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You wake with a jolt when you hear something heavy drop on the floor. Quickly, your hands find purchase on the mattress beneath you, readying yourself to face your intruder-
Only for your arms to buckle in relief when you see none other than your partner leaning against your door frame, having dropped his utility belt, the familiar green cloud of enervation surrounding him.
You sag greatly, nearly collapsing back into bed. With a heavy sigh you bring the ball of your hand up to rub the sleep from your eyes. "Shit, Sho..." You whisper, trying to reign in your frustration.
The man before you grumbles some sort of apology, not looking at you as he slips off his capture weapon, dropping it on the floor without another thought. He stands caved in on himself, muscles stiff as he rolls his shoulders. You don't miss the bruise circling his eye as he zeroes in on the bed. It had been a bad night it seems.
Knowing exactly what he was thinking, you spring out of bed, immediately positioning yourself between him and the bed, fixing your glare upon his before he can even make it halfway across the room.
"You know the rule-"
He sighs your name, blood orange waves intermingling with the green cloud. His voice dry with a mix of exhaustion and frustration as he tries to step around you.
You anticipate it, quickly moving in step with him to keep the bed blocked. Your voice firm as you stare up at him, "You know you'll feel even worse in the morning if you don’t."
You hold his glare, watching the range of colors merge and shift within that green cloudy haze just outside your periphery. You have no doubt that your eyes share the ever shifting emotions flitting through you as you try to stand your ground.
You know full well that theoretically he could easily swipe around you and collapse on your bed if he really wanted to. You’re convinced he’s contemplating it if the bright streak of yellow was anything to go by, but eventually, he lets out a heavy sigh and submits, a cool pink seeping out of him.
You nod. "Alright, you know the drill."
A hand on his shoulder turns him around, and you guide both of you towards the bathroom door.
Once inside, you step around Shouta and start the bath, quickly setting it to let the cold water run out.
As you stand, Shouta begins to strip. You have half a mind to help him but are quickly deterred when green continues to thrum around him. You leave him to his own, knowing he can handle it.
Inside the laundry room sits a chest freezer pressed against the washer. Flipping its lid back, you heave three large bags of ice out of its depths before sealing it shut. With a huff, you adjust two of the bags in your arm, grabbing the last one with your free hand, ignoring how the cold starts to dampen your shirt, reasoning that it’ll dry before you know it.
Lugging everything back into the bathroom, you see you were right about letting Shouta help himself, however, all thoughts quickly slip away at the sight of him bare in front of the mirror.
Once upon a time, you would find yourself in a frenzy at the sight of blood and lashes that cut a little too deeply. But the sight of wounds no longer shocks you as it did years ago, but that doesn't mean you still don't manage to falter seeing him so.
His spot from against the marble counter allows you a full view of his front and back. Muscle strain and hematomas are already blooming deep blues and purples across his form. A footprint lays heavily against his chest, with the length of, what looks to be a bat stretched across his back.
A really bad night then.
Shouta hums slowly in agreement to your statement, and that’s when you realize you had spoken aloud. Not only that, but you were staring. Quickly busing yourself,you move around him to the bathtub.
“I bet the other guy looks worse,” you humor, dropping the bags on the tile, the ice within crunches on impact.
When he makes a sound of acknowledgement but nothing else you understand just how bad of a night it had been. No wonder he had just wanted to go to bed.
The bags are ripped open, and their ice poured into the steel tub one after the other. When all have been emptied, you stick your arm down to your elbow and swirl around the ice, working to break up the larger chunks. Once it’s all broken up, you pull yourself up and turn to Shouta who stands behind you. A smile tugs at your lips at the sight of lavender slowly swirling in with the green.
Silently, you take his side, your arm gently wrapping around his waist as you help guide him into the tub. You can feel the flood of emotions from Shouta as he slowly settles into the water. Shock, pain, discomfort, stress, frustration - everything he feels passes through you. All the while a slew of muddy colors flash through the air above him.
