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It would be a cold day in hell when Bakugou Katsuki got sick, but it seemed that the devil was ready to don a hat and scarf because the moment Katsuki opened his eyes to start the day, they fluttered back shut as the morning light pierced his skull.
He allowed himself a small groan that was alarmingly nasal as the back of his hand came up to rest against his forehead and help shield his eyes. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was happening: his face was burning up, his nose felt like someone had plugged it with cotton, and even though he had a higher than average body temperature when he was feeling well, he was pulling his blankets more tightly around him to ward off the chill that was trying to settle in his limbs.
It had been years since the last time Katsuki had come down with something that was more than a minor cold, more than something that had gone away with a few extra hours of sleep and a couple of cold meds. In fact, he’s pretty sure that the last time he was sick was somewhere back in elementary school when literal snot-nosed brats didn’t know how to cover their mouths or wash their hands and their parents sent them to school anyway when they should have been home...almost the entire class had been out during that week. Since then, Katsuki had been extra diligent about his health, not only because he was adamant about using all of his time to train himself to be the best, but also because being sick sucked. Between the coughing and sneezing and limbs feeling like lead, it did nothing productive for him and left him lying around like a useless lump, and being a useless lump was NOT a trait of the future number one hero.
A quick glance at the clock told him that if he got up now, he wouldn’t have much time to do more than pull on the first uniform he found, shove his books into his book bag, and grab a protein bar to munch on during the power walk to class, and even then he’d just barely beat the bell. His lip curled at the thought. While he was someone that prided himself on being better able to adapt to the unexpected twists life threw at him (especially in heroics), he had a morning routine that was well ingrained by this point, and the thought of showing up to class without a shower, brushed teeth, or a proper breakfast made his stomach curl...though in all fairness, he wondered if the sickness didn’t have a hand in that sensation.
Three rapid buzzes signalling a new text message pulled his attention away from the thoughts of his ruined morning routine and Katsuki groped around for the phone on the shelf above his head. A whimper escaped as he tapped the screen and was blinded by the backlight, and with a mumbled curse he lowered the brightness so he could actually see, opening the new message:
[Shitty Hair]: skipping?
What an idiot. For someone that claimed to be his “best friend”, he would know that Katsuki doesn’t just skip. Knowing him though, it was some dumb joke...he and Pikachu were probably waiting for him to start screaming from the hallway, small sparks popping in his hand as he rounded the corner and threatened them within an inch of their lives. They’d laugh and throw their arms around him and continue yammering about whatever they were talking about before he got there, trying to drag him into the conversation before Sensei made them sit down and shut up so the lesson could start. They were....something. They were something, all right.
A few strokes of the keys on the screen, and:
[Katsuki]: Sick
Within seconds, the phone buzzed in his hand. Shitty Hair must have really been worried if he was replying so quickly:
[Shitty Hair]: rg?
He thought for a few seconds...it was only his first day being sick. He could go to Recovery Girl and have her fix him up and he wouldn’t end up being that late for class. He huffed, steeling his resolve to get out of bed and have this dealt with, but the moment he tried to prop himself up on his elbow to start getting out of bed, the world blurred and darkness nipped at the edges of his vision. That, coupled with the sudden, throbbing pressure at his forehead and temples had him lowering himself back to his pillows before gravity did it for him. It took a long minute for him to recover enough to look at the screen and respond:
[Katsuki]: Later. Gonna sleep
Katsuki set the phone back above his head and closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure if this was better or worse - while the light was searing, having his eyes open gave him things to look at and focus on. Now that they were closed, it was almost impossible to ignore the rhythmic pounding in his skull. He draped his arm across his face, the bridge of his nose resting in the crook of his elbow. The pressure on his eyes helped a little bit, but even having his arm out from underneath the covers caused goosebumps to pepper across his skin. He rolled onto his right side, tucking the end of the blankets underneath his feet and bunching up the excess under his chin. His nose was going to be so stuffed on that side in a minute, but for whatever reason the new position lessened the throbbing in his head, and he let himself drift.
