Work Header

For The Glory

Chapter Text

How he made it in time was a mystery, as was how was he even alive.

Hitoshi was sure he should be dead. When he grabbed Kirishima’s car he ripped open his stitches, so, maybe he was bleeding to death the whole time and this was all just a mass hallucination. 

Tearing off a strip of his hospital gown, he wrapped it around the wound to stop the bleeding. Hissing in pain, he bit on his lower lip, narrowing his eyes. Yet, he forced his attention to Kaminari next to him, that was looking on the verge of fainting. Not really thinking, after making another tug on the wound, Hitoshi lifted his arm and ruffled his hair.

“Everything’s going to be okay.”

It felt dumb as it rolled on his tongue.

“Are you fucking sure?” growled Bakugou form the driver’s seat, as he turned to a side street, speeding down the road way past the speed limit. It didn’t matter, though. They barely made it out alive and now needed to get the fuck out of this cursed city before their attackers would track them down.

“No, everything’s shit but I’m trying to prevent a panic attack here so shut the fuck up," Hitoshi spat back at him, making one last tug on his makshift bandage that knocked the wind out of his burning lungs. Then, he got rid of the snatched rifle, placing it near his legs; and turned to look at Kaminari.

He was bleeding from several places, but nothing too serious. His blond hair dirty and sticking up from all directions from the static energy still surrounding him. Shinsou couldn’t deny the fact it was cute. Shoving the thought away, he reached to grab his palm and squeezed it tightly.

It took a moment before the blond let out a breath, indicating he was still, kind of, sort of alive. Then he turned his haggard gaze slowly, meeting Shinsou with a pair of moist eyes, blinking a few times; as if he was unsure what he was doing. 

Then it hit him and he suddenly jerked, ducking and curling into the farthest point of the back seat, trying to escape Hitoshi. For a moment his heart stuttered but then reminded himself of what he had done back there and how it must have looked for Kaminari. 

“I guess I owe you an explanation," he offered, but it came out wobbly. 

“Yeah, before I throw you outta my fucking car.”

“Thanks for the support,” Shinsou hissed at Katsuki, before reaching out once again for the terrified blond that was staring at him with a pale face. 

“Hey, it’s alright, I’m not actually working with them, okay? Take a deep breath," Shinsou spoke with the softest voice he could manage. 

“Then- then what was that?” Kaminari choked out; voice trembling. At least he finally spoke.

“Huh, well…” he had to hide the disappointment that Denki still didn’t reach out to grab his hand, thus he simply spread on the back seat, sighing heavily. "I woke up in the hospital and your fight was all over the news," he began, after the pain ceased a bit. "Kirishima burst into the room, telling me to back off and not interfere and that I'm going to ruin everything. I have no idea what the fuck he was talking about so I brainwashed him and hurried to you," he stopped to force down a groan of pain. 

For some reason none of them reacted, and it worried him that Bakugou didn't even flinch when he mentioned Kirishima. "Then I stole this gun from a police officer and took Kirishima’s car. I found you two and you looked kinda dead to me so I blurted the first thing that came to my mind, and it worked. I didn't really expect it to work but guess we’re lucky? 

"I don't know what the fuck any of the shit I said mean but I guess I got some stuff right. Or maybe Midoriya just panicked, who knows," he finished with a shrug, glancing once again at Kaminari. 

Silence spread there like mines in a field. He shifted uncomfortably, not sure if this was the sign that he somehow lost their trust in him; which wasn't good at all. Or, perhaps, they were digesting painfully slow what he had just told him. 

He couldn't judge them. They were shocked, lost. And he had no idea what exactly happened the whole time he was passed out. Deciding not to push it and to give them some time to collect themselves, Shinsou averted his eyes to look out of the window. 

They were riding for less than ten minutes. It was weird that no one was chasing them, but he decided to bring it up later. Perhaps their attackers retreated too; after all, the fuss made around the Symbol of Peace and the Symbol of Power was enough to agitate Japan.

After another ten minutes or so of heavy silence, the adrenaline rush in his veins started to fizzle away little by little. Pain flooded his body, forcing him to let out a restrained groan and press the wound again. His head was spinning a bit, vision blurry, throat sore and dry. 

Losing a lot of blood could do that to a man, but he wasn’t the only one that looked on the verge of dying, thus he found himself pushing his heavy body against the sit in front of him and patting Bakugou's shoulders. 

