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This scrambled egg is not cooked correctly.
Maybe it’s a little undercooked, and therefore kinda slimy. Maybe it cooked for too long and some bits are burnt. Maybe it’s just not seasoned or shaped properly. It doesn’t matter. One bite makes him feel sick, two bites make him feel like his brain is going to turn to smoke and blow out of his ears, and on the third bite he’s pushing his plate away and pulling his knees to his chest and trying to crawl into his own skin and crawl out of it at the same time.
“Oh no, what’s wrong?” Izuku asks, rushing to his side. “Do you have a tummy ache?”
Kinda. He shrugs.
“Do you want a glass of water?”
No. He wants... um...
“Ice, maybe? To chew on?”
Yes. Yes, that’s right. He nods.
“Th- Th-“ he tries to say, but Izuku stops him.
“Shh, I know, don’t push yourself if you’re not up to talking.”
Good. Because he seriously can’t.
“The cloudy ice, right? Easier to chew?”
He nods. Yes, thank you.
The ice helps, a little. It at least calms the waves of nausea rolling in his gut, and chewing on something always makes him feel better. He’s starting to think Izuku might have the right idea with that silicone necklace thingy he’s always wearing. Once he’s halfway through the cup and his breathing is back to normal, Izuku sits down next to him.
“Wanna talk about it? We can use sign.”
No, he doesn’t. Because it sounds so fucking stupid, even to himself.
Yesterday was a hard day for both of them. Izuku needed to get stitches again. Katsuki had to run to the store, which is essentially a sensory overload hell lined with various produce. He burnt dinner because he was busy fussing over his boyfriend (even though he’ll never admit that’s what he was doing). One of their cats, a ragdoll named Crusher, threw up during their movie and Katsuki stepped in it with his sock on (the worst).
And then he had nightmares. The usual ones. Deku dying, Deku leaving, All Might’s end, Kamino, getting stabbed by Shigaraki, Deku getting hurt, Deku fighting him, the sludge villain, the sports festival, Deku telling him he hates him, Deku in a coma, Deku looking skinny and sickly and pale and enraged as he leaves behind his whole world for a legacy he never even asked for-
Well. Let’s just say it wasn’t a pleasant night.
He’s honestly surprised this didn’t happen sooner, but he’s pretty fucking embarrassed that his catalyst was breakfast of all things.
He shakes his head.
“Well... alright,” Izuku nods. “I’m gonna call in, okay? I don’t want you going in for patrol later. Not if you’re going into shutdown.”
Wait, no.
Kats shakes his head frantically, tapping his temple and trying to tell Izuku with his eyes that, no, he can’t miss work, he can’t-
“They’ll understand, Kacchan. You do it for me all the time,” he reminds him. “They won’t want you coming in if you’re not feeling good.”
But what about-
“And I happen to know for a fact that a few of your sidekicks have been itching for a chance to team up with Kirishima, so don’t even worry about them, okay?”
But that still leaves-
“Plus, you know how much Miruko hates doing office work. She’ll be happy to fill in for you.”
He sighs.
There’s really no argument left in him.
“I’m gonna get your blanket and stress ball after I call, and then we’re gonna watch an old All Might movie, okay? I know they’re your favorite.” He rubs a thumb over Katsuki’s shoulder. “If you jump in the bath for a little bit, I’ll make you some plain rice, too. There’s no room for error with that.”
Katsuki rests his forehead against his legs.
Thank god for Deku.
The bath is nice. Not too hot, not too cold. He likes that he doesn’t have to wear clothes or his hearing aids. Plus he’d already showered that morning, so he can just soak there.
He gets so lost in that floaty feeling of coming down from an overload that he doesn’t notice Izuku coming in with a soft, fluffy towel and his favorite shirt and boxers until he’s sitting next to him, leaning over the edge of the tub.
“Hey,” he says, and Katsuki can’t really hear him all that well, but he can read his lips perfectly fine, so he gives a little wave and points to his bare ears.
“Ah,” Izuku seems to say, then lifts his hands.
’BETTER?’
Katsuki shrugs. He still feels like his skin is buzzing and he’s really not looking forward to leaving the bath, but he’s alright. Not on the verge of a meltdown anymore, at least.
’RICE-COOKING. CALLED-WORK.’
