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Katsuki leans his head against the train window, watching the scenery flit by through heavy lidded eyes. He’s exhausted, his entire body weighed down after a gruelling day patrolling and all he can think about is how much he wants to get home and curl up on the couch with his boyfriend. Shouto knew he was going to be home late, so he’s probably tried to make him dinner. Which means they’ll be eating instant ramen, but Katsuki doesn’t mind. He’s so hungry at this point that even that salty preservative filled monstrosity seems unusually appetising.
The train slows, breaks churning as it comes to a halt. This isn’t Katsuki’s station, so he leans back in his seat as the doors open and people flood into the cramped space. It’s hot and crowded and he can feel sweat collecting on the back of his neck. He sighs heavily, swiping a hand across his brow to clear the sticky moisture beading there.
Someone catches his eye from across the train and he feels an involuntary shiver rush up his spine. Fucking extras not keeping to their own business. He scowls back at the man, tugging his phone out of his pocket and scrolling through twitter. It’s another fifteen minutes to his stop, so he might as well entertain himself while he waits before impatience and frustration at the cramped conditions overwhelms his dwindling patience and he explodes.
The train hits one more stop before finally drawing up in front of Katsuki’s station. He stands, shoving his phone back into his pocket and trudging across the train to step out onto the platform.
A rush of hot air meets him and his lips turn down in a grimace. He’d been hoping the wind would help shake away some of the heat from the train, but it’s hot and humid, just bringing a rush of sticky heat to his already sweltering body.
He’ll take a cold shower at home. Wash all the sweat and grime off his body under the fresh, cool spray.
Buried in fantasies of cold water, Katsuki doesn’t notice the tall, burly figure approach from the side. Only when the man coughs, holding a hand up to his mouth, does he look up.
“You need something or do you take pleasure in coughing your germs all over fellow travellers?” Katsuki spits.
“My apologies,” the man says. He inclines his head, holding out a small crumpled map. “I’m afraid I’m not from around here and I’m rather lost.”
Katsuki scowls. He doesn’t want to deal with this right now. He’s off duty. Technically he could just walk away. Leave the man to find another hero. But even in his overheated, grouchy mood, he can’t find it in himself to turn away. “Fucking whatever. Give me that.” He takes the map from the man, spreading it out between both hands so the wrinkles disappear. “Where are you trying to go?”
“I’m looking fo—ngghhh,” the man cuts off, voice breaking into a pained gasp. He hunches over, clutching his chest tightly.
“What the fuck.” Katsuki drops the map, hands moving to steady the man as he sways. “Are you fucking drunk?”
“No. No I—I haven’t had a drop. This just hit out of nowhere. My—my chest.”
Katsuki lets out a heavy sigh, taking in the man’s perfectly tailored suit and gel slicked hair. He’s clearly wealthy. Not the typical kind of person he’d find wandering around drunk at night. “You on drugs or something?” Katsuki asks. This isn’t proper protocol. He’s supposed to ask these questions a lot nicer. But he’s fucking exhausted and just wants to get home, so sue him for being a little terse.
The man shakes his head. “No. I have a heart condition. I need. Need to get my meds.” He looks up at Katsuki, eyes blown wide with fear and desperation. “They’re in my bag. Please…” He twists around, motioning stiffly to the messenger bag on his shoulder while his other hand clutches at his chest.
Katsuki quickly grabs the bag, fumbling with the clasp to get it open.
“They should be right there. In an orange pill case.”
Katsuki digs deeper, bending over to peer into the bag. He frowns as his hands meet the empty leather bottom. There’s nothing but books and… His fingers curl around a tiny vial. It doesn’t feel like a pill bottle, but maybe the man’s medication needs to be injected and he got muddled in all the panic.
He pulls it out, holding it up to the light. “Is this—” The words die on his lips as he feels a sharp prick against his shoulder. He stiffens, panic biting at his insides. His throat tightens, body stiffening with fear as he whips around.
The man has straightened up, previously shaking hands now completely still. He holds a syringe in his right hand, long needle glinting in the dim light. A smile twists his tight lips and he lifts his other hand to brush back a loose strand of dark hair that’s fallen over his eyes. “I’ll take that. Don’t want it getting broken when you lose consciousness.”
Katsuki swallows, tightens his grip on the vial. His head is racing, twisting and turning. They’re at the far end of the train station and now that the train has disappeared, the platform is deserted. He’s alone. Alone with this strange man who just injected him with… something. Katsuki doesn’t know what. But either way this is a bad situation. A very bad situation.
“Back the fuck off,” he snarls. He steps towards the man, raising an arm threateningly as he prepares to fight. He feels heat collect on his palm, but only a few tiny sparks crackle from his fingertips, sputtering out to nothing within a few seconds. Shit. Shit. This man used quirk suppressants.
The man grins, pale lips twisting up to reveal perfect white teeth. “Not so feisty now, are you?”
Katsuki growls, voice low and menacing as he spits, “It’ll take more than quirk suppressants to take me down. I’ve learned hand to hand combat, you know.”
“Mm. Yes. Too bad there’s a little more than just quirk suppressants in there.” The man reaches out, grips Katsuki’s arm. “Come now. Let’s move this somewhere more private so we can enjoy the experience.”
A sliver of fear crawls down Katsuki’s spine. He feels it pool in his stomach, adding to the anxiety already simmering there. He tries to fight, pull away from the man’s tight grip, but his head is suddenly swimming and he feels himself sway, tilting and stumbling to the side as he tries to stay upright. It’s as if he just downed an entire bottle of wine. He can’t think. Can’t breathe. His head swarms with thoughts but it’s all dampened by a heavy, swirling feeling. Like his brain has been wrapped in gauze.
“That’s it. Let’s get you laying down somewhere.”
Katsuki feels the voice more than hears it. His vision wavers, going in and out of focus and he’s spinning, shaking. The man is pulling him along, grip tight around his wrist, but he can’t fight back. Can only stumble forward, tripping over his own feet.
A door slams open and Katsuki feels himself being pushed against a wall. The sound echoes loudly through the room. It’s a small space, cramped and stinking like stale piss and mould. Fingers slide over his shoulder, digging into his neck and pressing his face forward. Something sharp digs into his stomach and he realises it’s a counter.
“Keep your head down,” the man drawls, voice thick and melodic. He presses a hand against Katsuki’s head, fingers so long and thick they wrap around the entire back of his neck.
His head jolts forward and he feels his nose slam against something hard. Tears spring to his eyes as pain rushes over his senses. He’s still swaying, can feel his head tilting to the side. His legs wobble, threatening to collapse beneath him, but the man holds him firmly upright, keeping him steady.
