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sweating it out

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Katsuki never gets sick. Never.

Even when he was in pre- and primary school, the literal breeding grounds for illness, surrounded by dozens of germ-infested brats, his immune system still succeeded in staying healthy—to the surprise of his mother, as well, who was keen to make such statements as “Wow, Katsuki, you must be invincible!” and “Maybe tell the other kids to eat their vegetables like you do, that’ll show ‘em,” which of course only existed to stroke his young ego but were happy praises nonetheless.

Now in his final year of middle school, lying in bed, curled up beneath a cacophony of blankets, he feels as if he might die.

The unmistakable symptoms—stuffy nose, violent cough, and a deep, pounding headache—are painfully present for the first time in his life, and he isn’t entirely sure what to do. His limbs ache but he knows there’s no way he’s going to miss school. Not when exams are this close and needs to be in class more than ever, at least.

His mother, however, has other plans. She grabs the digital thermometer from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and promptly shoves it in Katsuki’s mouth, waiting several seconds for it to beep before she pulls it out and looks at the displayed number.

She shows it to Katsuki. Thirty-nine degrees. “Looks like you’re gonna be missing out on class today.”

“But—”

“You’re staying home,” she says sternly, thus ending the discussion. Katsuki pouts but doesn’t say anything as she exits his room.

Damn it, Katsuki thinks, rolling over onto his side. He touches his forehead and, sure enough, the skin is hot to the touch. Damn it, why today? The old hag doesn’t even think I can handle it.

He isn’t sure when he falls asleep the first time. He only feels the soft hand on his shoulder, jostling him awake. He hears his mother say, “Here, I made you some soup.”

Katsuki blinks one eye open. Then, clutching the sheets closer to himself, he asks, “While I’m running a fever?”

“I’ll get you some water too.”

Katsuki sits up slowly and places the bowl in his lap. He’s tentatively slurping up the noodles when a cold water bottle presses against the back of his head, and he swats at his mother but she ducks, laughing. “Hey, you know the Hero Network is having an interview with Deku at one, right?”

“Yeah. So what?”

“Well, you get to watch it live! See, being sick isn’t so bad, is it?”

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “I could’ve just watched it when I got home. This is a waste of time.”

Regardless, he can’t help but feel the anticipation stirring in his gut. He’ll technically be the first person in his class to watch it…

He naps a second time prior to the interview, waking when the alarm he set on his phone goes off. Immediately sitting up and grabbing the remote to turn on the television, switching to the Hero Network Channel, he leans back against the headboard and watches as the high-ranking pro hero, Deku, appears on screen.

Deku looks the same as he always does whenever he makes a television appearance—in his hero costume, smiling, slightly disheveled. His hands are placed politely in his lap from where he sits mere feet away from the show’s hostess, a middle-aged woman with an obvious facelift.

“That was quite the save you made last week during the building collapse in Tatooin Station, Mister Deku. Who knows what would’ve happened to those fifteen workers if you hadn’t arrived at the scene… It was exemplary work!”

Deku laughs a bit—a light, natural sound, completely unlike the disingenuous cackles Katsuki would expect from any other hero being senselessly worshipped by an interviewer—and leans back in his seat, shaking his head. “I don’t really see it that way. I’m sure the other heroes on the scene would’ve figured something out if I hadn’t showed up.”

God damn it, Katsuki thinks, stop being so humble.

“You should give yourself more credit!” the hostess replies, waving a dismissive hand. “There certainly wasn’t any other hero there who could carry as much weight as you. If you hadn’t been there, well…”

Deku’s next laugh is more uncomfortable. The awkward tension doesn’t last long, though, as the hostess quickly changes the topic. “It also seems you broke the top ten within the past twenty-four hours. This is a huge accomplishment? Have you ever thought of what it’d be like to have the number one spot?”

Katsuki scowls at the television. What an idiot.

“Well, I’m sure most heroes have,” Deku says. He presses the tips of his fingers together uncertainty, as if he isn’t sure of what to say. “T-though the idea does sound nice, it isn’t why I became a hero, you know? All I’ve ever wanted is to help people, and do it with a smile. Being number one doesn’t matter to me that much.”

Oh my God.

“Oh, is that so?” The hostess’ smile broadens to near painful-looking levels. “Is there any reason what that is? Is there anyone who inspired you to help others?”

Deku stammers for several seconds, then says, “Y-yes, of course! My mentor, Toshinori Yagi—everyone here knows him better as All Might—taught me everything I needed to know about being a hero. And m-my classmates and teachers at U.A., of course.”

