’t fire or kill you for it, but he seemed to be joking, so after the first few days you tested the waters and teased back, sticking your tongue out at him.
“Oh, Medusa has a sense of humor after all.” You looked at his crutches; they’d been decorated with stickers and scribbled on with markers, several different signatures. You’d thought people were supposed to sign casts and not crutches, but you didn’t say that; the original league stopped by enough that you could guess they were behind it, and almost guess who's handwriting was whose.
“Medusa?” You crossed your arms. “Is that my official code name now, sir? I don’t have snake hair, unless something’s changed since the last time I’ve looked in the mirror.”
“Can you even look in a mirror? Won’t you faint?” Oh, and you’d heard that one at least a million times. You huffed, rolling your eyes. The come back came easily, in the same tone he’d used.
“Can you even jerk off? Won’t it disintegrate?” And, oh, hello foot, nice to see you in mouth. You had never been so glad you couldn’t look at people, because you did not want to see that glare, no, noooo thank you. You had this horrible tendency to not think before speaking, and it was going to get you killed for sure. Except he was snorting, not killing you, so, yay?
He didn’t answer you though, and you were left alone in the hall to wonder, your only solace was that he was maybe wondering about you, too.
“Y’know, it won’t do much good if someone decides to attack and you can’t see if it’s a friendly or not.”
“A friendly won’t be shooting or using their quirk on me. Also, all your friends greet me, I know who’s shoes to look for.”
“Medusa is popular now, huh.”
You had been employed a little over a month now, and had gotten into a nice groove of standing against a wall, staring at the floor for several hours at a time. You’d gotten really good at daydreaming, and had several stories running in your brain at any given time, plots interlinking. Heck, you could quit this villain bodyguard stuff and start a podcast or something, those were popular right? Probably wouldn’t pay as well, but passion projects rarely did.
“I guess. Hey, when do you eat?”
“What?”
“I mean, I don’t get a lunch hour. Not complaining, but do you get to eat in there?” Actually, you had no idea what sort of ‘procedures’ he was undergoing; he always came back with more bandages, limping and sometimes even in a wheelchair. Some days seemed easier than others, sometimes he’d come out of that room hours later than expected, not even bothering with banter, and you were most concerned those days.
You were concerned in a professional way, of course, because he was your boss, even if he was young and fun to talk to, and it never ever bordered on flirting, not even if his voice was nice and a little hot-
You cut that train of thought short.
“I have food.” He confirmed. “You don’t eat at all during the day?”
“I have breakfast and dinner sometimes, but-”
“Come eat with me today.”
You blinked. “Doesn’t that defeat the point of a body guard? I’m suppose to stay out here?”
“Who’s the boss exactly?”
You shrugged, following him in. Hey, couldn’t argue with that. Also, you couldn’t argue with free food. It wasn’t even hospital food, it was like, good food! You could feel his eyes on you because you were kinda pigging out, but free was free!
“So long as you’re with me it should be fine.”
“Mfm?” Your mouth was still full of food, so the question came out muffled, but he humored you.
“I’m saying you should eat lunch in here, at least. The doctor is out for a while around this time anyway.”
“I thought you were the boss, why does it matter if he’s out?”
“It’s not like I know anything about this medical crap.” you looked around the room, unable to parse what any of the equipment did either. “I need his help, so…”
“Oh.” You knew asking what they were doing might be pushing the lines of how much he was willing to give, so you stared at the wall behind him. It was hard to not let your eyes drift towards him. Only seeing his torso and below was driving you a little crazy, and it wasn’t like you were totally oblivious to your own feelings, but still; he was your boss and that was definitely an inappropriate crush to let develop. “I probably shouldn’t eat in here then, huh?”
“You won’t? You don’t want to?”
“I.. shouldn’t.”
You could hear his chair scrape against the floor, and your breath hitched when his hand was on the table in front of you.
“I want you to. Didn’t you just remind me I’m the boss?” And he was crouching beside you, so quickly that you had to turn your head. He was inches away, so close you could feel his body heat. “Well? Or are you going to make me go stand in the hall with you to eat every day?”
“So gentlemanly,” You murmured softly, your voice catching in your throat. “Asking me to lunch. I guess if I don’t have a choice, sir.”
“Is it such a chore for you? Do you hate me that much?” There was a teasing tone to his voice; you wouldn’t figure out until later what he was really asking.
So, professionalism had totally been thrown out the window, kicked to the curb, and given the boot. You were originally supposed to ‘guard’ the room where he was vulnerable due to…’operations’, but you were eating with him, and following behind him to meetings. ‘Just in case’, he’d said, but you wondered. And it made you weirdly proud, to know you were wanted by someone so important to the whole organization.