His lips move to Katsuki’s ear, letting out a soft, tickling breath as he croons, “You’re so pretty. So perfect. Bet your hole is so tight.”
Katsuki’s heart clenches. His hand falls to his pants, gripping the belt tightly between numb fingers. His stomach squirms. The dim lights of the bathroom flicker in and out. He isn’t sure if it’s a side effect of whatever drug this man pumped into his system or if the lights are actually flickering. Or maybe neither of those are true and he’s actually going crazy. “No. No,” he gasps, pants. He tries to shove at the man’s hands as they slide across his waist, untucking his shirt and slithering across his chest.
“Aw, so sensitive,” the man croons, gentle, deadly. “How long will it take you to cum, I wonder. Once I’m inside you.” He presses up against Katsuki, squishing their bodies together.
Katsuki shudders, feels the firm, hot pressure of the man’s cock press up against his ass. He shakes his head, gasps out a breath. “No. Let me go.”
The man chuckles. He slides his hands out from under Katsuki’s shirt, slipping them down to his belt.
Katsuki grips as tight as he can against the band, but the man flicks his grip away with one easy movement.
He unties the belt slowly, savouring each movement. His cock is still pressed up against Katsuki’s ass. He can feel it twitch with every movement. Every little gasp that escapes Katsuki’s throat.
“So sweet. Are you scared, little one?”
“I’m not fucking scared,” Katsuki spits, but that’s a lie. His head gives another violent spin and he feels his knees give way, threatening to send him tumbling to the ground.
The man catches him easily, loops his free hand around Katsuki’s waist. “No, no. You gotta stay upright for me. I want you bent over like this. Want to see your perfect, pretty hole.”
Katsuki’s stomach twists as the words spill over his senses. He tries again to use his quirk, desperately begging for it to return, but again, only a few feeble sparks spit from his fingertips.
He feels the man’s hands slide over his hips, dragging down his pants even as he frantically wriggles and grasps at the material to keep them on.
“Now, now. Stop fighting.” The man’s grip tightens and he yanks down Katsuki’s pants, drags them over his hips and down to his knees.
Hot, stale air rushes over exposed skin and Katsuki feels a shudder run through him. He flinches, sucking in a panicked breath.
The jingle of a belt loop rings through the small bathroom as the man moves to his own belt. Katsuki twists, but he’s helpless against the firm grip.
The man gives a soft sigh and suddenly clammy hands are pressing against him, spreading his ass cheeks and caressing the sensitive skin.
“As I suspected. Such a pretty hole.” The man strokes a finger over the hole and Katsuki feels a jolt of pleasure rush up his spine.
His limp dick twitches between his legs, awakening at the sensation and horror pools in his stomach. He can’t be getting off on this. Can’t. This is wrong, wrong, wrong. He twists violently, trying to dislodge the man’s hands, but his grip only tightens further.
Nails dig into soft skin, biting at the flesh. “Let’s see how much you can take.” A finger slides into his hole, sudden and violent.
Katsuki flinches, feels his entire pelvis jolt forward at the rough sensation. “Stop, stop!” he bites, gasps. Panic rises hot and thick, rushing over his body in giant waves. “I can’t. Can’t.”
But the man is pushing forward, shoving his finger deep into Katsuki’s hole. He wiggles around and Katsuki can feel the nail rake against his insides as he drags back. “So tight…”
“Hnn… no.” Katsuki drags in a shuddering breath. Feels his hardened dick pulse against his thighs. Something hot and large presses against his ass, slides over the edge of his dry hole. He shudders, hard. Feels the man’s cock press into the opening as he thrusts forward.
“Stop. ‘m not. Not ready. T-too dry.”
But the man doesn’t seem to care. He pushes harder, forcing his large cock against Katsuki’s hole, making the skin spread and spread, part to give the massive organ passage.
It hurts. Throbs. He feels every movement, every touch of skin against skin. It feels like he’s being split in two. Like someone is sliding a sharp stick into his ass. He gasps, cries out. Sobs. “Stop. Stop.” He’s crying now. Feels the tears sliding down his cheeks. Wet and hot and messy.
The man pulls back, huffing out a breath. “Let’s add a little lube now. I wanna see you take me all the way.” He digs something out of his pocket and Katsuki feels something wet and smooth smear across his ass cheek.
Fingers slip into his hole, coating the surface in a thick layer of lube. “There we go. Poor baby can’t take it dry.” The words drip with false sympathy, high and condescending as if he’s talking to a little kid.
Hands smooth over Katsuki’s hips, down his thighs, and then the man is pressing in again, sliding his long, thick cock into Katsuki’s hole.
It rakes against the insides. He’s used to taking big cock. Shouto’s his boyfriend after all. But this is different. His walls are already torn raw from the dry run and the lube only serves to make the skin sting and weep. Fear clenches within him as he imagines the state of his insides. Will this leave permanent damage?
He tries to twist away, get the man to let go, but it’s no use. He’s so weak. His hands shake as they grip the counter top. Cold water coats his fingers, making them slip and scrabble at the hard surface.
The man juts his hips, thrusting hard into Katsuki and he can’t hold back a whimper as pain sears through him. He’s thrusting in and out, pumping in hard, forceful movements. Katsuki feels his head spin, pain and fear mixing together to join the violent whirl of panic racing through his body.
Pain and pleasure rise within, battling for dominance as the man continues to pump in strong, fluid movements. Katsuki bites down hard on his lip, feels his teeth nip the sensitive skin. His dick jolts against his leg, twitches and pulses and even as horror churns in his stomach, he feels pleasure rising. It builds and builds, pulsing with each fluid motion the man gives. And he’s good. Experienced. Strong. It hurts. Hurts so bad. But Katsuki feels his cock swell between his legs, feels pre-cum wet the edge of his thigh.
His head whirls and he bends over, grips the edge of the counter in tight, clawing fingers. His hips jerk against his will and he thrusts back, feeling the solid pushback of the man’s cock.
“Good, good. You’re doing so well, baby,” the man says. He strokes a hand over Katsuki’s hair, smooths back the sweaty strands.
His other hand falls to Katsuki’s cock, fingers gliding over the surface. It’s gentle at first, smooth. But then his movements quicken, touch getting rougher as he runs his nails over the stretched skin.
“So hard for me. Such a cute little baby.” He whispers the words right in Katsuki’s ear, lets them caress his senses in their gentle sincerity. “Gonna make you cum so hard.” And then he’s pumping. Up and down. Movements strong as he slides his cupped hand over Katsuki’s cock.