"The moment we reach the outskirts, let's stop somewhere and buy some first aid kit shit and food. I don't want us to die and we need to get some energy back," he said in a stiff voice, because he was Shinsou Hitoshi and that guy wasn't familiar with softness and showing care. But Bakugou wasn't too, it was alright. 


"Good idea," let out Denki, his voice still shaky but better. Shinsou shifted back, not wanting to put too much pressure on the wound, and glanced at the blond once again. 

Their gazes met, and to his surprise: Denki smiled. It was a small curl of his lips, barely a smile honestly, but his eyes softened in a way that indicated that yes. It would get better. Somehow. 

Warmness tickled in his chest, yet he didn't return the smile. Not physically, at least.

They continued the ride in silence until they reached an abandoned motel, thirty minutes away from Musutafu. 

They looked like a trio from a shounen manga that just finished fighting the main antagonist. All of them bleeding, pale, limping, worn out, dead tired and angry . As Shinsou went to book a room, Bakugou volunteered to search for a pharmacy and a place to buy them some food; Kaminari simply trailed behind Shinsou. 

The blond was noticeably uncomfortable in his own skin. He fidgeted and massaged the places where his bionic limbs were connected to his exhausted body, but said nothing. 

Luckily, or to their dismay, the only available three bed bedroom was a family room. Which meant, one large bed for the parents, and one twin sized bed for their kid. They were too tired to care, silently paid for their room and shuffled out of the lobby.

Bakugou was the first one to crash. He trudged straight down the hall to a side room, where the single bed lied, kicked off his shoes and collapsed on top of the sheets; burying his face into the pillow. The sound of soft snoring echoed a moment later. 

There was a small corridor with a closet, that led to a room with a double bed. A big window on the other side, in which was viewed the tangled forest and the road, and the moon reflected from above. To the left was the bathroom, and when continuing down the hall, was a half room with the single bed that was already claimed by a sleeping Katsuki. 

Shinsou picked up the bags of food and medicine Bakugou had previously threw on the floor, groaning in pain as he did so. 

"I need a shower," bemoaned the blond, plopping down on the double sized bed. He kicked off the ruined boots from his feet, stretching his legs.

"And I need some fucking painkillers," he muttered, finding himself lying across from the still bloody golden eyed man. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding as his back met the soft surface of the mattress. 

"Gimme some too, please." 

Shinsou fished the package of painkillers out of the bag, as well as a bottle of water. He tossed a pill and the water bottle to the blond first, letting him chug it down; then did the same. Shoving the supplies to the floor, Shinsou collapsed on the other side of the bed, shoulders bumping into Kaminari's. 

Violet, tired eyes were planted to the ceiling, as he stabilized his breath. From the corner of his eye he noticed the blond turned his head to look at him. 

"Your kidney…" 

"Died, yeah. Nothing serious."

Kaminari chuckled dryly. "Well, I guess that's why we have two." 

"I guess so..." he sighed heavily. "I gotta redress my stitches before it starts bleeding again." 

"That's a good idea." 

"Yeah," but he really didn't want to move. Kaminari's body was so warm next to his and he found himself enjoying being next to the blond. 

Shinsou didn't move. Their slow breaths were perfectly synced: for the first time since a few days he felt like he could stop and breathe. Eyes rounded at the realization that it had been only four days since this shit show had begun; it felt as if a full eternity passed. So much had happened. 

"Okay," Kaminari broke the comfortable atmosphere and sat up. But judging by his red face, Shinsou was the only one who felt comfortable. "This is fucking awkward and I can't take it anymore, sorry." 

"Awkward?" the purple head quirked an eyebrow, arms folded on his stomach and scarred fingers tangled into each other. 

"Dude," breathed out Kaminari, squinting at him. "You- we almost- fuck- ugh."

Blinking, it took him a second before he suddenly realized what Kaminari meant to say. A snort escaped his throat before he gathered control over himself. "Seriously? We almost died and that's what's on your mind?" 

Denki's already red face was now colored in a dark shade of crimson. He gawked dumbly, and once again Hitoshi couldn't deny the fact that he was adorable. Even when he was worn out, dirty, dried blood decorated his face, visible body parts, like Christmas lights. Blues and purples spread on him like chickenpox. A typical sight of a pro hero after a fight for his life. 

