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A night club with lights and loud music was not Aizawa Shouta’s choice of entertainment. Usually he avoided such places like they contained the plague. Yet tonight he found himself in a club because he didn’t want to be the kind of friend to not celebrate one of his friend’s good news. Even if he would prefer to try to make friends with the new stray cat living near his apartment building than go out to a night club.
Tonight it was just the three of them, as Tensei had patrol, to celebrate Hizashi getting his very own time slot at the radio station he worked at. All the time spent interning and being other radio host’s ‘bitch boy’ as Hizashi put it, plus all the hours put in for a podcast paid off. The radio station wanted to give Hizashi a time slot for his own show. Given it was not on the best of nights, Hizashi was still optimistic. He boasted it was only a matter of time before he got his own show on more than one night and was still aiming for his personal goal of having his own radio station that would double as his agency as well.
Shouta had put some effort into what he wore after some encouragement from his two friends. Which was some of his better civilian clothes, black jeans and a plain but still nice looking black button up top. Nemuri had insisted on doing his hair, keeping it simple by pulling back some of it into a messy but stylish little bun while the rest still fell to his shoulders loosely. She had insisted he not hide away behind his hair like he usually did. She had also wanted to give him a bit of eyeliner but he had drawn a line and no matter her pouting, he didn’t budge. He was already going to be out of his comfort zone as it was, he didn’t want any attention drawn to him. His intentions were to go and have some drinks, hopefully have some fun amongst too many strangers and make Hizashi’s night by going.
Perhaps they would have taken things to a bar to celebrate if Shouta truly dragged his feet though he didn’t want to spoil the evening either. Especially since they had seemed excited to try out a new place that had opened the month before.
Somehow the three of them all managed to have an evening off together, not busy with patrol, radio station stuff, working the odd job, or night classes. Usually when they got together on a off night, they’d go for drinks and dinner and then crash at one of their places, whichever one was closest. Tonight was only different because after dinner, they had gone to the club and likely would end up at Nemuri’s after because hers was the closest.
Once inside, they went and had a few drinks to have before anything else.
“To my radio show! It may not be on the best night, but progress! I’m going to woo them with my amazing and fan-fucking-tastic playlists!” Hizashi toasted with the whiskey shot he insisted they all have, a large excited grin on his face.
“Here here!” Nemuri added, clinking the little glass to Hizashi’s. She could match Hizashi’s extrovert energy better than Shouta in these environments.
Shouta added his own before tipping the shooter back, feeling the burn and smooth flavor of it, even if it made him cough slightly. He was more a cheap beer or sake kind of guy, though he could recognize that Hizashi often had good tastes. On the other hand, he’d not touch Nemuri’s concoctions with a ten foot pole if he didn’t want to be nursing a hangover for four days, having learned that lesson ages ago.
Hizashi beamed at them, excited and already starting to flush on his cheeks. It didn’t take long for them to want to go on the dance floor, Shouta staying behind with a beer in hand to linger in a dark corner to more or less people watch. A few songs later and going after another round of shots, they had rejoined him. Though instead of whiskey, it was tequila and Shouta grimaced from it.
“Come on Shou! Dance with us!” Hizashi slipped one of his arms through Shouta’s, leaning in on him with big pleading eyes. Like that would work on him.
“Yeah! Just one song!” Nemuri half shouted, weaving her arm around his other arm. When they ganged up on him, it was futile to deny them. It was easier to just go along and get whatever antics they wanted to do over with. It didn’t stop him from trying to not get dragged into the throng of gyrating bodies on the dance floor.
Shouta already was shaking his head no, he was never a dancer. It wasn’t his thing but a mix of alcohol and his friends eagerness to include him had him out on the dance floor with them with only some resistance. Somehow between the two of them, Shouta ended up being held and moved easily. The casual ease was surprising, moving along as Hizashi pulled him in close for an almost sensual move and then being spun into Nemuri’s arms were she swayed with him with her arms over his shoulders. It was fun and it wasn’t as bad as he had expected, perhaps because it was them he was with. Shouta stayed for more than one song, he did two. He’d never admit it out loud, even if the tipsy half grin on his face made it obvious, but it had been enjoyable. His friends’ energy could be intoxicating.
With a bit of effort, he left his friends on the dance floor to seek out a slightly quieter spot, the crowd getting to him despite the alcohol making the extra bodies tolerable.
