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Laundry day means three things.
It means comfy sweatpants, a thermos of piping hot tea, and the door of the laundry room firmly shut so no one can disturb Katsuki while he focuses on the calming, repetitive motion of the clothes swirling around inside the machine, accompanied by a dull hum.
Incidentally, this laundry day happens to coincide with cleaning day, which means that Katsuki has to scrub the whole apartment from top to bottom until it is absolutely spotless.
In the morning, he and Izuku divided the chores, which consisted of them standing in front of the dry erase whiteboard in their kitchen and scrawling the chores in a list before drawing circles around the tasks in their designated colors; green for Izuku, and orange for Katsuki. They took turns to choose their chores, and Katsuki made sure to select laundry before Izuku could. Compared to annoying tasks like vacuuming or mopping the floors, doing the laundry is much more calming.
So, Katsuki sits on the ground in the laundry room and starts sorting their clothes by color. Izuku has a ridiculous number of green and blue clothing, including the old hoodie he bought back in high school that he refuses to stop wearing, even though it stretches at the seams when he squeezes into it now.
If Katsuki appreciates the view of Izuku’s muscled arms in the tight hoodie… Well, that’s his business.
Once the clothes are sorted, he tosses in the first load and slams the hatch shut, turning the machine onto the highest setting. Satisfied, he sits on the chair he dragged over for himself, reaching over for his tea. When he cracks open the lid of the thermos, the calming scent of green tea mingles with the soap he used for the machine.
He could sit here all day, but he should get a head start on his other chores before Izuku finishes all his tasks before Katsuki again like their last cleaning day, which he wouldn’t stop gloating about for a long time.
Setting his thermos on top of the washing machine, Katsuki heads towards the living room, leaving the door open. Washing the windows is another one of his chores, so he grabs a washcloth and a bottle of window cleaner on his way to the living room, where Izuku is wiping the television screen with a microfiber cloth.
Izuku perks up when he sees him. “Hey, Kacchan. Are you going to do the windows now?”
“Yeah.” Katsuki’s eyebrows furrow into a frown as he looks at the windows, which are stained with smudges and fingerprints. “What the hell is this?”
“Huh?”
“The glass is covered in fingerprints. What, did you cheat on me and throw your girlfriend out of the window?”
“No, my boyfriend left using the fire escape,” Izuku deadpans.
Katsuki huffs as he sprays the window cleaner over the smudged glass, then starts wiping it down, making sure not to press too hard. Last time, he cleaned the windows so aggressively that he shoved the glass right out of the window pane, which got him a serious scolding from Izuku once he managed to stop laughing.
The sound of the microfiber cloth against the television abruptly ceases behind him.
“Kacchan,” Izuku says, his voice filled with dread. Katsuki whips around, concerned. “Did you start on the laundry yet?”
“Yeah,” Katsuki says, staring at him in suspicion. “Why?”
“Oh, no. With the machine?”
“What the hell’s going on?”
Izuku drops the cloth and makes a run for the laundry room. Katsuki runs after him, hearing the sound of splashing grow louder from the direction of the laundry room.
They both skid to a halt. The entrance to the laundry room is flooded with soapy water, the overpowering smell of detergent strong in the air. It is everywhere, spreading from the laundry area to the kitchen, seeping under the spaces beneath the cabinets.
Katsuki’s mouth falls ajar. “What did you do?”
Izuku gives him a sheepish look. “You know how Kirishima stopped by here after that villain attack last week and I told him he could wash his costume?”
“I’m going to kill him.”
“It’s not his fault! I think the load must have been too big because I also threw in my own costume and some other clothes so we wouldn’t have to wash them later, and I completely forget to tell you that there was a burst pipe.”
Katsuki trudges through the soapy mess to get a better view of the room. It has turned into a small lake, puddles of water rising up to their ankles, the suds clumping into thick patches of bubbles that steadily grow and form swirling currents while the washing machine continues spewing out water.
Izuku plunges into the mess, frantically wading through the pool to switch off the machine. “It wasn’t this bad last time! It must have gotten worse.”
“You could have told me that!” Katsuki snaps at him, staring at the poor, abused room as if appraising a murder victim. “This spill is gonna reach the living room.”
“What do we do?”
“Get a mop!”
Izuku nods and wades towards the cabinet in the corner of the room, tugging the door open. It sends a wave through the lake, making the water ripple and swirl into a clashing current. Izuku grabs the lone mop in the cabinet and turns back to look at the sheer amount of water in the room.