“I see… I may be asking the wrong question, then. Is there any specific event or situation that lead you to follow your current beliefs, in that case?”

Subconsciously, Katsuki leans closer to the screen.

“I don’t think so? I’ve sorta always felt this way. U-unless you count this one friend I made about a year ago. H— they said something to me once that really inspired me, and since then you could say I’ve, ah… I’ve felt more determined to help as many people as possible. To protect others when they can’t protect themselves.”

“Might we ask who this particular individual is?” the hostess asks. Immediately the audience breaks out in loud whoops and applause.

Once the noise dies down, Deku glances at the floor. “Wouldn’t that be an invasion of privacy? They know who they are and that’s all that matters, I think. I, uh, they’re probably watching this right now, actually.”

Katsuki coughs into his sleeve. He wants to watch the rest of the interview but, slowly but surely, he feels the exhaustion tugging at his eyelids. Maybe another nap wouldn’t hurt.

I can just watch the rest later, he surmises, throwing his head back onto the pillow. The hostess’ voice drones on in the background as his vision begins to fade.

***

Katsuki’s final nap of the day is interrupted by the sound of a door opening and closing, and heavy footsteps pounding on the floor as his mother speaks to the new arrival. In his tired state he only catches bits of what she’s saying.

“Thank you for showing up on such short notice… sleeping right now… leave him alone when he’s like this… bringing supplies to Masaru… gone for a bit…”

What?

Katsuki rolls over, disinterested, intent on falling asleep again until he hears a familiar laugh. “No problem, Bakugou-san. I’ll make sure he’s alright.”

Wait. Katsuki’s eyes shoot open and he sits upright, suddenly awake. His clothes are soaked through with sweat, but he ignores it in favor of approaching the bedroom door and pressing his ear against it in order to listen to the rest of the conversation.

“He usually goes to bed at around nine, so sometime before that do you mind waking him up and giving him the cold medicine? It’s in the medicine cabinet, you’ll know where to find it.”

“No problem.”

“Thank you again, Midoriya-kun! Like I said, I’ll be back in about an hour or so. I’m sure Katsuki will be happy to see you again. He watches you all the time on TV, you know.”

She can’t be serious. Katsuki wipes his palms on his pants, freezing up as he hears the front door shut again. Then silence. Oh, God, she is serious. How did she even get him to come here?

He hears footsteps again, this time approaching the stairs. Katsuki moves at lightning speed, practically leaping back onto his bed and pulling the covers over himself, facing the wall.

When the bedroom door creaks open he closes his eyes, lets out a light exhale through his nose. He tries not to move when a large shadow appears over his bed, nor when thick, calloused fingers card through his part, parting the strands plastered to his forehead. He barely suppresses a shudder.

Izuku doesn’t say anything. The silence that fills their shared space is surprisingly comfortable, familiar. Katsuki flashes back to a year ago, to the small hospital room and how Izuku stayed with him until his mom showed up even when he didn’t need to, even when Katsuki knows he surely had better things he could’ve been doing.

Katsuki swallows. The mattress dips as Izuku takes a seat at the edge of the bed.

“Hey, Kacchan.”

No use pretending he’s asleep anymore. Katsuki swats Izuku’s hand away and rolls over, facing him. “You were talking about me on TV.”

He isn’t asking a question. Izuku gazes down at him knowingly. “Did that make you happy?”

Heat rises on Katsuki’s cheeks and he can’t tell if it’s from the fever or embarrassment, so he avoids eye contact. “I dunno, how would you feel if someone got all sappy talking about you to millions of people?”

“Is that a yes?” Izuku leans closer, but Katsuki glares at him warningly. “Don’t be like that, Kacchan. I didn’t even use your name!”

“Yeah, but I understood what you meant.”

“So it is a yes?”

“Listen, why are you here?”

Izuku shrugs. His hand returns to petting Katsuki’s hair, gentle, and within seconds Katsuki feels the chill shooting up his spine, goosebumps rising on his arms. It’s always like this when Izuku touches him.

“Mitsuki-san called me and told me Kacchan was sick, and asked if I could take care of him while she left to drop something off to her husband at work.”

“No,” Katsuki says, shaking his head. His lips twitch as he tries finding the right words. “I know why, but I meant why, you know? Don’t you have some important hero shit to be doing?”

“I couldn’t leave you alone when you’re sick!”

Katsuki pouts. “I’m not that sick!” Izuku laughs, and he whacks him with a pillow. “Shut up! You just wanted to see me, didn’t you?”