It might have been the alcohol talking, but Shouta felt good and just the right amount of drunk to not be overly bothered by the strangers around him. He took up a post to watch others dance, catching glimpses of Hizashi and Nemuri, seeing them dance with elated expressions on their faces as one song bled into another. Their energy seemed endless and Shouta was content to watch them enjoy the evening for the time being.
A few minutes later, there was a pair of men who approached him, drawing his attention to them when they bracketed him at the bar. One of them in front of him and the other to the side more. They gave off jock and never grew up out of frat boy phase vibes. Maybe fuck boys who came from money. One had a faux hawk and the other had a stubby little ponytail.
“Hey handsome.” The one with the ponytail spoke up first, flashing what would have been a charming smile. Shouta took note the man had a tooth capped in silver. “My friend and I was wondering if you’d be interested in getting some drinks with us.”
And this was one of the reasons Shouta didn’t like coming out to clubs or over populated bars. Somehow he got hit on if he didn’t have Hizashi, Nemuri or Tensei as human buffers to keep the random Joe from bothering him. He wasn’t sure why he drew in anyone’s interest, he’s been told he often looked like a step up from being homeless by plenty of people. Villains. Cops. Even fellow heroes. He wore his jumpsuit more often than civilian clothes and he’d go days sometimes without running a brush through his hair or a razor over his stubble. He expected the near permanent dark circles under his eyes and scowl as a bonus deterrent. Alas, tonight he had made some effort to not look like he rolled out of bed after a double patrol and now he was getting unwanted attention.
“I’m not interested.” Shouta informed them, his face clearly showing blank disinterest. He was being polite at least.
“Oh come on.” The silver tooth guy attempted to give him pleading eyes, leaning in a bit, trying to be friendly and flirty, but coming off persistent and annoying to Shouta. “I’m Kimura and this is my friend Hirano.” The other man grinned at his introduction, but his eyes kept roaming over Shouta’s body like he was trying to use x-ray vision. “Your next drink is my treat!”
Probably neither of the men’s real names, not that he really cared. He wasn’t interested in whatever they were offering. A hook up most likely. How they pegged him as gay, he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t into random hook ups or strangers pretending to be familiar with him.
“I’ll pass.” Shouta half gritted out, moving away from the bar and the two men, thanking whoever that neither tried to physically stop him. He wasn’t above putting anyone on the floor for unwanted touching, yet tonight he didn’t want to cause a scene either. He just wanted to enjoy his drink and wait for his friends to tire themselves out before heading home.
He migrated away from that end of the bar and moved to the other, just to keep to the edges of the club. A part of him thought he should leave, to send a text to his friends that he went home, yet another part of him didn’t want to just disappear and make them worry either. Then there was the risk of being followed out if he wasn’t careful from Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb. Though he had lost track of them in the moving mass of club goers. He found another spot that allowed him to see Hizashi and Nemuri on the floor, the music pulsing enough to lull him after several minutes. Even got a new beer to nurse, though making a mental note that he’d get a water next. Someone was going to have be somewhat coherent when it was time for them to leave and get to Nemuri’s that evening.
Shouta didn’t think much of it when someone bumped into him, too quick to even to get a apology or for him to make sure someone hadn’t done a drunken face plant. As there was no one on the floor, Shouta went back to his drink, brushing the moment off.
A few moments later and the flashing lights became too much. The vast room with its many moving bodies suddenly tilted unpleasantly, making Shouta cling to the spot of bar counter he had been set up at for the last fifteen minutes. Blinking did nothing to fix the sudden overwhelming visuals.
Shouta felt dizzy, off centered. Like he had lost the ability to be aware of his limbs, as if his body was detached somehow. His mind became foggy and disoriented, coherent thoughts slipping through his fingers though he distantly knew something was not okay. That something was wrong. The panic he’d have felt was not there, the alarm too distant to make him react like he normally would. It was disorienting feeling.
“There we go. That’s better.” A somewhat familiar voice purred, sounding too close. The guy with the silver tooth -Kimura?- was in front of him again, seeming to come out of nowhere when he could have sworn he had seen him and his buddy go off into the dance floor earlier. He had his hands on Shouta’s biceps, like he was keeping Shouta from losing his balance. The grin he gave Shouta didn’t sit well, sending an unpleasant shiver down his spine.
