Archive of Our Own ^beta

There was something wrong with Deku.

Well, to be fair, he was pretty sure there was always something wrong with Deku. The nerd was the definition of problematic. Between his practical permanent residency in the infirmary and his nonstop fucking yammering, Katsuki pretty much spent his entire life wanting to shake him like a fucking maraca.

But that wasn't the problem right now. Right now, there was something wrong with Deku that wasn't necessarily Deku's fault.

Deku. Would not. Stop. Sniffling.

Now normally, Katsuki would have been irritated. Really. But Deku, despite being the biggest enthusiastic dweeb known to man, was actually pretty good at staying the fuck away from school when he was sick.

So this was an anomaly.

A really annoying and irritatingly concerning anomaly.

As far as Katsuki could remember, Deku didn't have a problem with allergies. In fact, usually he's the one who brought spare decongestants and slipped them to Katsuki just in case he was stupid enough to forget.

So he must be sick. Like, actually sick. And for some reason had deigned himself well enough to be in class and infecting the rest of them while simultaneously failing to take care of himself. Katsuki wanted to swaddle him in blankets and spoon feed him soup, but that would give away the monstrous crush he'd developed, and he really wasn't here for that. But he could yell at him. After class.

He contained an irate snarl, eyes affixing to the clock and watching the minutes tick by. As soon as the bell rang, he whirled on the nerd.

"What the fuck, Deku?"

Deku blinked up at him. His nose was red. Gross. "Kacchan?"

"What the hell is the matter with you?" he snapped. Deku just stared at him like he'd grown an extra head, and Katsuki restrained the urge to remove the nerd's head in recompense.

"I don't—" Sniff. "I don't know what you're talking about." Katsuki's glare deepened, and Deku flinched away from it. That didn't make Katsuki feel guilty. It just made him feel more annoyed. Really. "I don't understand what's wrong—"

"You've been choking on your fucking snot for the last hour," he snapped. "Why the hell are you here?"

"Hey, take it easy, Bakugou!" Floaty cut in. His teeth ground with irritation. It was a miracle he had any teeth left with how often these dickheads got on his fucking nerves.

"This is an A to B conversation, so C yourself the fuck out," he barked, not taking his eyes off Deku. He ignored Kirby's indignant huff, but felt a sort of grim satisfaction when Deku pursed his lips, clearly restraining a laugh. "Why the hell are you in class when you're sick, asshole?"

"I'm not sick."

"Fuck you."

"I'm not!" he cried. But with the louder volume came the obvious fucking rasp of a sore throat. Idiot. Katsuki's glare turned incredulous, and Izuku flushed. "Leave it alone."

"No! I'm not gonna listen to you choking on your own fucking mucus—"

"Kacchan."

Oh. What the fuck? Deku was glaring at him now, jaw set mulishly. Who the fuck did he think he was? "Fine. Spread your fucking nerd germs all over the fucking school. What the fuck ever," he hissed. He ignored the concern smacking him in the back of the brain. If Deku wanted him to mind his own business, he'd mind his own fucking business.

Unfortunately, that also meant that he was trapped in his irritation as Deku sniffled and wheezed behind him throughout the first half of the day. But he forced himself to not be worried. If the asshole wasn't gonna take care of himself, that wasn't Katsuki's problem. It wasn't.

Even if, had the roles been reversed, Deku would be checking on him constantly. Offering him tissues and cough drops and soup and—

Fuck. Not his problem. Deku had made that clear.

Until it was. Because the dork collapsed during training and Katsuki just about had a fucking heart attack.

He'd jumped from the tenth floor of a training ground building in pursuit of Tokoyami—already flushed with exertion even though they were barely twenty minutes into the exercise. Katsuki hadn't been paying attention, cataloging Todoroki's moves and planning his attack, when he heard Invisalign scream. He whipped around and felt every single one of his internal organs drop to the floor when his eyes locked onto Deku's dead weight falling through the air unguarded.

"DEKU!"

He moved without thinking, blasting himself toward Deku as fast as he could and catching him barely ten feet from the ground. "What the fuck is wrong with you!" he bellowed, before realizing that he was completely passed out. He shifted the nerd's weigh around until he was safely tucked in a bridal carry (shut the fuck up about it) and sprinted for the observation room.

