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It’s not like Shoto was unaware that he had a problem. Quite the contrary. Every day, he’d wake up to the same raised marks on his legs. Forced to walk around with the constant reminder.
Whenever he was younger, his father never bothered to talk about the injuries. His own scars were constantly covered by the others, so he’d never had to hide them. The brief periods he’d have with his siblings was never long enough for him to be able to talk about it; how all his overwhelming emotions seemed to bubble up inside him and that they only seemed to dissipate after his legs were covered in blood. His mama was out of the question, leaving Shoto painfully aware of his own loneliness.
But it was fine, at least that’s how it was before he got to UA.
His classmates— his friends— were excessively caring. They checked on him, often. Going from little to no interaction with his peers to constantly being bombarded with new faces every day was jarring. He loved his friends, truly, but sometimes when it all became too much he resorted back to dragging a cold blade against his skin until he could breathe again.
Shoto didn’t know why he couldn’t stop, he didn’t want to die. At least, not intentionally. He had great friends, teachers, and even a boyfriend.
Katsuki.
They had started dating after their first year, and Shoto had never been happier. Moving into the dorms and being able to surround himself with someone who understood and cared for him in all the best ways was incredible. But every now and then, he couldn’t help but find himself pressed flush against the bathroom floor with his pants around his ankles, tearing apart his delicate flesh.
Shoto had been carrying this burden alone for so long that he wasn’t sure how to bring it up to Katsuki. They had been intimate sure, but every time the others hand reached for his waist band, his blood would run cold. He’d find himself ripped out from the pleasure like haze and apologizing profusely.
But Katsuki was amazingly patient. He never pushed, not once. Which made the guilt hurt even more. These emotions were strange, he’d never felt bad about what he did. If anything, it felt as if it was inevitable. He was in control, so why did it bother him so much now?
But, everything comes to light eventually.
Shoto was overconfident, he’d never been caught before so on this particular night, he’d rushed into his room after eating in the common room and left the door unlocked.
The buildup was the same as always, one moment he was enjoying his time with his classmates and the next it was suddenly hard to breathe. His chest felt thick and his hands were clammy. Sometimes there was a trigger for these moments, but more often than not he was left astray in his own mind.
With shaky hands he knelt down at the foot of his bed, pulling out a small, unsuspecting cardboard box. He’d done this hundreds of times by now, his body moved on autopilot as he palmed the razor. A crumpled tissue lay a few feet away as he shimmied his pants down to his knees.
The relief was instant. He watched as the cut turned white before quickly filling with crimson. Shoto blinked rapidly, clearing the ever-building moisture as he stared intently at new mark. He pressed down once, twice, and by the fourth mark he could feel himself finally relax. A few stray droplets trickled down onto his hand as he pressed down as hard as he could before swiping, the rush of adrenaline was addictive as he—-
“What the fuck.” Shoto curled into himself, instinctively trying to hide his legs. He shot his head up and his breath caught. There, standing in his doorway was the person, the only person, he never wanted to have seen him like this.
Katsuki.
“What are you doing?” He accused weakly. His sleeve was becoming sticky with his blood as he tried his best to feign disinterest. Inside, his heart hammered so hard against his chest that he wondered briefly if he had caused permanent damage. Maybe then he could be gone before having to face the consequences of his best kept secret.
“What am I doing?! Shoto, what the fuck are you doing!” Katsuki uttered shakily, pressing the door shut with his foot as he staggered over. He’d noticed Shoto was off during dinner, but absolutely nothing could have prepared him for this. The fear was so evident on Katsuki’s face that Shoto couldn’t be bothered to stop the tears that began to overflow past his waterline.
Placing the razor down gently beside him, he shook his head rapidly as the lump in his throat grew. He took a few staggering breaths, the emotions he fought so hard to keep away rose once more. His hands instinctively clenched, the space a perfect replica of his razor blades.
“Katsuki..” Before he could say another word, the dam broke. Years of loneliness, isolation, and pain all flooded through him as his body shook.
Katsuki didn’t hesitate, instead he immediately gathered the other into his arms as his own tears threatened to fall. He held the other and waited for all the emotions to pass, even if he was becoming increasingly aware of the blood that was seeping into his own clothes. The problem wasn’t getting himself dirty, but rather it was the fact that Shoto was still actively bleeding.
“Hey, Shoto. I’m here and I love you, but we’ve gotta get you cleaned up, okay? Come on princess, I know you can do it.” Shoto nodded weakly into the other before Katsuki stood up and stalked over to his gym bag. Shoto always carried medical supplies, in case one of his classmates ever got hurt during training.
He watched the other bend down and tend to his wounds, his gentle hands grazed over the sensitive scars. No words were spoken, but the air around them still felt heavy. A pressure headache began to press against his eyes as his occasional sniffles were all that there was to fill the silence.
He’d never imagined that this would happen, but he felt stupid. It was stupid that he had let such a thing spiral this far out of his control. So far so that now his poor boyfriend had to stitch up the mess that he himself had made.
When it was all said and done, Katsuki helped Shoto to his feet and guided him to the bed. Shoto’s gaze remained on the floor, zeroed in on the speck of blood he had left behind on his carpets.
“Look at me.” The words, although soft, pierced through the silence so suddenly that Shoto jumped and quickly obliged. His ears rang as the blood rushed to his head, but he was determined to not mess this up. Not anymore than he already had.
“You will get through this, Sho. And I’ll be here with you.” Shoto’s lip wavered as he nodded weakly into Katsuki’s neck. Pressing his face deep into the nook of Katsuki’s neck. His tears mixed with the others sweat as they held each other.
Shoto wanted nothing more than to apologize, to right his wrongs and vow to never pick up a razor again. But the words laid idle on his tongue.
He’d spare the other from his lies, but since he loved Katsuki, he’d try.
He’d try as hard as he could.