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Shoto was a creature of habit.
He'd always been an early riser, it had practically been ingrained into him really. Shoto got up before the birds chirped, when heavy, colorful ribbons from sunrise were still littering the sky, when the world itself was mostly still in slumber or scrubbing the sleep from its eyes. Back when he had lived with his parents, it had been for the sake of training, he had to wake up when his father did, pour his every ounce of effort into mastering his quirk, and by the time noon would roll around he'd already be exhausted. The early rising had been a habit he'd maintained in UA as well, prying himself out of the comfort of bed well before most of his classmates did to give his mind a bit of peace and quiet, often tagging along on early morning runs with Izuku or training sessions with Katsuki. And nowadays, it was just routine, really. He took the early morning patrol cause he knew most others at his agency despised it, he got up early on his days off to curl up on the couch with a cup of tea and rewatch the All Might cartoons he used to watch with his mom when he was small, and on those rare occasions he could get Eiirou up early as well they'd have their little gym dates together.
He liked his routine, he liked his quiet mornings, he liked his peaceful time before the rest of the world woke.
Which was part of the (but sadly far from the main-) reason his chest was filled with a heavy, uncomfortable weight even as he opened his eyes for the first time that day.
"Mmm…fuck…" Shoto couldn't help but groan as sunlight from the window seeped into his eyes, the poor man instinctively rolling over and curling in on himself, drawing the blankets closer like a defensive cocoon. Horribly, he could already feel his temples throbbing despite being freshly awakened, and that familiar, dreaded, unshakable tiredness was clinging to his bones, the kind that made him feel like his skeleton was made of iron but his skin was made of paper. It was just….too much effort to hold himself up, hold himself together even, and the pain building in his temples only made that impossibly worse.
Coping as best he could with the brightness of the light burning his eyes, Shoto squinted, looking over at the alarm clock on Eijirou's bedside table. He would have really enjoyed having his cozy, quiet morning, but as the time stared back at him, he was well aware that was long gone.
12pm
He sighed, pressing his face into the pillow.
He was being unnecessarily hard on himself, he knew that, was scolding himself for it internally even (that little unshakeable, internal voice of reason in his head, which somehow always had the sweetness of Fuyumi and Eijirou, the sternness of Katsuki and Aizawa, and the determination of All Might and Izuku), but it was hard to not be a little disappointed in himself. He hated being like this, being pulled down by something, not being able to perform to the standard he held himself to in his head. Even disregarding the years his father had spent shaping him to crave nothing but success, he also just felt the unshakeable burden of the level of greatness he had reached. He was the number two pro hero, a monolith in Japan, how could he just…have an off day? How could he struggle with unshakeable fatigue of all things? How could he be bed-bound by the same body he fought villains and rescued civilians with?
It was…dread inducing, really.
Sluggishly, and taking far longer with far more effort then he wanted to admit, Shoto pushed himself to sit up, shaking just a little as he did. He ran a tired hand through his hair, looking around the room as he tried to gather his thoughts as best he could.
Eijirou wasn't there, but the soft noises (mostly hums and the quiet clattering of pots and pans) from the kitchen was indication enough for Shoto to know the other man was up and awake (and if Shoto fought hard enough and wracked his brain through his hellish headache he could vaguely remember when the other man had gotten out of bed a few hours earlier, mostly because it had stirred Shoto himself awake as he pouted over having his manly body pillow removed. He'd tried himself to sit up with Kirishima, knowing the the man was probably going for a light workout, but the moment Kirishima saw the exhaustion written across his face he'd coaxed Shoto into laying back down. "Shhh, your hurting, baby. Why don't you just lay down for a bit? I'll be back in a bit and come get you up with some tea, ok? I think we still have some of that tea from Yaomomo in the cabinet." "Mmm…the nice tea?" Shoto questioned, making Kirishima giggle, "Yeah, the nice tea."). Almost immediately, the desire to crawl out of bed to be with his boyfriend filled Shoto's chest, but the deep-rooted exhaustion he felt all but locked him in place. He stared down at the blanket pooled around his waist, running his fingers across the soft, delicate fabric.