Recovery Girl was not as panicked as he was, and he was so fucking relieved. "He over-exerted himself. He has a fever. Be a dear and take him back to the dorms? I'll have Aizawa excuse you for the rest of the day," she said. And he was a little rankled at that. He was gonna miss classes because the nerd couldn't take care of himself?

"Why can't I just dump him in his bed and come back?" he barked.

"Well, someone has to make sure he stays there. For better or worse, you're the only one he listens to without the threat of disciplinary action," she chuckled, smiling at him like she knew something he didn't.

He blushed. That wasn't true. Did people really think Deku listened to him? He could count the number of times that Deku had rolled over for him on one hand in the sixteen years they'd known each other. It usually took literal hours of haranguing to get him to cooperate. Getting Deku to listen to him was one of his greatest failures.

But the Cootie-Queen Grandma had spoken, and booked no room for argument. Fuck.

He sighed (growled, but whatever), and yelled for Sugar Himbo's attention. "I'm not princess carrying him," he barked. "Pick him up so that I can—" he scraped a hand over his face. This was fucking humiliating. "Piggy-back."

Sato was very carefully blank-faced and honestly, Katsuki could have kissed him for it. He could already hear Mina snickering, and he was definitely going to lock her in the washing machine again in retribution later. He gently situated Deku on Katsuki's back, tying him in place with one of Deku's dorky-looking buckled rescue straps, waited patiently until Katsuki had hooked his arms under Deku's legs. "You sure you don't want me to walk you back, dude?"

"Fuck you," Katsuki grumbled, turning to leave with Deku's smaller but fuckishly dense form collapsed against his back.

"Make sure he eats something, kiddo!" Granny called after him.

"I'm not his fucking mother!" he called back as he exited. He heard Kaminari say something in his typical 'I'm gonna poke the sleeping bear' tone, but he tuned it out. He had to focus on making sure he didn't accidentally overcorrect his balance because the nerd was fucking heavy.

And so fucking muscular. But that was something he was trying not to think about. He didn't need to think about how every last very-ripped inch of Deku's torso was currently strapped to his back as close as possible.

The relief he felt when he finally made it to Deku's room was palpable. He grabbed the spare key off the top of the doorframe (not a very original hiding place, especially considering his super-expensive All Might merch inside) and kicked the door open,  awkwardly squatting until he felt Deku hit the bed before unclipping the buckle on the rescue strap and lowering him to the bed as gently as he could.

Hey, he could be gentle with the nerd if no one was watching.

He could gently remove Deku's boots and gloves, then the outer shell of his costume so that he was in his undershirt and compression leggings.

He could carefully reposition the ripped nerd under his covers and tuck him in like the precious, annoying, adorable motherfucker he was.

Who the fuck could call him on it?

One Deku was appropriately swaddled, he stood back with an irritated huff. Now he had the rest of the fucking day to do absolutely nothing.

Oh. Well he could make something for the idiot blanket burrito to eat once he woke up. He changed out of his costume and into his sweats before trudging back out of the room and making his way to the kitchen, scouring the fridge for the ingredients he needed.

He'd pay back whoever they belonged to. Or he'd make Deku do it for being such a fucking nuisance about taking care of himself.

Case in point: the three items in the fridge with Deku's name on them were a box of leftover katsudon that was probably three weeks old, a protein shake, and a bag of baby carrots. If he looked in the cupboard, he could add instant noodles to the list, but that didn't help his case.

Shithead. He knew how to cook—Katsuki knew he did—but he chose to eat like a broke gym rat college student. It was one of the greatest stress points in Katsuki's already high-blood-pressure ridden body.

He was only halfway though making the best fucking soup ever when Deku decided to pirouette on his last fucking nerve. He heard someone stumbling through the common room, and he stomped out to see Deku, still flushed and dazed, making his way to the door in his spare school uniform. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?" he snapped, smugly amused when Deku flailed and stumbled in alarm.

"Gotta get back to class," he croaked, a little frantic. Then he stilled, examining Katsuki critically. "What are you doing here?" He sounded terrible. He might have been able to pass himself off as 'fine' earlier, but now he was noticeably unwell. Katsuki grit his teeth.

"We both have the rest of the day off. Recovery Girl's orders. If you get any closer to that door, I'm knocking you the fuck out," he threatened.

"I have to go to class!" Deku yelled, looking frustrated even as his breath came out as a wheeze. What the fuck was wrong with him?

