Chapter Text
Izuku feels like fucking shit. His head is pounding, nose is stuffed, throat feels like the fucking sahara dessert. But he has to go to work, he needs to mark papers, train his students, so he gets up. At least tries to, before miserably failing. His whole body is screaming at him to just call in sick and stop being a stubborn idiot. After an internal war and 500 calculations, Izuku decides to give in.
He ends up grabbing his phone on the bedside table and punches Aizawa's number in.
“G..Good morning Aizawa,” he choked out, throat yelling at him to drink some god damn water.
“Midoriya? Are you okay? You’re later than usual.” Aizawa grunts
“S..Sorry I might need to call in sick today,” he groans holding back a cough.
He hears Aizawa letting out a big sigh before responding “Get well soon.”
The call ends.
Midoriya’s contemplating if he should get out of bed but he decides to let fatigue win for once and goes back to sleep.
It's fine now. Why? Because I am here!
All might? No, that was his obnoxious ring tone. What time even was it? He swore it was just 7am.. 3pm?? How did time even fly that fast? Most of all, who the hell was calling him?
His eyes glanced at the caller ID, “Kachaan”. Why was Kachaan calling him? Was it because of a mission? He rubbed his eyes before picking up.
“Kachaan..?” His voice croaked.
“Where the fuck are you Deku?” Kachaan yelled across the phone, Izuku winced.
“W..what do you.. Achoo! Mean?”
“Are you fucking sick?”
Damn, he knew Kachaan hated him but to accuse him of being mentally ill was a new level.
“I’m not sick k..kach Achoo!”
“You owe me ramen you shit-eating idiot.”
Oh. Now he remembered. He was supposed to go out to that new ramen place with Kachaan today.
“Dont fucking move idiot.” Kachaan barked before hanging up
It’s not like he really had a choice, his body was sore, he was hurting everywhere. The nap did make it better although it still felt like his head was being split into two. Maybe Kachaan was actually going to split him into two for standing him up.
He was still stuck in his thoughts when he heard his doorbell faintly ringing, then being accompanied by a loud yell.
“Let me in nerd!”
Who was yelling at his door? Okay that was a stupid question, who else would it even be?
Izuku groaned, making his way to the door, feet threatening to betray him at any time..
“What are you doing Kachaan..?” Izuku opened the door, feeling the blaring sun rays on his face.
“What does it look like you fucking idiot?” Katsuki groaned, shoving past Izuku, entering his apartment like it belonged to him.
“Go sit down on the couch before I make you.” Katsuki demanded, setting a plastic bag on the coffee table as Izuku made his way to the couch.
“I don't understand Kachaan.. What are you doing?” Izuku questioned, still bleary.
“I brought noodles for your inconsiderate ass!” He said angrily, however he opened the takeaway like it was the most precious thing in the world and maybe it was. Maybe it was precious because it was izuku. Maybe izuku was pre-
“You didn’t have to Kachaan,” Izuku muttered, hand wrapping against the handle of the all might cup gifted to him by Katsuki. Although Katsuki claimed he got it as a free gift and knew the only idiot who would want a cup like this was Izuku.
“Does it look like I want to do this?” He groaned before holding up a spoon and blowing on it. An action so gentle, so unlike Katsuki.
“Open up..” Katsuki grumbles holding the spoon to Izuku’s lips.
So Izuku complies. He opens his mouth and feels the warm savoury liquid gracing his tongue, he doesn't think he’ll ever get tired of this.
Something about the scene is so fragile, so domestic, so unlike them. Yes, Katsuki has taken care of him a few times before but it feels different this time. Izuku swears he notices a sliver of affection in his gaze but it disappears as fast as it came.
“What are you looking at nerd,” Katsuki grumbles but there's barely any bite to his voice.
“Nothing…” Izuku mumbled reluctantly looking away from the blonde
“Stop doing that.” Katsuki glared, setting the spoon down.
“Doing what?”
And before he could stop himself the words spilled raw, messy, them.
“Stop looking at me like I fucking matter Deku.”
“What…? Kachaan are you okay?” Izuku questioned, eyes moving back to Katsuki.
Those warm green eyes that held all the damn stars in the sky. And maybe for once Katsuki didn’t care about the consequences.
“No Deku I’m not fucking okay!” Katsuki yelled.
And god, the way Izuku looked at him. Looked at him with hurt, confusion, everything all at once.
“Forget that, I’m fine. You’re the one that's all sick and pathetic,” Katsuki grumbled but it was quiet, it was fragile, it was vulnerable.
“You know you can tell me anything right?” Izuku looked up at him and god, oh god. It was so fucking hard to hold back.
“Yeah? You want to know something Deku?”
Silence.
“I fucking love you and I’m sick and tired of holding back.”
Izuku felt his heart race oddly. He never really expected this. Number one, his best friend is fucking gay. Number two, his best friend is fucking in love with him. Is he even still a best friend? Or did he just mishear all this? It must be the sickness tricking his ears right?
So he comes up with the stupidest response ever.
“Are you sure..?” the words leave his lips and he instantly regrets it
“Am I fucking sure? Are you seriously fucking with me right now?” Bakugo lets out a dry laugh, fists clenching. Not mad at Izuku, just mad at himself. Mad at himself for being so damn weak, for loving someone that was never destined for him.
“You never told me you were gay!”
“Do I have to spell everything out for you??”
Izuku just sits there, still shocked, at a complete loss of words.
His best friend's in love with him.
Okay.
Okay.
Okay.
This is manageable.