He'd made up the bed; he'd had a straight-forward patrol and a decent (non-jelly-packet) dinner. And still, Aizawa couldn't sleep—not with the empty space in the bed next to him.
It was foolish, illogical. They'd been together only a few days; slept in the same bed together only once. And yet, the pro hero felt a vigilante-shaped hole in his heart when they were apart.
Aizawa tossed to the side in bed, disappointed to see the clock still hadn't passed midnight. He was sure this need to be around the boy continuously would ease the longer they were together. But for now, so early in their relationship, the older man felt Izuku's absence acutely.
A cat jumped up onto his chest. From the frizzy fur, he could tell it was 'Paw-peteer,' named after his mentee Shinsou's hero persona. Now that Aizawa knew that Izuku had not only heard of but was an actual fan of Puppeteer, he grew even more committed to introducing the two.
Softly petting the purring cat, Aizawa looked at the twin suits hanging in their closet—Izuku's had been delivered to his office earlier that afternoon. He couldn't wait to see the younger man, his fiancé, in the suit.
With that handsome mental image, Aizawa began to drift off finally, until...
A bang, a thud. The window being thrust open from the outside. A shadowy figure climbing through.
Aizawa was immediately, fully awake. Faster than should be possible, the pro hero grasped the first object found within his reach and threw it with deadly precision at the darkness-hidden body.
"Fuck." Izuku's strained voice registered that the soft slipper had met its mark.
"Izuku?" The older man groped around to switch on the lamp.
"Heyyy, 'Raser," the vigilante said from his position, still on the floor just underneath the window.
"One sec." With his fiancé's slurred words and use of his hero name, Aizawa grew more worried. His fears were found to be justified once he finally flooded the bedroom with soft light.
"When did you get a new vigilante suit?" A soft beat passed—one, two—before the pro hero
appeared to finally realize the suit wasn't a darker color than the normal teal-green one. No, Izuku's suit was saturated in enough blood as to appear nearly black.
"Shit." He sprung out of bed and rushed towards the younger man, stopping his hands once they were only inches away from Izuku's prone form. "You need a hospital."
"Nah, I can take care of this. Ooh ev'n better, you can help. Always weird doin' my own stitches; can never get th' angle right."
"I'm not giving you stitches."
"Sure y' are," Izuku said confidently, almost drunk with pain. "Help me t' the bathroom? First aid kit's on the top shelf in th' closet."
Once Aizawa had settled Izuku on the lid of the toilet, he lugged the enormous tub full of first aid supplies into the bathroom. Not seeing a better way to remove the suit to check for injuries without risking agitating those wounds, the pro hero also grabbed scissors from his pile of teacher supplies. With a silent apology to the small dazed man in front of him, Aizawa began to cut away the bloody suit.
A gasp from the hero brought Izuku's wandering attention back. "We're going to the hospital." "It's not that bad, just get the suture kit and—"
"Problem child. I can see bone peeking through." With gentle hands, Aizawa kept peeling the suit away, tossing its shredded remnants in the tub.
Izuku looked down at the broad slash over his rib. "Huh. That looks bad." The cut was bleeding only sluggishly, but would clearly need professional care and likely antibiotics to prevent infection.
"No shit." The pro hero started wetting a washcloth, looking to clean some more of the blood off so that he could check for additional cuts.
Luckily, other than scratches already scabbing over, horrifically skinned knees, and enough burgeoning bruises on Izuku's legs to make the pale skin a mottled purple, there were no injuries requiring medical treatment.
Aizawa grabbed butterfly closures from the first aid tub and closed the large cut as well as he could. "That should last until we can get to the hospital. Let me get you some clothes and we can drive there now."
But as the pro hero made to stand up, Izuku grabbed his arm and mumbled something unintelligible.
"What?"
"I don't have insurance." The tone was a mixture of shame and defiance.
After a moment's consideration, Aizawa wasn't surprised. A single business owner, financially stable but not well-off by any means, who likely wound up with a large number of unexplainable injuries. Of course Izuku would be accustomed to treating himself.
"Do you trust me?" the black-haired man asked. "I might have a plan."
"I always trust you." The blind faith the younger man had in him was staggering.
With a curt nod, the pro hero stood from where he was crouched in front of Izuku and headed back to the bedroom to grab his phone. He found the contact he was looking for and starting the call, holding the phone up to his ear as he rummaged for something the injured vigilant could comfortably wear.
"This is Eraserhead... yes, I'm well aware of what time it is. I'm calling in that favor." He heard bed springs squeak over the line as the other man muttered a dry fuck. "I need you to meet me in your office in 15 minutes... fine, 20... yeah. Okay. See you then."
He knew the young man in the bathroom overhead one side of the call, and was likely bursting with curiosity, but the trust between them meant Izuku wouldn't push for answers. Besides, the boy would get them soon enough.
After shrugging on his own jumpsuit, Aizawa returned to the bathroom and helped his fiancé into the comfortable sweatpants and button-up shirt he'd picked out—clothing the younger man was able to put on without stretching the tight skin across his ribs.
In moments, with the vigilante leaning heavily on him for support, Aizawa got the two of them into his car and started driving. Impulsively, remembering that he'd acquiesced to an additional five minutes for his contact to get to their office, Aizawa swerved to the side of the street, right in front of a konbini.
"I'll be right back."
Leaving the car running, he rushed into the store. Only a few minutes later, the pro hero came back out. A coffee and two jelly packets in one hand, a sports drink for Izuku in the other, and a few more purchases that had been shoved into his pocket. Only a couple more minutes and he was pulling in front of his destination.
Izuku looked over at him in confusion. "I thought we were going to see Recovery Girl at UA."
Shaking his head, Aizawa realized how the green-haired man might have come to that conclusion. "Between UA and my hero agency, I have top-of-the-line health insurance."
"Okay, and...?"
"It's expended to spouses—both the coverage and the no-questions-asked policy; that is, no questions beyond standard screenings for domestic violence and self-injury." That policy exemption had been put in place after the professional, and public, showdown between disgraced hero Endeavor and his oldest, villainous son.
"And that'll be great once we're married..." Izuku trailed off as he followed Aizawa's gesture and noticed the building they were parked at. "I know I've lost a decent amount of blood, but are you fucking with me right now?"