“We’re going to need a bigger mop,” Izuku says slowly.
Cursing whatever force brought Kirishima into his life, Katsuki trods through the water to reach the bathroom across the hall, which is also flooded with water. Damn the architects for not putting sealing doors in the apartment.
He grabs as many towels as he can find, then returns to the hall, throwing them all onto the floor. It’s like using an umbrella in a hurricane. Izuku has somehow managed to procure another mop from somewhere, but mopping the sludge only serves to spread the spill further, the water quickly soaking the mops until they are so sopping wet that they are no use at all.
“Maybe you can explode it away?” Izuku says desperately.
“I’m not a fucking steam engine!” Katsuki pinches his nose. “You have, like, fifty quirks. At least one of them has to be helpful.”
“I can’t Blackwhip the water away!”
“Then how am I supposed to explode it?”
“I don’t know!” Izuku looks miserable. “Our water bill is going to be insane. I’m not going to be able to buy that new All Might figurine.”
“We’re not gonna be able to buy food,” Katsuki corrects.
Izuku glances back at the mess of water mixed with detergent still flowing around their ankles. “I can buy some more mops and towels.”
“Alright. I’ll try to clean what I can.”
While Izuku makes a break for the door, slamming it behind him, Katsuki searches around for any other towels he can find and throws them onto the floor, mopping the water in the living room towards the drain, which is thankfully unclogged. If the drain was plugged, he would consider abandoning this apartment and moving to a new one.
After a few minutes of fruitless labor, Katsuki is pissed off enough that he opens the doors to the balcony and starts sweeping the water out. Considering that Katsuki risks his life for the citizens on a daily basis, they can deal with a little water.
Sure enough, a yell comes from the street. “Hey, what the hell?”
Katsuki leans over the balcony, yelling as loudly as he can. “Shut the fuck up! It’s an emergency!”
He can hear chatters starting up. “Is that Dynamight? Did a villain attack?”
Katsuki ignores them and continues mopping the water towards the balcony, watching as it forms a small waterfall trickling down to the street. Good. The citizens deserve it. As soon as he gets this mess cleaned up, he’s going to find an unlucky bastard with a water quirk and bribe them to flood Kirishima’s apartment, friendship be damned.
“Kacchan!” A scandalized voice comes from behind him. He turns to see Izuku, panting and out of breath, eyes wide. “You can’t do that!”
“Yes, I can!”
With an exasperated huff, Izuku shoves an army of mops into Katsuki’s arms, along with a towering pile of towels. “Here.”
Villain fights are nothing compared to the flood of water in the apartment, but Izuku and Katsuki get to mopping it together, bickering over the right way to do it. When Izuku has enough of Katsuki’s complaining, he hits his shoulder, but misjudges the combination of his strength with the slippery floors and accidentally knocks Katsuki over. His head hits the ground with a hard thud, which sends Izuku into a panicking fit.
“I’m sorry,” Izuku blurts out, horrified, dropping to his knees and shaking Katsuki, who feels slightly woozy. “Kacchan, don’t die!”
“Who the hell’s dying?” he grumbles. “Oi, don’t cry! You’ll flood the apartment again.”
Izuku beams in relief and kisses him, hugging him in a way that is far too overdramatic. Katsuki doesn’t mind the attention, so he lets Izuku hug him and pat the back of his head, searching for a bump until Katsuki eventually pushed him away, yelling that a simple fall wouldn’t hurt him. Two minutes later, Izuku slips over. Much to Katsuki’s irritation, he slips again shortly afterward, too. It’s the damn slippery floors.
It takes a ridiculous amount of time before the apartment looks normal again, though the legs of the cabinets are still stained dark from absorbing so much water. Exhausted, they collapse onto the sofa together.
Katsuki speaks up first, voice hollow. “Tell Kirishima he’s banned from our house.”
“It wasn’t really his fault.”
“I don’t care.” He sighs. “Laundry day is cancelled. In fact, cleaning is cancelled.”
“We’ll call a company,” Izuku agrees. “And I’ll take you out for dinner to make up for it. I know how much you like your quiet time while doing laundry.”
Despite how tired he is, Katsuki smiles, feeling a surge of affection for him. Even cleaning a flooded apartment is fun with Izuku. “I’m so fucking glad I married you.”
Izuku beams and reaches out to entwine their fingers, squeezing Katsuki’s hand.
Then, a moment later: “Kacchan? What are we going to do with all these mops?”