Or, maybe you’d been properly brainwashed into a cult. This was how people became stupidly devoted to the cause. You weren’t going to slip down that slope, or at least that’s what you’d thought, but…
Someone interloped into the meetings and pulled out a gun. It was a bad day for Tomura, he was already snappy and heavily bandaged, so it was your first time getting to defend him. And you hadn’t even hesitated.
You caught a bullet in your shoulder, but managed to look the guy in the eyes, and he dropped like a fly. Four villains were on him instantly, but your breath was still ragged, clutching your shoulder and eyes darting around wildly. Assessing threats, putting yourself in front of your boss.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“My job. Sit down.” You were surprised to hear your own voice come out so stern. “We need to get you out of here.”
“I can-”
“What, fight? You can barely walk today, and I was hired for a reason. Let me do my job, sir.”
He actually shut up- you were amazed.
You got him to the med bay, both of you slow, him because he was covered in bandages, and you because there was a bullet in your arm.
“I want you to look at me.”
“You know I can’t-”
“It just can’t be eye contact, right? I’m not looking at you, so…”
You looked at him, and you didn’t find the cold eyes of a villain, but warm red eyes that were full of concern, pointed firmly at the wall. He was beautiful. You, selfishly, didn’t want to stop looking, even if it meant him fainting and you bleeding out.
“I wanted to look at you, too.” You let your eyes drift back to your lap. “So what’re we going to do about your quirk? I can’t be the only one hating my quirk right now,” You let your hand drift to his, resting it right on top of it. You had your suspicions, but you wanted to hear it from him; you wanted to know he was going as crazy as you were.
“You have a bullet wound.” He said in a deadpan voice, and you were laughing again.
So you’d healed up nicely, a few weeks had past…
And you hadn’t heard from Tomura. You’d shown up one day, and the doctor had waved you off, saying Shigaraki would ‘be under’ for a few weeks. You had demanded to know what that meant, and the doctor had asked in a very condescending tone if you had clearance to know that.
Hmfph. You should have if you didn’t already!
So you loitered around. The paychecks hadn’t stopped, even if you weren’t really doing anything important. Sometimes you’d wander to the loading docks where the trucks dropped off supplies and would help unload, just to keep busy with something, anything to distract you.
Then, one day, you got a notice you were to be at your post the next day and actually made a very loud, high pitched noise. You could’ve sworn it set off a nearby pack of dogs.
You didn’t even wait until the next day, you practically sprinted to the med bay.
“Tomura!”
“Don’t come in here yelling, Medusa.”
“I wanted to see you.” You whined. You wanted to see above his arms, actually; they looked more rough than usual; he was still in a medical gown, barefoot on the medical bed.
“Well, I want to touch you.” He snapped.
Oh. You sucked in a breath.
He finally admitted it.
“Are you on drugs?”
“What?”
“Like, uh, hospital drugs- like- the ones that make you loopy-”
“I’m coming off them,” He admitted. “But I’m not lying.”
“Sure, okay.” You took a breath. “So how about this? You- you look at me all you want since I can’t look at you, and I’ll touch you since you can’t touch me. I’ll be your touch if you’ll be my sight?”
Was that too forward? No taking it back now, but-
“Deal, starting now.” He didn’t even hesitate.
“Now…?”
“Yeah. I’ve been unconscious for weeks, I’m pretty cramped up.”
Oh, of course. Yeah. Obviously.
You settled behind him, letting your fingers drift over his shoulders. His bare shoulders. You started to untie the gown, letting it drop to his lap. Modesty was out the window along with that professionalism.
“To be honest, I’ve been looking at you since you got hired. So I’ve already got a head start on this ‘deal’, you owe me a lot of touches.”
“Is that so?” You kneaded your fingers into his back, letting one hand roam to his neck and drift over it, brushing his hair over his neck as you went, slowly. He actually shivered.
“I don’t let a lot of people this close.” He admitted. “I hate pretty much everyone, but you…”
“You seem pretty sweet on your league. Not that paranormal whatever, but the guys who always bug you and hang around.”
“It’s different.” He leaned into your touch. “Different with you…”
“You’re so high right now.”
“I’m so sore. You have no idea what I’ve been through lately.” He sighed. “It’s almost done, though.”
“Hm? What is?”
“The operation. We don't have much longer, they'll put me in the tank. Once I recover, I won’t need a bodyguard.” You paused only for a moment before twisting your thumb into his spine, and he let out a hiss.
“Don’t fire me, I got shot for you.”
“Well I know you’re no good at massages; what could I keep you around for?”
“Oh, you poor thing.” You leaned forward, letting your lips linger at his ear. “You think massages are the only type of ‘touch’?”
“…I’m giving you a raise.” He declared, and you laughed. Maybe you’d stick around regardless of money; you were having fun, and Tomura Shigaraki, yeah, that Tomura Shigaraki? The one that had totally seduced you into a cult? Well…
“Okay, I guess I don’t hate you either.” You confirmed, and his hum told you that was the right answer.