"No you fucking don't! You passed the fuck out in the middle of a battle sim and fell off a ten story building. If you take a step toward the door, I'll kill you myself," he snarled.

"You don't understand—" he broke of with a soul-rattling cough—wet and disgusting. Katsuki raised an unimpressed eyebrow, his case made. "I can't—"

"Go to fucking bed, Deku. I'm not fucking kidding. I'm making you some fucking soup. You can explain your bullshit reasoning for trying to take on training when you can barely breathe while you choke it down," he snapped. Deku opened his mouth to protest, but Katsuki cut him off. "Non-fucking-negotiable, asshole. Recovery Girl doesn't want you in class and you scared the ever-loving fuck out of everyone. Get your ass to bed, now."

Katsuki didn't have time to untangle all the emotions that flashed across Deku's face before he stormed away, but he definitely caught the frustration and guilt.

He growled, stomping back into the kitchen. He didn't give a shit if Deku wanted to go to class. He'd tie him to the fucking bed if he had to, even if Deku hated him for it. He would make that leafy-looking asshole take care of himself if it was the last thing he did.

Deku had fallen asleep by the time Katsuki got back up to his room, soup in one hand, water bottle in the other.

He was so congested that he was snoring loudly, mouth hanging open and head bent at a weird angle. Dork. But Katsuki couldn't help the tiny flutter of fondness.

Too bad he had to wake him up before the soup got cold. "Deku." Deku snored louder in response, and Katsuki pursed his lips to hold in the amused bark of laughter. He set the water bottle down on the bedside table and reached down to shake Deku awake. "Deku, food."

Deku blinked awake, bleary and flushed and Katsuki felt his heart squeeze. This was fucking ridiculous. "Smells good," he mumbled groggily.

"It's spicy so be careful, shithead.'

Deku eyed him warily. "How spicy?"

Katsuki rolled his eyes. "Spicy enough to open your shitty sinuses. I'm not gonna blast your mouth off until you're healthy enough to be a real challenge," he grumbled. Satisfied, Deku sat up slowly, arranging himself so that he could take the bowl without spilling. "You gonna tell me why you're so fuckin' pressed about going to classes when you can barely breathe?" he asked once the bowl was safely situated in Deku's lap.

"You're exaggerating."

"You fell ten stories," Katsuki snapped.

Izuku frowned down at the bowl, gnawing on his lower lip. Katsuki pointedly ignored the urge to pull it from between his teeth with his own teeth. First of all, that would be pretty fucking gay of him. Second of all, he'd get sick too.

"I'm falling behind in class," he said finally, shrugging. "And two weeks ago I couldn't subdue that minor villain without causing extensive property damage—"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Katsuki snapped.

"I'm failing, Kacchan!"

"You got a ten-percent markdown Deku! You still beat Ponytail, so I think you're in the fucking clear! And that villain had a destabilizing quirk, that building collapse wasn't on you—"

"I should have been able to do more!" he yell-croaked back. "I should have been able to stop him before he got that far, he was only a class 3 villain, and I let him seriously injure twelve people—"

"You didn't let him do shit! He dropped a building on you and you had to get out safely! If you hadn't, way more people would have gotten hurt! Stop taking on the fucking universe, you can't do it all by your fucking self!" Katuski bellowed. "And you definitely can't do it if you can't even take care of yourself! What if you'd collapsed on patrol?"

Izuku paled. "I wouldn't have gone on patrol like this!"

"Then why would you go into training like this? So that you could give me a fucking heart attack? If I'd been two seconds slower, you'd be in serious shit, Deku. You were falling head first, and I nearly didn't get there in time!"

Deku fell silent, soup steaming in his lap as he stared down at it. Katsuki knew he'd started crying even before he'd started sniffling. "It just...it feels like no matter how hard I try, it's never enough."

Katsuki groaned out loud. Fuck, he'd have to spell it out for this adorable dickhead. "I'm gonna say this once, and then we're never fucking mentioning it again." Deku looked up at him, head tilted and tears still spilling over his boyish, constellation-filled features. Jesus fuck, he had it bad. "Your best is good enough because you're giving it your all, no matter what your all is. You taught me that. So unless you think the rest of us are weak and pathetic when things don't go perfectly, shut the fuck up and give yourself a break."