That feeling of something wrong intensified, ratcheting Shouta’s heart against his ribs, though the sense of panic didn’t help in giving him the coordination to shrug off the sudden arm over his shoulders or the warm body pressing at his back keeping him from stepping away.
“Th’fuck… did you...?” Shouta wanted to snarl out, but his voice slurred and he felt unbalanced, like his brain was scrambled. His body leaned hard into the man’s side, feeling heavy. In some dark corner of his mind he knew they had drugged him. Must have slipped him something. His instincts had been dulled enough to not notice and now he was paying for his own lack of vigilance.
“Just something to lighten you up. You seemed tense.” Kimura’s voice had that fake syrupy tone to it that made Shouta’s skin crawl. It was practiced. This wasn’t their first time doing this. He’d taken down creeps like this before, sometimes not in time to save the victim from getting hurt. It felt surreal being the one targeted.
“Sorry. It’s kind of fast acting.” Hirano informed him, somehow sounding proud and not apologetic in the least. “It’s of my own mixing. Feels good, right?”
It did not feel good, the feeling like he was not in control was not good and very much not okay. The club was too busy, too loud, and Shouta was too out of it to get away or even try to get anyones attention. Did Hizashi and Nemuri even know he had moved from earlier? His tongue felt leadened and words elusive. His lack of ability to control his body was becoming something he should have been very alarmed about.
“Let’s get him somewhere more private.” Kimura suggested, tugging Shouta away too easily from the bar. Hirano took up the spot on Shouta’s other side, the two bracketing him and more or less guiding him through the crowd on what felt like drunken feet.
No one seemed to see something amiss. That there was a crime being committed and no one noticed. Shouta tried to look for his friends, but the bodies and lights made a wave of vertigo come over him, making him feel confused and unsteady. Made him feel nauseous. Vaguely sensing them going down a hall, through a couple doors, maybe more? Everything was too dark, though he could still hear the club. Before finding himself alone with the two men who had drugged him.
The room was dimly lit, not a bathroom. Likely a storage room, somewhere in the back rooms beyond the employee only area. It had shelves and boxes. The music was still loud but muffled. He was still in the club, out of sight.
Shouta was maneuvered and shoved hard against a wall, held up more by Kimura’s bulk than his own will. His legs felt like jello, too weak from whatever they gave him to properly support his own body. His arms the same. Some kind of muscle relaxer? A sedative? Some kind of date rape ‘mix’ created by Hirano.
“Get. Off.” Shouta slurred and attempted to shove at the man pinning him to the wall, muscles having lost their strength. God, he was a pro hero, who had clocked in enough time to hone his body to fight villains. Years of training and he couldn’t even push this asshole off him. One of his wrists was held fast to the wall by a firm grip.
“Relax, baby, we’re just going to have a bit of fun.” Kimura wedged his leg between Shouta’s, slotting their legs and hips together in a mockery of eager intimacy, grinding against him. Felt a hand working under and up his shirt, fingers and a hot palm over his skin, his rib cage. “Fuck, you’re so hot. So fit. You work out?”
Hirano moved in to join them, one of his hands joining Kimura’s under Shouta’s shirt. The man was ballsy enough to brush some of Shouta’s hair out of the way to mouth at Shouta’s neck, nudging his head to the side. He tried to move away but was too caged against the wall to get space between himself and the two men. There were fingers working at the button and zipper of his pants that threatened to make his mind spiral.
“God, your ass. I just wanna…” The groping hands indicated enough, fingers digging into Shouta’s ass almost to the point of likely bruising. “Can’t wait till I can get inside you. Shit.”
The hardening cock being pressed against him made Shouta want to vomit, his stomach turning from too much alcohol, the drug they gave him, and disgust at what was happening out of his control. It pissed him off, anger giving him enough energy to do something. To retaliate, to try to fight back.
Hirano was the closest, his head too close to Shouta’s face. Not sure where it came from but the desperate need to get them the fuck off him, Shouta turned his face and bit down hard on Harino’s ear. The man screamed and jerked back, a bit of blood on Shouta’s teeth. One arm freed, and he attempted to shove a shocked Kimura away. It did fuck all but the distraction of his buddy’s bleeding ear interrupted the proceedings enough to give Shouta space but only momentarily.