He had clearly managed to fall into some kind of a sleep, because the next time he opened his eyes, there was a new weight sitting on the edge of his bed and fingers trailing through his hair as if it was made of fine silk threads.
Izuku - of course it would be Deku - sat near him, watching for any kind of negative reaction to the touches or his presence, but when none appeared, he relaxed slightly and continued. “Hi,” he whispers.
“Hi.” A croak in response, sounding like a cross between puberty and him having scarfed down sandpaper.
They sit together in silence for a moment longer, Katsuki lulled into an almost-pleasant doze at his boyfriend’s light touches. The bed shifts and he feels Izuku move closer, and works at focusing his eyes on wide green ones, Izuku’s face bearing a neutral but warm expression.
“How’re you feeling?”
Any other time he would have mocked Izuku for asking such an obvious question. How did he look like he was doing? Perfectly peachy, a picture of health, huddled under three blankets and barely able to breathe - he was doing just fine, thanks. But he didn’t have the energy to pick a fight, and truth be told, those three words had a lot more weight behind them than their face value. It had taken a long time...too long, looking back now...for Katsuki to understood that when Izuku asked him a question, more often than not that’s not all he was asking. He didn’t just want to know how Katsuki was feeling: he wanted to know when this happened, what caused it, do you actually need to see Recovery Girl, how much did you sleep...the list could go on for ages, honestly, but Katsuki takes a minute to soak it in, letting the unspoken questions roll around in his mind.
“Shitty,” was all he could manage in response, closing his eyes again and angling his head to press against Izuku’s thigh. The fingers never stopped moving, alternating between threading through his hair and gently petting and smoothing over it. Katsuki was surprised that he was able to tolerate it at all, though now that he thought about it, the ache in his head had lessened just a little bit.
Izuku hums to himself, most likely sifting through the pile of questions he had built up and deciding which ones needed to be asked and answered. “Have you eaten anything at all?”
Katsuki shakes his head. “Woke up, texted Shitty Hair, then dozed off ‘til you got here.”
Izuku’s fingers took a longer path now, starting at the hairline at his forehead and tracing through his hair, around his ear, and down his his neck in a gentle scratch. Katsuki shivered at the sensation, left arm untangling itself from its cocoon of blankets and wrapping around Izuku’s hips in a variation of a hug. He feels Izuku bend over and press his lips to his sweaty temple. “Did you want to take a shower?”
He nods against Izuku’s thigh again after a moment. Despite feeling cold, he can feel the slight dampness of sweat against his skin from being bundled underneath blankets all afternoon with his temperature being so high. Izuku brushed the pad of his thumb gently over the edge of his ear, and slowly helps him sit up, and while he doesn’t say a word, Katsuki can see the flicker of worry in his gaze once the world stops spinning. He knows he’ll never be able to change it, though: he’ll never be able to get Izuku and his too big heart to stop caring so much for everyone above his own well being...so, with a deep breath, he allows himself to freely accept Izuku’s kindness and help, a task that, at least for today, was a lot easier than trying to plow through this on his own. And if Katsuki was being truly honest...he was grateful that Izuku’s hands had never stopped reaching out no matter how many times he had pushed them away, and was also grateful that it was getting easier and easier to reach out and take them instead.
As their relationship had progressed from enemies and rivals into a tentative friendship, and then ultimately more, Izuku had learned that Katsuki truly preferred actions to words - why waste the energy telling him that you were going to do something when you could be using that energy to do it? This meant that while Izuku was no longer afraid to tell Katsuki what he was thinking, he also stopped asking as much and started to simply do. He found it was a much smaller blow, if it was to be any blow at all, to Katsuki’s sense of self-reliance to simply do something for him than to ask if he needed help or if he needed permission to do something for him. It was why, when Kirishima had come up to his desk and showed him the text messages, he chose not to bombard Katsuki’s phone, skip lunch to go and check on him, or even ask before coming up to his room and sitting with him until he woke up.