He bites down on the inside of his cheek.
’OKAY?’ He signs.
’OKAY.’ Izuku nods.
He stands up and presses a kiss to Katsuki’s head.
’GOING?’ Katsuki signs, furrowing his brow. Izuku smiles reassuringly and leans down to whisper in his better ear.
“Gotta go ... sure rice... burn. ... me know ... -en ... done, ..kay?”
Katsuki nods, watching as he leaves the bathroom and sinking deeper into the water.
He stays there for a while longer, staring at the ceiling and slowly rubbing his hands up and down his arms (and up, and down, and up, and down, and up, and down), but eventually the water gets cold, and he stands up to drain the bath.
He hates the feeling of water dripping down his skin, making him feel all heavy and chilly and upset, but he gets through it with a whine and a little bit of smacking the heels of his palms against his shoulders. He dries himself as quickly as possible, making sure not to leave any stray droplets of water on his skin, then wraps the towel around his damp hair and gets dressed.
Izuku set out his soft socks, the ones that aren’t too tight around the ankle or too loose at the toe. If he were feeling more up to it, he might just kiss him breathless for that.
When he steps into the living room, his stress ball is on the table, his All Might blanket is folded neatly on his side of the couch, and Izuku is setting out a little bowl of rice for him.
He turns to him expectantly, a bright smile on his face, and Katsuki realizes he must have asked him something. He frowns.
’CAN’T-HEAR.’
He didn’t feel like putting his hearing aids back in after his bath. He prefers the silence when he gets like this, even if it screws with his tinnitus sometimes.
Izuku makes an ‘o’ shape with his mouth.
’GOOD-BATH?’
He nods. Izuku gives him a thumbs up and pats his spot on the sofa.
’COME-SIT.’
He gets situated on the couch. The towel comes off. Izuku rubs a little bit of lotion on his face and puts some chapstick on his lips so he doesn’t feel all cracky and dry. The blanket is carefully wrapped around him, the stress ball is placed in his hands, and he curls into the fetal position and rests his head on Izuku’s lap.
The rice goes untouched for the first half of the movie (he’s still a little wary about eating), but eventually he lets Izuku feed him a little at a time. He would do it himself, but his hands are too busy squeezing and keeping the blanket wrapped as tight around him as possible.
They watch three movies before lunch, all part of an exclusive All Might tribology that was only released in America. Izuku bought all three movies on disc when he was thirteen for nearly 33390.00 ¥, and neither of them can say that the money hasn’t been put to good use. They must have seen each movie a hundred times over the years.
Speaking of lunch, though, Katsuki’s stomach has finally settled down, and he’s as hungry as a starved predator from eating significantly less than he normally does for breakfast. He looks up at Izuku and buries his face in his stomach, hiding his smile when Izuku immediately sticks his fingers in his hair and starts to card his hand through it.
’HUNGRY,’ he signs after a while of having his hair brushed out. He thinks for a moment, then lifts his hand to his ear. ‘HEARING-AID.’
“You sure?” Izuku asks, enunciating his words so Katsuki can read his lips. He nods.
He’s feeling much better now. Drained, and still definitely not ready to leave his cocoon or let go of his stress ball, but ready enough to get his hearing back. Izuku smiles and runs his fingers through his hair one last time before getting up and retreating to the bathroom to get his hearing aids.
Once he has them in, it takes a little while for him to adjust to all the noises of their apartment (that damn fan’s running, he’ll have to ask Izuku to turn it off), but it’s nothing he can’t handle. Izuku’s kept it fairly quiet.
“What do you want for lunch?” He asks softly, sitting down next to Katsuki. “We can order takeout, if you want. There’s that new ramen place that everyone’s raving about.”
Katsuki sighs through his nose and nods, resting his head on Izuku’s shoulder. He doesn’t really care what they eat, as long as they get it fast and it has a good mouth feel. Ramen is a good option. Izuku always asks for the noodles to be delivered in a separate box so they don’t get too soggy in the soup.
“Alright. I’ll place an order right now.”
He takes out his phone and opens whatever app or website he uses to place takeout orders, Katsuki honestly couldn’t tell you, he’s an old man when it comes to technology.
“Forty minutes,” he informs him. “Anything else you wanna do? We could read or play a game or something. It’s up to you.”