Katsuki tries again to fight, desperately trying to pull away even though he knows it’s useless. Knows nothing will free him from this man’s grip. He’s trapped here. Stuck and at the mercy of this man’s whims. Totally, completely helpless and he hates it.
The movements slow for a moment, merging into soft, gentle caresses before suddenly picking up speed. It’s violent and forceful and so sudden, taking him completely off guard.
Katsuki cums hard, hips jolting as he jerks forward. Cum spurts from his tip, painting the tiled floor in white ribbons. He pants and gasps, leaning over on the sink. His fingers claw at the surface, fighting to hold himself upright as waves of sickening pleasure crash over him. He’s shaking now. Trembling all over. Whether it’s from the drugs or the adrenaline rush or shock he doesn’t know. It doesn’t really matter anyway, because the man is still thrusting into him, movements fast and desperate.
“I knew it wouldn’t take much to make you cum,” he says, amusement clear in his tone. “Just a few minutes and you’re spilling all over the floor. Such a sweet, sensitive little thing.”
Katsuki grits out a snarl, but it’s weak and doesn’t hold much venom. His legs tremble and he feels them completely give out beneath him, the man’s hands the only thing holding him upright.
And it hurts. Hurts and throbs and sears as the man thrusts in and out, pressing his heavy cock all the way inside, deep within Katsuki. And all he knows is pain, pain, pain. He can barely see through the tears rushing down his cheeks, dripping onto the counter. Cries fall from his lips, weak and feeble and he knows no one can hear him. Knows he’s alone here and no one’s coming to save him. And it hurts. It hurts so much and he can’t breathe. Can’t see. Fire explodes in his asshole and he lets out a sharp cry, choking on a violent sob. His head slams forward against the counter, hitting the sharp edge. He feels something slide down his forehead, into his eyes. It drops onto the counter, bright crimson mixing with clear water.
“I’m close. So close,” the man croons into his ear, breath catching on the pleasure laden words. He jolts forward, crying out, and Katsuki feels hot cum shoot into his ass, fill him up so tight he can barely breathe. And it’s wrong. All wrong. Because this isn’t Shouto’s cum. Isn’t the man he loves. This is some stranger and he shouldn’t be here. Can’t be here. But he can’t fight. Can’t stop this from happening.
His stomach feels bloated and full. Tight and wrong and he feels sick. Nauseous. Dizzy. Wrong. So wrong.
A fresh wave of pain wracks through him and he flinches, whines. It’s different this time, though. A dragging sensation. And then suddenly the man is pulling out, tugging back so fast the friction burns hot in his abused asshole. And now he’s free. Empty. Feels the hot air brush against his pulsing hole. Hot cum spills over the edges, slides down his thighs. Katsuki shudders and whines, gasps out a sob because it’s gross. So gross and wrong and he feels like his skin is crawling. Like he’s covered in a million tiny ants. He tugs at his arm, digging his nails into the skin as he sobs and sobs. Snot drips from his nose, running down his chin but he doesn’t care. Doesn’t have it in himself to care.
Hands pull back and his legs give out beneath him, sending him sprawling to the hard floor. He falls with a cry, breath rushing out of his throat.
“See you around, kid,” the man drawls, straightening up and carefully pulling his pants back up. He does up the belt and grabs a handful of paper towels from the dispenser, uses them to clear a few drops of sticky cum from his pants. He tosses the used paper into the bin, moves around Katsuki’s crumpled form to wash his hands in the sink, then steps across the bathroom and pulls open the door.
He disappears without a word, leaving Katsuki sprawled on the floor. The dirty tiles are sticky with cum and as he stares down, he watches blood drip against the white substance. A hand flies to his head, clutching at his throbbing forehead. His thighs ache, asshole searing as consciousness fades in and out. He feels hazy. Wrong. Dizzy and weird.
And he’s alone now. Safe. Except he’s not. Not really. Because he just. He was just raped. Raped. The word tastes bitter on his tongue, even though he doesn’t dare speak it aloud. How did he let this happen? How could he have let himself be caught and used in such an awful, demeaning manner. And he came. He literally fucking came as the man fucked him. Like some repulsive, pleasure seeking wimp. He’s disgusting. Pathetic. Weak and vile.
His asshole pulses as a fresh stab of pain tears through him and suddenly his stomach is sloshing and churning. He feels sick. Nauseous. He’s gonna throw up.
Desperately, he claws at the ground, trying to drag himself upright. His stomach tenses, spasming as it tries to force up its contents. He gags, leans over, lets his mouth fall open. Spit slides from his lower lip, spilling onto the tiles as his body convulses with a violent heave. He feels the vomit rush up his throat, splatter onto the tiles to join cum and blood and whatever other filth already coats the gross surface.
His eyes squeeze shut, burning with fresh tears. Sobs claw up his throat and he jolts forward again, bringing up another mouthful of sick. And then he’s coughing, gagging, trying to catch his breath through the heart wrenching sobs that ravage his body. His head spins and twists and he’s barely aware of his surroundings. Doesn’t know where he is anymore because this is wrong. All wrong and he’s scared and lost and can’t do this. He can’t he can’t he can’t.
He needs to get out of here. Needs to leave before the man comes back. But he can’t move. His limbs are solid lead and he’s lost all control over them. Even as he shifts and begs them to answer, they refuse to respond. So he’s stuck here, in a miserable heap on the floor of some public bathroom. Kneeling in vomit and cum and blood.
He curls into himself, rocks back and forth, cries and cries as his heart thuds against his chest, pounds so violently he feels like it’s about to jump out. He needs help. Needs Shouto. Shouto, Shouto, Shouto. He could call. Call for help. That’s what you’re supposed to do in this situation, right?
He forces his hand to move, fingers scrabbling at his jacket pocket. His phone is in the zipped pocket there. He feels it solid and familiar against his fingers. Every movement is a struggle, but he finally gets the zipper undone and drags the phone out of his pocket. The screen blurs before his eyes and he feels another wave of nausea crash over him, but he fights through it. Swipes up and navigates to Shouto’s contact. Maybe he should be calling the police. Maybe, maybe. But he needs Shouto right now. Shouto will make everything alright. He trusts him and needs him. Needs him right now because he doesn’t think he can stand having the authorities stare down at him. Ask a million questions. This is fine. He’ll be okay. He just needs Shouto to come pick him up. Take him home so he can crawl into the shower. Sit under the hot water and scrub until his skin is red and raw and never come out.
He presses the call button and waits. Listens as the soft ring mixes with his quiet sobs. And then the call connects and Shouto’s voice filters through.
