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“Kacchan, I don’t have time to do the laundry today, I need to go see my mom,” Izuku said. He was on his knees in front of Katsuki, literally begging. Once Katsuki had gotten home from work, Izuku had immediately cornered him, much to Katsuki’s dismay. His favorite thing to do after work was shower and take a nap, not do the laundry.
“Please? I need the laundry done today, I’m out of clean underwear,” Izuku said. Katsuki sighed, grimacing. Izuku was giving him the saddest looking puppy dog eyes Katsuki had ever seen, so obviously he couldn’t say no. Not that he would anyway.
“Yeah, sure, fine,” Katsuki said, praying Izuku would get up off his knees. It was not good for Katsuki’s health.
Laundry was easy, and he would not let it get the best of him. He’s done laundry before! Of course he has!
“Thank you so much, you’re a lifesaver,” Izuku said, standing up and wrapping his arms around him. Katsuki awkwardly returned the hug, still not used to Izuku’s abundant amount of physical contact. Not that he ever complained about it. He appreciated it, even. He was almost sad when Izuku let go, turning his back to him to gather his stuff from the kitchen counter. He had already kicked on his shoes and a jacket, like he’d been sitting and waiting patiently for Katsuki to get home. He probably was.
“Whatever,” Katsuki said. He crossed his arms and leaned back on the wall behind him, watching as Izuku shuffled around, shoving his keys, wallet, and other miscellaneous items into his various pockets. His jacket was huge on him, making him look tinier than he actually was. He was all muscle, but the jacket made him look soft.
“See you later, Kacchan! Good luck!” Izuku said, making his way to the door, shooting Katsuki a smile over his shoulder.
“Won’t need it, Izu,” Katsuki grumbled. Izuku rolled his eyes and walked out the door, leaving Katsuki alone with a task and his thoughts.
Laundry. Katsuki knew where the washing machine and dryer were, but he didn’t know where Izuku kept his laundry basket. He ventured into Izuku’s room, cringing at the mess. He pushed on, opening the door to his closet, finally laying his eyes on the prize. The laundry basket. It was filled to the brim, with clothes almost falling out. Katsuki pursed his lips, slightly regretting taking this on. He picked it up and hauled it towards the laundry room, shocked by the weight of it. He didn’t know clothes could be this heavy. It was like Izuku took his time to compact every single fucking piece of clothing he owned into one basket. Izuku would be the death of him.
Katsuki dumped all of the clothes on the floor of the laundry room. Who cares if they get dirty, he’s gonna wash them anyway. Does Izuku sort his laundry by whites and colors? Does he wash them with warm water, or cold? And how does he wash Katsuki’s clothes?
Katsuki would never admit that he was starting to panic. Izuku had been gone for about ten minutes, and he was already failing at doing laundry. He decided to just go with his best guess. He took Izuku’s clothes and shoved them in the washing machine. It was probably too full, but he wanted to just get this over with. He didn’t have the patience for more than one load.
Katsuki opened the laundry cupboard and searched for any sort of detergent. There was regular detergent, detergent pods, and a detergent made specifically for sensitive skin. Wait, is that what Izuku uses? Does he have sensitive skin? Will he have some sort of reaction if he uses regular detergent?
Katsuki refused to fail at the simple task of doing laundry.
“Izu, what detergent do you use?” Katsuki asked once Izuku picked up his phone. He heard a sharp laugh from the other end of the line.
“Just the pods, for my laundry. I always do yours with sensitive skin stuff!” he said. “Oh, and wash it cold.” Since when did Katsuki have sensitive skin? But looking back, ever since Izuku started doing his laundry, he’d been a lot less itchy and sweaty.
“Okay.” Without another word, Katsuki hung up, resigning to his fate.
He tossed one of the detergent pods into the washing machine and closed it, switching the water temperature to cold. Perfect. That was over and done with. Izuku’s laundry would be clean in an hour, and drying it would be even easier. He was good at this.
An hour later, Izuku was still out of the house. Katsuki could hear the irritating sound of the washing machine, letting him know that it was ready for him to switch the clothes to the other machine. Awesome.
Reluctantly turning off the TV, he made his way back to the laundry room to battle his second task. The dryer. Way less daunting. He pulled all the clothes out of the washer, sopping wet, and shoved them into the dryer. He quickly shut it before anything could fall out, and he looked for the settings.
There were so many fucking buttons.
Low heat? Medium heat? High heat? Air fluff? Automatic dry? Delicate?
Katsuki hadn’t done laundry since he moved in with Izuku, opting to do all of the dishes if Izuku would do his laundry, and the dryer at his house was way less fucking complicated.
“Oh my fucking god,” Katsuki groaned. He wished there was some sort of printed guide that he could follow. What if he shrinks his clothes, and his shirts are a size too small? Sure, it would define his muscular frame really damn well, but Katsuki’s not sure if Izuku would appreciate him fucking up his clothes.
He dialed Izuku’s number again.
“What heat do I dry clothes on?” Katsuki asked.
“You- It depends on what you’re washing.”
“Your clothes.”
“Like, what kind? Cotton, hoodies…”
“Uh, all of it?”
“Jesus fucking christ.”
“Leave me the fuck alone, idiot! This is your fucking job!”
“I’m not your servant!”
“I didn’t say you were!”
The other end of the line went silent.
“Just put it on automatic dry.”
“Thanks.” Katsuki hung up.
Two hours later, Katsuki face-planted on Izuku’s bed. He’d dried and folded all of Izuku’s laundry, sorting them into neat piles of different clothing items. Boxers, t-shirts, sweatpants.
He heard the door open in the entryway, signaling Izuku’s return home. Katsuki didn’t move, too relaxed and melting in the soft sheets that Izuku had on his bed. Who cares, anyway. He did Izuku’s laundry, he deserves to rub his face in his sheets.
“Kacchan?” Izuku called from the kitchen.
“In here,” Katsuki yelled, voice muffled.
“Are you okay?” Izuku asked.
“Tired as fuck,” Katsuki grumbled. Izuku just laughed, and Katsuki could hear drawers open and close as Izuku shoved the piles of clothes into them. Katsuki would have done it, but as soon as he laid down, he didn’t have the motivation to get up again.
“I have so much respect for you,” Katsuki said defeatedly.
“What?” Izuku asked, his tone both confused and breathless.
“I can’t believe you do that shit every week,” Katsuki said, waving his hand towards the half open drawers. He fought the urge to get up and close them all the way.
“It’s not bad if you actually know how to do it,” Izuku said, laughing. He fell onto the bed next to Katsuki, lying next to him and staring at the ceiling.
Katsuki internally rolled his eyes, but stayed put, just watching Izuku fidget with his hair and stare upward.
“Want tea?” Izuku asked suddenly.
“Sure.” Katsuki decided to ask him about the excessive amount of Dynamight boxers that he had later.