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It starts with a dull vibration in his hands, like static spreading through his fingertips to his wrists, he notices it when doing his morning stretch. Bakugou shakes out his hands in irritation one more time, willing it to leave.
He floats around the kitchen, barely remembering to actually cook and not to resort to protein powder like Shitty Hair would be soon. It only gets worse by the time Kirishima graces the kitchen, an hour later. The loud redhead greets him warmly but Bakugou barely hears it, which is stupid. His hearing aids were in. The dumb under water hearing should be fixed with the small devices.
His arms were tingling with the static now, he’s lost feeling in his fingers. He’s fine, he knows he’s fine. He wasn’t fucking weak, this was nothing. He wasn’t going to do this shit anymore, he wasn’t going to give in to this numbness.
By the time the others are getting up, he’s already on a second jog. Run it off, he’ll get feeling back by the end of the day. This...lost feeling, as idiotic as it was, wasn’t a new feeling. He just had to wait it out.
He avoids the dumbasses when coming back in, brushing past Glasses too, and up the stairs. His hearing aids weren’t working, all noises coming back muffled. He needed-fuck. He needed to focus. He couldn’t afford to be this weak, he was already so weak.
He doesn’t even think about it before turning around and stalking back into the common rooms and throwing himself lazily across the longer couch, sinking into the cushions with the force he slams into the brown fabric. The vibrations help make him more aware, he’s here. UA. Not-not anywhere else. He’s not going to fucking think about it, he’s too strong for that. He ignores the look he’s getting from Glasses and hangs his hand, palm up, on the coffee table. He stares at the ceiling, off white glaring back at him, and waiting for the numbness to fade. The voices, no matter if he couldn’t understand them, helped him. Even if he wouldn’t admit it, he didn’t have a fucking problem, the voices were grounding.
The warmth that spreads across his hand nearly makes him jump, but instead he turns his head to sneer at-.
Deku.
The green eyes are focused on him with the same determined look that usually meant Bakugou’s life was about to get ten times more difficult-the sluge villain and why the fuck are you running towards the threat stupid Deku, he had it! He didn’t need a fucking quirkless-.
Deku gives him a smile, squeezing his hand and spreading more feeling up his arm. Deku doesn’t speak, simply holds his hand and stares at him with far too understanding eyes.
Five slow seconds go by before Bakugou looks at the ceiling again but makes no more to let go, doesn't even let the snarl out, just leaves Deku to do what he will. The touch, the warmth, was always something that kept him grounded. Deku knew too much about that, knew too much about Bakugou, when he didn’t know shit about Deku anymore. One hand stays locked with his own, before a seconded scared hand rubs up his arm to his shoulder.
He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes with the message as his limbs slowly regain feelings.The hand ghosts over his chest, not too much press and away from his neck, sliding down his other arm and holding his other hand.
The room starts to sound a bit clear, Shitty Hair was talking in the background. Deku was snapping back-.
Deku was what?
He snarls as Deku pulls at his arms, pulling back. He didn’t want to sit up.
Deku gives one more pull-when did the shit get so strong?-and gets Bakugou to sit up.
“Fucker.” He mutters, still not opening his eyes. Dammit, who else was in here? Damm Deku couldn’t mind his own business.
He grumbles as Deku slides behind him, sliding his hand over the length of his arm and to gently cup the back of his head, rough hands guiding him back to the smaller boy’s chest and the hand holding the back of his head snaking up to run through his hair. He never lets go of the original hand, he keeps his fingers curled with Bakugou’s as they lay there. He’s making his breaking deeper than normal, damm Deku knew too much. His heartbeat echoing Bakugou’s own slightly quicker one.
“Stupid Deku.” Bakugou grumbles, relaxing against the idiot. Seriously, his reputation was going to be ruined at this rate.
He can feel Deku’s laugh against his back, finally returning the rest of his physical feeling back to him. He should get up, yell at everyone in the room, but…
He grumbles again, before shifting so he’s more comfortable, his head tucked into the freckled boy’s neck. Whatfuckingever, he was already here. He’d show them he was the best at fucking cuddling. Fuck Deku moving for the neck two hours at least, he made the mistake, he was going to be a pillow until Bakugou felt like moving.
He absolutely refuses to admit the content sigh as Deku starts weaving his fingers through Bakugou’s hair, lightly scratching his scalp as he does.
He can feel Deku talking, laughing again, but he refuses to care. He grips the other’s hand tightly and lets himself just feel the warmth as he lets the conversation wash over him, drowned out by his own brain and Deku’s calm heartbeat.