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bloody-bee-tea · 2 months ago

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Beetober 2024 Day 9 - Baby

This fic was entirely powered by Halo from Rea Garvey

Katsuki knows that something is wrong the moment Shinsou steps into his apartment and it has nothing to do with the brown folder he slams onto the table.

Katsuki eyes it warily and he wonders what's going on because even though he's one of the top three he still doesn't have enough clearance to know exactly what's going on with Shinsou's missions. And Shinsou takes his job too damn seriously to be doing this lightly.

But it's really not the file that tips Katsuki off, it's the look on his face.

"What crawled up your fucking ass and died there?" he demands to know as Shinsou flops down next to Katsuki on the couch.

“Undercover mission,” Shinsou says with a little nod towards the file. “Estimated to take around six months.”

Shit, that means they want him to go in deep and embarrassingly enough Katsuki’s first thought is that he’s going to miss him. Which is just stupid and not worth further exploring so instead he leans forward, reaching for the file, one eye still on Shinsou to see if he’s going to object.

Shinsou only watches him, those unnerving eyes on Katsuki as he flips through the debrief and yeah. This fucking blows. Shinsou really has to deal with the absolute scum of the earth in his line of work.

“When do you start?”

“Why do you think I’m going to take it?” Shinsou drawls out and ah.

So there is a problem. One that is holding Shinsou back.

“Are you stupid? Of course you’re going to take it,” Katsuki gives back, because there is no way Shinsou is going to reject this. They specifically asked for him because he’s the only one who can do it, because he’s just that good at what he does.

He’s the best, really.

Katsuki would hate this admission a lot more of he were in direct competition with him, but lime-light heroes and underground ones are so fucking far apart, they might even be playing entirely different games.

“I just—” Shinsou clenches his teeth and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his head in his hands.

“You just what?” Katsuki snaps out because he hates when Shinsou does that, when he starts to say something and then censors himself for no fucking reason at all and Katsuki is just about at the end of his patience and ready to kick him right in the thigh when Shinsou looks at him.

Katsuki was not prepared for the fear on his face.

“What if I go too deep?” he whispers out, wringing his hands. “What if I—end up liking it?”

“Are you fucking stupid,” Katsuki gets out because he can’t believe this bullshit and he kicks Shinsou in the thigh for good measure, too. He wasn't quite prepared for the way Shinsou’s long fingers wrap around his ankle, but then again, he's also not struggling to take his leg back, so there’s that.

If Shinsou wants to hold on to something Katsuki is certainly not going to complain if it's him.

“Are you seriously telling me that you’re considering refusing a job practically tailored to you because you think you might cross a line and turn into a villain?”

Shinsou blinks at him.

“Maybe?” he then offers, almost carefully and now this, this is all wrong because Shinsou Hitoshi is a lot of things but he’s never ever careful, not around Katsuki.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Katsuki almost cheerfully says and he lets his hands spark for good measure too as he gives Shinsou his most unhinged smile.

True to form, Shinsou doesn’t even seem bothered by it and now that’s more like it.

“Bakugo, I’m being serious right now,” Shinsou sighs out and Katsuki can tell that he is, can see it in the tightness around his eyes and the hunched up back and the slight shaking in his hands.

It only adds to the ridiculousness of the situation.

“You’re being a stupid piece of shit, is what you are,” Katsuki shoots back and leans forward, right into Shinsou’s space, so there can be no doubt that he listens to what Katsuki has to say back.

“You did not transfer into the Hero Course to now turn into a villain. You did not survive Aizawa-sensei’s bullshit training to now turn into a villain. You did not rise fast in the underground community to now turn into a villain. What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you even know yourself?”

Katsuki’s words do not have the intended effect, he can tell, because he can still clearly see the doubt in Shinsou’s eyes.

“But what if—what if I find out I like it?”

“Shinsou, Denki asked you once if you could make him cheat successfully during a test and you were so enraged by the mere suggestion that you nearly killed him during the next training session. You are not going to like any of it,” Katsuki nods towards the file. “It’s going to be brutal and it’s going to suck ass, and yeah, it’ll probably leave you off worse for wear and with a need of several new therapists but it’s not going to turn you into a villain.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Shinsou, why are you a hero?” Katsuki demands to know, flexing his fingers to get his own quirk under control.