“Kats? Where are you? I thought you’d be home by now. I’ve got the water boiling but I didn’t want to start until—Kats?” He breaks off as a sob bubbles up in Katsuki’s throat.
“Sh-Sho.” Katsuki’s voice breaks on the word, shaking so bad it’s barely audible.
“Kats what’s going on? Are you okay?” Shouto’s voice is frantic now. Desperate.
“Can—” Katsuki breaks off, swallows thickly. “Can you pick. Pick me up?”
“Yes. Yes. Of course. Where are you?”
Katsuki looks down at his phone, blinks as the surface blurs before his eyes. He sends the location to Shouto, unable to find the words to verbally respond.
“Okay. Okay. I’m on my way. Hold on. Can you tell me what happened?”
Katsuki shakes his head, shudders. Shouto can’t see him. He knows that. “I…” He gulps in a shaky breath, lets it out through clenched teeth. His stomach spasms and for a moment he thinks he’s going to throw up again, but the feeling stills, settling back to the steady thrum of nausea hovering just below the surface. “I wanna go home.” The words spill from his lips, catching on a sharp sob.
Shouto’s voice is tight with panic when he responds. “Shit. Okay. I’m coming, Kats. Just stay on the line, okay. Are you hurt?”
Katsuki swallows hard, looks down at the blood smeared over his hand. Dimly, he wonders if his ass is bleeding too. Probably, with the way it burns. The thought sends a jolt of panic through him and his voice wavers when he whispers into the phone. “S-sort of.”
“Sort of?” The sound of a car door slamming filters through the phone, followed by the thrum of an engine.
“Yeah,” Katsuki breathes. “Sick.” He doesn’t know why he says that. His head is swimming and he’s suddenly so nauseous again. He feels light, spinny and floaty and he hates it. Hates the way he feels like he’s drifting away and spinning in circles at the same time.
“You’re sick?”
Katsuki doesn’t know how to respond to that. It’s wrong. He’s not sick. Not really. It’s probably the drugs. Because he was drugged. The thought registers like a bullet to the heart. A cold sense of dread crawls through his stomach, settling heavy and deep in the very pit.
“Katsuki, I’m just pulling up. I need to know where you are?”
“Bathroom,” Katsuki grits. Shouto’s almost there. He’s gonna come in and find him and he can’t let Shouto see him like this. Weakly, he tugs at his pants, drags them up his sticky, bruised legs. It’s awkward and painful, but he manages to get them over his hips and the belt fastened before the door is being thrown open.
Then Shouto’s rushing towards him, gasping out a worried cry as he dashes up to Katsuki’s crumpled form.
“Shouto,” Katsuki gasps. He twists, eyes meeting Shouto’s gaze and then he’s sobbing, fresh tears welling up to spill down his cheeks.
Shouto crashes to the ground and suddenly hands are on Katsuki, smoothing back his hair and resting against his shoulder.
“Shit, what. What happened? Katsuki…” Shouto’s hands rush over him and his eyes fall to the gash above his left eye. He sucks in a sharp breath.
The bathroom is dim and damp, lit by flickering fluorescent lights that cast an eerie glow over the room.
Katsuki curls into himself, shaking and shaking as violent sobs wrack through his body. “I. I-I. Tried. Tried to stop him. I said no, Shouto. I said. Said. No. but. But he wouldn’t. Wouldn’t listen. Wouldn’t stop. I-I.” He breaks off, head falling against Shouto’s chest as his shoulders quake with sobs.
“Kats, Kats, it’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.” Shouto’s voice is gentle, soothing, but there’s an edge of panic to it.
Katsuki presses closer to him, shoves his face into Shouto’s chest. Blood smears against his shirt but he doesn’t care. Can’t find it in himself to care. Because he needs Shouto. Needs the closeness. The comfort. The safety. “I want. Wanna go home,” he breathes, sobs against Shouto’s shirt. His fingers grip at the material, clenching so tightly his knuckles glow white.
Shouto’s hands smooth against his hair, brushing it back from Katsuki’s face. “Okay. Okay. We can go home. Just…” He hesitates, Katsuki can feel his muscles tense beneath him. “Just give me a minute. I need to stop the bleeding on your head.”
Katsuki nods, swallows thickly as Shouto pulls a small first aid kit out of his bag.
He does a quick, patch up job. Just a little antiseptic and a patch of gauze taped to his forehead.
Katsuki notices his fingers shake slightly as he works. Does he know? He can’t. At least not all of it. But he suspects. Probably. He’s smart. And suddenly shame and horror well within him because he let this happen. He wasn’t strong enough. He should’ve fought harder. Even without his quirk.
“Okay. Alright. Let’s go.” He reaches down, wraps his arms around Katsuki’s waist and hauls him upright. “The car isn’t far.”
Katsuki nods, buries his face in Shouto’s chest and sobs as he feels them start to move. He keeps his eyes closed until the sharp chirp of a car unlocking rings through his senses. Shouto helps him into the front passenger seat and Katsuki winces as his ass spasms in pain. Sitting is a new kind of agony and he feels fresh tears well up, spill down his cheeks.
“Hurts. Hurts,” he cries. Gasps out a shaky breath.
Shouto swallows. He’s looking at Katsuki with barely contained panic, eyes blown wide in the dark night. “Kats do… Hospital. Do we need a hospital?” The words are soft, slightly choked.
Katsuki takes in a slow breath, shakes his head. “No,” he breathes. “No I wanna go home.”
Shouto hurries around to the other side and gets in the driver’s seat.
Katsuki gets the feeling he isn’t done talking but he can’t find the energy to worry about it. He’ll have to tell Shouto. Have to explain. But his head is spinning and twisting and his heart throbs in his chest and he just wants everything to stop moving. The movement of the car doesn’t help as it pulls away from the curb. Katsuki squishes his eyes closed, swallowing and swallowing as nausea coils in his stomach. He’s shaking all over, trembling so violently his teeth clack together.
And he’s cold. So cold. Like he’s been wrapped in a blanket of ice.
As they drive, Shouto reaches out, rests a hand against Katsuki’s shoulder, rubs up and down, up and down.
It’s soft and soothing, gentle. So far from the man’s touch. A shudder runs through him and suddenly he’s jolting forward, shaking with the memory of calloused hands sliding over his hips, pressing into his thighs. The sharp agony of the man’s huge cock against his dry, abused asshole.
A sob chokes up his throat. It burns. Acid licks at the back of his tongue. He feels sick. Disgusted. Humiliated. He needs out ,out, out. Needs to get somewhere safe and curl into a tiny ball. Get away. His stomach spasms, sending nausea flooding over his chest. His breath picks up, shaky and panicked. “Sick. ‘m. throw up,” he grits out, slurs the broken syllables through numb lips.
