The Art of Listening

Chapter 6 - Hearing Isn't Listening

CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of past sexual trauma / rape / non-consensual sexual conduct. There will be mentions throughout the rest of the story. I will NOT be putting chapter warnings after this point. Please, just expect it.

Izuku

Waking up was a mistake. Drinking was a mistake. Getting so drunk that he hardly remembered the night before was a mistake. Izuku had never been so full of regret. The second he opened his eyes, waves of nausea and pain radiated throughout his entire skull. His mouth felt as if it were stuffed with disgusting tasting cotton. His limbs felt leaden. He'd never been hungover before, but he assumed that this was what this was.

A quick look around his surroundings showed that he was not in his dorm. Faintly, he recalled waking up here the night before, amongst other memories. Kirishima had done his best to make them food, and despite Katsuki's grumblings about it being on the bland side, he knew he appreciated what the redhead had done. It was late by the time they'd finally finished eating. Kirishima had insisted that he and Kacchan spend the night. Izuku had taken the bed, and Kacchan, despite Izuku's insistence that it wasn't weird for two friends to share a bed when spending the night at a friends house, had set up a futon on the floor.

Izuku glanced over the edge of the bed to look at Katsuki. The blond was still asleep, having gone to be just as late as Izuku. Normally, he was an early rest and early riser. He glanced at the clock on the side table. It was already after ten in the morning. Yeah. Katsuki was sleeping late.

The greenette actually noticed a glance of water and two loose pills on top of a note on the table. Gingerly, he picked up the note, his eyes scanning it quick.

Deku,

Take this shit. It's for the headache. Trust me. You'll fuckin' need it.

Bakugou

Izuku smiled faintly at the note before quickly taking the pills and washing them down with water. Kacchan was so sweet taking care of him and ensuring that his handover wasn't too terrible. It made his heart do little flips. Laying back against the pillows again, Izuku looked up at the ceiling of the unfamiliar bedroom in Kirishima's apartment. He had so many gaps in his memories, so many things that he didn't remember. The last thing he remembered was dancing at the party, and then the next thing he knew, he was waking up here with Ashido sitting beside him. Everything in between was just missing. Kacchan had told him not to ask the night before but had said they would talk today.

He must have done something stupid or embarrassing if Kacchan didn't want to talk about it the night before. Based on the way he'd all about spilled all of his deep, inner feelings to Katsuki after he'd woken up at Kirishima's, he could only imagine what he'd done at the party. Knowing him, he'd probably made a complete fool of himself.

He'd told Kacchan that he liked him. And the blond had just gotten up and moved away. Had Izuku read him wrong? Probably. He was too drunk to make adequate decisions. He doubted someone as handsome and confident as Katsuki was bisexual or gay. He'd jumped the gun and ruined everything by admitting that.

Maybe he could fix this. He'd only said he liked Katsuki. He hadn't specified what kind of like. It could have been a friendship like as opposed to a romantic like. Even though it was cleary a romantic type of like. Maybe he could convince the blond of that fact. He only hoped so.

Otherwise, he had no idea how he was supposed to face Kacchan now.

⤝⤞⤝⤞⤝⤞⤝⤞

They were back at his dorm. Shouto had come to pick them up, bringing with him a pair of Izuku's sweatpants and his favorite red sneakers. Because somehow, he'd lost those fancy chukka boots Kacchan had lent him the night before. He'd gone on and on apologizing that morning as soon as he'd realized. He really couldn't have been that drunk that he lost shoes, could he?