There was cursing and then someone’s backhand sent Shouta’s head spinning even worse, making his vision flicker dangerously. His ears were ringing. Felt his knees give out and his body falling roughly onto his side. Blacked out for a long enough moment and came to laying on his stomach on the ground, his wrists bound behind his back with something that felt like a zip tie. Something thin and cutting into his skin. Mind too sluggish to put it together that this was worse, that he was more in danger like this than moments before.
The new position and the vulnerability made Shouta’s breathing tip into hyperventilation territory. Words and thoughts escaped him when he felt his loosened pants being tugged down, the movement jerky and harsh enough to lift his hips up with every tug. Cold air hit his skin as his boxers followed suit to where his pants were bunched around his knees, exposing him and making it difficult for him to shift his legs. The hands on him were rough, mean, likely Harino’s.
Time flexed and slipped beyond his grasp as everything blurred, either from his panic or the drug in his system or both. There was sick comments being made about his body, about who was going first. But the words meant nothing when Shouta struggled to not let the panic attack that threatened to overwhelm him win. The idea of passing out now scared him, even if being aware for what was about to happen was worse.
Something wet and cold dripped between his ass cheeks, that little unhelpful voice in his head telling him it was lube. The sound of a wrapper being torn filtered through his panicked breathing. A condom, his mind supplied. At least they weren’t going in dry and raw.
This was happening, this piece of shit fucker was going to fuck him and Shouta couldn’t stop it, couldn’t fight back. Couldn’t knock that silver tooth down the bastard’s throat. Couldn’t stop the disgusted fear from making a broken sound low in his throat from escaping when fingers groped, spreading him and exposed him further.
“No…no. S-stop.” Shouta ground out raggedly, voice tinged with desperation, his bruised cheek pressed to the ground as he had no control of the situation. He tried to shift, to roll, something. At that small effort, one of them put their weight into pinning his shoulders down and another settled down behind him, straddling his legs. He could feel body heat and then the blunt head of a condom wrapped cock being dragged along the crevice of his ass, spreading the lube, not yet trying to breach an unwilling and unprepared hole. He couldn’t help the gasps that escaped him, his body shuddering and lungs trying to pull air into a constricted chest. His mind was somehow trying to block out what was going to happen next and prepare for it at the same time.
“Relax, baby.” A man’s voice crooned mockingly, Shouta wasn’t able to identify whoever it was as he felt that dick start to press into him. He couldn’t relax as the blunt head pushed in, making the pressure and burning pain of the man forcing himself past Shouta’s unprepared entrance unbearable. Shouta choked on air and a strangled shout ripped from his throat when they bottomed out a long moment later. Body weakly trying to shift away from the unwanted painful intrusion.
“Fuck, he’s so tight.” The one on top of him moaned out, his body weight and heat coming from him was nearly suffocating. The other man made a groaning comment but the words were garbled to Shouta’s ringing ears.
It fucking hurt and it was too much. There was no where to go, he couldn’t escape it. He couldn’t seem to breathe enough. It felt like he was being split apart, the helplessness he felt was overwhelming.
The lube helped in not making it worse with a dry drag but it still lit him up with searing pain from the sudden unwelcome forced stretch and then when the man on him pulled out enough to thrust back in, bringing more sharp pain. Shouta couldn’t block this out, the drug that made him weak for them didn’t help in blurring what they were doing to him. A sob he couldn’t hold back passed his gritted teeth, tears he usually couldn’t produce burning at his eyes when he felt cruel hands grabbing his hips in preparation for another thrust…
…but it never went further than that as the door to the storage room burst in. It startled whoever was buried in him to stall and pull out in surprise, the sudden withdrawal burned too. The chaos that followed was someone yanking whoever was on him away violently, the sounds of fighting and the familiar voices of Hizashi and Nemuri filtering through the mind numbing panic he was trapped in.
There was a loud crash of two bodies colliding and falling to the floor, a scuffle. Shouta couldn’t keep track of anything in the haze of his mind. He tried to curl up on his side, in a weakened attempt to protect himself. Even if the dick wasn’t in him anymore, it still left a burning ache he couldn’t get away from. He couldn’t help the full body flinch when he felt hands on him. “Don’t!” The word was ripped from his throat in a ragged way. He cringed away, his body still in the state of fight or flight.
“Okay, okay! I won’t touch you without asking.” Nemuri’s voice was close, familiar and comforting like she was speaking to a scared animal or a frightened civilian. “Shouta, it’s just me, Nemuri. We took the guys out.”
