Work Text:
Katsuki trudges slowly back to the dorms. His bones and muscles ache fiercely. His arms, especially his right, are the worst. Katsuki’s wrists still spasm and his shoulders still feel locked up from the knock back of his explosions. He wants nothing more than to quickly shower and soak in a hot bath. He won’t, because he knows he will pass out and drown, but it’s a wonderful daydream.
Katsuki, instead, will ride the elevator up to his room, because fuck the stairs right now. He has a weighted heating pad up there that he’ll just turn on. It should help his arm and shoulder, at least.
He kicks open the front door and slams it shut behind him. Katsuki scans his blurry surroundings and sees no one in the living room area. It is rather late, already nearing midnight by the time he finally wrapped up his patrol and the reports. With no one around to witness his exhaustion, Katsuki leans against the door and slides down.
He takes a few deep breaths, then braces himself for the struggle of getting his boots off. He didn’t bother to change out of his hero costume except for his grenade bracers. He tossed a hoodie over himself and called it a day. However, that means Katsuki has to fumble to unlatch the straps with uncoordinated fingers.
Almost silent footsteps alert him. Katsuki looks up and opens his mouth, prepared to shout at one of his nosy classmates, when he sees Eijirou standing over him. His mouth snaps shut, and he stares, wondering what the hell his boyfriend’s staying up for. Usually, they head to one of their rooms after a patrol ends late, laying next to whoever fell asleep first.
Eijirou stays silent as he crouches down and tugs Katsuki’s boots off, lining them up next to his own. He reaches out a hand, which Katsuki grabs, and pulls him up, carrying most of his weight.
Rather than help him to a bed, Eijirou guides him to the kitchen. Katsuki is confused until he smells a delicious, savory, spicy scent. He has no idea how he didn’t smell it before, but he definitely recognizes it. It’s the same curry the hag used to make him when he was younger and still learning to cook simple meals–a blend of spicy Tokeru and GoGo with a few more splashes of hot sauce to brighten it.
Katsuki looks at the bubbling pot as Eijirou sets him into a chair. His boyfriend scoops up some rice onto plates and pours the rich curry on top. He sets one plate and a spoon in front of Katsuki and sits to his left. Eijirou mutters, “Itadakimasu,” which Katsuki belatedly copies, then he digs in.
Katsuki doesn’t as he sits, still breathing in the comforting scent and feeling the warmth of the bowl and Eijirou at his side. He blinks back the tears that threaten to spill over. Katsuki loves this considerate idiot way too much.
His boyfriend likely saw the news and stayed up late just to get him fed, probably assuming Katsuki had very little to eat today. He would be right. Katsuki’s morning patrol with Best Jeanist stretched way past when it should have ended as a group of villains attacked nearby. They had to battle the six of them and then help with rescue efforts as a few newly rebuilt buildings got torn down again with civilians inside.
Eijirou also must have known his arms would be aching too much to cook for himself or even work well at all. With curry, Katsuki doesn’t have to worry about chopsticks, which is definitely the reason Eijirou cooked this over other meals he enjoys.
Katsuki finally shakily scoops up and tries the curry. Tender beef, carrots, and onions melt on his tongue. The spiciness and slight smokiness compliment the beef. Tears slip down, unbidden. Salt mixes with the taste of curry as he keeps eating.
When Eijirou is scraping his plate clean and Katsuki has a few bites left, Eijirou looks up and sees Katsuki. His eyes widen, and he reaches up a gentle hand to wipe away the tears still trailing down his face. Katsuki doesn’t know what face he’s making, too many emotions boiling over inside of him, steam condensing in his eyes. Whatever it is, it makes Eijirou hurriedly clean their plates and help him to Katsuki’s bedroom.
Eijirou sets him on the bed and strips Katsuki, leaving him in his boxers. His face is drying, exhaustion smothering out any other emotions. Katsuki lets his body be manhandled into laying on his left side. After a few minutes, something heavy and hot is laid over his right arm. Then, Eijirou’s chest presses against his back. Katsuki soon falls asleep with firm arms wrapped around him, rubbing circles onto his chest.
When he wakes up to the stupid fucking alarm, his body still aches but less intensely. Katsuki sits up, dislodging his boyfriend’s arms. Eijirou hasn’t woken up, still drooling onto the pillow. Katsuki sets another alarm to wake him up in thirty minutes and heads down to the kitchen after getting dressed. Using Eijirou’s mom’s recipe, he cooks unadon as thanks for last night.
After half an hour, Eijirou stumbles down and notices the two steaming bowls of eel and rice. This time tears well up in his huge, round eyes, which he insists are happy tears. Katsuki mumbles something about getting it, and Eijirou’s wobbly smile softens as he connects the dots. Eijirou presses a kiss to Katsuki’s lips, and Katsuki can still taste the curry from last night. He pushes him back, grossed out by Eijirou’s unbrushed mouth.
Katsuki shoves a bowl into his hands and shoos him away. Eijirou smirks at him but relents, sitting down. They eat in peace until Kaminari comes in, breaking up the intimate, domestic moment by begging for scraps. He receives an explosion to the face instead.