Work Text:
"Let me help"
Izuku listened to the morning-turmoil for as long as he could. While lying in bed, head close to the wall, he crumbled his blanket in his thightly closed fists. Counting the times he heard a bottle clatter to the ground, the colorful muttered curses, a yelp, the loud clang on the sink, a muffled thump... Izukus eyes flew open. He jumped up, ran out of his room and right into the bathroom without knocking - where Aizawa was sitting on the closed toilet lid and struggled to put his shirt over his head. One arm through a sleeve, the second stuck halfway thanks to his plastic-wrapped-cast and his head barely poking through the collar. At his bare feet lay all of their shower utensils, crumbled towels and puddles of water.
“ Please.", Izuku stressed, blinking the image of Aizawa bleeding on the floor out of his eyes. “ Let me help. ”
Aizawa huffed a breath, glaring through the collar.
“Fine.”
Izuku marched to his guardian, almost angrily and started to work.
After freeing his arm and in the middle of tugging the jumpsuit over everything to look barely representable, did Aizawa pout with an impressive frown.
“Stupid arm. ”, he hissed under his breath. Izuku fiddled with the strap on his cast. He had an unpleasant and weird deja-vu to a time where their roles had been reversed all those months ago. Only Izuku hadn’t been this compliant in comparison to the adult leaning forward so that Izuku could make sure it was secure around the hero’s neck. His hands prickled with the contact and how close Aizawas face was to his, but the terror had long vanished. Now he just worried for his caretaker to properly recover. Healing started crawling under his skin in sympathy.
He didn’t really know what he was supposed to answer but when he leaned back, he settled on a deeply heartfelt: “Stupid cast. ”
As Aizawa sat on the toilet, running his other bandaged hand through his hair, their eyes met. Izuku pulled his lips up and showed teeth in a wide grin, that weird anger still somehow simmering under his skin. The adults’ eyes twitched and Izuku saw how his mouth slowly creeped into a similar smile. Almost manic.
He huffed a breath - a short ‘heh’, close to a dry laugh – and then stood up. With his cast – still in plastic – he gently hit Izuku in the chest and left a wet stain.
“Thank you. Now take a shower and put some clothes on, we are late.”
Izuku stuck his tongue out as Aizawa walked out of the bathroom. He kicked a shampoo-bottle after his guardian.
“And what about this?”
Aizawa turned a lazy gaze over the mess, still with that Cheshire smile on his face.
“Well, you wanted to help.” He kicked the bottle back. “And it’s your turn doing chores anyway so hurry up. I’ll make breakfast.”
“You mean ordering take-out because you can't hold a spatula and I’d poison us before noon.”, Izuku couldn’t stop himself from murmuring quietly and Aizawas grin turned into something dangerous and sharp, despite his bandages and slightly crocked walk. He turned his head almost predatory like.
“ What was that? ”
Sudden panic hit Izuku right in the stomach and he grit his teeth, hissing “Nothing - start cooking old man !” and threw the bathroom door closed to cut off the deep dark eyes glaring down the hall. He held his breath but Aizawa just muttered something he couldn’t decipher and slouched further away from the bath. Izuku managed half a minute in a closed room before he slowly cracked the door open again and peeked out. The big black jumpsuit was rummaging around, cursing his bandages as he fiddled with the phone and - just as Izuku had predicted - called their go-to-delivery service.
Again.