Shouta dragged his hazy gaze up to the figure knelt at his side, the effort monumental, Nemuri’s long hair and familiar features a welcome but blurry sight. Somehow sensing her concern and he knew he was safe. Nemuri was safe. He felt too weighed down to do much but blink up at her, an odd numbness settling over him now that the threat seemed to be gone. Certainly it was, if Nemuri was there. “Shouta, I need to get your wrists free, okay?”
He wasn’t sure if he responded to her, but knew he could trust her. He closed his eyes, a shuddering breath leaving him, and felt her work to free his hands from whatever they had used to bind them. They ached from being held behind his back, from his weakened struggles. There was another sensation of someone hovering, but whoever it was was not hostile. Hizashi? He had heard the blond’s voice before too didn’t he? He felt too drained to check. His wrists burned from being chafed, tingled from fresh circulation. With some effort, he managed to clumsily pull his arms around to hold them to his front, not bothering to attempt to getting up just yet. He felt so heavy, limbs still not obeying simple commands and muscles spasming from draining tension. He felt chilled.
“Fuck. Is he drugged, Nem?” Hizashi’s voice, it was low and there was an undercurrent of vibration to it, like a bit of his quirk was slipping through with a mix of anger and worry. Nemuri’s response was murmured back to the blond, sounding uncertain.
Everything to Shouta felt out of reach, too distant to respond. Just focusing on breathing and existing for the moment took all of his focus. The relief of this nightmare being stopped and being saved by his friends made him lose any energy he had from the adrenaline and panic.
“Shouta, darling, I’m going to help get you covered up, okay?” Nemuri informed him, her voice oh so gentle and sad sounding, and he wasn’t sure what she meant. He managed a hum of acknowledgment and his breathing kicked up again when he felt her carefully pulling his pants back up where they belonged. It was an attempt to give him the small comfort of being covered and a bit of dignity. Wasn’t sure if there had been any tearing and bleeding, but he knew he didn’t want them to see that. His arms felt like noodles, unable to help to right his own pants. Nemuri spoke softly, telling him he was okay, that she got him, repeating reassuring words. Encouraged and helped him to sit up but he had to lean heavily on her, having winced from shifting too much.
Gentle fingers brushed some off his hair from his face, Nemuri’s familiar scent -combination of her perfume and her quirk- soothed him just as much as her touch did. His nerves were rattled and he couldn’t stop shivering. He just wanted to lay down and sleep this away. Maybe when he’d wake up it’d all just be a bad dream, though the pain he still felt told him this very much was not a dream.
“Hey Shouta, can you look at me?” Shouta did so after a long moment, blinking heavily and gazing back at Nemuri’s gentle and worried smile, her eyes looking him over. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
He should have been bothered by the fussing, the way she was handling him like he was fragile, though he knew he wasn’t okay. Felt distant in his own skin and cold to boot. He knew it was okay to let Nemuri take care of him, trusted her with his life. She was one of very few he knew he could trust like this.
“His pupils are dilated, he’s shivering. And he’s not responding normally. He’s been possibly drugged and he might be going into shock.” Nemuri informed the blond who was standing over them protectively. Nemuri then carefully shifted him to lay on his back, snagging a box to prop his feet up on. A tiny voice recalled that being protocol for shock, but Shouta felt too disconnected to feel concerned over it. Like this was all happening outside his body. He felt confused and dizzy even if he was laying still on the floor. “Call the cops and an ambulance, Hizashi.”
Shouta heard them, knew they were talking about him, using calm but authoritative voices, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Was dimly aware that Hizashi was speaking on the phone and Nemuri remained close, her presence calming him. Felt her hand in his, like a familiar tether in a maelstrom. There was a towel or blanket covering him, unsure when that happened. He drifted in a haze, reliant on his friends to keep him safe. It was a comfort.
Nemuri’s voice filtered through, her warmth felt at his side. “I’ve got you. We’re going to get you checked out and make sure we can take you home soon.”
Knowing he was safe with them, Shouta let himself submit into the numbing and detached mental state, tremors still passing through his body.
~*~*~*~
‘Home soon’ was almost ten hours later after a hospital visit. And home wound up to be Hizashi’s apartment, which was the closest to the hospital. After being poked, prodded, tested, and monitored, Shouta was ready to ditch the hospital long before they were done with him. Had gone through the examination and there had been some tearing but no internal bleeding. The drug with Hirano’s quirk influence would wear off eventually. Had even gotten the test results letting him know he had not gotten any sexually transmitted diseases from the assault.
