Chapter Text
Katsuki woke up slowly. His head throbbed, a nagging pain reverberating across his temples and behind his eyeballs, his eyes bleary and crusted almost shut. His face felt dry and damp at the same time: lips chapped and nose sore, skin itchy with sweat and — gross — a bit of snot. He rolled onto his side with a snort and blindly smacked his hand around on the bedside table to secure a tissue. With a wheeze, he hauled himself upright and began the painful process of mopping himself up.
Useless immune system.
He was a hero, damn it. It was pretty fucking unheroic to be incapacitated by a common cold. Pedestrian; even mundane. But his agency had strict rules about illness. Anyone contagious was barred from coming in: too much risk of infecting other heroes or the public. Katsuki was under strict instruction to stay home until it cleared up.
Resting. In bed. Doing nothing.
Fuck.
Steeling himself, he hauled himself out of bed and dragged his limbs to the bathroom where he had to lean against the wall to take a piss. Just standing upright was enough to make him dizzy, and the thumping in his head only intensified when he hobbled to the sink to wash his hands.
As he splashed water on his face, he couldn’t help catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. It was undeniable: he looked rough. Dark hollows lurked under his eyes, his sallow complexion glistened with the sheen of fever, and the skin under his nose was red and peeling.
Ugh.
With a wordless grumble, he yanked the cabinet open and fumbled for the lotion. He gritted his teeth through the sting, applying a generous layer all over his face before risking another glance at his reflection.
Better. Maybe. Still fucking disgusting, though. Katsuki slammed the cabinet shut and heaved himself back to bed with a groan, dropping onto the mattress hard enough to bounce.
Not being able to work was bad enough, but he couldn’t do anything like this. He’d tried to read, but it made his headache flare. He wouldn’t compromise on screens in the bedroom, so watching TV was out. Maybe he could move to the couch? But the prospect — dragging himself there, building a nest of blankets, finding the remote control from wherever Deku left it after his last hero documentary marathon — was too much. Not worth it.
With huge effort, Katsuki rolled himself to tug a corner of the blanket around his middle before collapsing back into the sheets. They felt sticky, clinging to his bare arms and legs to leave him oddly aware of his own skin: somehow too hot and too cold at the same time. Every part of his body was prickly and sensitive, and no matter how much he squirmed he couldn’t get comfortable.
So sleeping was out, too. His whole body had betrayed him.
It was some combination of frustration and boredom that had him reaching down, palming half-heartedly at himself through his sweatpants. His dick stirred, slightly. A trace of pleasure made it to his brain through layers of fatigue and aches. Another experimental rub and he started to harden, gradually, coaxed to life by his insistent fingers and force of will.
Well. Nothing better to do.
Katsuki settled on his side, knees loosely bent, blankets around his waist leaving his arms and legs free. One hand burrowed below his waistband to stroke himself directly, skin on skin, pulling long slow tugs up and down the shaft and working himself to full hardness.
It felt… alright. Nice, even. The touches were lazy, unhurried, not enough to get anywhere but serving as a distraction. It was a relief to feel something other than discomfort for once, the lazy simmer of arousal drawing his mind away from his aching body and into a liminal space where he could float in a semi-pleasant haze.
And then the door opened, and Katsuki’s bubble popped.
He whipped his hand out of his pants like he’d been burned. “LEARN TO KNOCK, DIPSHIT!” he roared — and fell into a violent coughing fit.
“Kacchan! Ah, I’m so sorry!”
Fucking Deku — because of course — flapped around in the doorway, waving his hands in front of his bright red face. By the time Katsuki wrestled his breathing back under control, Deku had settled with his fingers slapped over his eyes.
“I wanted to ask if you needed anything!” he said loudly into his palms. “I was about to start dinner, so I was wondering if you wanted me to make soup? Maybe fetch a glass of water, or a blanket, or…”
Deku’s voice trailed off, abandoning his sentence to dangle unfinished in the air. Slowly, he let his hands lower, just far enough that he could peek over his fingertips.
Katsuki scowled back at him. He didn’t say anything, but he made an unpleasant snorting sound. Just to be an asshole.
“Um. Kacchan.” Deku wavered back and forth on his feet. “I did… see that right, didn’t I? Just now. You were… touching yourself?”
Katsuki’s face flared with heat, but he burrowed deeper into the blankets to conceal it. “What the fuck else am I supposed to do?” he grumbled — then had to pause to cough up even more mucus. “Ugh. This is shit, I feel like shit — I got bored, okay? Jerking off passes the time. Why are you judging me, anyway?”
Deku shook his head frantically. His arms had dropped to his sides, revealing a crimson flush over his cheeks that probably rivalled Katsuki’s.
“I’m not judging you!” he said in a rush. He took a few steps forwards, all at once, before coming to an abrupt stop again. His expression was hesitant, but his gaze stayed intense on Katsuki’s face. “I’m really, really not judging, I promise it’s not that. I’m. Uh.”
Katsuki groaned. “What, nerd? Spit it out or leave me alone, I’m too sick to put up with this shit—”
“Can I help?”
As soon as the question was out of Deku’s mouth, his eyes went wide. He bit his lip, as if to take the words back — but unfortunately for them both, there was no unringing that bell.
“Deku.” Katsuki’s voice was flat. “What?”
Deku finally looked away at that point, but he took another few steps towards the bed. His forefingers tapped together — but his brow was set in a subtle frown, like he expected a fight and wasn’t about to back off. “I — I just thought — we’re partners, aren’t we? Why should you do this on your own? I can do it, if you need me to — if you want me to — it’s fine! I’m, um, I’m happy to.”
