deercountry | [closed] Deku shut up

cw: potentially A Good Night's Sleep prompt's warnings: Severe Insomnia, Sleep Deprivation, Deprivation-induced hallucinations and mood swings.

"If we keep talking, no one's going to fall asleep," he murmurs, shadow-ringed eyes flicking between Paul's lean and strong-featured face and Kaworu's ethereal and cunning one.

Midoriya lies on his side in the bed at the new place. His arm is trapped under Kaworu's head, therefore, he is trapped forever until Kaworu deigns to move. He nestles close and tries to bury his face in Kaworu's hair. The window furnishings deny moonlight entry into the bedroom, but Paul's paleblood is a pulsing lambent glow under his skin, making it hard to fall asleep. It illuminates the decorations Paul picked out and reminds Midoriya of the silver glow of his eyes when he uses his prescience (or when it uses him).

Midoriya has, predictably, volunteered for first watch, whether or not anyone will join him. He can sacrifice another sleepless night of his brain trying to claw its way out of his skull for the sake of the two who suffered so much last month.

Paul first answers by nudging Midoriya's leg with his knee hooked over Kaworu's legs, warm and heavy with sleepiness. He's wearing more clothes that he would usually bother with in bed, tucked between fresh flannel sheets underneath the patchwork of quilts required to cover the whole of the expansive mattress, but they help mute some of the gentle radiance that filters through his skin.

(It terrified him when he first noticed it. He still doesn't like to look at it and think of the other times he's been lit from the inside like this, as harmless as this light seems to be.)

"That's right. Because I'm tricking you into sleeping first," he murmurs, slipping his hand idly underneath the hem of Midoriya's shirt just to rest on the warmth of his side beneath his ribs. He missed touch more than anything. He's been a nuisance about it for more than a week, and shows no sign of stopping - like when he joins Midoriya in nuzzling the other side of Kaworu's fluffy hair.

The room is the warmest one in the apartment, heated by a lunar orb concealed inside a slat-sided housing, and the soporific effect is difficult even for Paul to fight off. He remains (drowsily) resolute, even though it occurs to him through the fog of near-sleep that announcing his somewhat incoherent intentions might not be the soundest strategy.

Edited 2022-11-02 19:37 (UTC)

"We don't want you to stay up alone." Is the angel's response as he nestles into the noses that are pressed against his messy hair. Kaworu had tried to insist that he was capable of first watch before he nearly dozed off brushing his teeth.

Angels like himself, he concluded needed more sleep to power their S^2 organs, knowing there were no angels like him. But perhaps the energy demand was more than that for normal humans and that explained his overall sleepiness.

Plus being at the bottom of the pile didn't help. He didn't even have anymore complaints about Paul wearing a shirt.

He nestles closer if at all possible, fitting his waist under the curve of Paul's long fingers. It feels good when they touch him there. He hums with a smile into Kaworu's hair, one eye cracking sleepily open to give Paul a look. Midoriya is usually one to indulge every touch from these two, especially since Paul stopped being on fire, but they're supposed to be sleeping.

He opens his mouth to mutter that at least one of them is going to have to fall asleep, but what comes out is,

"You've let slip your plans... You should have colluded beforehand... I will defeat you..."

More honest than he'd meant to be, and he blinks a little.

Midoriya's speech reminds Paul of what he's come to think of as 'Hero talk', the specific style of speaking that seems to be a standard for Heroes in his world. He's never quite had it turned on him like this before, and it brings a low, throaty chuckle out of him as he presses his fingers down too lightly to be a squeeze.

"It's already too late," Paul says, very seriously, dropping his voice an octave for maximum (defanged) menace, "You forget, young Izuku-kun...I trained in sleep deprivation resistance with a Bene Gesserit."

The longest Paul ever stayed up was one hundred and sixty eight hours, to establish a baseline. It had been a miserable experience that left him gritty and straining against his own skin, and he'd struggled fitfully against his own diminished capacity, but he'd endured.

"I'm going to watch you sleep, and there's nothing you can do to stop me," he informs them, his sinister intent laid bare, and adds, for effect, "Hahah."