And Shouto’s speaking, voice quick and panicked. The hand disappears from his shoulder and Katsuki cries out in alarm. He doesn’t want to be alone. Can’t be alone.
But then Shouto’s shoving something into his hands. An old white plastic bag. And Katsuki’s fingers lock around the plastic, clinging as if it’s the only thing keeping him alive.
“Shh, it’s okay. Just breathe,” Shouto murmurs in his ear.
It’s not okay. None of this is okay. Katsuki pulls the bag up to his face. Leans his head over and squeezes his eyes as tightly shut as they will go. His entire body throbs as he gags. He tries not to move but it’s hard. Hard to stay still and pain sears up his asshole, down his bruised thighs. Another heave rips up his throat and he coughs hard, crying out in pain. Tears spill down his cheeks. His face is a mess. Snot dripping from his nose. He raises a shaky hand, wipes his face.
“There, there you go. You’re okay,” Shouto soothes. He’s holding the steering wheel with one hand while the other rubs across Katsuki’s shoulders, down his back.
“I. I’m.” Katsuki sucks in a shaky breath. “I don’t feel good. Hurts.”
“I know, I know.”
Katsuki hunches over, letting the tears fall freely down his cheeks, drip over the tip of his nose. He’s shaking harder now. Maybe it’s a side effect of the drugs. Or maybe this is shock. He doesn’t know. Can’t even fully comprehend what’s happening. So he stays quiet, crying softly in the passenger seat as Shouto pulls up outside their house.
Shouto gets out and hurries around to the other side of the car. He takes the bag from Katsuki and ties it up, then pulls Katsuki carefully from his seat. His arm loops around his waist, gripping firm but gentle.
Katsuki never wants him to let go. He takes a few wobbly steps towards the house, but his legs shake and tremble, collapsing beneath him. A cry jumps from his lips, but Shouto’s scooping him up into his arms, holding Katsuki close.
Katsuki closes his eyes as Shouto carries him into the house, lays him down on the couch in the living room and drapes a blanket over his trembling frame. He’s still crying quietly, but the violent sobs from earlier have slowed so he’s just softly sniffling.
Shouto sits next to him on the couch, pulls Katsuki’s head into his lap. His fingers card through Katsuki’s hair, soft and gentle. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Katsuki curls into himself, sniffing hard. He doesn’t want to talk about this. Doesn’t want Shouto to know. “No,” he whispers. Shakes his head in some desperate hope that Shouto will stop questioning him.
Shouto nods slowly, resigned. He keeps playing with Katsuki’s hair, running the strands over and over in his long fingers. Soft hums fall from his lips. They’re soothing. Familiar.
Katsuki presses closer, savouring the gentle touch. His head is still spinning, but it’s slower now. More manageable. Maybe the drugs are wearing off. Slowly, he lifts his hand, urges his quirk to rise. A few feeble sparks escape his fingertips, but they’re barely any bigger than before. Maybe these are longer acting quirk suppressants. Or not. He doesn’t know how much time has passed since he was injected.
“Kats?” Shouto’s watching him carefully. There’s alarm in his gentle eyes. Fear.
Katsuki swallows. “I. My quirk. They…” A hiccup rushes up his throat and he swallows again. “I-I got drugged.”
Shouto sucks in a breath. Doesn’t speak for a moment. His eyes meet Katsuki’s for just a second before Katsuki looks away.
“I let my guard down. Fucking. Let myself get tricked. He was so. So normal. So good at acting. And I was tired. I thought… thought he was really hurt. But. But.” He breaks off. His eyes close and two silent tears squeeze past the lids. “I wasn’t strong enough.”
“Hey, hey. Whatever happened isn’t your fault, Kats. You’re human too. You can’t always—”
“He raped me,” Katsuki cuts in. His voice is hollow and dull, brittle. “He fucking… rapedme.”
There’s silence for a few moments. Horrible, tense, silence. And then Katsuki sobs. It’s a sharp, wretched sound. Raw emotion dragging up from the very core of his being.
“Shit. Shit. Kats I…”
“He trick—tricked me. Said he was hurt. Needed help. I… he got me from behind. Drugged. And. I couldn’t fight back. I didn’t. Didn’t have a chance. I was so. So fucking stupid. I trusted him, Shouto. Believed him. And. And he fucking—” He breaks off, brings his hands up to his face and lets out a violent sob.
Shouto’s moving then, running hands over his back. “Hey, hey, come here. I’ve got you.” His voice shakes as he speaks, trembling with fear and anger and disbelief.
Shame wells hot and thick through Katsuki. This is his fault. His. All of this. He should’ve been more careful. Should’ve paid better attention. He’s a fucking hero. He’s supposed to help people. Not be the fucking victim. And it’s so so wrong. So humiliating and shameful and he’s horrified at himself. Hates that he trusted the man. Believed him. Let him weave his twisted story.
“It’s okay. We’re. We’ll figure this out. Did… did he penetrate—”
Katsuki’s already nodding, tears falling heavy and thick down his cheeks. “I said no. I-I told him to stop. Begged.” He breaks off, coughing and sobbing and shaking.
Shouto’s hands are on him then, brushing his hair back from his face and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Okay. We… Kats we need to go to the hospital.”
“No.” Katsuki’s already shaking his head, eyes frantic and terrified. “No I can’t. Please. Please.”
“Kats we have to. You need medical attention. This isn’t something we can handle alone.”
“No. No. Please. I can’t I can’t.” He gasps out the words, hysterical with panic. He can’t go to the hospital. Can’t tell anyone about this. They’ll have hands all over him. Cold, sterile, unfamiliar hands. He doesn’t want them. Doesn’t want anyone to touch him. Only Shouto.
“Hey, shh. They aren’t gonna hurt you, love. I’ll stay with you in the room. Promise. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Katsuki’s shaking all over, his hands trembling as they rise to his hair. He digs at the strands, tugging and tugging. Sharp pain rips through his scalp and it’s good. Grounding. Solid. “I don’t. Don’t want them to touch me. Can’t. I can’t.”
Shouto nods along as he speaks, listening to every word. “I know. I know. But you know the dangers. You need help and I… I can’t give you that help.”
Katsuki curls into himself further, letting out another panicked sob. His mind goes to the courses he’d taken on sexual assault. On the risks and repercussions. The dangers. Diseases. Fuck. Fuck. And he was drugged with who the fuck knows what. From an unknown source. Horrors flash before his mind. All those slide shows. The warnings. And suddenly he’s back in that room. Taking notes on things that felt so far away. So distant. Things that happened to other people. Not him. Because he was a hero. He was the one responsible for stopping those things from happening. But he’d failed. Failed to keep even himself safe. And now that man was out there in the world. Probably tracking down his next victim and luring them in.