There had been police reports given and both Kimura and Hirano -not their real names- had been arrested. The two men had been knocked out and detained by Nemuri and Hizashi at the scene. The charges extensive and made worse as they had drugged and sexually assaulted a pro hero. Apparently Shouta hadn’t been the first or only victim of theirs, that the two men, a couple, had been serial rapists. Their actions had been slowly escalating, as the previous victim of theirs had been stabbed to death. Somehow they had remained elusive enough to avoid capture. Their targeting Shouta at a public place had been another extreme they went for.
If Hizashi and Nemuri hadn’t noticed him missing and came looking for him, there had been a high risk that he could have ended like their last victim. The thought of being raped, stabbed, and bleeding out alone in a backroom was not how he wanted to go. Shouta was grateful for his friends coming after him, saving him.
The drug had been a homemade mix, combined with Hirano’s quirk, which was why it was lingering in Shouta’s system after several hours. Shouta had been in mild shock from the incident, compacted by the drug, but he had stabilized during the time spent at the hospital. Enough where he regained some of his ability to speak up for himself and general motor controls. His mind was not in a constant state of foggy brain soup once they had given him enough IVs to try to combat the side effects of the quirked drug. But it still dulled his ability to function at his normal. Made his reaction time slow and focus near impossible to keep.
They reluctantly released him into Hizashi and Nemuri’s care, with the promise of rest and to monitor him. Some of the nursing staff was familiar enough with Eraser Head’s stubbornness, not that he was really in the state to leave on his own.
He just wanted to get the fuck out of there and stop being the center of attention between his two friends and the hospital staff. The attention made his skin crawl and all he wanted was to try to block out what had happened to him, despite his body’s reminders. He wanted to crawl into a bed and pass out.
Shouta was not a hundred percent by any means and the drug was still making it difficult for him to properly function, it did not dull his hate for hospitals. As soon as he could leave, even though they had wanted to keep him a full twelve hours, he did. It probably helped his case that both Hizashi and Nemuri hadn’t left his side and made promises to take care of him. Probably for the best as he felt not quite right in his own skin and kept zoning out and losing time. He was vaguely aware of the spells of dissociation he was having, though it might have been obvious to his friends.
At Hizashi’s, Shouta had managed to take a shower, scrubbing himself three times over, until his skin felt raw and uncomfortable. The phantom feel of some stranger’s hands on him, still feeling the bruising on his hips and the ache at his shoulders where the other had held him down. Failing to ignore the tender pain still between his legs.
It was being alone that he finally broke, not able to stop the stuttering series of sobs that made his chest ache or the build of frustrated tears making his chronic dry eyes burn. Unwillingly remembering how weak and helpless he had felt, that he had no control over anything that happened. Anger mixed in that they made him feel like that. An emotional release after a harrowing experience.
Shouta had taken long enough that Hizashi came to check on him, worried that Shouta had passed out or fallen asleep. It was Hizashi who gently coaxed him out and made sure Shouta had comfortable clothes and offered his bed for Shouta to sleep in.
Shouta did pass out once properly horizontal, at least in Hizashi’s indulgently large western bed that was ridiculously comfortable. Vaguely knew Hizashi had put his weighted blanket over him, which helped ground him enough to sleep. Knew one of them had checked on him a few times and had been distantly aware that one or the other had slept next to him as well.
Waking up, he saw it was dark out from the bit of outside the blackout curtains didn’t block out. He woke a little disoriented, like from taking a nap that lasted too long and finding out one lost a longer chunk of time than planned. His body felt heavy and ached in places he didn’t want to dwell on. The bed was empty next to him, but evidence of someone having been there was evident. It was a odd mix of scents between Hizashi’s shampoo and the constant scent of Nemuri’s quirk lingering in the sheets. It was more comforting than alarming for him to know his best friends had kept him company in such a simple way. Sharing beds was nothing new for them.
It took him too many long moments to put together why he was in Hizashi’s bed, not that it was the first time waking in it nor would it be the last. When his mind put together the pieces of what happened, he just tried to block it out and forced himself to get out of bed for distraction. If he could just focus on normal things, like getting up and taking a piss and brushing his teeth to get rid of the gross aftertaste of drinking, then he could attempt to be somewhat human. To just pretend for a while this was just another normal sleepover at Hizashi’s.
