A little something softer in the face of recent events #bakudeku
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Katsuki watches from his position slouched on the sofa, book held up as a foil to feign indifference as his eyes track movement in the kitchen, heedless of the words on the page

His brow furrows as he catches Izuku rubbing at his temple again, spacing out in front of the fridge before he seems to remember himself and opens it to retrieve something Katsuki pays no attention to.

He's more focused on the fumbling hands, the way Izuku rocks back on his heels, unsteady as he closes the microwave and sets the time.

He watches still as Izuku slumps down at a nearby table, chopsticks held in slack fingers before Uraraka draws him into conversation with a worried call of his name.

"I'm fine," he insists, wobbly smile not quite reaching his eyes and Katsuki can't quite hold back his scoff,

focusing back on his book as a cover for anyone who might have heard him.

He knows Izuku is exhausted, even without the obvious signs.

The extra sparring sessions with him, the early morning quirk training sessions with All Might,

not to mention the extra solo training he knows the nerd is doing. And with how class work is piling up, to the point where even Katsuki has felt the pressure, there's no way the nerd isn't dead on his feet.

But Katsuki knows he'll just keep pushing and pushing until he drops, and something about that makes his scowl deepen, an intensely protective urge welling in his chest even as he tries to shove it away.

He can't ignore it any longer when Izuku nearly drops his plate into the dishwasher, a flash of anger bolstering that protectiveness as he leaves the couch with a snarl, book tossed aside.

"Oi, Deku," he growls, wincing sightly when the other snaps around to look at him.

Up close and under the lights of the kitchen, he looks so much worse, with deep bags under dazed eyes, his face much too pale.

"Yeah, Kacchan?"

In lieu of answer, Katsuki yanks open the fridge and rummages aggressively before he pulls out two little tubs and slams the door again.

Without saying a word, he grabs Izuku's wrist and drags him forward, ignoring the little yelp that accompanies the action.

"Just. C'mon, nerd," he hisses, covering the rush of embarrassment.

Izuku makes no move to pull away as Katsuki leads him from the common room, barking over his shoulder for everyone to 'fuck off' as they escape to the solitude of the lift.

"Um, Kacchan?"

Green eyes peek up at him from below messy curls before dropping to where Katsuki's hand is still around Izuku's wrist, loose but still there.

He pulls his hand back, shoving it into his pocket with a scowl.

The lift door opens on Katsuki's floor and he herds Izuku out, gesturing for him to follow as he unlocks his door and waltzes through.

He looks back to see Izuku hovering, brows knitted and lip caught between his teeth as he waits on the threshold, clearly uncertain of himself.

"The fuck are you waiting for, nerd?" Katsuki barks. "Get the fuck in here!"

Izuku complies with a nervous chuckle, but his anxiety only seems to increase with the door shut behind him.

Katsuki jerks his head towards the bed:

"Sit."

Izuku complies, watching him as if trying to work out exactly what Katsuki is planning, but trusting him anyway as he settles on the floor and rests against the frame.

And something in Katsuki's chest uncoils at the trust, how Izuku doesn't curl in on himself,

even if his shoulders are still tense.

Katsuki pops one of the tubs open and drops to his knees next to Izuku who eyes it and its contents curiously before breaking his silence :

"What's this, Kacchan?"

"Face mask," he shrugs before pausing for a moment and getting back to his feet to rummage through his bathroom cabinet.

"It smells...fresh?" Izuku murmurs as he picks up the tub and gives it an experimental sniff.

Katsuki huffs out a laugh before returning to his position by Izuku's legs, holding out a headband.

"That's 'cuz it is," he shrugs as Izuku takes the offered band and uses it to sweep his curls back off his forehead.

Katsuki scoops out some of the mask but Izuku places two fingers against his wrist, a gentle but firm request to wait:

"What's going on, Kacchan?"

"You're fuckin' exhausted," Katsuki hisses, narrowing his eyes into a sharp glare when Izuku tries to argue. "You need to take better care of yourself, but I fuckin' know you won't, I'm gonna have to force you to do it. So just fuckin' sit there and relax for once, shitty nerd."

Tone and expression brooking no argument, Izuku can only sit there as Katsuki spreads the mask over his face, motions growing gradually softer as his anger ebbs.

Izuku's eyes flutter shut as warm fingers massage the pleasantly cool goop into his skin and he hums contentedly into the contact.

Katsuki lingers just a little, covering every inch of skin, every freckle, and letting his fingers trace along Izuku's cheekbones.

"'s really nice, Kacchan," Izuku murmurs, half-dazed by the gentle treatment.

Caught out by the unexpected compliment, Katsuki falters, pulling his hands back as his heart skips a beat

Izuku cracks one eye open, lazily, presumably confused by the sudden loss of touch but Katsuki avoids his gaze and regains his feet, if not his composure:

"Gotta do mine," he grumbles before he picks up his own tub and stalks to the bathroom, feeling green eyes on his the whole way.

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TBC