"You should go sleep so we don't have to listen to you brag." Kaworu reaches up and grabs Paul's face to shove it away from his own like Paul is something gross and slightly sticky. This would be aggressive if it weren't said with such a heavy fog of sleep. "Otherwise it will keep us all up."

And then he rolls over to slightly towards Midoriya, making it clear he is not off the hook before pressing his other hand into the broccoli boy's face. "Why don't you ever want to defeat me when I try to tell you I'm a villain."

He stifles a laugh in his throat that sounds more like a choking cough. It's like when he was a little kid playing at being Hero, shouting All Might's lines and running around with playground sand in his shoes.

"You're only a few months older than 'young Izuku-kun.'"

He pokes Paul's thigh, which will teach him to tease while seeking touch. His face is then muffled by a slim angelic hand. He's going to demur, mutter something about being too busy trying to get Kaworu to eat vegetables to defeat him, and who ever heard of a villain being defeated by eating healthy anyway? Instead, the more he speaks, the more his own words shock him:

"Because I never know how much you want me to 'defeat' you. I never know if I will scare you or remind you of being mistreated each time you ask me to push you against a wall or whatever. I want you to be happy and safe. I love you."

He falls silent and clutches Kaworu's hand. It all just spilled out of him. He's only known himself to say things without thinking about their effect on others when he's muttering over his notes. His heart beats faster in a panic against Kaworu's shoulder, and his side tenses under Paul's hand. Why did I say all that?

"I'm only a year younger than both of you," Kaworu offers, very helpfully, as though this is an assurance that he is not the baby of the group (even though he clearly is).

He wiggles closer at Midoriya's sudden confession. It doesn't surprise him nor does it vex him like it would have months ago. He prods the other boy with his foot.

"You won't hurt me. I trust you."

When Midoriya tenses, so does Paul. His first thought is Midoriya's sense for danger, but if that were the case, he'd be already launching into action, not still lying in bed with them.

But that's not it. There's something else in his voice that catches on a tripwire of his own. He pushes up to his elbow and looks down at Midoriya with a flush of quizzical concern. It isn't that the words are out of character for Midoriya - it's the opposite, if anything -

He brings his fingertips to the side of Midoriya's neck, not to his pulse but to the ridged arch of his larynx below his chin.

"How tired are you?"

Kaworu's toes poke somewhere near his shin, and he gently hooks his ankle with his. He lets his hand go and curls his arm over his stomach, slipping his hand in the warm press between him and Paul to touch them both. Kaworu doesn't get mad at him for being soft with him now like he used to. Midoriya feels called to answer Kaworu's understanding with his own, but he feels like the vulnerable one as he kisses his temple.

He looks from one set of eyes to the other, alert. His throat bobs with his swallow under Paul's hand, and it's only because he trusts him that he allows him to keep his hand on his neck. He dislikes the potential for pressure on it otherwise. It reminds him of being threatened in a mall just before starting summer training camp.

"When I laughed at what you said, I woke up more," he answers Paul readily.

"I'm awake too." Is the helpful addition from the angel between then, making sure that they know he's ready to be on watch. And perhaps, sensing Midoriya's discomfort (he can relate to touches that cause painful memories), he reaches for Paul's hand and traps it against his chest, a little playful and a little needy.

He yawns a little.

Paul wiggles his fingers against Kaworu's chest in reassurance, curving a bit more protectively around him even as his forehead furrows even further as he processes the lingering feedback from his fingertips on Midoriya's throat.

"Something's not right," he concludes, a soft utterance of surprise. Not right, frustratingly vague, imprecise. He needs more to go on.

"You haven't eaten any unusual chocolates lately, have you? Encountered an odd Pthumerian? Interacted with any magicians with a grudge?" He's not going to spring to immediate alarm or suspicion. He doesn't want to upset either of them, and there's no reason to, yet.

His body doesn't share his reasoned opinion. His heartbeat picks up against Kaworu's shoulder as his pupils dilate, exhaustion temporarily suppressed by necessity.

He nestles closer, resting his chin on the crook between Kaworu's shoulder and neck.

