Thread by @GreyFrey3

Day 6

bkdk, dkbk, Winter AU, arranged marriage, hurt/comfort, sick bk, angsty beginning, happy ending, fluff

#twinstarsweek2022

Katsuki shivers, pulling the blankets tighter around him. There are three layered over him, each thick enough to sufficiently warm his body.

Yet he feels as though the wind has crept in somehow, running an icy finger up his spine.

//Fever.// The single thought comes slow, through a haze of chilled discomfort. He burrows in further, shudders wracking his body.

“Hurry up, Deku,” he calls weakly.

The other man won’t hear him, of course. He’s still out there in the snow, gathering firewood to help them brace the coming storm.

It could be minutes later, or even hours, but eventually he hears the sound of the ger door opening and closing.

“Kacchan?” Katsuki lets out a hoarse groan. “Kacchan!”

A moment later, blankets around his head are being peeled back. Flinching at the sudden intrusion, he weakly attempts to huddle deeper.

“Are you okay? What happened?!”

“Nothin’,” he slurs.

“Oh no. Your cheeks are red.” A cool hand settles on his forehead and Katsuki is torn between wanting to pull away or lean into it. He opts for the second choice, as a steadying arm comes up to brace him. “You’re sick.”

Katsuki makes a sound that he hopes is one of agreement. Or maybe it isn’t. He stopped caring as soon as it escaped his throat.

“You should have never carried me!“ The other man exclaims; a little too loudly for Katsuki’s ears.

The blonde winces and the next admonishment he hears is much quieter. “I only twisted my ankle. Now look what’s happened! You overdid it and caught a fever!”

“Wouldn’t have made it here otherwise…” Katsuki mutters.

Izuku lays him down carefully on the bedroll before stepping away. Katsuki watches listlessly as he prepares a bowl of fresh water and fetches a rag from their supplies.

This was supposed to be a quick trip over the mountain. They weren’t anticipating the storm.

They wouldn’t have gotten caught in it either if Izuku hadn’t fallen and hurt himself. But he just had to insist on taking the lead after they got turned around in the whiteout, even though Katsuki knew which direction to take.

Why did he have to love such a stubborn fool?

Izuku returns to kneel next to him. Fingers brush through the sweat-dampened locks on his forehead. Then a wet rag passes over the fevered skin, wiping away the dirt and cooling him.

It’s a tender action, one that makes Katsuki’s chest ache in time with his pounding head.

The problem is— there aren’t many of these moments left. In fact, this may be the last one, if the storm clears soon and they make it to the neighboring village on time.

And that’s because Izuku is getting married. To someone else.

The arrangement was made long ago, during their childhood, involving a girl neither has ever met. It’s an obligation Izuku must fulfill to keep with tradition, as well as further the bond between their people.

It’s a reality that makes Katsuki want to scream loud enough to bring the whole mountain down around them, to bury them all with his grief. But that would mean admitting his true feelings. And he has done so well to keep them hidden from his lover all these years.

“This is your fault,” he accuses feebly, glaring at Izuku. He doesn’t believe his own proclamation, though. He just needs to vent his frustrations.

“…if you hadn’t invited yourself along, we wouldn’t be here,” Izuku informs him calmly.

Another heat starts to burn Katsuki up from the inside— this time it’s righteous anger. And along with the fever, it helps loosen his tongue.

“No, we wouldn’t. Because you probably would have died out there without me, Deku,” he snipes. “Lost in a snowstorm.

Never heard from again. And I’d never get to see you again, either…”

Izuku goes silent, though he continues his ministrations. After he finishes sponging the grime off of Katsuki’s forehead, he ladles some soup for him and helps move him into a reclined position.

The physical shift of his body makes Katsuki feel light-headed. Without meaning to, he blurts out, “And of course I’d come along. What did you expect? That I would just let you leave me behind?”

Izuku’s eyes are sharp on him. They’re hard to maintain contact with.

“You told me that’s what you wanted weeks ago.”

“Yes, well… I’m an idiot.” He rubs his throbbing temples, squeezing his eyes shut. Why can’t he stop talking?

“Kacchan, your fever is spiking,” Izuku informs him, worry evident in his voice. “You should sleep.”

Katsuki forces his eyes open, steadying them as much as he can on Izuku. A difficult task, with the room spinning slowly around him. “Not yet,” he croaks. “Need to talk to you.”

The fever, while draining and miserable, is breaking down that barrier he’s put up.

The one that he uses to keep Izuku from getting too close to him… Though at this point, that divide serves almost no purpose.