He hated being like this really, even just attempting to articulate it felt exhausting. He'd never even really tried to till his second year at UA when Aizawa pulled him aside. He'd noticed the little things most overlooked; the way Shoto would lean on walls or hold onto railings desperately some days, his occasional habit of showing up late to class and training despite his love of having a precise schedule, the heavy eyebags that occasionally rivaled his teachers own. Shoto was no stranger to the idea he was disabled, the permanent haze covering his left eye had him covered there, but the idea that not everyone was else was like this, not haunted by a constant, unavoidable fatigue, yeah it was a little…surprising. Since then it had grown easier to cope with, his friends were there, they never judged him for it and were always prepared to accommodate in whatever way Shoto needed. He ran his own agency, had the luxury many didn't of a decently flexible schedule so he could rest during flare ups. And well…he had Eijirou. Bright, beautiful, kind, and patient Eijirou, ready to drop anything and everything to pick Shoto up even if all his energy was zapped out of nowhere.
It made him feel guilty almost sometimes. Eijirou was nothing if not a constantly bouncing, living ball of sunshine and energy, and it weighed on Shoto to know he sometimes might be holding that back. He didn't like the idea that Eijirou would have to slow down for him to catch up, or dim himself so Shoto didn't get overwhelmed. Eijirou never complained, sure, but Shoto swore that man could smile and laugh through a damn firestorm if he wanted to. Shoto just…didn't wanna weigh Eijirou down, and noting he felt like he was holding himself back sometimes he was just…scared.
He ran a heavy, tired hand down his stressed face. Neither him nor Eijirou had work today, thank fuck, but he'd rather not spend the one miracle of a day that him and Eijirou actually had free time together rotting in bed and being eaten alive by his own thoughts.
So, after what Shoto would never admit was an embarrassing amount of time taking deep breaths and mentally preparing himself, he pushed himself off the bed and onto his two shaky feet, hand flat against the wall for support.
One obstacle down…
(Fuck, he was a fully grown adult pro-hero. He'd saved people from hostages, he'd fought villains the size of Kaijus. He went to war at fifteen! How was his own body a worse fight then all of that?)
Luckily, it didn't take long for Shoto to shuffle over to the closet from there, his body only vaguely trying to drag him down in protest as he pushed open the wardrobe doors. One of the best things to come from moving in with Eijirou was the shared closet space. Shoto wasn't a small guy by any means, he'd beefed up quite a bit over the course of his late highschool early pro-hero career, but it still had nothing on the wall of a man his partner had grown into. Back in UA him and Eijirou had been more or less the same height, but the other man had shot past him rather fast, and now stood a good half a head or so over Shoto (not that he was complaining, it meant Eijirou barely had to tilt his face down to press a kiss to Shoto's forehead). Eijirou's fondness for the gym had also only grown with age, so his clothes were some of the only things Shoto wore that still felt somewhat baggy and comfortable on him despite his own toned physique. Maybe it was strange to say, but being around Eijirou made Shoto feel like he was…small in some ways, like he could just lean into the indulgence of being the protected and not the protecter for once. It was refreshing, really, and healed some deep, tender, and sore parts of Shoto's heart.
Unconsciously, Shoto's hands ran across the familiar fabric of Eijirou shirts and hoodies, each of which he'd probably folded a hundred times at this point. Eventually, he settled on one, a black sweatshirt with Eijirou and Denki's silhouettes on the front and their hero names scrawled across the back. It'd been one of the first pieces of merch Eijirou had gotten to make with one of his friends, and Shoto still remembered just how smiley his lover had been in all the promo photos for the little clothing line. The pure, genuine joy that radiated off of Eijirou after the little collaboration went public was precious to Shoto. Nowadays, the sweatshirt had been worn to hell and back, with the design composed of cracking vinyl and the vibrant black dulled in the wash, but Shoto didn't care. Just holding the thing made him feel a little more comforted, and the moment he slipped it on, realizing the scent of Eijirou's aftershave was still clinging to the collar of it even after the last wash- yeah, Shoto was finally feeling some of the stress slip off his shoulders.