“Maybe…”

“Great! You’ve seen me! Now go”—Katsuki falters when Izuku parts the hair behind his ear, sending a fresh wave of something through him, disrupting his train of thought—“G-god… Go and do your job!”

“They’ll call me when they need me.”

You’re being irresponsible, Katsuki wants to say, but stops when their eyes meet again and he gets his first look—his first real look—at Izuku’s face for the first time in months.

Without all the face-altering make up Izuku’s forced to wear for his planned public appearances he looks downright horrible. The bags under his eyes, slight downward pull on his mouth, dimmed, falsified joy in his expression all make him look tired. Old. Definitely older than a twenty year old.

Wordlessly, Katsuki reaches up and rubs the tired lines under Izuku’s eyes, unflinching when Izuku automatically leans into it. “You look like garbage.”

Izuku chuckles. “Thanks? You look as cute as ever.”

Katsuki pulls his hand back. “Don’t push it, asshole.”

“Hey, Kacchan, I’m sorry. Come on, don’t be like that!”

Grumbling, Katsuki raises both his arms and throws them around Izuku’s neck, bringing him down on the bed beside him. Izuku remains wide-eyed for a second before he smiles, hands coming down on Katsuki’s waist. “Jeez… You’re moody today.”

“Don’t care.” Katsuki nuzzles against Izuku’s chest. “Be quiet.”

“Brat,” Izuku jokes. He inhales sharply when Katsuki pinches his thigh. “Ow— hey! Seriously, are you okay? What’s going on with you?”

“Mom would kill you if she saw us like this which is why I’m doing it now, idiot.”

“Like… like wh— Wait.”

Katsuki gently touches Izuku’s inner thigh and smirks as he feels Izuku reacting accordingly, instinctively pressing closer to him. “Quit acting so surprised when you’re the one who called me a brat.”

“It was a-a joke, you don’t need to—” Izuku’s protest dissolves into nonsensical blabbering, completely red-faced when Katsuki gropes him in a much more sensitive area. “Fuck, Kacchan, you can’t just…”

“Let’s do it.”

“R-right now? You’re sick, but… I mean, I guess we have some time…”

God, Katsuki thinks, smirking, it’s been so long, I forgot how easy this guy is.

When Izuku leans in to kiss him, he reciprocates earnestly.

***

Katsuki almost can’t remember the last time Izuku touched him like this.

It’s had to have been a few months already, when he last felt the sensation of Izuku’s rough, scarred hands touching him in all the right places, sending heat throughout his body as he places gentle kisses on any expanse he can find; his lips, his cheeks, his neck… Katsuki grins cheekily as Izuku pulls his shirt over his head, says, “Like what you see?”

Izuku turns red as expected, offering no response though the way he stares at Katsuki’s chest is answer enough.

“Go ahead,” Katsuki taunts. “You scared or something?”

The last thing he sees is a determined glint in Izuku’s eyes before he leans down and wraps his lips around Katsuki’s nipple and sucks, hard, eliciting a gasp as Katsuki promptly threads his fingers in Izuku’s hair, urging him forward. “Fuck, fuck… Just like that, yeah…”

Yeah, maybe it’s good he decided to come over.

“Gonna make me feel better, Deku?” he pants between weak moans. One of Izuku’s hands dive into his shorts and he jerks his hips, craving more, more. “Y-yeah. Gonna fuck this stupid fever out of me?”

Izuku pulls off and presses a kiss against his collarbone. Katsuki melts beneath him. “Whatever you want, Kacchan. Just let me know when it’s too much, okay?”

“Hah, sure, like I’m some weak bitch,” Katsuki replies, despite his body saying otherwise. Izuku rubs a palm against his erection through thin underwear, a wet spot already forming on the fabric. “G-give me all you got, nerd.”

Izuku lets out a low laugh. His other hand joins the first, sliding off Katsuki’s pants and underwear in a swift, fluid motion, letting them join Katsuki’s discarded shirt on the floor. Katsuki wraps his arms around Izuku’s neck and brings him in for a kiss.

“Shouldn’t you be considered the nerd?” Izuku asks, whispering hotly into Katsuki’s ear. He takes Katsuki’s cock and begins stroking him slowly, teasingly, not nearly enough to make him cum. Katsuki hitches a breath. “You go to bed early, you can’t stand missing school… Everything about you, what you do… You’re just so damn cute.”

He punctuates his statement with a long upward stroke, causing Katsuki to cry out embarrassingly loud. His toes curl and his hands quiver from where they’re gripping the sheets, sweating hard and being unsure whether its a result of his fever what Izuku’s doing. Regardless, he shivers when Izuku’s licks up a thin line of sweat between his pecs.

