Fever • TodoDeku

Chapter 10

I accidentally have eleven cats. help.
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12:03PM the dim digital clock glowed atop Todoroki's nightstand, proudly showing off its little numbers to the freckled boy, staring discontented at it.

Beside him, lay his boyfriend muttering nonsense as he rolled about in some sort of fever dream. He'd been asleep for an hour, engulfed in the hug of blankets, swallowed up by fluffy, fluffy, pillows, completely at rest in the heavenly down.

It wouldn't last much longer, he could see Shouto's eyelid fluttering in the sunlight still rest, gradually becoming fidgety and disturbed.

"Shouto?" He asked, wondering if he was awake yet.

"Hm?"

"Oh, hi babes, how do you feel?" Dog-earing the page of his text book and folding the homework inside, he rolled over, placing the back of his palm on his boyfriend's forehead. "Warm, I'd say,"

Shouto gave no response, mind focused on cycling through strained breaths, an attempt to soothe the furiously growing stomachache.

"Oh, shit, are you alright?" Something was wrong, helping him sit up, Izuku knew the answer, and despite, pushed it from his piling worries.

"Fine," Sho managed the whispery utter through a thick breath, arms wrapped delicately around his stomach, a shadow of grimace across his face.

"No, no, not fine," he insisted, wincing as the sick boy shuddered against his chest. "Seriously, Shouto, are you okay?"

Instead of answering, he resorted to burying his head into his boyfriend's shirt, though not helpful, the scent did calm his nerves for a slight.

In truth, he felt like he was going to throw up. No, it wasn't a joke or a metaphor, literally.

But, there wasn't a morsel in his stomach, and out of fear, he hadn't been able to bring himself to eat anything. Instead, what would have been an uncomfortable but quick situation, became a raging pain, dragging on with agonizing waves of incurable nausea.

"Ah, stomachache?" Izuku posed, beginning to catch on as he gently ran his hands through silky hair to help.

"Mhm,"

"My poor baby,"

For a moment, they just sat there, each waiting for the pain to wear out. They both knew the solution was for Shouto to just eat and suffer the consequences but, neither would say it aloud and, frankly, neither wanted to endure it.

That afternoon passed far to slowly, minutes soaked in pain, lasting for what each could've mistaken for hours.

The sharp ache did pass. Disappearing within enough time to convince both to join downstairs for dinner.

Their friends awaited eagerly, gathered 'round the table, buried beneath plates of food. Tonight, Tsuyu had prepared her favorite vegetarian summer rolls and veggie curry. She was, thankfully a great cook, nobody even noticed that all her meals were meat-free.

"Hola hoes," Sero greeted, waving them toward two empty seats.

"Hey," the grenette pulled out the chairs, letting his boyfriend sit first.

"Hi," Todoroki copied, resting his head on Midoriya's shoulder, blushing a bit from fever... and a bit from the public-display-of-affection.

Shouto grabbed a summer roll, cautiously picking it apart before eating the pieces individually. The cool cucumber actually soothed his throat, run raw from the acridity of his stomach's revolting.

By the time he finished the first one, he was feeling well enough to grab another roll, though, continued his meticulous deconstruction of its contents.

The meal dissolved into chatting, and unlike the previous night, they stayed to clear the table, rather than only their dishes. Of course, Izuku didn't endorse it, he insisted Todoroki just sit down and let him do all the work, but, stubbornly he refused.

A choice he was coming to regret.

As he dried a stack of clean plates, that warm nauseous shudder began to wind itself around his stomach, tightening its grasp on him by the second. Breathing deeply, he managed to finish drying the plates, before accepting that he was fucked. (fix that sentence)

"Pardon me," abandoning the dishtowel, he stepped away, immediately catching the attention of his boyfriend, who quickly caught up and led him away.

Pushing open the bathroom door, the freckled boy was able to aid his boyfriend to a stall, and help him kneel down.

Pinned red and white bangs back, he took a breath and steeled himself, lightly kissing the nape of Shouto's neck in comfort. And, for what felt like the 20th time, his stomach began to turn inside out.

Still, Izuku's comfort was unwavering; once more, he whispered words of comfort, massaged achey muscles, and kissed on feverish skin, in any attempt to make his boyfriend feel less miserable.

He could feel his boyfriend shuddering, shaking, beneath his hands, each quivering breath raising and falling in hollowed rib, pausing only for a moment to allow rejected food out.

Re-tucking strands of hair too short to stay put,  the freckled boy continued his little alleviation rituals, momentarily thrown when the unsteady, yet, rhythmic breathing hitched.

"Izuku." A hand clasped to the teen's mouth, out of nowhere, his face twisting into absolute horror, betraying no other sound, beyond rattling breaths.

"Shouto?" Somehow, he managed to keep a calm, quizzical tone' in spite of his facial expression.

"F-fuck, Izuku,"

"What baby, what?!" Frantically shuffling to his side he gently tilted Shouto's chin to meet a seriously frightened gaze.

"B-blood. It's- it's blood."

"I'm calling Aizawa."

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