Katsuki shakes his head. He just wants to stay on the couch with Izuku. Possibly take a nap after they eat. He’s tired.
’SHOW.’
“Ah... yeah, you’re right,” he smiles. “That’s the perfect amount of time to watch an episode of something. Good thinking, Kacchan.”
He does feel a little bit patronized by that, but he doesn’t stay mad for long because Izuku puts on an episode of Katsuki’s comfort show without even questioning it. He grabs his arm and squeezes it close to express his gratitude.
Izuku’s the one that gets the door when the food arrives, which he appreciates. And if he hides a little bit behind his blanket, that’s no one’s business but his.
“I got chicken for you and beef for me,” Izuku announces, filling their bowls up. “I didn’t ask for any extra spice just in case they messed it up, but I’ll add some red pepper flakes.”
Katsuki smiles when he gets his bowl in his lap. It smells delicious. Maybe this place is worth the hype. He sure hopes so, he’s starving.
As he brings his first bite to his mouth, he misjudges some movement that he makes, and spills his entire bowl on his lap.
... On his blanket.
He started making panicked noises immediately, not because of the heat, he can handle that, but his blanket, oh my god, it’s all wet, the texture’s gonna be off, it might stain, he’s gonna have to wash it and he won’t be able to have it until tonight, no no no-
“Oh, no,” Izuku mumbles, setting his bowl down. He crouches in front of Katsuki, starting to scoop the noodles back into his bowl. “It’s okay, it’s okay, we can fix this.”
Katsuki shakes his head, flapping his hands as tears start to gather in his eyes. His blanket! He can’t do this without his blanket!
“I know, Kacchan. Just let me-“
Izuku’s hands are too close, he doesn’t want-
“No!” He shouts, smacking his hands away and kicking his feet out. “Don’t- don’t touch me! Stop, stop, stop!”
“Okay! Okay, I’m not touching,” he promises lifting his hands up. “Can you hand me your blanket? I need to put it in the wash.”
“Nn!” He refuses, smacking his palms against his cheeks. He’s sobbing, now, crying like a baby, but he can’t find it in himself to care.
He ruined his blanket.
Deku got him this blanket for his birthday. It’s the perfect texture, nice and soft and heavy. It’s All Might-themed, but only his costume colors, so it’s subtle enough for him not to feel embarrassed about it. He likes to spray it with peppermint oil, the menthol calms him down and makes his eyes feel good. It’s perfect, and now he’s gone and ruined it and it will never feel the same once it’s gone in the wash.
“Kacchan, I know you don’t want to let it go, but it’s dirty, we have to clean it.”
“Please,” he whispers, pressing his hands to his eyes and rocking back and forth.
Izuku’s own eyes start to water (he’s always been overly emphatic, especially with Kacchan), and he takes a deep breath.
“I’ll put it in on it’s own. I’ll make it a quick wash, just enough to get it clean, and I’ll make sure to put in extra detergent and fabric softener so the texture stays. And I can even through some of your peppermint oil in the dryer with it, okay? It won’t take long, I promise, and it’ll be good as new when you get it back. Nothing to worry about.”
Katsuki sobs, kicking his leg against the couch hard and covering his eyes as he hands the blanket over. He hates that this is so important to him, but it is. He made a huge effort to keep the blanket clean for this exact reason, and now he feels cold and he misses the weight of it pressing down against him and his clothes are damp and his skin is screaming and, and-
And that fucking fan is just-!
“Off, off!” He shrieks, clawing at his ears. “Take ‘em off, get ‘em out, off, off, off-“
“Easy, Kacchan! You’ll hurt yourself,” Izuku says quickly, reaching over to hold his wrists as he carefully takes the hearing aids out.
Katsuki sobs and thrashes to get him off, putting his hands over his ears and curling his knees to his chest and wailing into his legs.
This is the worst. This is the worst. He’s going to explode from the inside out.
Slowly, the room gets darker, and Katsuki realizes that Izuku must be turning off all the lights. It helps with the pounding in his head a little bit, actually. He always forgets how much he hates the light until it’s gone.
After a while of him screaming and rocking and crying, his heart rate slows down and he lifts his head, hands still clamped over his ears. Izuku is standing in front of him, blanket in hand, giving him a worried look.
’OKAY?’