His brain may have been irrationally loud, and his body may have been fighting him, but…there was some good. Good that made fighting his way out of bed worth it…
Eyelids and feet still heavy, Shoto took his time making it out of the bedroom, slow and steady as he eventually padded his way into the hallway, the hardwood cool beneath his feet. He was starting to feel a little more generally awake now, which was nice, but he still dreaded the idea of having to carry around this exhaustion for the rest of the day.
As he leaned in the doorway of where the hallway lead into the kitchen and dining room though, he peered out at a sight that left his heart fluttering in his chest. Stood there, by the stove, with a kettle warming in front of him, was Eijirou. If Shoto had to guess the other man must've gotten back from the gym just a little while ago, as Eijirou was dressed comfortably: red hair thrown up into a messy manbun, a black tanktop over his torso, and a pair of gray sweats that suspiciously looked like Shoto's own (noting how they barely reached Eijirou's ankles and were tight around the calves) covering his legs. It was a soft side of Eijirou no one else got to see nowadays, not the lively, bright, hyper-active "Red Riot" the public got, not the warm and comedic "Kirishima" 1-A got. No, this was Eijirou, Shoto's Eijirou, soft, doting, warm, and sensitive yet strong. It was, in perhaps Shoto's very biased opinion, the best version of Eijirou, or at least his favorite.
While lost casually ogling his partner though, Shoto realized the other man was on the phone with someone, speaker on as it sat casually on the counter top beside the stove, allowing Shoto to hear both sides of the quiet conversation.
"So um- compression? Heat, but not too much? And um- dig around and see if we have one of those braces for his wrists?" Kirishma asked, voice twinged with that subtly down-turned tone it got whenever he was focusing hard on remembering something (even just that tone alone had Shoto smiling as he imagined the slight wrinkle of focus between the brows Eijirou must be sporting). His words though confused Shoto slightly, as he instinctively strained his ears to listen a little more intently.
"Yup! That's what I've always found helps, especially if my joints are flaring up or I'm just super sore." Izuku's distinctive voice called out from the phone's speaker, "You said it's mostly just fatigue he's dealing with though, right? Denki has some bad episodes of that after overclocking his quirk. We do our best to turn it into some us time, movie night, nap dates, snuggles and co-op games, that kinda thing!"
Eijirou hummed thoughtfully in response to Izuku's words, "Yeah, his fatigue's the main thing, but he has some pain flare-ups every now and then and I just feel bad when I don't know how to help, ya know..?" He explained, fidgeting with a strand of hair that had escaped his hair tie. And suddenly, Shoto realized what this conversation was about-
They were talking about him.
Shoto wasn't quite sure if he felt embarrassed, guilty, or flattered.
"I've been wanting to find more stuff for us to do together when's really fatigued, cause I love him, I want to take care of him, but sometimes…I don't know, I guess I'm just scared he thinks he's burdening me or something by not feeling well, or by wanting me to be there for him even when's not his usual self, even after I tell him I love him no matter what..." Kirishima murmured, earning a sympathetic hum from Izuku.
Yet again, a cocktail of emotions Shoto couldn't quite put a name to flared in his chest, as he pressed his lips together, trying to restrain himself from saying anything and ruining the moment.
"It's…hard sometimes to feel like you aren't bother someone, or holding them back, when you have days like that…" Izuku said, voice soft and understanding, "You sadly can't control the way he thinks though, just…be there for him, remind him you always will be, love him and show him that love isn't going anywhere no matter how hard the days get."
Eijirou let out a soft laugh, "You are…way too good at this kinda thing, man." He said, earning an amused laugh from Izuku end.
"Eh, all the inspirational speeches in highschool helped. Plus, I've got people around me now who remind me the same things whenever my head's too loud." From Izuku's end of the call then rung out what seemed to be the sound of a door opening, and a muffled versions of Denki's familiar, bubbly voice calling out a chain of the most atrocious, cavity-inducing, cliche pet names Shoto knew for a fact made Izuku smile (he couldn't make out many of them, but "honeybun" "babycakes" and "cupcake" were definitely in there).