Hitoshi forced himself to sit with some difficulty and faced the blond. Though, gold eyes were averted from his and planted on the floor. Chuckling again, as softly as he could, Hitoshi lifted his hand and cupped his round, sticky from sweat and mud, cheek. 

"You can say we already kissed." 

Denki finally looked at him, mouth agape. "Ah?!" 

Shinsou lifted the bottle and tingled it, grinning mockingly at the startled blond. 

"That- that doesn't count, just bros drinking from a bottle, it's totally-" the only thing Hitoshi was able to do was to lean in and press his chapped lips against Kaminari's equally chapped lips. It was quick, dry, but the heat bounced between them with some electrical currents crackling between their lips as they parted. 

"Sorry," he wasn't, "Just finished what I started." 

Kaminari looked like a stray kitten that was fed with delicious fish for the first time in his life. His pupils blown, mouth agape and he was frozen. But Shinsou couldn't not smirk, warmness washing over him. He had no idea what that feeling was, but he was a spontaneous person who didn't tend to think things through. 

Perhaps that was his main problem but he knew that he wasn't going to regret this. 

When no response came, he tapped his cold fingertips on Kaminari's warm cheek and leaned to plant another kiss, this time longer, fuller, not just a small, shocking peck. 

Shuddered breaths were carried by the wind as they parted. The look Kaminari gave him was confused, as if he wasn't sure wherever it was a dream or not. The purple head found himself pushing the blond back on the bed, leaning on top of him.

Their lips met again, the passion bubbling between them. He had no idea whether love was involved, or admiration of some sort, but it was a nice stress relief. He couldn’t say that he loved Kaminari, though, after all they were almost complete strangers to begin with. 

However, something about Denki made him curious. He found himself desperate to touch and feel the other man, to devour his lips and nip at the soft looking flesh. The irony was that he never was a touchy-feely type of person. However, with Denki, it was the opposite for what it seemed.

In any case, the blond was considered attractive, pretty even, and it was a fact. Meaning, Shinsou did remember that before Kaminari retired he also had a side job as a model.

So perhaps it was just lust. Neither of them seemed to mind, though. 

"You stink," Denki suddenly blurted. The moment he realized what left his lips he exploded with another wave of embarrassment and covered his face, squeaking. "Shit- sorry that's not what I wanted to say!" 

Since when was the last time Hitoshi had genuinely laughed, it had felt like forever? Interesting, abnormal phenomenon in its finest. Yet he found himself giggling like an idiot, taking Kaminari's wrists and pulling his hands off of his tomato face.

"Don't worry, you stink too."

"Fuck you."

"I can do that to you, if you want." 

"Shinsou-" Kaminari choked out, making the purple haired man snicker slyly. 

It was fun and reliving, Denki was so easy to tease and he was fucking adorable, but he also had a valid point. They needed to clean themselves, treat their wounds, eat and rest. And perhaps take care of Bakugou so he wouldn’t die while he was in his sleep. 

"You can go first," he said, changing the subject casually, pushing himself off of the blond. 

It took Kaminari a moment to reboot, before he nodded and hopped off the bed. Already tearing his shirt off of himself, he shuffled towards the bathroom and peered inside, Shinsou following him with his eyes. 

"Shit," groaned. 

"What happened?" Hitoshi pushed himself to stand, walking to the blond and peering after him. 

The bathroom wasn't big. There was a shower, a toilet and a sink. Basic bathroom, Shinsou saw no problem at all. 

"Is there a taburet somewhere?" turning on his feet, Kaminari walked a full circle around the room. "God dammit, wait I'll go ask for a taburet or a stool that I can sit on while showering," rambled the man, dragging his shirt back on him. 

Shinsou felt dumb as he asked, "Why do you need one?" 

"I'm not sure how waterproof are those, and I finally have an arm. Not gonna ruin ‘em right after I got them," Denki answered simply. He took the magnet card and shoved to his pocket. "Be right back." 

Shinsou peered through the door, blinking. "You alive?" he asked playfully, as Kaminari jolted in a momentary panic. 

"Can’t you knock?!" cried out the blond, flinching. 

He was naked, seated on the taburet he brought earlier. His blond hair slicked back from the water, body finally clean from all the dirt and blood. A white towel was placed on his thighs, covering his lower midsection. Some water drops dripped down his strained muscles. 

