Work Text:
"Hello, Momo," Shouto uttered, before a to-go cup of hot chamomile was shoved into his hands, harried.
"Goodbye, Shouto," Momo said, shooing him unceremoniously out the back door. "I told you not to come in today!"
"Did you?" Shouto hummed, as if he hadn’t seen her text in all caps saying: STAY HOME!!!! Please.
Evading her shooing arms with a snazzy sidestep that made his head pound, he stubbornly stepped into their tea store.
"Yes. Repeatedly." She sighed. "What did Bakugou-san have to say about it?"
Ah.
Ahh.
Ahhh.
"He doesn't know," he shrugged, chorus of ahhs in his head silencing as he willed himself nonchalant.
She gave him a look. "Shouto…"
"It's fine," he cajoled. Then: "I'm fine."
He was. Sore throat and watery eyes aside, he was 100% ready to start the day.
Another sigh. "You can do paperwork in the back then. I'm not letting your germs spread to customers."
That was fair. He gave her a reassuring look that made her blanch, before heading to the back.
The warm cup had warmed his hands that froze on the way; the morning breeze stronger than the weather forecast had predicted. He took a sip, pleased as the honey soothed the scratch in his throat slightly.
He sat down by the desk, seeing his designated stack of paperwork in five neat towers. Bracing himself, he grabbed the first sheet and started.
"Oh, hey Todoroki."
Shouto turned, seeing Jirou put her bass case in its designated corner and grab her apron. "Morning," he rasped, and quickly gulped down more tea.
She quirked up an eyebrow. "Should you... be here?"
A pause.
"Should I... not be here?"
Her face was half smile half cringe. "Yaomomo said you were sick?"
"I'm not sick," Shouto said, and turned around to sneeze due to reasons having nothing to do with sickness. Dust, maybe.
He turned back to see her mouth open and close. "Alright dude."
Shouto was an alright dude, and he would prove it by finishing the paperwork, and then some. After tying the apron around her front, Jirou left with a wave, leaving him to his work. He could hear the their store sign being dragged outside, bell tinkling as the door opened and shut.
.
Alright.
Shouto was not alright. He signed his signature on the line (or was it below the line?) loopily, the squiggles squiggling off the page as he blearily blinked.
He reached for his tea, already empty save for a drop or two. Technically, he could make more, but going out front would mean admitting defeat and that was something he wasn't willing to do quite yet.
"Shouto."
He blinked awake, head lifting from the table to see Momo sitting across from him with her arms crossed. She looked like she was ready to talk business, and he inwardly braced himself.
"Hey Mohg-" he started, perfectly coherently.
"Go home," she said.
"M'ok," he mumbled.
"Hmm. Maybe I'll call Bakugou-san then-"
Mustering up his remaining energy, he sat upright and shot her an alarmed stare. "Don't."
"Shouto, you've told him you were sick hundreds of times. How come you don't want him to know when you're actually sick?"
Being sick (actually sick) was a weakness Shouto couldn't afford to succumb to. And even if he was (he wasn't), he could take care of himself perfectly fine. He conveyed all this in a shrug, half hoping his best friend would pick up on it and half hoping she wouldn't.
"You've always been your own biggest critic," Momo said gently, and reached across to hold his unwilling hand. Caught. "But believe me when I say that no one thinks of you that way, alright?"
He hummed non-committedly, avoiding her gaze he knew would be warm and kind, never having changed from when they were children.
"I already ordered a taxi to take you back home," Momo continued, and he sighed; battle lost.
As he trudged towards the door, Jirou handed him another to-go cup and a small paper bag hiding wagashi. There were music notes doodled across it, and he couldn't discern whether it was due to boredom or her attempt to cheer him up. Seeing how there were many customers already dwindling around, he assumed the latter.
Grinning warmly, "feel better soon, dude."
Touched, he smiled back. Out of it, he replied, "thank you, you too."
Her pfft was hidden behind her hand but her eyes shone with good-natured mirth. The tinkling bell signaled his hurried leave.
Despite the chilly morning breeze, the weather seemed pleasant. The sun was high in the sky now, peeking shyly behind neutral grey clouds to beam at him. He didn't beam back, but appreciated the remnants of warmth through the thin jacket he wore. He inwardly mourned the loss of his usual walk to his apartment, lamenting the fact that he wouldn't get to spend time with the cats in the alleyways.
