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"Are you sure you're alright? You don't need anything─?"
"No. Now leave me the hell alone, will you?"
"B,But Kac──"
“I said LEAVE!"
Slam!
Dammit.. Was it that hard to get some peace and quiet around here? All he wanted to do was be alone, and rest. But everyone was making it so difficult and wouldn't leave his side all day.
It all started with an incident that morning. He was just walking back from the store, a bag filled with snacks in hand, when it happened. Apparently, a low level villain had escaped from the clutches of Pro Hero Hawks. Why, Bakugo was only minding his own business when
Screeeeeech!
"Hey! Get outta the way kid!"
Huh? What the hell was─
“OOF!"
Suddenly, red feathers appeared by dozens, doubled, and they surrounded the hooligan effortlessly, ceasing him. As the beer bellied man struggled to get loose, however, he lost balance and toppled over Bakugou. The impact sent him flying across the ground, the skin of his forearm scraping harshly against the pavement. It was enough to reduce a shout from him, as he cursed through gritted teeth, cradling his injured arm.
The No.2 Hero peered down at the teen, his eyes shaded with an almost apologetic expression, and he approached him with steady, light steps. "Dang.. Sorry, kid. Didn't see you there." It was meant to be an apology, but why did it sound so half assed?
Cursing under his breath, Bakugo pulled to his feet and shot the man a heated glare, brushing him off. "Whatever." He didn't have time for this. All he wanted was to spend his weekend alone in his room, eating snacks. Now he had to tend to these damn wounds. Could this day get any worse??
"Kachaaaan!'
Shit. Why.. Just, why?
─────────────────── · · · · · · · · · · · ·
After getting treated by recov lady he was sent back to his room so he could, finally, rest. Nothing─ no one─ could take this from him.
Sliding down on the floor, his back pressed against his bed, Bakugo hesitantly reached up to touch his bandaged wound. Though it had been carefully wrapped, he could still, faintly, feel the raw flesh in which emitted a sharp hiss past his tongue. It hurted like hell.. Not that he'd ever allow admit that; he had given everyone the impression that he was fine, that this, in fact, was nothing.
But that was far from the truth.
Times like these, he realized just how truly weak he was. It was only a small injury, one that would heal in a matter of days. So, why, then,
Knock knock
"Son of a─! Who is it?"
"It's me."
Me? Of all the.. Pushing down his annoyance by the vague reply, Bakugo pressed his back further against his bed, more than even possible. "Come in.."
At this point, his day couldn't possibly get any worse than, and he resigned himself to the next pity party that would be received through that door. However, who he didn't expect to walk in was
"Hitoshi Shinso..?"
God dammit, why him? Literally anybody would be better than this guy, even.. even god damn Deku.
He couldn't begin to put into words how this guy, Shinso, so utterly, completely─ made his skin crawl. Just his presence alone made him feel so.. disgustingly small, warm,
Weak.
He couldn't fathom why─ why Shinso, of all people, made him feel this way. It was the worst feeling imaginable, but oddly enough.. It excited him, so much to the point that it had his insides crazy, almost begging, for more of this strange sensation that irritated him to no end.
"I heard from Deku you were injured today.."
God dammit Deku..
The purple haired male took slow, painfully, irritatingly slow steps towards the bedside. His amethyst eyes were like that of a Cheshire cat; narrowed and teasing, analyzing his every feature with such concentration. That was it. Those eyes. God, how much he despised─ relished─ those eyes. How it looked straight into his soul, unraveling him.
It was almost like a game to him; how much he enjoyed seeing the unease, discomfort, confusion, excitement, playing within the ruby hues of Katsuki Bakugou. But he didn't say anything. Not even as he kneeled down in front of him, his eyes falling to the bandaged arm in which was seemingly shielded by Bakugo's good hand.
"Does it hurt?"
“Tsk. The hell does it look like?"
As if feigning carelessness, the explosive male broke eye contact and shrugged his shoulders. He tightened his grip on his arm accidentally, cursing when he did so. Why was he even here? It was clear as day to him,
He didn't give a damn about him.
Or so he thought.
“Be careful not to apply too much pressure on that arm.. Did you want to change? Here,"
It was only when his fingers touched the hem of his shirt did Bakugo remember how dirty it was─ it was covered in filth and slightly torn due to hitting the ground. But it wasn't until he felt a cold hand vaguely touch his abdomen, did he finally snap out of reality. In a flash, he grabbed Shinso's hand and locked eyes with him, almost warning him, despite the fatigue that displayed clearly in his eyes.
"Stop. I can change on my own."
"Really? Go ahead. Show me."
What the hell? Bakugo furrowed his brows and narrowed his eyes, the tips of his fingers twitched slightly at that. He was still gripping his hand, but it loosened just a bit.
“That's what I thought."
Cheeky son of a─
Bakugo bit down on his tongue and looked away, letting go of the boy's hand and relaxing his shoulders. He hadn't realized just how tense he was, ever since Shinso walked in. The conversation ended between the two as the silence settled in. He allowed Hitoshi to change him out of his battered shirt, but.. Instead of being given a new shirt, he was rather wrapped with a blanket that was on his bed.
“What the hell? Where's my shirt─"
"Putting on a shirt would only hurt you, right? Don't strain your arm more than necessary. Now go to sleep."
He was forward and brisk, straight to the point. But his voice was so uncharacteristically soft. He knew─ how much Bakugo was hurting, even over a minor injury like this, and how much he was holding in. Enduring it. Shinso knew this, but for the sake of preserving the blonde's pride, he said nothing of it.
No, rather, he decided to care for him in silence. Staying by his side the entire night, watching him.
Reassuring himself, that he was safe.