With every negative emotion he supplies, you return it with your own much more warming ones. Pride, joy, contentedness, peace, and love. With your touch, you use your quirk to try and distract him from the harsh sting the ice always brings.
A tight hiss leaves the man followed by a haggard breath as his body submerged beneath the water. You stay by his side, a hand on his arm, ignoring the bright orange malaise surrounding him trying to bring out that lavender she always loved.
Eventually, his body does adjust, his breathing evens, and his grip on the tub relaxes as he eases himself back against the brim. The orange around him turned to a dusty periwinkle. You let go with a sigh. It’s good enough for now.
He slides down the basin, allowing the water to pass over his shoulders and halfway up his neck. The lapis ebbs into the air slow and steady, a deep contrast to the thrumming emerald from before.
You reach a hand out and push back the hair from his face, he merely only opens his eyes to watch you fiddle with his dark locks.
Pulling away your hand, you lean your cheek against your arms perched on the top of the rim and look at him. You both watch each other for a moment, no doubt watching each other’s colors subtly shift and change. You smile when your adoration eventually turns his periwinkle to lavender.
“..I’m gonna go get everything ready, can you handle being by yourself for a bit?”
He stares at you, peach flickering through his cloud, you roll your eyes.
“Okay, okay, I’ll go.” You mutter, pulling yourself to stand. With a gentle ruffle of his hair, you leave him be, quietly collecting his costume before exiting.
Close to 10 minutes have passed when you come back into the bathroom; in your arms, you carry in freshly warmed sweats and towels. The sweats find their place on the counter while the towels rest on the top of the toilet tank. You can’t help but smile at the contented periwinkle that waves off him, you almost feel bad for plucking him out.
“Ooookay, bud. Time to get out.” You sing softly, reaching down into the tub to release the plug.
He starts with a small jolt, as if he has been slowly falling asleep when you walk in. With how badly he had been roughed up you wouldn’t blame him if he had been.
As he stands you’re there along the way, guiding him carefully over and out of the tub. Only once he’s on the carpeted mat do you let go to grab the first towel on the stack.
“It’s nice and warm~” you purr, draping the towel over his shoulders. When he doesn’t grab the edges of it, however, you scoff.
“You want me to dry you off?”
He doesn’t say anything, but the lazy grin on his face tells you everything. You huff with a smile and get a better grip on the towel.
“You’re lucky I’m in a babying mood tonight,” is all you say before you make work to dry him off. But you both know that you would do this for him regardless.
Once dry, you help him into his sweats and socks that are luckily still very warm when he slips into them. Though he doesn’t say anything, the rich amethyst thrumming off him tells you his appreciation for your forethought.
With the spare towel, you do your best to gently squeeze and rub as much moisture as you can form his hair. You would rather he not go to bed with wet hair but you aren’t going to push him and keep him from sleeping any longer.
Dressed and dry, the two of you finally leave the bathroom. With towels bundled in your arm, you quickly fish a juice pouch from your pocket and hand it to him. He takes it from you and almost greedily gulps it down. You're fortunate enough that he doesn’t need a steely gaze to get him to drink it. But you do stay until he’s finished gulping it down, taking the empty pouch with you as you go to toss the towels into the washer.
By the time you come back into the room, Shouta has already wrapped himself in the bed covers, periwinkle dispersing through the air. A tired smile pulls itself on your lips as you approach the bed, watching him nuzzled amongst the pillows and soft throws.
He feels your gaze and opens one eye to you, glaring at you softly as he gestures to the bed with his head. A laugh tumbled from your lips at this and you’re more than happy to oblige him.
Turning off the lights you pull back the covers on your side and quickly settle in. With a shiver and a shake you smile and sigh at the warmth of the covers. As you start to nuzzle into the duvet, Shouta wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you flush to his chest.
His lips find your jaw and press a soft kiss into it. Love pouring out from him through your touch, allowing you to feel all the appreciation, gratitude and devotion he quietly feels for you.
As you settle into him, pulling the covers closer to the two of you, you send it right back to him. Letting him know just how much you love him too.