EraserMic Fluff

PT 22

     Shōta's eyes opened slowly, laboriously. He was in the hospital bed next to Hizashi's. His chest rose softly as he breathed, sending pain through his body. He must have been hurt during the fight. He turned his head to look at Hizashi, who was still sleeping peacefully.
      Shōta groaned as he attempted to sit up. His side sent vibrant pain through his nerves, his head throbbed, and his throat burned. He tried to sit up again.
      He coughed and gasped as more pain shot through him. Now in a sitting position, he rubbed his temples and glanced to his partner. His gaze was soft and longing, desperate for Hizashi's attention. It was selfish, he knew, but he wanted Hizashi to wake up so he wouldn't be alone.
       "...'Zashi," he breathed. It was about all he said now. He reached over, stretching his arm...and grabbed Hizashi's hand. His grip tightened. "Wake up, sunshine, will you?" muttered Shōta.
       Hizashi let out a groan, and Shōta's eyes widened. Hizashi's hand tightened around Shōta's. He struggled to open his eyes, and looked up at Shōta. Hizashi expected to be met with Shōta's usual blank expression, maybe a soft grin or a tear at most, so the image before him was surprising. Shōta was crying, not soft tears but the messy, ugly kind. His eyes were wide, but his eyebrows tilted upwards, wrinkling his face into one of inelegant relief. He grinned, tears streaming down his cheeks.
      "Hizashi...you're okay," he sobbed, moving both hands to grip Hizashi's hand even tighter.
      "Of course I am. I'd never leave you hanging, babe," Hizashi choked. "C'mon, don't cry...I'm supposed to be the sentimental one." Shōta rubbed his eyes.
      "Right. Right. I'm sorry," he whispered, "I love you so much."
      "I love you, too, Shōta. It's okay, I won't leave you." They wrung their hands together, fingers intertwining, and enjoyed each other's existence.
After a few more days in the hospital, they were allowed to leave under the condition that they'd take care of each other.

Hizashi pulled off his shirt slowly, so as to avoid any pain. Shōta unwound his bandages gently, tossing them into the trash. He changed Hizashi's bandages wordlessly. Hizashi watched him work, eyeing his silent boyfriend.
"We can return to work soon," he said. It was an inane comment; they found this out recently. He did so to repeal the silence, though. Usually their silences were warm and welcoming. This one was cold and stilted, and each second of it made him more uncomfortable. Shōta barely reacted; just flitted his eyelids.
Hizashi winced as Shōta worked on the area directly surrounding the wound. He clamped his mouth shut, grinding his teeth and looking away. Shōta glanced up.
"Does it hurt?" he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. Hizashi looked back.
"Nah, it's fine. Keep going," he said, trying to keep the concern out of his voice. Shōta's comment was normal, but...his tone was as broken as his voice. Shōta didn't continue, just looked at the floor. His breathing was ragged. "Shōta?"
Shōta coughed, and alongside his breath, his emotions escaped. His legs gave out and he fell to the floor, and his body jerked with loud sobs.
"Oh god, Shōta...it's okay, shush, it's okay," Hizashi cooed, falling on the floor beside Shōta. He pulled Shōta close. "Breathe." Shōta inhaled sharply.
"I—I was so scared I was going to lose you...so scared," he cried. Hizashi hugged him.
"It's okay, it's okay; I know. You didn't lose me, though, I'm right here," Hizashi whispered reassuringly, pulling Shōta into his lap. The movement sent a pain through his side, but he ignored it. He waited for Shōta to regain his composure.
Not long after, Shōta was readjusting his neckline and finishing up bandaging Hizashi. He curled up in Hizashi's lap, and the two took a nap together. When they woke up, Shōta stood up and went to get a drink. When he returned, he caught Hizashi grabbing his stomach in pain. Hizashi noticed him and stood up, pretending the pain was gone. Shōta left his drink on the counter and strode up to him, clearly upset.
    "Hizashi, you can't keep this kind of thing to yourself. I need to know when you're hurting so I can help you. It's unhealthy to keep it in--"
    "Unhealthy? I'm unhealthy? Shōta, look at yourself! You never tell me how you're feeling--what you're going through! You keep everything inside, even basic emotions! You don't express yourself; do you understand what that does to me, to you?!" Hizashi yelled, suddenly vicious. He leaned in threateningly. "I hate it, the way you destroy yourself. You can't call me unhealthy when you break down like you did--" He started, snarling slightly, but cut himself off when he noticed his surroundings.
    Shōta looked terrified, curling into himself in an attempt to look as small and unthreatening as possible. His eyes were wide and he was shaking slightly. Hizashi, on the other hand, was dominating the conversation. Hizashi unsquared his shoulders slightly, horrified at his own actions. Shōta didn't relax. Hizashi bent down, attempting to calm Shōta down.
    "I--I'm sorry, Shōta. I was too harsh. It's just...god, you tear me apart sometimes. You run headfirst into danger, you torture yourself over every little thing, and when I get hurt, you break down. You got hurt because I didn't pay enough attention to my surroundings, and I feel horrible," Hizashi explained, sitting down on the floor. "Look...I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I have to say this. I owe it to myself to tell you how hard it is for me, even if it might upset you. I love you so goddamn much, Shōta. So everytime you run into danger, to protect kids or not, I can barely breathe. I never wanted you to experience this, but now that you have, maybe you can understand what it's like in that waiting room. I've spent weeks at a time in there, on multiple occasions, knowing that at any moment you could die. I've broken down so many times. I never wanted you to know what it was like, but now you do. Shōta, please...it's so painful, when you get hurt. And you're always hurt. You're so selfless, I can't stand it sometimes. And regardless of how many bandages you have, you hurt internally, too, but you never tell me. Shōta, I am here for you. Don't hide your pain, not to me, and I won't hide my pain. Please. I hate it when you break down, and I know that if you just express yourself more, it wouldn't happen that often--"
    Shōta pulled Hizashi into a hug. Tears dripped off his chin onto Hizashi's shoulder.
    "Hizashi...I want to, I really do. I want to express myself, I want to talk to you about everything, but I'm so bad at it. I can't even identify some of my feelings, let alone describe them. You can talk about anything, but I can't. I just--" Shōta let out a pitiful sob, his voice hoarse from tears. Hizashi gripped him tightly.
    "It's okay, it's okay...Seems we both have to work on communication," Hizashi mumbled softly, smiling a weak smile. "I love you, Shōta."
    "Hizashi," Shōta cried, "I love you, too. I love you so much. I'm just so glad you're okay. I...oh god, Hizashi," his voice cracked as his grip tightened. Hizashi held him as Shōta coughed between sobs. He struggled to breathe. His lungs were tight in his chest, and his throat burned from the emotions that spewed out of it.
    "I'm okay, you're okay; we're okay," Hizashi murmured soothingly.
    "W-we're okay," Shōta repeated. He inhaled, then exhaled heavily. He leaned into Hizashi's shoulder. "We're okay."