"Oh! Denks just got back from patrol. I'm gotta go Kiri, text me how Shoto's doing though!!"
"You're all good, man! Tell Denks I saw that take down he did on that robbery this morning, super manly!!" Eijirou called back in response, the two of them exchanging final goodbyes before the call was cut, the gentle silence of the afternoon filling the kitchen again.
The words from the little exchange echoed through Shoto's mind again though, filling his tired eyes with something soft. Something about hearing Eijirou say that, say that he was worried over Shoto feeling loved, trying to learn how to help Shoto cope with his body (he didn't get pain flare ups very often, not nearly as frequently as someone like Izuku or Katsuki, but every now and then they appeared when his fatigue worsened or when he got dinged around just the right way during a mission to agitate an old injury. And those days- fuck, being stuck in bed with his body aching and immovable- they were hellish honestly.), wanting to make Shoto feel loved in anyway possible even when Shoto felt guilty he was there…it left Shoto's eyes watering slightly.
How the fuck did he end up with this man? With someone who adored him to the ends of the Earth and back?
Without even thinking about the exhaustion weighing down his feet, Shoto pushed himself off the doorframe and into the kitchen, only having to take a few steps before he was exactly where he wanted to be: behind Eijirou, arms wrapping themselves around the other man's waist, and chin hooked over the other man's shoulder. Noting the way Eijirou didn't jump in response to the touch, and even let out a soft, fond huff, Shoto had a feeling he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
"Hey baby…" Eijirou said in that soft, domestic tone that instantly had Shoto melting. Just hearing that simple, soft, cliche pet name made so many of those insecure thoughts in his head just…completely disappear.
Eijirou then softly turned around in Shoto's arms, and fuck, Shoto was never get over the way those ruby red eyes just locked directly onto him, like he was the center of Eijirou's damn universe. His arms stayed loosely around Eijirou's waist as Eijirou's own fell right into place around Shoto's neck.
"You get yourself out of bed? I'm proud of you, love. You didn't have to though, I was gonna bring you lunch- or um, I guess breakfast for you." Eijirou commented softly, treading his fingers through the hair at the base of Shoto's neck and petting it softly. Almost instinctively, Shoto felt himself leaning into the touch softly, heavy eyelids falling shut for a moment as he let himself simply relax in his partner's arms.
"Mm, I know, I know. Heard you in the kitchen though and wanted to come over…" Shoto stated with a soft shrug, earning a soft, fond huff from Eijirou.
"Yeah, I could tell you were lingering in the doorway a bit, little stalker." Eijirou scolded playfully, moving one of his hands to caress and squeeze Shoto's face softly. It was an oddly specific thing about Eijirou that Shoto adored, how tactical he was. Maybe it had something to do with growing up and how soft, fond, affectionate touch felt so rationed in his household, but from the moment Shoto realized how touchy of a person Eijirou was, he was hooked on it. Even in their awkward early days of puppy-love and barley hidden crushes, Shoto couldn't help but shamelessly indulge in every hug, pat, or soft caress Eijirou would give him. They were pure, unfiltered comfort to him, really. And nowadays, when fatigued like this, Eijirou's arms were his go-to place to try and ease that tension and tiredness away.
A soft, thoughtful hum escaped Shoto's lips. He was well aware Eijirou probably could tell he'd been lingering there in the background during the end of his chat with Izuku, he wasn't exactly attempting to hide his footsteps, and Eijirou had a bit of a habit of listening out for him to figure out when Shoto would be getting up on days like this. Still though, it flustered Shoto just a little to be called out like that. "Mm, you and Midoriya were talking, didn't wanna interrupt anything." He explained, shrugging softly.
Eijirou simply shook his head in response, "As if me or Midoriya would ever complain about you of all people bothering us." He said sweetly, pressing a quick kiss to the crown of Shoto's head. "You doing good though, sweetheart? I was being serious when I said you didn't have to get out of bed, you could've just texted me you were up."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay…" Shoto reassured, forcing his eyelids open yet again to stare up at his partner fondly, "Able to stand and stuff, least for now."
