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Being a pro-hero, it should obviously go without saying that your job is already dangerous. Add teaching high schoolers to that, and now your job is all the more dangerous than it was before. Aizawa knew that. However, when your boyfriend is the one attacking you and your students; how is one meant to react?
It was a scary feeling. Loving and fearing one being at the same time. It's conflicting. The lines between lovers and enemies start to blur. Slowly, but surely, this relationship would break them. And they were fine with that. As long as they could cherish their few moments of peace in the present.
That's what Shōta originally thought, but it's hard to keep that same energy when his entire elbow was disintegrated by a certain someone. That and his entire face being slammed into concrete repeatedly do not make a great combo, for anyone wondering. He was so fortunate for recovery girl because he knew his face was entirely fucked up.
Well. He couldn't actually see his face, but from how everyone audibly seethed just looking at him really spoke volumes. Living on his own for the most part meant having to take care of himself, so he had to somehow manage to redo his bandaging while in a sling from his arm being broken. Shigaraki was one son of a bitch for doing that to him.
Ding! Dong!
Just as he cursed his entire partner's being, of course, his doorbell would ring. He never liked answering the door, but he already had taken his bandages off, so he wasn't exactly looking his best at the moment. Still, he stumbled out of the downstairs bathroom and into the living room. He peeked through his peephole even though he knew exactly who was at the door.
With an exhausted sigh, he unlocked his door and immediately turned away from the door, knowing good and well that he listened to the door unlock. It felt weird, but Shōta felt usually self-conscious knowing that Tomura was there. All he did was brief him a grumbled 'Hey' before he tried to shuffle off to the bathroom again.
"Wow.. You can't do any better than that for a greeting? Typical hero," Tomura mutters as he irritably scratches at his neck. It's so unsettling how audible it is when he scratches his skin, but Shōta never complains about it. Only tells him to stop itching, which he surprisingly wasn't doing. Not that Tomura was a brat or anything, but he could tell when he's not being paid any attention to.
He stalked behind him, following his every move to the bathroom, examining him like some unknown creature. The tired grunts of frustration were so apparent that it almost felt like the older was the one begging for attention. His face screwed up into a twisted smile, infatuated with the thought of Aizawa needing his help.
"You know, if you needed help, then you should have just– Oh. Wow." His previous smile vanished on its own. This was the first time he's seen his face post-USJ attack. Being a villain with his own homicidal tendencies, he wasn't exactly the type to feel bad about other people's misfortunes. He was lucky enough that he found someone who was the same way, minus wanting to kill people (which is lame in his own opinion).
Needless to say, he wasn't the touchy-feely type, sure. But the bit of empathy (or sympathy, not like he's knows the difference) that he did have could tell him that even Shōta felt a bit insecure about how he looked right now. Understandably because he did look like shit, but it was really all Tomura's doing of why he looked like that.
"We might just be the ugliest couple out right now." Aizawa couldn't deny the truth in that. It was such a bitter situation, but he couldn't help but laugh at Tomura's awkward attempt of a pick-me-up. Shigaraki awkwardly shuffled himself into the tiny bathroom, picking up his bandage roll.
"You could have told me I broke your face. I think making an old guy like you try to wrap his own face with only one arm is cruel and unusual punishment." Even though he's shit talking, he's not really sure how to wrap someone up. At least their face area.
"Maybe you should just put something on that and let your face breathe," he shrugs, already giving up on helping him. Aizawa slow blinks at him, rolling his dry eyes. "I wouldn't need to take such a suggestion had your Nomu not mercilessly attacked me," Shōta argues. He still does as he's suggested, though. Why waste all this time right now when he could just laze on his couch?
Aizawa exits the bathroom, his shadow of a boyfriend creeping behind him to follow suit and sit on the couch. "If it makes you feel any better," Tomura embarks, cutting their silence short to resume their conversation. "That Nomu that caved your face in; I electrocuted it as a punishment," Shigaraki divulged, patting Shōta's leg with all but his thumb.
"Nothing more romantic than that, huh?" queries the hero, who was definitely starting to get tired with how obnoxiously he yawned. Probably due to the pain killers. Leaning to Shigaraki, he lets their shoulders touch, moving down to properly use his shoulder as a resting stop.
"You're aware that you smell like shit, right?" The villain scratches his neck, his scowl being heard just from his tone of voice alone. "That's because I was serious about the Nomu.. They let off a disgusting smell when burnt." As off-putting as that information was, Shōta was all too tired to think about it too hard. His eyes were already shut by the time he got his next words out.
"Right. Just be out of my house before you make it smell like you." Both of them knew that wasn't going to happen, but Shigaraki hummed anyway, allowing him to get the rest he needs.
However, Shigaraki did smell a lot better when he woke up again. At the very least, he didn't stink up the place like he wanted. It was partial, but the severely injured areas on his face were wrapped up, too. That had to count for something, right?