Kirishima puffed in frustration as the doctors and their aids finally left him in peace. Since he'd woken up, they'd run a battery of tests on him to gauge what still needed to be done. As his stamina was shot from the severity of his injuries, Recovery Girl couldn't help him just yet. But even she couldn't heal the part of him that needed it most.
Though he'd never been declared officially brain-dead, a significant portion of his brain had gone dark after he'd stopped breathing, starved of oxygen on top of being bludgeoned with the weight of concrete and iron. Eri had managed to reverse a great deal of the damage… but not all of it, and each test he was given proved that unfortunate truth.
In the two days since her attempt to heal him, Kirishima had displayed an increasing variety of problems associated with hypoxia and brain damage. What was first dismissed as side effects of pain medication and disorientation from being in a coma were now clear indications of something worse… something likely permanent.
Even if Recovery Girl worked her magic on the rest of his body, he'd likely never be completely independent again, let alone fit to return to hero work. His coordination and balance were ruined, and his mood and personality changed periodically without warning or reason. The worst part, though, was that Kirishima couldn't get his quirk to activate without a cascade of muscle spasms throughout his still-wounded body.
"So unmanly…" He mumbled to himself, failing once again to hold his spoon steadily enough to get a square of Jello into his mouth. The jiggling cube tumbled from the utensil and bounced off the hospital tray, staining the starchy-white sheets with red streaks as it continued its descent to the floor.
Kirishima knew better than to try to get out of bed to pick it up, however, having already had multiple falls while attempting to stand on his own. He stared at the morsel spitefully instead, wishing it would simply disappear rather than sit there mocking him.
Hero work was dangerous. He knew that. He knew the risks and consequences. But Kirishima hadn't really considered himself someone who needed to worry… not after perfecting his hardening quirk to Unbreakable Mode, which was supposed to make him impossible to hurt.
Yet here Kirishima was, damaged, likely beyond repair, and only alive because another, arguably more necessary hero, readily offered up his life for just the barest hope of saving him. Hadn't he promised himself years ago that he'd never be useless again?
Bakugo and Midoriya had explained the 'complications' that had arisen when Eri was trying to reverse the wounds throughout his body. Kirishima knew that there was no way Aizawa would let Eri try again; he wouldn't risk her sanity for anyone.
Deep down, Kirishima knew that was the right approach. He was alive, thanks to Eri. It would take time and rehabilitation, but he'd still have the opportunity to live a fulfilling life even if he wasn't a hero anymore. But still, he couldn't help the selfish desire to risk everything to be 'normal' again.
It sickened him to think about it. Not only hurting his parents and friends by risking his life but also the welfare of a little girl just so that he might be a Pro again? That wasn't just unmanly… it was wrong.
Kirishima finally looked away from the partially splattered goop on the floor, pushing his tray away defeatedly.
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Bakugo leaned back and stared at the high ceiling above him, taking a moment to rest his weary body on the cushy new couch Midoriya had bought after blowing the old one into pieces. He'd been summoned to the residence earlier that afternoon to keep his friend company, an offer he'd readily accepted.
"Icy-Hot going to be joining us too?" Bakugo questioned with the barest hint of annoyance, hearing the light tapping of Midoriya's feet approaching. "He was cleared to come home, right?"
"Shoto already left. Fuyumi, Natsuo, and his mom really wanted to spend some time with him after what happened, and he still has a month of mandatory medical leave available, so he'll be gone awhile." Midoriya explained as he settled down beside his friend.
Bakugo squinted and peered over at Midoriya, searching his face. "So, what, am I just a stand-in for the Peppermint Prince?"
Midoriya feigned contempt but could hardly contain his smile at Bakugo's playful tone. "No, we never had our scary movie night and you promised I'd never sleep again afterward. I had to have you over just to prove you wrong."
Bakugo chuckled lightly, though a twinge of sadness was also mixed in. He'd always preferred action movies; the bigger the explosions, the better, in his not-so-humble opinion. It was actually Kirishima who had gotten him hooked on horror films.
The redhead had badgered him constantly about how manly a person would have to be to withstand the genre until Bakugo had finally given in. In fact, many of his fondest memories of Kirishima centered around them chilling after a hard day's work, watching one cheesy film after another, and pointing out the clichés. Bakugo had taken those nights for granted; he knew that now. Even though Kirishima had come back from the brink of death, there was a clear change in him as the days passed.
The doctors said it could be from brain damage; personality changes were common in these types of injuries. Maybe he was just struggling to adjust to the knowledge that the future he'd envisioned for himself was gone now, and his upbeat attitude would bounce back after a while. Ultimately, though, it didn't matter what was causing the drastic shift. It was there, and Bakugo couldn't do anything about it.
"What is it?" Midoriya questioned, worriedly turning to Bakugo.