His breath is coming in sharp gasps and he can’t get enough air in. He’s hyperventilating. He knows this. Recognises it. But he can’t stop. And he’s scared. So so scared.
“Hey, Kats, Kats you’re okay. You’re okay, love. Just. Just breathe. Listen to my voice. I’m here. You’re safe.” He’s murmuring soft and low, repeating the words over and over again.
Katsuki clings to them, lets them ground him. Fights to pull his breathing back under control. Hands fall to his shoulders and then his cheek is pressed against Shouto’s chest. He sucks in a breath, lets it out. Closes his eyes and listens to the deep, heavy thud of Shouto’s heart. It’s faster than usual. He’s scared. Scared for Katsuki.
“I’ve got you. Just breathe.” Shouto’s repeating the same words still but it doesn’t matter. Katsuki holds onto those words. Onto Shouto’s gentle voice. And slowly, gradually, he begins to calm.
It’s a full ten minutes before he’s able to open his eyes. He blinks up at Shouto. Shifts his head against his chest. Both their heartbeats have calmed. Slowed back to a normal rate. He swallows. Sniffles wetly. “Okay,” he says, quiet, hesitant.
It’s only a single word, but Shouto seems to understand. He gets it. Always has when it comes to Katsuki. Shouto nods, gives a tiny, tentative smile. “I’ll get a bag ready. You need anything?”
Katsuki shrugs, shakes his head, swallows. “Um… Can I. I need. Can you get me some clean pants?”
“Yeah, yeah of course.” Shouto gets up, shifting his feet awkwardly for a second before disappearing upstairs. When he gets back, he holds the clothes out to Katsuki, eyes dark with concern. “Need help changing?”
Katsuki shakes his head, swallows. “I’m okay.” He doesn’t want Shouto to see. Knows his pants are probably a mess of dried cum. Cum that isn’t Shouto’s.
Shouto hesitates, but nods, turning away and disappearing into the kitchen.
Katsuki shifts across the couch, moving so he can shuffle his pants down his legs. They stick to his thighs and he winces as cold air hits his burning asshole. He kicks the pants off his feet, then his boxers, watches them drop to the floor. Deep crimson coats the inside and a lump rises in his throat. He feels sick, stomach twisting. That’s blood. Blood mixing with the white stains of cum.
He should clean up. Wants to clean up. Get in the shower and wash away all the grime, but he can hear Shouto padding around in the kitchen and he doesn’t have time. He snatches up the clean pair of boxers, drags them up over his shaky legs. The sweatpants follow. They’re soft. Too big around the waist and pooling at his ankles. Because these are Shouto’s pants. Shouto’s pants that are now going to be stained with blood and cum and ruined. Ruined by Katsuki and his patheticness.
A sob wells in his throat and he isn’t fast enough to choke it back.
Shouto hears. He’s poking his head around the corner, calling out to Katsuki.
“’m fine. Fine,” Katsuki calls shakily.
Shouto dips back into the room. His eyes fall to the soiled clothes on the floor and his face pales so fast it looks like the colour’s literally being drained away. “Shit.” The word falls limp from his lips. He looks to Katsuki but Katsuki hurriedly turns away, ashamed.
There’s silence for a few moments, tense and uncertain before Shouto finally speaks. “You ready?” he asks.
Katsuki nods. Everything in him screams at him to wait, stall, keep Shouto talking so they don’t have to leave, but he knows it will only delay the inevitable. Knows Shouto will drag him to the hospital anyway because he’s not going to let Katsuki get sicker than he already is.
Shouto carries him to the car again, holding Katsuki tight to his chest the whole way.
Katsuki misses the closeness once he’s deposited in the front seat. He grimaces, letting out a tiny grunt as pain sears again through his ass.
Shouto winces in sympathy at the sound. “I’d offer you some pain meds but I don’t want to risk it since we don’t know what kind of drugs they gave you.”
Katsuki hadn’t even thought of that, but Shouto’s right. He nods in agreement, turning back to stare down at his lap as Shouto pulls away from the street.
~*~
Katsuki hates hospitals. Hates the sharp scent of antiseptic. The burn of fluorescent lights. The overwhelming sense of grief and fear that oozes from every perfectly sanitised crevice.
As soon as they walk through the front doors, he feels his panic rise. His heart thunders against his chest as sweat collects across the back of his neck. They sit in the waiting room. Shouto holding his hand and tracing patterns on his arm as he sits and shakes and trembles.
They call his name and Shouto stands up, pulls him to his feet and holds him close. Katsuki’s grateful for the closeness. They’re taken to a private room. Katsuki sits on the bed, listens dully as Shouto speaks to the nurse. He’s shaking all over, heart racing and racing and he feels like he’s going to die. Going to keel over right there and shatter into a million pieces. He bites his lip, gnaws down on the skin. Bites and bites until copper spills through his mouth. Saliva coats his tongue and he swallows, shudders at the bitter metallic taste.
The nurse turns to him, speaking gently. She knows his name. How does she know his name?
“Katsuki. I need to ask you a couple questions, okay?”
He shakes his head, curls into himself. Refuses to open his mouth because he doesn’t want to talk about this. He knows what they’re gonna ask. Knows the kind of questions. He doesn’t want this. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t.
“He’s really overwhelmed.” He hears Shouto say. He sounds worried, frightened. A little bit desperate.
The nurse nods sadly, watching Katsuki through sympathetic eyes. “It’s alright, sweetie. Take your time.”
Tears burn his eyes as he stares down at his lap, clenches his hands together and digs his nails into the palm of his hands. He sits there, silent tears tracking down his cheeks as Shouto starts talking to the nurse, explaining what happened in as much detail as he can.
Katsuki tunes out their voices. He doesn’t want to hear. Doesn’t want to relive the experience. Wants to forget.
After a while, the nurse returns her attention to him. Explains they need to run some tests. Katsuki shudders, but nods. At least he doesn’t have to talk through this.
The tests pass in a hazy blur of gentle coaxing and quiet words. Katsuki pretends he isn’t there. Thinks about anything else. Breathes hard into the pillow and tries not to throw up as the nurse swabs his asshole and pokes and prods at his bruised body as they clean him up.
They take a blood test, and that’s okay. That’s normal. He can do that. Then she gives him a little cup, tells him they need a urine sample. And that’s okay too because Shouto goes with him to the bathroom, holds his hand and speaks soothing words to him. Looks away to give Katsuki some privacy.