Shinsou just makes him so goddamn angry and the fact that he doubts himself like that makes Katsuki want to smash his face in.

“Not for a very noble reason, if you’re fishing for that,” Shinsou says with a sigh as he leans back against the couch and Katsuki snarls at him.

“Tell me the goddamn reason!”

“Out of spite, really,” Shinsou mutters and then huffs out a little laugh. “I’m a hero because everyone only ever said all I would be was a villain. I’m a hero to spite everyone.”

“And that is why you’re going to stay a hero,” Katsuki immediately says, because for all that they both like to talk around their issues, they also know each other and it hadn’t been hard to suss out Shinsou’s reasons for heroism.

Shinsou only looks at him with one raised eyebrow and Katsuki huffs out an annoyed breath.

“If you were just a bit weaker, you wouldn’t be here and we wouldn’t need to have this conversation because there was no job offered to you. You’d be a goddamn villain. But you’re not; you’re made out of steel and fire and spite and that’s why this job is not going to do you in. It’ll only make you want to try even harder. You’ll be a better hero for it.”

“Six months is a long time,” Shinsou lazily drawls out and finally the tension has left him. “I’m going to come back all wrong.”

“So what? Come back all wrong—but come back—and then spend the next six months piecing yourself back together. We all do it after missions that go a little too deep, a little bit sideways. Sometimes with help, sometimes without.”

Shinsou’s eyes slide over to him and Katsuki knows exactly what he’s thinking about because Katsuki’s last fucked up mission wasn’t that long ago and some nights he still wakes to fire in his bed and smoke in his room.

Shit happens. They get over it. That’s just how it goes. It’s gotten easier, getting over it, with Shinsou there to meet his more volatile reactions. Piecing himself back together has been easier when someone’s there who’s not afraid to cut himself on all of the shards.

“It’s not that easy, I’m not exactly—” Again, Shinsou cuts himself off, clearly frustrated with himself and Katsuki rolls his eyes because he knows what Shinsou wanted to say.

I’m not exactly easy to get along with, even on good days.

“Quit being such a stupid idiot,” he huffs out. “Fuck, you act as if I don’t know that you soften yourself for everyone but me. You smooth all of your edges over when you’re with the others.”

“How would you know?”

“Because you don’t do that shit when you’re with me,” Katsuki confidently says, because there is no way the vitriolic, cutting, sarcastic piece of shit he gets on an almost daily basis is what anyone nice gets to see.

And Katsuki likes it like that, thank you very much.

“I don’t,” Shinsou admits and Katsuki nods.

“So it’s easy. If you come out of that mission fucked in the head, you come to me. I’ll piece you back together, no matter what. You know where to find me.”

It’s an offer, as much as it is a promise, because there is no way Katsuki is going to let Shinsou shatter because of something like this.

And if he has to piece him back together from scratch then he’ll fucking do it, too.

~*~*~

Hitoshi stares off into nothing. He’s so—empty that his hands don’t even shake. There’s blood dripping into his eye from the cut he didn’t let the paramedics look at and his entire body aches but it’s nothing that’s incapacitating enough to warrant a trip to the hospital, so Hitoshi had simply slinked off at the right moment and now he doesn’t know what to do.

He doesn’t know what to feel, really, and so he simply continues to stare off into nothing.

It takes him a while to fish his phone out, but he does, eventually, and he distantly marvels at the fact that it’s charged. His handler must have done that, because he was the one who gave it to him during the short debrief they just had and Hitoshi’s hands still don’t shake as he pulls up his contacts.

He should probably call his parents, but he can’t quite bring himself to do that. Aizawa understands too much and Yamada would just fret about his everything and Hitoshi is not ready for that. He can’t have anyone fuss over him, or look at him with that deep understanding in their eyes and so he clicks on the one contact who is not going to do either.

“What?” Bakugo’s gravelly voice rings out and Hitoshi blinks when he remembers that it’s the middle of the night and Bakugo likes his sleep.

Well, he already woke him up, might as well keep going.