Wondering out into the main room of the apartment, Shouta could smell food, which made his stomach grumble. He wasn’t sure when he had last eaten, but the food scent told him it had been too long.
“Shouta!” Hizashi greeted him as he spotted him, the blond working at the stove, cooking. Nemuri was doing up dinner prep dishes at the sink. Both of them looked at him, the mixed look of relief and concern coming from them both. “Was going to see if you were up to dinner in a few. How are you feeling?”
Shouta wasn’t quite sure how to answer that, but it was better than he had felt when he had last been conscious and coherent enough. “Less like death warmed over.” He admitted, shuffling over to the little kitchen island. He wasn’t about to elaborate more than that right now. Just wanted some normal. “How long was I out?”
“Fourteen hours! We were starting to get worried, you were pretty out of it.” Nemuri chimed in, turning to dry her hands and turn her focus onto him. He tried to ignore the way her gaze was looking at him as if she could tell he was putting up a front. She knew him too well.
He had been out for fourteen hours? Shouta hadn’t had that long of a sleep since probably his third year when he had broken his collarbone from a nasty fall and Recovery Girl had kissed him into a healing coma. Shouta startled a little when a glass of water was placed in front of him, having not realized Nemuri had gotten him the drink. She didn’t make any comment but kept her keen gaze on him as he mumbled a thanks and ended up downing the glass, suddenly quite thirsty. He was grateful when she refilled it and the second glass he took his time with. Shouta didn’t miss the concerned glances from Hizashi as the other man continued to work at the stove.
“I’m going to get the annoying questions out of the way. Are you experiencing a headache? Nausea? Difficulty breathing? Any severe pains?” Nemuri rattled off, like she was ticking of a mental check list. Likely things they had been told to keep an eye out for.
“No, to all.” Shouta admitted after a moment of making sure he wasn’t ignoring any red flags his body would be telling him about. He wasn’t okay by any means, still bone exhausted despite the fourteen hours of sleep. He still felt numb, mentally. His backside ached but it was a duller pain than it had been the day before. His mind kept trying to go back to what happened and also trying to not think about it. Something like this would not just go away just because he wanted it to, to pretend it never happened. For now, he was okay shoving it to the mental back burner, not even close to wanting to deep dive into any of it. It was too new, too raw, to touch.
Nemuri seemed to be relieved, like she had been worried of Shouta’s condition from what had been given to him would have gotten worse. That more unwanted and unpleasant surprises could show up. Especially when dealing with anything quirk enhanced drug. “Okay, good. They told us to be cautious of any side effects that could happen.”
None of them needed to bring up that Shouta would not be magically be okay after what happened. He was grateful they didn’t try to make him talk about anything else about it. He wasn’t ready and doubted he’d ever would be ready to talk about it, even with them.
“Are you hungry? I’m making a big batch of curry! The kind you like, Shou!” Hizashi informed him with his usual energy, even if it might have been a little forced in his need to take care of Shouta. Like he was being mindful to not be too loud. Hizashi often tried to mother hen when Shouta got injured or sick enough to be needing taken cared of. Nemuri often wasn’t far behind but she would be a bit more subtle about it.
“I could eat.” Shouta stated, as if his stomach hadn’t been informing him since he woke up that he was starving. He did like Hizashi’s curry, as it was the same recipe Hizashi’s mother made that Shouta was familiar with and liked. It was something normal to focus on at least. He needed normalcy and friendly diversion.
A few minutes later, with a bit of flare, Hizashi placed a bowl of curry and rice in front of him while the other two joined him for the dinner of comfort food. Shouta couldn’t help but devour the food, which seemed to help settle his stomach.
Thankfully, both Hizashi and Nemuri acted their usual even though Shouta could still see the concerned glances and the way they kept him engaged, somehow knowing he would need the distraction. It didn’t bother him as much as it may have in other circumstances.
Their familiar banter helped soothe something in him as he sat and basked in their company. The easy warmth of his friends and a home cooked meal helped keep him present in the moment, feeling safe and cared for. Content in the familiar. Their friendship was helping to keep the numbness from overtaking him, kept him from sinking. Quietly thankful that they had been there for him, stuck by him. Saved him.
Shouta might not be okay now, but he knew he would be, with Hizashi and Nemuri at his side.