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With the quiet sound of raindrops drumming against the windows, the front door’s lock clicked open. Quiet footsteps, shuffled and exhausted, filled the empty air of the apartment’s living room as Shouta returned home for the day. He doesn’t really understand why he feels so exhausted in comparison to every other day; his students weren’t particularly worse than usual. Maybe he was out too late the night before? No, his patrol was perfectly routine. So why did he feel so goddamn groggy?
Shaking his head, he locked the door behind himself and toed off his boots, hung up his scarf, and unzipped the top of his jumpsuit. On top of the exhaustion, he swore the apartment was warmer than usual. Whatever, he’ll just get some water and try and cool down. There’s no reason why he can’t take it easy for tonight; he’s off for the next few days and he only gets the option to laze around his apartment once in a while.
He pulled open his fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and taking a swig. Only after his throat felt a little less dry, he pulls it away and calls out for the only other living being in the place.
“’Zuku,” He intoned, voice light as he called out to his boy, “I’m home.”
Instead of the usual tapping of claws against hardwood, there was strange silence. He frowns. He placed the bottle down on his counter before he turned and called out again.
“Izu’?”
More silence. His brows furrowed as a range of emotions ran through him at once. First, confusion, then worry, and finally annoyance. Why was his pup ignoring him? He had no right to, not after the things he’d done for him the day before. His jaw tensed and he sidestepped the kitchen island, slinking out of the kitchen and towards the hall. That same annoyance trailed after him the entire way, heavy and muggy the entire time. He practically threw his bedroom door open, prepared to snap, before he spots the shivering lump under the blankets.
The annoyance drained from his thoughts as that worry came back in full force. He wasn’t whimpering like he did when one of his panic attacks hit out of nowhere. No, he was trembling and panting heavily. His breathing sounded hoarse. Something had to be wrong.
With the same quiet footsteps he always had, he stepped over to the side of the bed and slowly squatted down.
“Izuku,” He cautioned, reaching forward and carefully pulling back the blankets, “Hey, Baby boy, what’s wrong?”
The pup was flushed, his eyes squeezed shut as his heaving continued. For a moment, Shouta had the staggering thought that Izuku’s heat had hit early. This was different, though. This was concerning. There’s no visible slick, no sharp stench of sweat and need. He just looks…
He quickly reached forward and pressed the back of his hand to the boy’s forehead. Shit. With a hiss, he pulled it back and tutted.
“Darling, you’re burning up,” He murmured, mostly to himself, “Poor thing. Hold on for me.”
With more urgency than typical, he climbed up onto his feet and padded into the bathroom. He worked quickly, grabbing a washcloth and soaking it in cool water. He grabbed a bottle of cold medicine from the cabinet with a wince; the kid hated the taste of it, but there was no way around it. If he fought it, he’d have to force it down. For once, he’s not too keen on the idea of that.
He finds his way back into the bedroom, returning to his spot and kneeling. Rough hands, calloused from years of hero work, gently roll the boy onto his back. His pup whimpers as the cold cloth presses against his flushed skin, but there’s no avoiding it. He’s sick, and as his owner, Shouta must take care of it. It’s not like he can take him to a vet or anything.
He spent a moment just watching his boy, still frowning. It’s not rare for him to get sick in the fall, but it always makes Shouta worry a bit. He spent so long getting them to where they are now, he can’t lose it all because the boy caught something horrible. With the thought in mind, he sighs and grabs the medicine bottle along with the small syringe that came with it.
He couldn’t exactly force Izuku to sit up, not when he seemed like he was barely able to even lift his head. The process of drawing the pink liquid into the syringe is quick and easy. Unfortunately, the administration of the liquid isn’t.
Shouta tucked a hand under the boy’s neck while his fingers carefully twisted into the curls on the nape of it. Sadly, Izuku had gotten sick enough times to know what he was trying to do. He thrashed and tried to yank his head away, but Shouta’s grip on his curls kept him in place. He hushed him, the sound sweet and soft even as his hold tightened.
His poor boy whimpered and whined the entire time, but he eventually managed to press the syringe far enough into his mouth to force it down his throat.
He watched as his dog gagged and coughed. He’s so very dramatic sometimes. Still, he leaned forward to press a light kiss to his temple before pulling away and standing upright. He'll have to make him something gentle for his stomach, probably. He couldn’t have the poor thing vomiting on the sheets because he fed him something too heavy. With a quiet sigh, he turned around and moved out of the bedroom.
With a fleeting glance behind him and towards the door, he realizes he’s glad he had the foresight to take the next few days off.