The bionic limbs were placed neatly at the edge of the sink. 

For the first time, Hitoshi saw Denki without his bionic limbs, not just his arm. The parts where they were connected to were swollen and red. It looked painful. 

Kaminari was always on the smaller side, but now he looked even tinier. Shinsou wondered how light he was, without the weight of the limbs.

"Sorry, just wanted to bring you clean clothes." 

Denki's expression turned puzzled. "And where did you get those?" he snorted, as Hitoshi entered the bathroom and came closer to him with a pair of new boxers, sweatpants and a white hoodie. 

"Well, you took your sweet time showering-" 

"Have you ever tried bathing with one goddamn arm?!" 

"I'm teasing, chill. I went on a short walk to check out the place, and found a thrift shop, it’s not the best quality, but it'll do," Shinsou shrugged, towering above the blond that looked at him with a small, grateful smile from beneath. "I grabbed the boxers from a small boutique across the street. I wasn't sure what's your size so sorry if it's too big?"

"Thank you, it's alright. I'm happy with anything," the blond chuckled. "That's really fucking sweet of you." 

"Shut up," Shinsou huffed, standing awkwardly. "So uh, where should I put it?" 

"Anywhere’s fine. I'm currently gathering the willpower to put my new prosthetics on; it's gonna be a while." 


"I'm tired, and it fucking hurts. They're new, I'm not used to them, and they're uncomfortable and- ugh," he exhaled dramatically. Shinsou took a moment to wreck his exhausted mind around the situation, and then suddenly kneeled in front of Kaminari. "Sh-Shinsou?" squeaked the blond, face flushing once again as he tried to back away but couldn't. 

"I can dress you up and carry to bed, don't worry," he said, placing the clothes on the floor. He took out the underwear and brought to his lean legs- well, remaining of legs; looking up to meet his gaze. Denki chewed on his lower lip, but didn't object. 

When he pushed the underwear up to his thighs, Shinsou slipped the sweatpants, and the hoodie on. Taking the end of his trousers and boxers, he pulled them up together, while picking up Kaminari. He expected Kaminari to be light, but not that light. He almost made the blond fly with the sharp movement he made, expecting the weight of a much heavier body.

"Done," he smirked, letting himself playfully pat Kaminari’s butt as he lifted him in his arms; cradling like a koala. 

The towel dropped to the floor. 

"That was so fucking embarrassing," whined the blond, ducking his head into the socket between Shinsou's neck and shoulder. 

"Dunno," he shrugged, making his way to the bed. He dropped Kaminari there, staring at him with a satisfied grin. 

"You're surprisingly good at dressing someone,” huffed Denki, smearing on the bed.

“I’m even better at un dressing them,” Hitoshi winked.

“Smooth, aren’t we?” snickered Denki. They fell silent for a moment, sharing soft gazes with half lidded eyes, until Kaminari cleared his throat. "Sorry but, can you please tie the pants where my legs end? It's just… more comfortable for me."

"Uh, sure," he sat down, actually unsure what did it mean. He slid his fingers under Denki's thigh and grabbed the cloth, twisting it. "Like that?" 

"Yeah, just a simple knot." 

"Hm," hummed, as he worked on the knot. "The sleeve, too?" 

"Nuh, just the pants. Thanks." 

"No problem," crawling up, Hitoshi let himself press another kiss on Denki's lips. They were just so soft and inviting, and the fact that the blond didn't protest was also comforting. "How's your heart?" he suddenly asked, as in his memory clashed all of the events in the past few days like a turmoil of madness. 

Denki's expression darkened abruptly. Hitoshi knew he wasn't stable, and that usually too much pressure caused heart attacks. They didn't need Denki's heart to stop again, he didn't even want to think about it. 

"Beating," the blond finally let out. Shinsou didn't miss how his right arm was placed on his chest, on the place where stretched a horrible, pink scar, remained from his heart surgeries. There was a vague memory of a conversation with Mina about a few months ago. 

"That's good," he whispered, and then stood up. "I'm gonna go take a shower before we treat our wounds. Should I wake up Bakugou, too?" he asked, trying to light up the moody atmosphere spreading between them. 

"Nah, let him sleep for now." 

Hitoshi nodded, while peeling off the remainings of the hospital gown.