"I know not to eat weird chocolates," he grumbles at Paul with a look, and Paul will know why. "I don't think anyone got annoyed enough to do anything to me, Pthumerian or mage or whoever. Teacher already knows I don't like him, and I think that weird lady at Sauveterre-san's party was only annoyed that I couldn't draw better."

To be fair, his artistic skill leaves much to be desired.

"I also think Kaworu-kun is going to fall asleep at the rate he keeps yawning." Not what he meant to say. He looks up at Paul again with thin eyebrows knitting.

"I am not."

Have (not very sharp) kick in the knee for your concerns! "And it's because your art isn't very good." Wow. He's half asleep and still woke up to choose violence.

"I'm going to stay up so you can dream of drawing better and Paul can dream about whatever dumb stuff he usually dreams about. Like big rocks and birds that mean things."

There are two concerns at play splitting Paul's attention. Both are important, but one has more urgency. Paul doesn't flinch at Kaworu's kicking or squirming - he simply, with the ease of practice, wraps an arm and leg around him to pin him more or less in place.

"I'll show you a bird that means things," he says, absently, with a light squeeze to show he doesn't mean it. "Izuku-kun's art is expressive. And so is he."

Not necessarily more so than usual, but differently. The itch of intuition is only intensifying.

If this is what he thinks it is, they need to press harder on the point. Paul's tongue comes out to wet the seam of his lips, his own eyebrows knitting to match Midoriya's. Hesitantly, he advances.

"What's a question you wouldn't want me to ask you?"

He makes two sounds: one guh! when he's kicked, and another when Kaworu adds insult to injury immediately after. Neither are much of an insult or injury, but he is wounded and betrayed by a cruel angel. His face is indeed expressive, and it pinches exaggeratedly before settling to listen to Paul's question.

He could simply not speak, but it doesn't occur to him to refuse his automatic inclination to answer a beloved. He should say something harmless, some stupid little high school embarrassment, but real truths jostle for attention.

"Where my Quirk came from."

Faces lie. All Might uses his smiles to reassure people and trick his own fear all the time. Midoriya finds this difficult to do. He finds himself trembling silently, trapped within himself like a moth in a jar as he stares at Paul with eyes wide and mouth firmly shut. This is the best he can manage. A neighbor is practicing drums at this ungodly hour, but really it's his heart pounding in his ears.

He leaves the comfort of the bed and quietly pads out of the warmest room, forgetting to put on something over his T-shirt. He shivers in his cold sweat as he goes to make a round of the apartment even though he knows perfectly well that Danger Sense's range far exceeds its bounds. His body immediately misses the steady heat of two bodies tucked against it.

They've set up some practice time as discussed--"discussed" is a loose definition of the way they talk to each other, which has become a familiar balm: Bakugou threatens to obliterate Midoriya and Midoriya threatens him with the power of friendship. However, their plans have run into a snag. By now, they have learned Warmbloods are currently incapable of lying. Neither of them are inclined to it, but there are certain thoughts better kept to themselves, and a few things they keep locked up tight.

Vows of silence it is. They're both perfectly capable of that. It's not as though they're particularly chatty people. Uraraka and Iida take care of that. These two only blurt out things when they feel a need--

"Kacchan!" he snarls. "Be careful! I don't want to replace that couch again!!"

Midoriya narrowly dodges one of Bakugou's explosions with teeth bared and hair singed, the sparks of One For All a scintillating blur. To avoid onlookers and people in general, they're sparring indoors in the atrium of the secret hideout warehouse, now fully sound-proofed. It's cold, but at least it's out of the elements, and some good practice for not incurring property damage. The couch in question is secondhand and ratty, probably in need of replacing anyway, but that's a troublesome errand, and Midoriya would rather play Catch-A-Kacchan.

Edited 2022-11-02 09:12 (UTC)

[closed] Deku shut up

first week of November | A Good Night's Sleep | Paul Atreides and Kaworu Nagisa

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cw: reference to child abuse

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oops whoops sux to be you izuku

first week of November | NGL | Katsuki Bakugou