It was also why, after helping Katsuki stand up, he slips his hands underneath Katsuki’s t-shirt and pushes it up, nudging at his elbows to get him to lift his arms. Goosebumps broke out over his exposed skin, and Izuku fought to keep his brow from furrowing, tossing the t-shirt towards the clothes hamper with boxers soon to follow. Sending a quick thanks to the building designers for the privilege of personal bathrooms in the 3rd year rooms, Izuku wrapped an arm around his waist and tucked Katsuki close to his body to ward off the shivers that were starting to appear. In a different situation, it would be almost comical at Izuku being the one to hold Katsuki so protectively, considering that the green-haired man was still a few inches shorter than his boyfriend, but there were no verbal complaints about the arrangement as Katsuki wrapped his arm around Izuku in return and Izuku pressed a kiss to his shoulder before making their way to the bathroom.
A slight twist of his wrist and steam quickly filled the small room. Izuku reluctantly untangled himself from his boyfriend’s embrace and slid open the glass shower door. “Go ahead and get under the warm water...want me to join you?” A pause, then Katsuki nodded, stepping over the lip and sliding the door shut behind him. Izuku turns and exits, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it towards the hamper as well - they were no strangers to sharing clothes or washing random articles of the others at this point in their lives. Before tugging off his own pants and underwear, his eyes drift towards the bed, and before he thought too much more about it, had stripped off the sweaty sheets and blankets and replaced them with fresh ones that he found on the top shelf of Katsuki’s closet, as well as laying out two sets of clean clothes.
Izuku re-entered the bathroom with towels and a soft greeting, setting the linens on the counter and sliding the door open slowly to not startle his boyfriend. Katsuki wasn’t shaking anymore, but his arms were wrapped tightly around himself in order to make sure that the majority of his body was under the hot spray. Twisting, he grabbed a washcloth and the body wash and set off to rubbing even, soapy circles over Katsuki’s skin. The blond was quiet and compliant, adjusting and shifting without Izuku saying much, and he even closed his eyes and let his forehead drop to Izuku’s shoulder while strong hands created suds in his hair. Once his hair was clean and the last bits of soap swirled down the drain, Katsuki resumed his earlier position, head tucked into Izuku’s shoulder and neck with the water creating a gentle massage on his back. They stood together there for a long while, Izuku’s arms in a loose hold around his shoulders and Katsuki’s looped around his waist, until Izuku murmurs in his ear that they should probably finish up before the water gets cold. He feels the slight nod of Katsuki’s head, and reaches behind him to twist the shower knob and turn the water off.
Izuku steps out onto the shower mat and dries himself quickly with one of the towels before wrapping it around his waist. He takes the second towel into his hands and starts to pat Katsuki down, soaking up the water that was starting to chill his skin before being placed gently over his head to start drying his hair. His fingers scrub the towel on his boyfriend’s head gently, not wanting to aggravate any kind of headache that Katsuki may have, before he removes it and ties it around Katsuki’s hips. Hand in hand they make their way over to the bed, Katsuki shaking his head gently at the new sheets and the change of clothes, and softly bats Izuku’s hand away when he reaches for the clothes meant for Katsuki.
“I’m sick, not an invalid...I can dress myself.” There is no bite in his words, and his fingers linger for an extra moment on Izuku’s hand from where he pushed him back. Izuku grins and pulls on his own set before picking up his discarded towel and giving his head another quick dry. By the time he’s finished, Katsuki has dressed and is watching his movements. He looked a little less miserable than before, but Izuku knew that only time and sleep were going to truly cure him.
A swell of affection makes itself known Izuku’s chest and he breathes in deeply as Katsuki climbs back into bed, red eyes peering up with a demand to know why Izuku wasn’t climbing in after him. With an ever-growing grin, he slips under the sheet and lies on his back, lifting his arm for Katsuki to settle and the blonde decided on curling up on his side with his head pillowed on Deku’s shoulder and an arm wrapped around his waist. He feels Katsuki shift and press a kiss to his jaw before returning to his original position, and tears prick at the corner of his eyes as he turns his head to bury his face into Katsuki’s drying locks. He closes his eyes as Katsuki’s breathing starts to slow, and smiles.