Nevertheless, he stepped inside the taxi with a mumbled hello, hoping that the driver wouldn't be too chatty.
No such luck.
"Todoroki?!"
Shouto looked at the surprised driver, feeling surprised himself. "I am he."
But who art thee?
"You don't remember me?"
Shouto took a deeper look at the driver, resulting in an intensified headache and a vague memory of shared Pocky sticks and late night flashcards relating to Evangelion and existentialism. It did seem like he remembered the man; far from the scam he had dodged previously. "Were we in a manga analysis class together?"
"Heck yeah dude!" Sero. "We did that project on Boku no Hero together, remember?"
Hmm.
"Yes," Shouto said, because the thought of disappointing Sero even further was unthinkable.
Sero grinned. "So, where to?"
Shouto gave his address, watching as the GPS indicated that it was a only three-minute drive. He looked innocuously out the window, blaming any redness of his cheeks on the wind that breezed mercilessly outside the car.
"How've you been?" Sero asked, thankfully not mentioning the short drive.
Tired. Headache at full blast. Dizzy. Nauseous. Potential of having benign paroxysmal vertigo (ok, he might have WebMD'd his symptoms). Old habits die hard.
"Good," Shouto said, feeling anything but. "You?"
"Great!"
Great.
"So," Shouto continued, testing out the waters of small talk. "You're a driver now?"
"You have arrived at your destination," the GPS said.
He had tested out the waters and drowned. Sero saved him with a smile. "Nah, this is only a side gig. Just working odd jobs while I work on my manga, y'know?"
"Oh?"
"Yeah! It's-"
A beep interrupted them, and Sero glanced at Shouto apologetically. "Sorry, gotta get back to work. But it was cool seeing you again! We should catch up sometime."
"That sounds good," Shouto said. He pulled out his wallet to pay but Sero shook his head.
"I'm not charging a sick friend over a three minute drive, man! Go on home and rest."
Shouto was herded out of the car, business card shoved in his hands, before the door shut and Sero was off with his signature toothy grin and wave.
He glanced at his tokens of friendship; of food and drink and a promise to meet up.
Despite the chills wreaking havoc on his immune system, he felt warm.
.
The elevator was broken because of course it was.
Halfway through walking up the first floor felt like a struggle. Despite there only being one more flight of stairs before reaching his destination, Shouto felt like sitting down to brood and passing out right there and then. He knew that his new neighbour, dubbed vampiress, Toga usually frequented the stairs though, so he willed himself to work his legs. After all, skipping leg day was no laughing matter.
By the time he was finally home, he dropped all his tokens on the counter and flopped on the tatami mats like a starfish.
.
Shouto came back from the living dead to an unfamiliar sound. It sounded like clashing swords on shield and rattling metal armour and cannonballs inflicted on heavy gates and maybe he had been watching too many medieval shows with Momo.
Still, he was on high-alert. After getting an attempted silent coughing fit out of the way, he took out his fire extinguisher that Midoriya had given him. In addition to being great at putting out fires, it worked as a weapon as well- long and short distance.
He padded out into the hallway, crouching low under the counter.
So the intruder was in the kitchen. For a fleeting second, he thought it might be Touya, but he only knew how to use the microwave.
Shouto had deduced that the clanging was the pots and pans, finally seeing the light of day after being tucked away for safety. He had not deduced the who, why, and how yet, but if he stood up now, maybe he could gain the upper hand and-
Blond hair.
Vermillion eyes.
“Why the fuck do you have a fire extinguisher?!”
Katsuki.
There were many words Shouto wanted to say; many questions he had. He ended up saying glibly, "for protection."
Katsuki’s eyebrows scrunched. "You don't have a bat?"
Shouto scrunched his own eyebrows, confused. "I don't play baseball."
Katsuki’s fingers pinched the bridge of his nose in what Shouto recognized as - "oh, do you have a headache too?" - the position to quell an incoming headache.
"I will," Katsuki intoned. "And what are you doing up, hah!? You should be resting!"
"I thought you were an intruder," Shouto hummed. He frowned. "How did you get in?"
"Ponytail gave me the keys."
Traitor. "She said she wasn't going to tell you..."