Izuku carries his heart in his hand. He just doesn’t know it.

“So… why’d you come with me?” Izuku wonders softly.

And that gentle voice—filled with confusion and something that sounds almost /hurt/—forces the answer out of Katsuki.

“Because you can’t marry her!” he hisses through his teeth.

“What?” Izuku blinks at him, brow furrowing over his expressive eyes. Katsuki wouldn’t mind drowning in them. “…But I have to.”

“Not if you marry me first.”

Izuku’s mouth falls open. A moment later, it snaps shut. “You want to fake a wedding.”

“What are you babbling about?” Katsuki digs his fingers in harder against his temple, willing himself to think clearer.

Izuku sighs and tugs them away, replacing them with his own gentle touch.

“You’re talking about faking a ceremony right? Pretending to be married, so that I can break the arrangement?” Izuku theorizes.

“I’m not talking about faking anything.”

Katsuki gathers his hands in his.

The connection feels hot, like sitting too close to a fire. But that also might be the fever burning him up.

“Let’s get married, Izuku.” Blearily, Katsuki stares at him, trying to silently communicate how serious he is about this.

“That’s the fever talking,” Izuku argues,

but Katsuki has known him his whole life, and recognizes the hope slowly stirring to life in the other. It’s in the subtle lean towards him, the way his teeth edge into his lower lip… It’s unsure, reluctant, but it’s there.

“Let’s do it right now,” Katsuki insists.

“Kacchan. We can’t.”

“We can. Look.” Ignoring Izuku’s protests, Katsuki staggers to his feet. He sways for a moment before bracing himself on Izuku. “Take me to the bags.”

“Kacchan! Lay down!”

Katsuki shakes his head, firmly restating,“Bags.”

Grumbling, Izuku helps him the few steps over to where their packs lay against the wall. They’re a mess— one sick, the other with an injured ankle. As usual, they complement each other in the most ridiculous ways.

Katsuki digs through the bags, locates what he’s searching for and holds out his palm in offering.

“See? I had rings made.”

Izuku gasps sharply, his hold on Katsuki tightening. “For… us?”

“We can do it properly when we get back.

The gifts, the tea ceremony, the offering to the fire god… but let’s do the rings now.” Katsuki nods his head resolutely. “It’s the most important part anyway.”

“Kacchan…”

Izuku’s eyes are wet with unshed tears, and it’s so /him/ to get all weepy and sniffly during the single-most important moment of their lives thus far.

It makes Katsuki want to kiss him endlessly or tease him relentlessly. So he does both.

“Such an ugly crying face,” he comments. And when Izuku opens his mouth to defend himself, Katsuki plants a kiss on the corner of it. “Only let /me/ see it from now on.”

Katsuki closes his eyes as Izuku scatters kisses over his face—

along his cheekbone, over his nose, on his forehead. He sighs into him, relieved. But there’s a joy too, unhampered by the ailment currently wracking his body, growing by the second and making Katsuki feel dizzy.

Or maybe that’s the fever again, because before he can right himself, he slumps heavily against Izuku.

“Ah! Sorry! I forgot—“ Izuku braces him, tucking him firmly against his side. “Celebrate later. Rest now.”

Katsuki shakes his head again.

He’s like a bankhar dog, singleminded and fiercely devoted to his cause. “Rings, now.”

They bicker briefly and Katsuki would have definitely gotten his way—as per usual—if exhaustion didn’t win out. He’s too tired to argue,

too shaky for Izuku to take seriously and the other manages to bully him back into bed.

“Sleep, Kacchan,” Izuku murmurs reverently.

Katsuki allows his eyes to fall closed. But his grip remains firm around Izuku’s hand, pulling him close.

“Tomorrow,” he states. “Marry me tomorrow.”

“So stubborn,” Izuku observes, the laughter in his tone. “Of course I will.”

Then, as Katsuki drifts off—muttering something he’s not fully aware of—his conscious mind acknowledges one last thing before he falls asleep.

And that’s Izuku’s voice declaring, “I love you, too.”

/end

@twinstarsweek
@mirachadoodles

Look at them… so soft… my heart is going to burst 💗

https://twitter.com/mirachadoodles/status/1553424819626074115?s=21&t=3KJdkvuWRaNj4PxLgtvsLg

I think this one is my favorite. So sweet! I might have a cavity after writing that. 😄 This thread was loosely based on Mongolian wedding traditions. Researching for this thread was so fascinating 👀 I love learning about different cultures.