He’s given two little pill bottles. One for pain, the other antibiotics to prevent infection from the injection. They gave him a little pamphlet of things to watch out for. Warning signs. He scans the paper and immediately feels sick. He’d tried to forget about all the things that could go wrong. All the dangers.
Shouto carefully takes the pamphlet from him and tucks it away in his pocket. He gives Katsuki’s hand a little squeeze.
They sit quietly in the hospital room. Katsuki curls up on the bed, lets his eyes fall closed. He’s exhausted and he can’t stop shaking. The hospital is freezing, chilling him to the bones. But then he’s being wrapped in something warm and soft. It’s Shouto’s jacket, lined with soft fleece on the inside. He curls into the garment, pulling it tightly around his shoulders.
“You’re doing so well,” Shouto whispers, giving him a small smile.
Katsuki presses up against him and lets himself drift as they wait to get the test results.
When he wakes, the doctor’s talking softly to Shouto. He blinks, glancing hazily around the room. His entire body aches but he feels floaty and light. Maybe the drugs are still in his system. It’s kind of nice.
“Hey,” Shouto says. He reaches out and rubs his thumb across Katsuki’s cheek. “How are you feeling?”
Katsuki shrugs. His mouth feels thick and heavy, like it’s been stuffed with cotton. It’s so dry it almost hurts so he just hums in response.
“The initial tests came back. The drugs aren’t at dangerous levels so the doctor said you’ll be okay to just sleep it off.”
Katsuki swallows. “What… what did they give me?”
“Quirk suppressants and ketamine. It’s a pretty common combination for… these kinds of things. But the doses were pretty low so you aren’t in any danger of overdose. It will take a few days for the… other tests to get analysed, but the doctor said we’re good to go for now.”
Katsuki nods slowly. He knows what other tests Shouto’s talking about, but he’s glad he didn’t say the word. That would make it all too real.
Shouto helps him up and they head to the car. The drive home is silent. Katsuki drifts off again, sleepy and hazy from the drugs and adrenaline crash.
The next time he wakes, it’s to Shouto’s soft voice. He drags his eyes open, blinking up at Shouto’s smiling face.
“Hey, sleepy. Feeling any better?”
Katsuki swallows thickly, assessing his current state. He’s still exhausted and shaky, but he does feel a little better so he nods. “How long did I sleep?”
“Just a couple of hours. I made some miso if you wanna try eating a little something. How’s your stomach?”
Katsuki grimaces. He lifts a hand and wavers it up and down. “Still a little queasy.”
“Yeah, nausea’s a common side effect of ketamine. And shock. But I think you should try to eat a little, if you can. Nausea gets worse on an empty stomach.”
Katsuki knows this. He’s told his friends this a million times when they were hungover and whining about feeling sick. So he’d be a hypocrite if he didn’t at least try. “Okay,” he says, soft, hesitant.
Shouto smiles and disappears into the kitchen. He comes back a moment later, holding a tray. There’s a little bowl of miso in the centre and a glass of something just to the side. He sets it down on the table as Katsuki shuffles upright.
Once he’s sitting up, Katsuki reaches out for the bowl, pushing back the long sleeves of Shouto’s hoodie that’s currently swallowing his arms. “Thanks,” he whispers, bringing the bowl to his lips and taking a tentative sip. It’s good. A little too salty for his personal taste, but not bad. He takes another slow sip, savouring the way it warms his stomach and calms some of the shivers running through his body.
Shouto sits next to him on the couch, moving closer so he can press up against Katsuki’s side. He wraps an arm around Katsuki’s waist, tugging him closer.
Katsuki lifts his hands hastily out of the way, holding the little bowl up so it doesn’t get knocked from his hands. “You’re gonna make me spill! Do you want hot soup all over your fucking legs?”
“Good to see you’re well enough to swear again. It’s the first sign of health.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah.” He takes one last sip of soup before setting the bowl back down on the counter and nuzzling into Shouto.
“You okay?” Shouto asks softly.
“Yeah. Just wanna be with you,” Katsuki mumbles, the words muffled by Shouto’s shirt. He presses his nose into the fabric, breathing in the soft, soothing scent of Shouto. A wave of calm rushes over him, draining away the terror and anxiety from before. It still lingers, deep within, but he feels safe right now. Loved. Warm.
Shouto brushes a hand through his hair, runs his fingers through the soft strands. “Good, cause I don’t wanna let go,” he says.
It’s nice. Safe. Katsuki never wants to leave that soft, warm embrace.
Shouto’s humming softly next to him, a familiar tune that Katsuki can’t quite place. He snuggles in a little closer, letting out a slow breath. His throat hurts, burning as if he swallowed shards of glass. He wants to speak, thank Shouto for everything, but he can’t grasp the words. Instead, he gestures to the table, moving his arm in a shaky swoop to indicate the little pill bottles lined up neatly on the edge. “Did they say when I can take those?” His entire body aches, throbbing with a deep, relentless pain.
“You should be able to now,” Shouto says. He reaches for the two pill bottles, squinting to read the small writing on the labels. “You should try and eat a little more too. Taking antibiotics on an empty stomach is just gonna make the nausea worse.”
Katsuki sighs but nods. He remembers one very unpleasant experience back in high school where he ignored the instructions and took antibiotics without food. It had not been a fun experience and his mum had rolled her eyes and said ‘I told you so’ in that loud, brash voice so much like his own.
He misses his mum. It’s been a while since he’s seen her. Work’s been busy and it’s hard enough to get time away, let alone have it match up with his parents’ schedules. For a moment, he considers asking Shouto for his phone so he can call her, but he’s certain the minute she hears his voice, she’ll know something’s wrong. She’s just like that. Perceptive as all shit and unwilling to back down, especially where her son’s involved. He lets out a soft sigh, tipping his head back against Shouto’s shoulder.
Shouto tilts his head, looking up from reading the little pamphlet that came with Katsuki’s prescriptions. “You okay? I can see the gears turning in your head. What’s going on?”
Katsuki sighs. Shouto’s the other person who can read his emotion’s like a book. He knows when something’s wrong. “My mum,” he says, voice heavy. “I haven’t seen her in months and I… well I guess this just got me thinking about… well… ah fuck it, I miss her, okay?” To his dismay, he feels tears spring to the corners of his eyes. Quickly, he brushes at his face, but not before Shouto sees the wetness there.
“Kats, I get it. As much as you don’t wanna acknowledge it, you went through something traumatic today. It’s perfectly normal to start thinking about… well things like that. The people you care about most.”