Though looking back on it, she never said that she wouldn't.
"It's good that she did," Katsuki gave him a onceover, and not the sexy kind. "You're wasting away on your own."
"I'm not a decomposing corpse. I'm hardly wasting away."
"Well, you look like one."
Shouto felt like one too, not that he would admit it. Sulking, he said, "no, you."
Katsuki reared backwards, brandishing a wooden spoon in his hand and pointing it to a general direction like a warlord commanding his troops before battle. "Just go back to bed, Halfie!"
Sleep did sound good. Though- "but you're here."
It had been a while since he had seen Katsuki. Between business at the clinic picking up quickly and the chill of fall making people huddle in the tea store for warmth, their schedules had misaligned often. It had resulted in sparse, hastily eaten lunches together and featherlight kisses meaning the world before rushing off.
Red eyes softened a fraction. "I'll still be here when you wake up."
Shouto smiled, all the incentive he needed.
.
Waking up and seeing Katsuki first thing was something Shouto wished he could do everyday. The blond sat by the tatami mats, tray of soup, saltine crackers and tea before him as he scrolled through his phone.
Rather than alerting him that Shouto was awake, he lied there a few minutes longer, basking in the warmth of having Katsuki there. It wasn't often that he came over; they usually opted to go to his place since he had a stocked up fridge with ingredients to make 'the best fucking meal you'll ever have,' compared to Shouto's meager offerings of instant noodles and sixpack of Yakult.
"The soup's getting colder the longer you fake sleep," Katsuki commented idly, not looking up.
"I'm not faking," Shouto said, faking.
Raised eyebrows.
A pout.
Sighing, Katsuki pushed the tray towards Shouto, who slowly began to sit up. He glanced at his phone for the time, seeing it was almost evening. A thought struck him. "Aren't you meant to be working today?"
"Shitty Hair's got it handled," Katsuki said, though whether he was trying to prove it to himself or Shouto, he didn't know. Katsuki cleared his throat. "Besides, you're sick. What doctor would I be if I couldn't save you?"
They both blushed; Katsuki turning an angry red like he couldn't believe he said it. Shouto felt the blush spread all the way down to his toes, and let his bangs cover his face.
"M'not that sick," Shouto mumbled. He picked up a saltine cracker, letting it dip in the hearty soup. He could taste the butternut squash, blended smoothly with potato and a variety of spices. He eagerly spooned for more, including the toasted pumpkin seeds and crunchy croutons in the next mouthful as well. Then: "Thank you."
Katsuki muttered an incoherent reply; one of you're welcome/no problem/what the fuck ever over his own mouthfuls of soup, leaning back on Shouto's desk legs.
It was comforting. Shouto let the sounds of crackers breaking and spoon clanking against the near empty bowl wash over him in a peaceful lull that almost made him want to sleep again. Almost. Now that Katsuki was here, Shouto felt like sleeping was a waste.
Except, in-between the sleepy haze Shouto was in, Katsuki wasn't there anymore. After a confused scan of the room, he returned with a thermometer and a platter of cute apple rabbits that made Shouto want to melt and marry the other on the spot right there and then.
Opening his mouth with a deadpan ahhhhhh, he closed it around the thermometer. Katsuki glanced at it after, satisfied.
"You were pretty hot," Katsuki remarked, and Shouto almost choked on the apple slice. The blond breezed ahead of Shouto's red face, either clueless (unlikely) or ignorant (highly likely). "But you're doing better now. Any symptoms?"
Death by almost choking from you calling me pretty hot, Shouto thought. "Throat hurts and m'nose is slightly stuffed."
Protruding nose spray and cough drops from his pocket, Katsuki placed them on Shouto's desk. "Take those later then."
Gahh. How he had managed to land a considerate boyfriend, he would never know.
His dopy smile alerted Katsuki, who placed the back of his hand over Shouto’s forehead. "You delirious too?"
"No. Just.... happy."
He was. It had been so long since he had someone take care of him. It wasn't like he needed someone to, but after what felt like a lifetime of being alone and taking care of himself through self-destructive habits, having someone there felt like a miracle.
It felt like a warm hug encapsulating warmth in the middle of winter, heat spreading further when Katsuki took Shouto's hands in his own.
"Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" Katsuki asked, absentmindedly tracing shapes on Shouto's palm. A square, a triangle, a heart. The light touches sent electric tingles through him, and he wondered if it was his immune system or heart going haywire. "Oi."
Shouto met red eyes, judgement free but also questioning with slightly knit eyebrows. He looked back down at their interlaced hands.
"I didn't want to bother you," Shouto admitted, half of all the truth.
"Tch. That's never stopped you before," Katsuki said, brusque and teasing. He backtracked when Shouto frowned and went to pull his hands from the tender hold. "Not that you were a bother."
"You just said I was," Shouto said, subdued.
Prior to dating, he knew he often went to the clinic for reasons not necessarily due to illness. But he had always waited till the waiting room was empty before going in; always thought that his company had been welcome. And all along, had it really been-
"Shouto.”
A hand tilted his head up so he was looking at Katsuki, though Shouto shifted his eyes anywhere but.
"You're not a bother," Katsuki said firmly, and tucked a stray hair behind Shouto's ear. "You were never a bother and you never will be, alright Halfie?"
"Alright," Shouto said. Then spewed: "I'm not..."
He thought of the clinic, more people there at each passing day. Genuinely sick people, or those doing tests to discover if death was imminent, or those with perpetual broken bones like Midoriya. In the face of urgency, where did Shouto lie?
"Why don't you think you're worthit?" Katsuki asked, tightening his grip on their clasped hands. "You're worth just as fucking much as everyone else and- and more. To me."
"Really," Shouto whispered hoarsely. He wanted to take a sip of tea but the want to be held won.
"Yeah," Katsuki said resolutely, and traced a heart on Shouto's palm. "Now drink your tea, you sound like a chain-smoker."
Shouto complied, warmth of Katsuki’s hands replaced by the scarce warmth from the mug. The peppermint tea went down easily, slight kick from the peppermint still lingering on his tongue when he finished. He settled the mug on his lap, hands still cradling it like a cherished treasure.
"You're important to me too," Shouto blurted out, but didn't regret it when he saw pink splotch on the other's cheek like impressionism brought to life. "Thank you for taking care of me."
"Tch," Katsuki deflected. "It's common decency."
If it was common decency, Shouto wondered why he didn't experience this level of care earlier in his life. He kept silent on that issue, instead saying, "stay the night?"
A beat.
"Oh?"
A moment later, and Shouto scrambled to say, "not like that."
Shouto was pretty sure he resembled a lobster, a sulky one that sulked further when he saw Katsuki looking cool and composed (and hot, his brain supplied unhelpfully) with a smirk tugging at his lips. Shouto felt like kissing the other, but the thought of him still being sick stopped that train of thought, veering into a trainwreck instead.
"I'll stay," Katsuki said, and stood up to contradict himself. He looked at a lost Shouto. "I got some Ghibli movies if you're up to-"
Shouto stood up eagerly, and careened sideways into Katsuki as he felt the world tilt off its axis and into a black hole as black dotted his vision.
"Geez, don't get up too fast," Katsuki said, but held onto Shouto securely as he gathered his bearings.
"Noted."
Hand still on his back, Katsuki led Shouto to the couch and he lied down immediately to stop the spinning as the other set up the TV. He returned with the remote, sitting beside Shouto and putting his head comfortably on Katsuki's lap.
He tched. "You have low blood pressure."
Shouto hummed, staring at the screen as Ponyo started playing. He felt a giddy smile takeover, and he pointed out, "it's what we watched for our first date, remember?"
A hum.
"Ponytail said you were disappointed you didn't get a kiss that night," Katsuki said offhandedly and out of the blue; smile wicked.
Shouto was never telling Momo anything again. He covered his face with a nearby cat pillow and didn't say anything, mortified. Katsuki attempted to wrestle the pillow out of Shouto’s face but he held it tightly until the other let go in a rare show of backing down.
As time ticked on, his grip loosened of the pillow and reality, feeling sleepy. He vaguely felt the pillow being removed and hands carding through his hair as he began to doze off, despite his eyes stubbornly flickering open every so often.
The presence and warmth of Katsuki slowly lulled Shouto to a comforting sleep, and before he succumbed to darkness he felt lips on his forehead; kiss of the night finally received.
fin.