“Deku, I’m fucking gross,” Katsuki began—
And was immediately vindicated when another bout of coughing burst from his lungs. He curled over himself, hacking and spluttering at the congestion in his chest, until he’d finally managed to clear it.
“See?” he rasped, still catching his breath. His eyes were streaming; he groped around the bedside table for a clean tissue. “I’m a snot factory, don’t be stupid.”
“I don’t mind!” Deku pressed a tissue into Katsuki’s fingers, and followed up by clasping his clammy hand. “Kacchan,” he said, holding tender eye contact. “I’m here for you. We’re in this together. You’re never gross to me — whenever you want me, I’ll be there.”
Katsuki blinked at him through watery eyes, startled into silence.
Deku seemed to take that as his answer. Before Katsuki could finish wiping snot from his face, Deku had climbed into bed with him, unwinding the covers from Katsuki’s waist and settling at his back.
Katsuki could feel the fever on his skin when Deku wrapped his limbs around him, cold sweat lingering on his t-shirt and making the fabric cling. Unperturbed, Deku wound an arm under Katsuki’s neck and around, cradling his head in the crook of his elbow and raising his hand to stroke the hair from Katsuki’s damp forehead. The fingers of Deku’s other hand splayed on Katsuki’s stomach, petting gently.
“Izuku,” Katsuki croaked again, gripping weakly at Deku’s wrist. “I’m serious, you don’t gotta do this.”
“I know that, Kacchan.” Deku nuzzled his forehead into the back of his neck. “But I want to, okay?”
Katsuki was so stunned he barely reacted when Deku slipped a hand down his pants.
No surprise, his dick had long gone soft. But Deku’s hand was an old and trusted friend. It didn’t take long for Katsuki’s cock to take interest again, roused by the familiar sensations. The way Deku closed his fingers around the length, tugging slightly too rough in a way that made Katsuki’s toes curl; the bumpy texture of scarred skin and damaged knuckles. Soon Katsuki was fully hard and throbbing, pulse beating fast in the grip of Deku’s fist.
Deku hummed, pleased, into the nape of his neck. His strokes got firmer, more deliberate, thumb toying with the head on every upstroke. Katsuki groaned, his hold tightening around Deku’s wrist — but all that got him was a front row seat to the way Deku’s forearm worked, the muscles and tendons flexing as he pumped his hand.
“Feeling good?” Deku whispered.
His mouth had migrated upwards, now peppering kisses across the slopes of Katsuki’s shoulders, along his neck, the curve of his jaw. Katsuki attempted a huff, and barely managed to avoid making a mess on the pillow. Instead he growled, turning to hide as much of his face as he could.
“You’re gonna get sick,” he mumbled.
“I don’t care,” Deku said immediately. His voice sounded tight, taut in his throat, hot breath puffing over Katsuki’s sweaty skin as he continued smothering him with kisses. “You’re so sexy, Kacchan — you know I can’t resist you.”
Sexy?
The nerd was out of his goddamn mind. Katsuki had seen himself; knew that he looked like actual, steaming shit. His hair hadn’t been washed in three days. A good half of his face was red and crusty, the rest a mess of clammy skin spotted with flush. Even now, his nose kept running uncontrollably, making him battle to stem the flow with loud sniffs.
And none of that was enough to put Deku off?
Clearly not. He kept up the attention, stroking diligently at Katsuki’s cock and mumbling a stream of encouragement and praise into his ear. Talking him up like he was a god among men instead of a festering petri dish. He was even — Katsuki paused. Reached back with one hand to fumble in the sheets, only for Deku to whine, burying his face into Katsuki’s neck.
Yes, Deku was hard: not only willing to do this but somehow enjoying it. Getting off on it, even.
“Oh, Kacchan,” Deku moaned, grinding eagerly into his palm.
What the hell. Was the weirdo turned on by mucus or something?
Deku started to wriggle, letting go just long enough to get his pants open. With his cock bared and Katsuki’s sweats safely tugged below his ass, Deku squirmed even closer, coaxing Katsuki’s legs apart to ease himself between them.
“You’re perfect,” he gasped, guiding his dick into the warm nook at the top of Katsuki’s thighs. “I’m so glad I get to do this with you, Kacchan — are you feeling good? I feel so good, you’re amazing, this is amazing… Thank you, thank you Kacchan…”
Katsuki gritted his teeth to hold back a moan. He could feel the full length of Deku’s cock rubbing against him: a teasing brush of skin against his hole, sweet pressure on his taint, the tip nudging against his balls every time Deku rocked all the way in. And Deku’s hand was back too, stroking him in time with his thrusts and smearing pre over the length to slick the way. The feeling worked together with Deku fucking his thighs: firm, deliberate tugs over his shaft, light touches at the crown, pressure against his groin as Deku panted in his ear.
That hot, filthy mouth was always working, mumbling encouragement and pleas and praise. When it opened wider, licking a wet stripe up the column of his neck to his earlobe, Katsuki had no choice but to succumb.
He bit his lip throughout the orgasm, struggling to keep the noises in — but there was no hiding the mess he made of Deku’s hand. His toes curled into the mattress, grounding him, cock spurting hot cum that overflowed from Deku’s fist.
Deku warbled, briefly withdrawing to smear his dick with cum. Then he sped up, fucking Katsuki’s thighs fast and sloppy, sticky hand braced on Katsuki’s hip to keep his legs together.
By the time Deku came all over Katsuki’s thighs with a shudder of delight, Katsuki was boneless and nearly asleep.
Three days later
“I fucking told you,” Katsuki snarled, whipping a box of tissues at Deku’s head.
Deku wormed a hand out of his blanket cocoon to catch the projectile. He smiled blearily, managing to seem proud of himself despite looking like death warmed up.
“Worth it,” he croaked.