“I need to see you,” Hitoshi rasps out, his throat still sore from being choked out earlier that night and there’s only a brief silence on the other end of the line.

Yeah, Bakugo probably didn’t expect it to be him, considering his mission wasn’t due to end for another two weeks or so.

Things just went a little sideways and Hitoshi had to improvise.

“I’m keeping your cat company,” Bakugo finally says. “Fucker’s been lonely without your ugly mug around.”

“Fucker’s been way too spoiled with you, he used to be fine with being alone,” Hitoshi shoots back, because this is what they do, and the normalcy wraps around him like a warm blanket. This is something he doesn’t have to think about.

“You keep telling yourself that,” Bakugo grumbles. “You’re going to come home or what?” he then asks and instead of answering Hitoshi hangs up and simply starts walking.

He doesn’t have to think, his feet carrying him home without issue and he doesn’t even get to open his own door, because Bakugo is right there, standing in the dimly lit hallway with grey sweat shorts and one of the stupid muscle shirts he likes so much and Hitoshi almost slumps where he stands.

“They let you go home like this?” Bakugo asks judgementally and motions at the entirety of Hitoshi.

“Slipped away before they could get to me,” Hitoshi admits and takes one unsteady step forward. “Gonna let me in or what?”

“This is your goddamn apartment,” Bakugo says but he steps to the side and allows Hitoshi to shuffle into the hallway. “You’re early. Didn’t expect you back for at least another two weeks.”

“Shit went sideways,” Hitoshi mumbles and he remembers how the breath stuttered out under his hands.

He feels as if he might be sick any moment now.

“Yeah, that happens,” Bakugo mercilessly says and takes Hitoshi’s hand, guiding him towards the bathroom.

“No, you don’t—understand,” Hitoshi gasps out, his hands suddenly trembling so hard that it shakes his entire frame. “I killed two people.”

Bakugo warily eyes him and Hitoshi almost flinches back.

“Yeah, that happens, too,” Bakugo almost cruelly says and Hitoshi wrenches his hand out of Bakugo’s grip. “I read the file, remember? You were supposed to kill if shit went sideways.”

“But these weren’t sanctioned,” Hitoshi says, voice faint and trembling. “I just—did it. How can I still be a hero like that?”

“You did it because you were supposed to keep your cover. You were supposed to do whatever it takes to make this mission a success,” Bakugo says, suddenly all calm in face of Hitoshi’s mounting panic and Hitoshi wants to hit him so bad.

“They congratulated me on a job well done,” Hitoshi hisses out because he thinks for all that happened, he’s still convinced that that is the most fucked up of all.

“Remember my mission?” Bakugo suddenly asks him and it’s surprising enough that it derails Hitoshi’s spiralling panic. “Where I made a decision and a family died?”

“Yeah,” Hitoshi mutters because of course he remembers that. Bakugo almost spent a month at his place after that, and some days Hitoshi is still talking him down from a panic attack.

Bakugo is lucky Hitoshi’s sleep schedule is shit already, because otherwise he would have killed him for the frequent night calls.

“It wasn’t a good or bad decision. It just was a decision. And they keep praising me for it. Someone congratulated me for a job well done on live TV mere hours afterwards. They were still searching for the bodies then.”

“I remember.”

“So. Shit is fucked up. It’s fucked up all around, you’re not special in that way. Yeah, you killed, so what? That’s part of your job, even more so than mine. Now, the real question is: did you like it? Did you like any of it?” Bakugo asks as he leans forward right into Hitoshi’s space and Hitoshi rears back as if Bakugo had socked him in the face.

“No! Fuck, I hated every second,” Hitoshi almost yells out and he did.

He played his part and he played it well, he knows that, it’s the only reason he got deep enough to get all the people he was supposed to get, but he hated every second. His skin kept crawling every time he had to aid in one of their crimes, he almost threw up more than once and he has lost so much sleep he’s not sure he can ever make up for it.

Bakugo only shrugs.

“So, you’re not villain material. Wasn’t that what you were so worried about? You’re still a goddamn hero and your work on this mission only proves it.”

