Bakugou woke up with nothing more than a slight start and a sharp exhale, thankful that Kirishima didn't so much as twitch at the sound. Sometimes the nightmares had him sitting up straight and crying out, and other times they were entirely confined to his head.
God, he was going to be sick. Why, after all these years, did it never get better?
He gingerly climbed over Kirishima, fighting the urge to vomit but knowing he wasn't going to succeed long. He had to catch himself on the bathroom door frame as a dizzy spell hit him, and then, to his extreme frustration, he leaned over and vomited on the bathroom tile. He was hardly two feet from the toilet, for crying out loud.
"Fuck," he swore, and then missed the door frame when he reached for it again, swaying and falling onto the floor. He felt ridiculous, sitting there on his ass with his head spinning.
"Kacchan!" someone exclaimed from the kitchen, and to his horror, Bakugou saw Deku hurry over to him. He was already trying to stand up when Deku reached him, but the other boy pushed him back into a sitting position. "Don't try to stand, okay? You'll fall over again."
"I'm fine," Bakugou scowled, pretending his shoulder didn't feel like it was on fire where Deku had touched him. The thought just made him grumpier. How did he manage to embarrass himself so frequently? He'd puked on the floor right in front of him, and why did it have to be Deku?
"I'm gonna grab some stuff to clean that up," Deku said.
"Absolutely not," Bakugou said stubbornly, trying to whisper so he didn't wake Shinsou or Kaminari but also trying to get his point across. He attempted once more to stand up, but Deku shoved him down again.
"Stop being a dumbass," he said. "You're gonna hurt yourself."
"I'm not gonna hurt myself just standing up. I'm gonna clean up my own fucking vomit, like an adult." Bakugou tried to push against Deku's hand, but to no avail. He was too weak and dizzy, probably from throwing up the tiny bit of food he'd had.
"Will you just let me take care of you for once?" Deku demanded.
"What do you mean for once?" Bakugou snorted, "you already had to the other day, okay, so save it. I can take care of myself."
"Sure, but you don't have to," Deku said. "Just let me help."
"I said I'm fine."
"You are white as a sheet and you can't stand up," Deku lectured him. "You're going to pass out and hit your head or something."
"I'm not going to-"
"Kacchan." Deku's voice was firm and he looked right into Bakugou's eyes. "Please. I don't want you to hurt yourself."
It was just plain rude of him to use the big eyes and worry lines on his face like that. It was rude.
"It's my mess-" he protested weakly.
"There's hardly anything to clean," Deku reassured him. "You probably threw everything up earlier, it won't take more than a few minutes."
The room was spinning again, and Bakugou started leaning backward.
"Ah, fuck," he said, right before Deku tightened his grip and pulled him forward again.
"Okay, I'm not asking anymore," Deku said, pulling Bakugou up and lifting him into his arms.
"Fuckin' hell, dude," Bakugou complained, dizzy from trying to fight him. Why was Deku so goddamn stubborn? Why was the hallway spinning again? It was moving so much he found himself clinging on to Deku's shirt for dear life. "Put me down!"
