And They Were Roomates. (KiriTodoBaku)

Maybe It's Love

The stool swayed and creaked under Todoroki's fidgeting, almost echoing in the tense silence. If it weren't for the two unwavering stares, he might have felt a lot less uncomfortable. It only took a few more seconds of awkwardness for Kirishima to finally break the suspense.

"Come on, man - just a small bite."

To his dismay, his only response was a painfully accurately timed stomach gurgle.

"See - You're not fucking starving yourself - eat." Bakugou pressured, pushing the plate closer from the opposite side of the breakfast bar.

Although Todoroki desperately wanted to retort - he bit his tongue. He supposes he should be somewhat grateful - as Katsuki had been aggressively taking care of Shouto the moment he stormed in through the front door.

"Sit down."
"No over here - next to the window."
"-for fresh air, obviously!"
"Don't fucking move."
"Stop slouching."
"Drink this."
"Drink it slowly dumbass!"
"How are you even more pale, damn vampire."
"Tell me if you feel sick."
"..."
"Stop feeling sick."

Todoroki finally let his eyes fall to the plate in front of him.
Bread.
A singular, plain slice of bread.

Reluctantly, he picked it up. He was so hungry.
But he didn't want to throw up - not again.
"You wouldn't have thrown up so often in the car if you'd let it out all at once..."
Did he say that out loud?
"I didn't want to get the-"
"Stop saying stupid things and eat, idiot." Bakugou snapped, tightening his grip against the counter-top.

Sigh.
He took a small, polite bite - gracefully tearing off a corner. It was mostly crust; Fuyumi always used to cut his crusts off if he ever had sandwiches. If he didn't feel on the edge of death, he could honestly eat a hundred of those right then and there. Even so, he swallowed his mouthful - ignoring the sets of red eyes that hadn't yet left his form.

"..."

Suddenly, a fresh wave a nausea hit.
When he resisted the urge to gag the feelings only piled up, knotting in his stomach and ripping away his appetite, climbing up his chest to his throat, burning like bile.

There was a clatter as the slice dropped to the plate, stool screeching as Shouto practically threw himself off of it. He only just made it to the bathroom, before skidding to his knees and emptying out into the toilet bowl. He clenched his eyes shut as he kept dry heaving - gripping the toilet seat for dear life. The nauseous waves came and went as they pleased, leaving no room for objections on his side. He then clutched his swollen stomach, feeling it churn in displeasure.

Only a few moments later, a warm hand came to his forehead, brushing his fringe back and out of his eyes.
"Tch, you need a haircut," he heard Bakugou distantly mumble. Shouto could only groan in response, stomach sore.
He should've locked the door.

Before he knew it, another presence was kneeling next to his hunched body, a calm pressure rubbing incredibly soft circles over his back.
"Don't think now is the time, Katsuki," Kirishima scolded.
Todoroki tried not to complain as he rested his forehead on the toilet seat - unbothered about the amount of germs. (Bakugou religiously cleans everything anyway.)
"I think I should just stick to water..."
The words came out hoarse.

"I'm going to call the hospital, see if he needs to go in-"
"I don't- I'm not going in." Todoroki interrupted, shoulders rising defensively.
He just wanted to stay home - maybe curl up and hide in his room once this phase had passed.
The silence that followed was suspicious.
If he could raise his head to confirm, he feels like he would see other two talking with their eyes behind his back. But just thinking about moving was nauseating.
There was a sigh.
It sounded like Kirishima's.