“I-if you don’t fuck me right now.”

“Someone’s needy,” Izuku says.

Katsuki opens his mouth to respond—preferably with something snarky—but can only let out a cry when he’s suddenly flipped over onto his stomach, knees pressed into the mattress, ass in the air.

Izuku grips his waist and asks, “You got any lube?”

“You know where it is,” Katsuki bites.

It’s all the direction Izuku needs. Katsuki listens as Izuku opens his dresser, rifling through the top drawer and slamming it shut. A second passes and Izuku leans over him, placing gentle kisses on the back of his neck. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

Some shuffling, some painful, agonizing waiting, and Katsuki feels the first finger press against his rim. It pushes in easily, probably too much so. “Wow, Kacchan, have you been doing this on your own? Did you ever miss me, spending all this time by yourself?”

Katsuki doesn’t answer.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to say it. I missed you, too.”

“Creep.” Katsuki chuckles. “Yeah, that’s what you are. You’re a fucking creep, thirsting after a middle school kid like this. What would everyone say if they found out, huh? You won’t get to be a hero anymore.”

“You say that as if you don’t have anything to lose.” A second finger joins and Katsuki bites his lower lip nearly hard enough to bleed. “What about U.A.? Do you think they’d ever accept you if they knew?”

“S-shut up,” Katsuki stammers. “Just shut up and stick your dick in me.”

A third. Katsuki keens, nails sinking into his palms. Damn it, damn it, damn it!

“It’s okay, Kacchan,” Izuku tells him. “I’ll make sure you feel good.”

With a cock like yours, I’d sure fucking hope so. Katsuki swallows, though, as the fingers are removed. The mattress creaks as Izuku positions himself. “So pretty and ready for me, Kacchan. You’re amazing. I love you.”

“You—”

Izuku doesn’t let him finish. He pushes in and Katsuki rumbles deep in his throat, completely overwhelmed at the sensation of being filled— really filled—for the first time in forever. Izuku’s dick is so big, so perfect…

Still, he remains in place, bottomed out. Katsuki tries to push back against him, but Izuku remains firm and holds him in place. “Come on, we don’t have all day!”

“I have to,” Izuku says, “I have to make sure you’re ready.”

“What, me telling you I’m ready isn’t good enou— Shit!”

Izuku pulls out most of the way before pushing back in, cock dragging pleasurably along Katsuki’s inner walls. So much better than the stupid toys Katsuki’s opted to use on himself during lonely nights, better even than Katsuki remembers it. It really has been too long.

Between slow, calculated thrusts, Katsuki stammers, “Y-you should try to come over more often. M-my… both my parents work on the weekends.”

Izuku’s teeth tug on his earlobe. “Sounds like a plan.”

A scream rips past Katsuki’s throat as he suddenly picks up his pace, thrusting faster, biting nails into his skin. Katsuki’s certain there are going to be bruises later but can’t find a reason to care, rocking back to meet Izuku’s dick and blabbering nonsensically, his mind fogged over from lust. Izuku pants above him and Katsuki knows he isn’t faring much better.

All it takes is Izuku giving him a few frantic strokes for him to cum, crying out, enveloped in the best orgasm he’s had in a long time. It takes him a minute or so to come down from the high, and Izuku tightens an arm around his waist to hold him still as he pushes in harder. “Damn it, Deku!”

“Kacchan,” Izuku whispers, and gives a final, hard thrust before he’s cumming inside Kacchan, moaning out lowly. “Kacchan… oh my God.”

They both take a minute to catch their breath, panting heavily into the quiet room. Then Izuku pulls out, and Katsuki lifts his head to watch him get off the bed and zip up his pants. “Hold on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Izuku exits the room and return with a washrag and, sure enough, the cold medicine. He wipes as much cum as he can and helps Katsuki take the medicine and get dressed, repositioning him against the pillows. He seems unsure for a moment, then leans down and presses a kiss on Katsuki’s cheek. “Are you feeling alright? Are you sore?”

“No,” Katsuki says, “but I’m gonna be.”

Izuku smiles. “Do you think we managed to sweat out your fever?”

Katsuki shrugs. “I dunno, but I feel gross.”

“That’s fine.” Izuku runs a hand through his hair. “You can take a shower later. Just get some rest, okay?”

“Sure…” He doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s already exhausted.

A light peck on his forehead and Izuku is leaving him to his own devices, shutting the door as he leaves the room with a whisper of telling Katsuki to call him if he needs anything.

Eventually, Katsuki falls asleep and dreams of being saved by the hero Deku.