the scream ripped through the sudden silence hanging in the room, interrupting the soft inhale and exhale of its only occupant. green eyes snapped open, chest heaving as hands gripped the tangled sheets, knuckles white. a name hung unfinished on the tip of his tongue, having been cut short by the noise that woke him. his noise. his scream. his stomach was wound as tight as every muscle in his body as the green eyes flicked through the room, adjusting to the darkness. with no immediate threat to be found ( yet ), his grip loosened on the sheets. the sheen of sweat suddenly freezing as he exhaled, afraid to close his eyes. afraid to see the red, unafraid gaze meeting his as it disappeared into swirling darkness. his body moved before his mind could realize what was happening, a shaky hand raking through the messy, nearly drenched with sweat green mop. his eyes bore into the floor briefly before he found himself standing, shaking slightly still, the adrenaline of the nightmare coursing through him. the shaking would only get worse if he simply laid in bed, attempting to fall back asleep, then the tears would come, then the panic, and before he would know it, the sun would be rising and he would be dehydrated and exhausted. another hand raked through the tousled mess before sleepily shoving his feet into some more subtle all might slippers, tugging on the discarded “flannel” shirt he had laying over the back of his desk chair. opening his door was nearly deafening in the silence of the dorms, but he was on a mission, and loud, creaking doors weren’t going to deter him from that. he didn’t really remember how he got to the couch with a steaming cup of tea, but there he sat, eyes focused on the rug aoyama insisted on putting between the couches, eyes tracing along the weaving.
he wasn’t startled when he felt the couch shift next to him, simply taking a sip of his tea before his green gaze met the red one he so thoroughly tried to avoid. sleepy eyes met sleepy eyes and the other sighed softly. “me too,” was all that was said from the other, the two sitting in silence afterward. one sipped his tea while the other tried his damnedest to not fall back asleep, though ultimately failed. once the tea was gone, he stood, shifting so he could shrug off the comfy blanket kaminari instead on leaving in the common area. carefully, it was placed over tense shoulders and pulled around the other. the tea mug was washed quietly and he returned to the previously suffocating room, eyes heavy with sleep.
it wasn’t that they ever planned the small pockets of quiet understanding, but nearly every time the other had a nightmare, they met on the couch. nearly no words or gazes or touches were shared between the two. no details were ever divulged and it was never mentioned outside of the quiet hours of the dorm. but every night either bakugou woke with the blanket that had previously been around his rival’s shoulders wrapped around his own or midoriya found a cup of tea waiting for him on his side of the couch.