Deku gaped at him. "Kacchan—"

"I said we're never mentioning it again," he barked. "Now eat your fucking soup, idiot."

His stare persisted for a few long, uncomfortable moments, before his eyes softened and he looked all fucking fond and adoring. It rankled because suddenly, Katsuki had to restrain himself from climbing into bed and clinging to him like a fucking koala.

Deku dutifully dug into his soup, and Katsuki rifled through the medicine cabinet in his bathroom to find fever reducers and decongestant.

When Deku was done eating, Katsuki threw the bottles at his face. "Take those and drink the water," he instructed. "I'm gonna go—"

"Will you stay?" Deku asked, and Katsuki fell silent. "I uh...I don't like being alone when I'm sick," he explained. Katsuki pursed his lips, studying Deku critically. While he pondered, Deku took the pills and placed the bottles on his bedside gently and pointedly. Katsuki flipped him off. "Well?"

"Only if you sleep more," he finally said. Deku nodded quickly. "Scoot over. I'm gonna nap too," he grumbled, kicking off his slippers.

"You wanna stay above the covers?" he asked, shuffling toward the wall quickly.

"Fuckin' obviously. You're the temperature of the fucking sun. I'd blow up your room if I got under the covers," he muttered, already climbing onto the bed in the space Deku had vacated for him and making himself comfortable—facing away from the nerd so that he couldn't see the unholy blush that was currently stealing over his face. "Wake me up if you need anything. If you leave this bed, I'm knocking you the fuck out."

"Okay Kacchan," Deku murmured. Katsuki could hear the fond smile in his voice—soft and already drowsy. He kinda felt like he was choking. This dork was so fucking adorable that it was painful at this point.

He didn't fall asleep until Deku's breathing evened out, sinuses clear even if his chest still sounded gross and wet. He was probably gonna get sick.

Whatever. Totally worth it.

When Katsuki woke up an hour later, the covers had been kicked halfway down the bed, Katsuki had turned in his sleep, and was currently clutching Deku to his chest like a goddamn teddy bear. He let out a soft, strangled whine. He now knew what it was like to wake up in Deku's arms. Fuck.

Deku was snoring again, though not as loudly. His breathing sounded less shitty, too. His face was buried in Katsuki's chest—arms snugly wrapped around his waist—and Katsuki felt like the moment was being tattooed on his heart—an imprint that would last forever. It made his stomach flip and his heart squeeze but it also hurt like a bitch.

Because if Deku woke up right now, he'd spring back and babble apologies and put as much distance between them as possible.

He could let himself have this for now, right? He could bury his nose in Deku's hair and clutch him a little closer. He even tangled their legs together. He wanted to surround Deku. Seeing him free-fall—completely limp—had done what seeing Deku in danger had always done. It had flipped the switch on his urge to shield the nerd from harm, even as he ran into danger's way with reckless abandon.

Eventually, he convinced himself to let go—slipping out of the bed to take Deku's empty bowl back down to the kitchen. Fuck, he wish he'd brought their bags back, too. What the hell was he gonna do for the next two hours? Lurk in Deku's room to make sure he was okay?

Fuck no.

When classes were over for the day, Uraraka sought Katsuki out immediately, finding him listlessly watching TV in the common room . He was at his emotional limit, and watching the nerd sleep and taking care of the troublesome loser was a little too much stimulus for his underdeveloped heart.

"Kirishima has your bag," she told him. "Is there anything he needs?"

He shrugged. "More water? I don't fuckin' know."

She smiled at him, and it was a little too knowing. He bared his teeth threateningly. "Thanks for taking care of him."

He glared. "What the fuck ever. It's not like I had a choice."

She smirked, and he felt his hackles raise. "It smells really good in here, by the way. Did you cook?"

He hoped Deku wasn't too attached to Floaty, because he was gonna kill her.

He snarled, and she grinned triumphantly before flouncing toward the elevator. She paused before turning the corner. "Hey, Bakugou? Sorry for telling you to calm down this morning. I should have realized you were just looking out for him."

He rolled his eyes. "Do I look fucking bothered?"

"Sorry anyway," she chuckled. "I should have known better."

"I said it's fine, Cheeks. Get the fuck away from me," he grunted, turning up the volume on the TV and refusing to look at her.

She didn't respond, so he assumed she'd left.