He says it so nonchalantly, as if there could have never been a moment of doubt that it takes Hitoshi’s breath away and that’s all it takes. Bakugo’s steady trust in him is what does him in.

Hitoshi’s breath starts to come hard and fast, more sob than breath, really, and he sinks to the floor right where he stands. He buries his face in his hands, hot tears sliding down his cheeks but Bakugo is there.

“Shh, that’s it, baby, deep breaths,” he mutters, kneeling down to wrap his arms around Hitoshi and then he simply holds him until Hitoshi’s eyes run out of tears and his breath returns to normal.

“Better now?” Bakugo asks and Hitoshi snorts, because he can’t believe that the honest answer to that is “Yes”.

“Can I take a look at that cut then? You keep getting your blood fucking everywhere,” Bakugo says, voice annoyed, but softer than it normally is and Hitoshi knows that it bothers him and his endless need to keep things tidied up and clean.

“If you have to,” Hitoshi sighs out and allows Bakugo to pull him up and shove him into the bathroom.

He is notably less careful with Hitoshi now, as if he’s no longer waiting for Hitoshi to break and he supposes that’s fair. Hitoshi’s pieces are all over the floor already, anyway, so there’s nothing left Bakugo can break.

He can only put him back together now.

“Sit down, you towering freak.” Bakugo points to the toilet and Hitoshi plops down without comment.

“Thanks,” Hitoshi mumbles as he watches how Bakugo whips out the first aid kit and he’s not even sure what exactly he’s thanking him for.

Probably his entire existence.

“Yeah, whatever,” Bakugo dismissively says as he dabs at the cut on Hitoshi’s brow non too gently. “You did the same for me.”

“Would do it again, too,” Hitoshi admits, and he pointedly does not think about the sick feeling in his stomach when he imagines Bakugo going to someone else after a mission goes wrong.

Hitoshi feels as if it’s his privilege to see Bakugo all torn up and help him through it and he wonders if Bakugo would hate that, or if he thinks the same.

“Same,” Bakugo quietly says and Hitoshi thinks he might have his answer right there.

They fall silent while Bakugo works and Hitoshi marvels at how much steadier he already feels. He knows that a shit ton of nightmares are in his future, and probably just as many hours with a therapist, but if Bakugo is there, it might not even suck so much.

“I think you should move in,” Hitoshi says apropos of nothing when Bakugo puts butterfly stripes over the cut and his only answer is a huff before Bakugo leans in and presses a kiss to his temple, making Hitoshi tingle all over.

“I spent the last month here because Fucker kept feeling lonely,” Bakugo says without meeting Hitoshi’s eyes as he turns away, busying himself with putting the kit back together.

“I might feel lonely, too,” Hitoshi drawls out, his eyes fixed on Bakugo and so he sees it when his posture loses some of his tension.

“If you wake me up with one of your stupid nightmares, I’ll blast you to hell,” Bakugo tells him instead of giving him a real answer, but this is better.

This is right.

They don’t talk about things, not like other people probably do, but they get it. They get each other and Hitoshi thinks he might take this over some heart-to-heart bullshit every day.

“Fair,” Hitoshi shrugs and forces himself to get up.

He still aches all over, the last fight really hitting him now and he can hear his bed scream at him from all the way across the apartment.

“You coming or what?” he asks over his shoulder when Bakugo simply stares after him and by the time Hitoshi has shed his clothes and slid under the covers, Bakugo is right there with him.

He doesn’t crowd him in, doesn’t try to press closer, seemingly understanding what Hitoshi needs without him having to say it and just for that Hitoshi tilts forward until he can press his forehead to Bakugo’s shoulder.

“Good night,” Hitoshi mumbles, sleep now dragging him under rapidly and for the first time in almost six months he gives in easily.

“I’ll be here,” Bakugo says and the promise wraps around Hitoshi like an extra warm blanket.

That first night, Hitoshi doesn’t have nightmares, but even after that, Bakugo’s words hold true for every single one that follows after. He’s always there.

#bt writes #beetober2024 #shinbaku #shinsou hitoshi #bakugo katsuki #bnha #mha #getting together #snark #understanding #hurt/comfort #angst #they are both bad at feelings #which fits just perfectly #especially with their brand of snark

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