"Eh, just sore, Deku…" Bakugo lied, refusing to bring down the mood when it seemed Midoriya was relatively stable for the first time since this storm hit them. "So don't jump on me when you get scared like you used to when we were kids. My ass is pure muscle, and I don't need that landing on top of me while I'm in your tiny little body."
Midoriya could tell Bakugo wasn't entirely truthful but decided not to press the issue for now. They'd both been through the wringer emotionally, and Todoroki had always told him to take a break and let everything go. Now was as good a time as any, he supposed.
"Yeah, yeah." Midoriya snorted, rolling his eyes as he handed over the remote for Bakugo to pick the movie. "I've been hit by a literal train before, but your ass is what will finally do my body in, right?"
Bakugo grinned broadly, giving an obvious leering gaze at the body he used to inhabit. "Damn straight, Deku. Now get ready; we've got a full docket tonight."
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Bakugo was caught somewhere between smug satisfaction and heart-fluttering nervousness. Midoriya had only made it halfway through the first movie before he'd begun slowly shifting from his couch cushion into Bakugo's, pressing himself closer and closer to his friend with each jump scare.
By this point, Midoriya was practically glued to Bakugo's side and had somewhat slid his legs into the other hero's lap, head barely peeking out of the blanket they'd started sharing. Bakugo hadn't been entirely untruthful earlier when he'd said he was sore, and he wasn't lying about his original body being all muscle. But the ache in his borrowed body was well worth it, in his opinion.
He felt Midoriya begin tensing as the movie's music wound up towards a potential scare, the boy eventually giving in and twisting his head into Bakugo's shoulder to hide. Bakugo gulped silently from the movement, his heart beating more forcefully. Looking down at the curled ball of a person practically in his lap, he wondered if he should take the bold approach he usually would.
The idea that Midoriya loved someone else was still gnawing at the back of his mind, but Bakugo couldn't help but feel hope in knowing that this mystery person didn't love Midoriya back. That gave him a chance, didn't it?
"Fuck this." He mentally scolded, hating that his confidence was always shaken by simply being near Midoriya. "Besides," he internally argued, "this is what scary movies are actually for, aren't they? To cuddle up next to someone and hold them close?"
His decision made, Bakugo squirmed slightly, pulling his arm from his friend's grip until he was able to swing it up and out, wrapping the scarred appendage firmly around Midoriya. He waited with bated breath for Midoriya to do something—anything to give him some hint as to how to proceed from there. The moment Bakugo had moved, Midoriya had simply frozen in place, not even reacting to the jump scare that flashed across the large TV screen.
"W-was I… hurting your arm?" Midoriya mumbled quietly, still rigid in his scrunched posture.
"Nope." Bakugo hummed back, using all his willpower to keep his voice from shaking. He withdrew his other arm from its resting place, carefully slipping it under the blanket and Midoriya's legs before lifting him enough to place him directly in his lap.
Again, he waited for Midoriya to react. The younger pro still hadn't relaxed, but he hadn't made any attempt to move away either, clearly unsure how to handle the somewhat sudden intimacy of how he was being held.
Time ticked by so slowly that Bakugo was certain he'd go insane soon. Sweat began to bead across his forehead from the fear of having pushed things way too far, like always. They were just getting back to being friends again, after all.
"I thought you told me not to get in your lap like when we were kids…" he finally heard, the words hushed and uncertain.
Licking his quickly drying lips, Bakugo swallowed thickly once more. "Tsk…" he scoffed, the attempt at confidence sounding far more pitiful than he'd intended. "I said don't jump on top of me, nerd. There's a difference."
It wasn't lost on Bakugo that Midoriya had yet to fully release the tension in his muscles, but the strain that had been present before had lessened to some degree. If he could just find the right thing to say or do… Literally, everything else he attempted, Bakugo excelled at, but intimacy? That damn Candy-Cane asshat probably had more skill than he did.
"Er, uh…I mean, I don't mind you on top of me—or, uh, fuck." Bakugo continued choppily, each blunder making it harder to keep his tongue moving. "Deku, you know what the hell I'm trying to say."
Apparently, humiliating himself was exactly what was needed because there was soon a distinct rhythmic thrum of laughter against his chest, each muffled giggle heating his already burning cheeks further.
"AH? What the hell's so funny, ya' damn nerd?" Bakugo huffed in feigned annoyance. "Just shut it and watch the movie."
Finally, Midoriya melted into the embrace, though he didn't turn his head back towards the TV. Instead, Bakugo felt him lean more deeply into his chest, forehead finding a perfect place to rest in the crook of his neck.
"I've missed this, Kacchan…" Midoriya whispered nostalgically, "I've missed you."
Bakugo hummed in complete agreement, cuddling his secret love as closely as he could. "Yeah, Izuku… I've missed you too." "More than you know."