Green Hope :: BakuDeku

This Is Karma

TW : usage of the "f" slur

Katsuki toed his boots off, watching as Eijirou sank into the sofa. "How's it feel?"

The younger sighed. "It's like... a dull throb at this point. The bleeding stopped a while ago." Eijirou lifted the pad and winced as he looked at the wound.

Scoffing, Katsuki swatted his hand and took the cloth, placing it back over the wound. "Keep it on, you fucking moron."

"Ahh, sorry. I can't help it. Was Izuku's this nasty?" Eijirou watched as Katsuki made his way to the kitchenette, freezing as the greenette is mentioned.

Katsuki frowned, grabbing a water bottle. "What does that fucking matter?"

"Damnit, sorry. I'm just- my brain is fucking everywhere." Eijirou sank into the sofa. "Uhm... do you want me to stay in one of the rooms?"

"The main room." Katsuki handed the water bottle to him. "It actually closes. The second room door could easily be pushed open." He pressed the back of his hand to Eijirou's forehead.

"Fever?"

"Nope. Still normal. And sweaty as fuck." He flicked Eijirou's head and sat on the recliner chair. The younger chuckled quietly, smile awkward. "Still not sick? Still no strange cravings?"

Eijirou hummed, looking down to his lap. "No, no cravings. I am still kind of hungry, those peanuts weren't incredibly filling. Uhm, still not nauseous." He rubbed his hands together, pursing his lips.

Katsuki breathed deeply, standing up. "I'm gonna lay down. You get something to eat outta the bag, then lay down yourself. I'll check on you in the morning, alright?" He patted Eijirou's opposite shoulder as he passed.

With a sigh, the younger nodded. He placed his hand over the cloth on his wound and went into the kitchenette where the bag was.

"Hey..."

Eijirou snapped his head over to look into the hallway. Katsuki stood with his head low, face turned away for Eijirou to not see his expression with his hand on the decorative doorknob. He swallowed, hand that had been reaching into the bag falling to his side.

"You'll be fine in the morning. When I come out to check on you, you won't be brain dead. You won't be a Screamer or a Runner. You won't be a Brute and you definitely will not be a Mimic. You'll be immune..." His voice was quiet and lacking the usual roughness and grittiness. And despite his usual obliviousness, Eijirou was able to detect a sliver of hopefulness beneath the utter doubt.

"Maybe a certain someone will be back with a cure before morning. Stick me up with the stuff to be sure I don't turn."

Katsuki snorted, finally looking to his friend. "Vaccine," he corrected sharply, pushing open the door to the spare room, which was more of an office with a day-bed. "And you know it would be damn impossible to travel all the fuckin' way down to Georgia on foot in such a short amount of time."

Eijirou grinned, hand on his neck. "I suppose so. Still can't help but dream, though. It's a fifty-fifty shot I'm immune... possibly. I actually don't know what my percentage is."

"Well, it's been only ten hours... nineteen to go, Shitty hair. The closer we get to twenty-nine, the less likely I am to kill you. So don't make me kill you." Katsuki's smile was slight before he entered the spare room, door clicking into the top of the frame.

The younger sighed, arm falling as he looked to the bag. He's not quite so hungry anymore...

~

Katsuki lay in the day bed, boots by the door, fingers interlocking on his chest. He stared at the ceiling, moonlight pouring into the room. Awfully bright, but his mind was far to busy to even care. Or maybe, not so busy as it is strained and worried. His best friend may die before sunrise. He'll lose Eijirou so soon after losing Izuku.