Red Ink

Part 65 - Recovery

CONTENT WARNING: mentions of sex, groping, dirty talk

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"Man, casts are the worst," Kirishima grumbled, using one of Red's pens to itch at his skin underneath the shell around his arm. "How does anyone break a bone without Recovery Girl's help? Most people have to wear this shit for months! I've barely survived the week!"

Red placed a patient hand on his shoulder, trying to hide a laugh. "Just a few more minutes. Think you can stick it out, hero?"

"No," he whined. "I bet if I used my quirk I could break the cast off myself—"

"Don't even think about it. Your arm is still broken."

Kirishima huffed in annoyance and slumped back into the seat of the car. Red could hear the Dynamight Agency driver smother a laugh with a cough, clearly equally amused as Red at Kirishima's impatience.

After a week of doing his best to rest at Bakugou and Tink's house, Eijirou hadn't gotten any better at the whole 'recovery' thing. Despite the weakness in his body he still grasped at reasons to leave the bed, leave the couch, leave the house. As the days trudged on, slowly and painfully, Red had begrudgingly agreed to let him accompany her on small errands— grocery store trips, meetings with architects about her parlor construction, and at the end of the week, a trip to the ice cream shop (a subtle reward to Kirishima for managing to sleep over six hours the night before).

But that fucking cast still got the better of him. He'd been anxiously counting down the days for his appointment with Recovery Girl; now that his mobility was back, his body had the energy for her to heal up his arm and head injury, too. His leg bounced in place as he stared out the car window in anticipation.

"Are you feeling ready to start work up again?" Red asked, trying to get his mind off the cast. "Just a few more days."

"God, yes. No more resting. Never again. Unless it's on a beach somewhere."

"You should've said that sooner. We could've gone, y'know— used saran wrap to keep sand from getting in your cast," she joked.

Kirishima's face scrunched in disgust at the thought. "Can you imagine? Eugh, I can already feel it," he grumbled, using her pen to scratch even deeper in a desperate attempt to get rid of the sensation.

Red gave him a sympathetic kiss on the cheek. "Once you're healed we'll do some two-arm activities. Like rock climbing. Or the macarena."

Kirishima cackled at that, sliding closer to his girlfriend and relaxing his good arm over her shoulder to pull her closer. The redhead lowered his face to whisper against her cheek. "I can think of some other two arm activities we can do— ow!"

She'd poked him in the ribs to silence him, her cheeks already burning hot from his flirting. "Shh! We're not the only ones in the car, Eijirou," she hissed, side-eyeing the driver in front of them.

Eijirou rolled his eyes. "That's why I whispered it, sweetheart. But I can text it to you next time. I know how much you like my texts. Especially the photos— ACK!"

She pinched him that time, staring up at her snickering boyfriend with an angry pout as he winked down at her.

He was relentless, especially recently. Something about the restraints of his cast made his impatience and agitation increase tenfold, only briefly sated when Red would sneak into his sheets after everyone had gone to bed. Without hero work, Event Sector work, or access to any of his normal stress-relief activities like boxing or bench-pressing, his only lifeline was the saving grace of his girlfriend. Her lips, hands, and hips were the only thing keeping him from tipping into insanity.