Katsuki shakes his head, pressing his lips together to trap the whimper about to escape them. Izuku furrows his brow.
’WAIT.’
He leaves, placing the blanket on the coffee table and leaving Katsuki to stim and weep as he stares at it. He returns with new boxers and his own hoodie, one that’s worn down and way too big for him. Even on Katsuki, it hangs down past his thighs, which he’s guessing is the point. He wastes no time getting into the new clothes, cringing at the soup still dampening his skin, but Izuku is quick to hand him a warm face cloth to wipe it off before he gets dressed.
’LAUNDRY,’ Izuku sighs, gesturing to the blanket and clothes. ’COME-WITH-ME?’
Katsuki shakes his head, lightly flapping his hands at the idea of leaving the apartment. There will be people, and lights, and noises so loud he’ll still be able to register them even with his hearing aids out.
The sleeves of the hoodie bounce delightfully against his hands as he flaps, and it sparks a little bit of good feelings in his chest. Huh.
’BE-RIGHT-BACK,’ Izuku signs, gathering up the dirtied items and heading to the laundry room in the basement.
Katsuki sighs shakily when the door closes behind him, sitting back down on the couch and flapping his hands, focusing on the thwap, thwap, thwap of the sleeves to calm himself down. Eventually, he stops crying, and he feels less panicky.
It’s okay. The blanket will be okay. Deku won’t let it get ruined, he promised.
He curls up, tucking his knees into the oversized sweatshirt and closing his eyes.
Katsuki sleeps for a long time.
He definitely needed it, after the hellish last few days and the crappy night of sleep he got in between them. Izuku lets him sleep, being careful not to disturb him when he drapes his freshly cleaned blanket over his body.
When he wakes up, his ears feel clogged and his throat feels scratchy and his eyes are swollen and his head is killing him. He feels like he’s just woken up to a horrible head cold, except his nose isn’t clogged and he doesn’t feel sick, just shitty and sore.
Side effects to meltdowns. It’s been a while since he had one that bad.
Izuku is sitting next to him, rubbing his knee comfortingly, and he sits up so he can snuggle into his shoulder. His blanket is clean. It’s soft. It smells like mint. The weight is evenly distributed. It’s perfect. He kept his promise.
“Thank you,” he croaks, and he knows he must sound like shit because he’s dehydrated to hell and back and he can’t hear his voice to control his volume. Izuku moves his hand to his back and starts rubbing there, just the way he likes.
(Round, and round, and round, and ... )
A tap to his shoulder brings his attention upwards, and Izuku points at his ears as if asking a question.
Do you want your hearing aids in?
Honestly, he feels a lot better now, but with how sensitive he is today he’s not sure it’s the best idea. Better not risk it. He shakes his head.
’DINNER,’ Izuku signs, removing his hand from Katsuki’s shoulder (wait, no-) to do so. ’YOU-HAVE-NOT-EAT.’
’WHAT-FOOD?’
’BREAD-AND-CHEESE. NO...’
Izuku pauses for a moment, clearly not knowing which sign to use next.
’NO-BAD-TASTE-FEELING,’ he decides upon. Katsuki snorts.
“Texture?” He asks aloud. Izuku nods.
’SEEM-OKAY?’
’YES. I’M-HUNGRY.’
’I’LL-BE-BACK.’
He stands, leaving Katsuki to happily nuzzle into his blanket. He doesn’t need it as much now, but he’s thrilled that it’s safe.
Izuku returns moments later and helps Katsuki drink a few bottles of water and eat some food. Normally he hates eating shokupan, it’s too sweet for his liking, but it’s perfect for tonight because it doesn’t crumble and it’s not too squishy between his teeth.
After they’ve filled their bellies, Izuku suggests that they go on a nice evening walk before the sun sets, and Katsuki agrees. He could really use the fresh air, and walking is a nice reset. Plus it being later in the day means that it’ll be cool and the sun won’t be shining in their eyes. The only downside is that he has to wear pants, but he’s actually pretty comfortable in his basketball shorts.
As they walk, Izuku holds his hand, brushing his thumb against the back of it comfortingly. It makes Katsuki’s heart swell, and he shows this by leaning his head against his shoulder and pressing a kiss to his jaw. He doesn’t have to hear or see Izuku to know that he starts to giggle and blush before returning the favor.