"That's good, dove." Eijirou said, tone warm and words earnest. Shoto wasn't oblivious though to the way Eijirou's arms held him a little tighter, a touch more protective, as if Shoto could've told him at any moment that that changed, that he very much wasn't in a state to stand anymore, and Eijirou would scoop him up into his arms without hesitation.
For a moment a soft, comfortable silence fell over the two of them, and it felt as if the world simply stood still. It was just them, there together in their cozy, lived in kitchen (something about that especially felt so damn special to Shoto. This kitchen was his and Eijirou's; the hand-towels were red so they could use them when dying Eijirou's hair and the stains wouldn't show, the mugs had cat designs on them cause they made Shoto smile, and there was a little basket of protein bars and instant noodles on the counter cause those were their things, their comfort snacks and they were always well stocked. All of that just felt incredibly…special to Shoto, homely even.), dressed in each other's clothes, holding one another as if they were all that mattered. Sure, Shoto was exhausted, but he was safe, calm, happy, home. He was allowed to not have to fight against it, to be vulnerable, and he knew Eijirou would still adore him, still see him as strong.
The quiet was only interrupted when Eijirou hummed warmly, "I stopped by that one restaurant on the way home from the gym, you know, the one that's got soba half off on Thursdays?"
The mention of one of Shoto's favorite restaurants had him perking up almost instantly, "Mmm, love that place…" He said with a smile, fighting off the soft lull of sleep his tried body and Eijirou's warm arms threatened to drag him into. He knew the little hole in the wall place Eijirou was mentioning like the back of his hand. From the moment he'd graduated and stepped out into the "real hero world" so to speak, going there after long patrols on Thursdays had always been a little ritual of his. His favorite food, half-off and cheap, it'd been a life saver really when he was helping pitch in to pay for Izuku hero suit. Eventually, Eijirou became a little part of that routine as well, meeting Shoto there on day's off or persuading (well…begging-) Katsuki to schedule his breaks in a way that would let him spend the hour eating with Shoto. "Wish it wasn't Saturday…" Shoto murmured, that sudden craving for that cozy, midweek routine washing over him.
Eijirou raised an eyebrow playfully, "Shoto, baby-" unable to help himself, he cut through his own statement with a soft laugh, "You know we can buy soba from there even if it isn't half off, right?"
Of course, Shoto did know that, it made logical sense, but again, he was nothing if not someone that adored routine and habit. So the idea that Eijirou had gone out of his way, on a day that was their designated special day to get food- impossible by the rules of Shoto's flawless logic.
"Blasphemy." Shoto said bluntly, earning a hearty, barked out laugh from Eijirou, with him pulling Shoto into an impossibly tighter hug almost immediately.
"There's some on the counter for us, cutie." Eijirou explained, nodding over to a small plastic bag off to the side.
It was the sight of that little plastic bag that made a few things click in Shoto's mind: the call with Izuku, his favorite take-out, the kettle on the stovetop and the promise this morning of the "nice tea" from Momo… Shoto's gaze flickered over to their living room, a warmth building in his chest as all the little details began making sense inside his head.
And the moment he saw the living room it made sense.
The couch decorated in softest pillows and blankets from the closet, a documentary they'd started the other day on the TV screen, plates and chopsticks set up on coffee table-
Before Shoto could even attempt to form words through the tidal-wave of adoration that was washing over him, Eijirou gently cupped the side of his face, tilting it just a little so their eyes would meet yet again."You wanna curl up on the couch and have a lazy day, love? A little TLC?" He suggested.
Unable to help himself, Shoto laughed softly, internally wondering why Eijirou even bothered phrasing that like a question, cause why, why would Shoto ever so no to an offer like that?
So, filled with enough happiness to make Shoto almost forget the fatigue plaguing him, he immediately nodded, the smile on his face practically unshakable. "I'd love that, Ei."
Shoto then swallowed thickly, emotion still swelling in his chest, "Thank you, for…everything."
Eijirou shook his head immediately, "You don't need to thank me, baby." He pressed a quick kiss to Shoto's lips, soft, loving, and familiar. "It's just part of loving you."