Katsuki huffs, staring down at his lap. His throat burns and it takes monumental effort to choke out even a few words. “I guess. I just… fuck. Shouto I was so scared. I didn’t… didn’t know what to think. I’ve had training on this. Literal fucking hours worth of training. And I still. I still.” He breaks off, panting slightly as he tries to collect himself. “I missed all the fucking signs. Didn’t realise what was happening until it was too late. And then. Even after I knew. When I realised what was happening. I couldn’t. Couldn’t stop it.” He looks up, staring at Shouto through huge, tear filled eyes. “I was helpless, Sho. I couldn’t fucking do anything and I just. I just let it happen.” The tears finally reach capacity and spill over his lashes, rushing down his cheeks in two silent trickles. He sniffs, lip wobbling as he fights back a sob.
Shouto’s staring at him. His eyes are wide, haunted. They shine as well and Katsuki realises with a horrified jolt that Shouto’s crying too.
“I… fuck. This isn’t your fault, Kats. It’s not. You were ambushed and manipulated and you… you were just trying to help a civilian. That’s your job. You did everything right and this sucks. This sucks so bad but it isn’t your fault. I know you’re convinced you could have stopped it. Drowning in a bath of self-hatred. But Kats, you are the victim here. You were taken advantage of and it wasn’t fair. It was wrong and fucking disgusting but you did everything you could.” He breaks off for a minute, panting slightly. Fire sparks across his eyes and Katsuki knows he’s serious. Knows this is one of those times he needs to let Shouto speak without interruption.
“You were drugged. You weren’t in your regular mental or physical state. Would you expect someone else to be able to see the signs in that state? To realise what was happening and fight back? No. And the same goes for you. Just because you’re a hero doesn’t mean you can’t be hurt. Doesn’t mean you don’t get to struggle or falter sometimes. And I know you hate that. I’ve heard you go on enough self deprecating rants about it, but you’re the victim here and I’m not letting you shove all the blame on yourself. Not this time.” A tear tracks its way down his cheek, tracing across the pale skin. When he speaks again, it’s a whisper. Soft, hesitant. Choked. “I was so scared, Katsuki. Fuck. So scared. I didn’t. Didn’t know what to think and I just...” And then he’s diving forward, pulling Katsuki into his arms and dragging him close. Pressing Katsuki’s face against his chest and holding, squeezing.
Katsuki buries his face in Shouto’s shirt and lets himself sob. The tears come it huge, gut wrenching sobs that wrack his entire frame. But Shouto’s there, holding him, rubbing his back and humming quietly through his own tears.
He feels hot drops fall on his cheek and he looks up, sees Shouto’s bright eyes brimming over and he knows in that moment that he’s right. That maybe there were other things he could have done, but it happened and he can’t change that. Can’t go back in time and alter his knowledge or change the way he acted. Even if he longs to do so with every fibre of his being.
“Don’t. Don’t tell anyone,” he says finally, chokes on the words and feels his throat closing up. “I don’t want anyone to know. Don’t want them to see me differently. Please, Shouto. Please.”
“Okay.” Shouto runs his hands through Katsuki’s hair, brushes it away from his face and smooths it back. “I won’t. I promise.”
Katsuki knows they’re gonna have to sort through everything at some point. Once the dust has cleared and the pain has faded into a dull background ache. He’ll have to face those horrors and conquer them, but for now, he just wants to sit there, cuddled up against Shouto and safe in his warm arms. Because this is where he belongs. This is where he finds safety and solace and everything good in the world.
Shouto rubs against his back again, words falling gently from his lips. “I’ve got you, Kats. You’re safe here and you don’t have to worry about any of that right now. We’re just gonna sit here on the couch and watch movies and you’re gonna try and finish that miso so you can take your meds and not have to sit in pain.”
Katsuki smiles a little, nuzzles his face into Shouto’s chest. “Okay,” he whispers.
Shouto reaches out and scoops the bowl up from the table, pulling it over. “You just gotta move a little so you can eat. I don’t want hot soup all over my chest no matter how adorable you look clinging to my shirt like that.”
Katsuki huffs and pulls back, pouting slightly as he removes himself from the warm safety of Shouto’s embrace. He accepts the bowl and sips at it, feeling his stomach growl eagerly as the taste hits his tongue.
They sit quietly as he finishes. Shouto doesn’t press him to hurry up or try to rush him in any way. He just sits patiently, scrolling through his phone so Katsuki doesn’t feel like he’s being watched.
When Katsuki sets the bowl down on the table, Shouto smiles, leaning over to plant a light kiss on his hair.
“Good job. Now you can take your meds and we can get some proper cuddling in.” He unscrews the cap on the bottles and hands two pills over to Katsuki, along with a bottle of Gatorade from the floor.
Katsuki hadn’t noticed it before, but it’s a good idea. He doesn’t remember much from the past few hours, but he’s pretty certain he vomited at least once so he’s probably dehydrated and low on electrolytes. He accepts the bottle gratefully and swallows the pills.
“Alright. Now, what movie do you wanna watch?” Shouto tilts his head in question as he takes the bottle back from Katsuki and sets it on the floor.
Katsuki yawns, curling up against Shouto’s chest again and letting out a soft, tired sigh. “I don’ mind. ‘m probably gonna fall asleep anyway.”
Shouto smiles. “You do look pretty sleepy. I’ll keep it quiet.” He turns on the tv, setting the volume to low so only the soft murmur of words drift through the apartment.
Katsuki doesn’t know what movie it is, and he doesn’t really care. He snuggles up close to Shouto, closing his eyes and letting out a soft sigh. His head feels a little floaty, but this time, it doesn’t bother him. It’s kind of nice.
Shouto’s hand falls to his back, rubbing in soft, gentle circles. It’s familiar and soothing. Just like his mother used to do when he was sick as a kid. And Shouto knows this. Katsuki knows he does because he told him late one night years ago after he’d come back from drinking with Kirishima. He’d been drunk and sorrowful. Homesick for his mother as he puked out all of the alcohol in the tiny bathroom of Shouto’s old apartment. It was right after they graduated high school. Before they’d admitted their feelings for each other. He’d almost forgotten about the memory, but now it rushes forward. It had been a moment of vulnerability. Of shared trust. Trust that grew and grew until suddenly Shouto was his everything. They found happiness together. The ability to be vulnerable and grow closer because of it. And that was special. Really fucking special.
“Sho?” He lifts his head slightly, voice thick with drowsiness.
“Mm?”
“I love you.”
Shouto smiles, Katsuki can see it even through his sleep heavy eyes.
“I love you too, Kats. Always.”