How Can I Make it Okay? - A BakuDeku Story

Stormy Weather

Shouta paced the floor of his apartment. Both of his problem children were on the run...again. Was he that terrible of a teacher? Had he done everything wrong? But what could he have done to fix this? How could he have kept them safe from all this? Hero society was too much, too overbearing, too much pressure. For Shouta and for his students. He was helpless, unable to protect them, unable to keep them safe. There was no way for this to go right. No way he saw any of this ending well.

Then there were the nightmares. The ones where one of his students would replace Oboro being crushed by the building and he was too slow, too far away to help. Hizashi still thought they were about Oboro but he hadn't seen his face in a long time, not since the day he realized he truly was gone. For a while it was just Midoriya and Bakugo, then came Kaminari, then Shinsou, then Todoroki. It looped through those five students constantly. Maybe it was the fact that they were constantly placing themselves in danger, or the fact that he felt an overwhelming amount of need to protect those five idiots, his favorite fucked up idiots, consistently. But it didn't make the nightmares hurt any less.

"Sho," Hizashi stood. Kirishima had fallen asleep on the couch, exhaustion from his emotions kicking in and Mina had made her way back to UA to check on Shinsou. "This isn't your fault, not this time."

"But it is Hizashi," Shouta agonized. "I should have stayed there or had someone else guarding the door, there's always two people there... or one Bakugo ... always at least one person that keeps him in place."

"If he wanted to run, there was nothing you or anyone could have done to stop this," Hizashi took his hand, leading him into the side room that was often doubled as Eri's playroom and their makeshift paper grading room. He closed the door behind him and then pulled him in. "All we can do now, is try to figure out where he would go, and keep an eye on him."

"What about Bakugo?" Shouta buried his nose into Hizashi's neck.

"Give him until tomorrow," Hizashi said. "He needs to breathe, to figure out what to do, how to process this. On top of his best friend, his boyfriend betraying him, he also saw us particularly protective of Kirishima when we're usually the ones taking care of him."

"Shit." Shouta pulled back, the realization hitting him. To some extent, he might have made Bakugo feel like he had no support system when in truth, they just didn't want it to get to the point that he'd hurt Kirishima. They knew that there was no way Kirishima would harden himself if Bakugo threw a punch or an explosion his way. He would have taken it. Would have let himself feel the pain because he thought he deserved it. And in the midst of that he forgot Bakugo's tendencies. Forgot that Bakugo too was likely to hurt himself. "What if he hurts himself tonight Hizashi? What... what if ... god how did this get so far? How did our kids get hurt this badly?"

"I'll send Todoroki a text to keep an eye out for him," Hizashi tried. "But I don't think it'll get to that point. It's been a long time since it happened last. You have done everything you possibly can tonight, let me take care of you now."

"I don't... I.. it feels..not right now," Shouta tried. Could he really pretend everything was okay for a moment?

"You don't have to forget them, you just have to remember that you need to be okay to be able to help them," Hizashi spoke slowly. Every time shit hit the fan, Shouta was reminded why he chose Hizashi and made a mental note then to do something special for him soon.

Hizashi reached out and pulled his husband towards him, using his free hand to cup his face. Shouta let him, he needed the distraction, if even for the short time before his phone, or the teen on his couch, or Shinsou or anyone else in the goddamn universe could give him more stress and contribute to the permanent red veins in his eyes. He sighed and leaned into Hizashi's grasp, his hands reaching out to grip his waist and pull him closer. His lips pressed against Hizashi's. Frantic hands unbuttoned shirts and hushed moans filled the air. It caught Shouta off guard when Hizashi picked him up and dropped him on top of the desk, pushing papers out of the way. He found himself wondering for a moment which classes papers just got shoved to the ground, but the train of thought was gone as lips bit into his neck. His eyes found the door, making sure it was locked and then Shouta allowed himself to be present, for himself, for his husband, for the first time in what felt like forever.