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“She’s house trained, you said. She’s lazy, you said. I won’t even notice she’s here , you said,” Katsuki took a deep breath, surveying the destruction around them. “Guess what, Deku? I fucking noticed she’s here!”
Izuku swallowed his protest as he gently patted Ino’s head, there really was no way to defend her.
“I didn’t say those things,” he finally shrugged. “Kirishima assured me she wouldn’t bother you.”
“Well, I’m bothered,” Katsuki hissed, kicking at a cushion that was spilling fluff everywhere. Izuku couldn’t really blame him, he was rather bothered, too. It was only seven in the morning, and Izuku had left the apartment to grab the mail. Katsuki wasn’t home, had worked an overnight patrol, and in the five minutes Izuku had been gone, Kirishima’s giant of a dog had reigned terror.
He took stock of their living room again–an entire bookshelf had been knocked over, their couch cushions were completely destroyed, trash was strewn around the floor, and one corner had apparently been designated as Ino’s bathroom. Izuku had barely had a chance to take it all in before Katsuki had stomped into their apartment, features drawn in sheer exhaustion.
All-in-all, it was an utter disaster.
“As if this fucking day wasn’t already shitty enough,” Katsuki growled. “Bad dog!”
Izuku glanced down at Ino, sighing when her tail started wagging harder at Katsuki’s voice. He crouched down in front of her, gently holding her face between his hands.
“That wasn’t very nice, Ino,” he chided. Ino paid him no heed, eyes still fixated on Katsuki.
“Stop looking at me,” Katsuki frowned. “Fucking creepy-ass dog.” With a heavy sigh, he bent down to start unlacing his boots, movements slow as he threw the first one into a corner.
Ino was immediately out of Izuku’s hands, all 130 pounds of her vibrating in excitement.
“Kacchan, she’s–” Izuku broke off, watching in horror as Ino pushed her face into Katsuki’s and licked a sloppy, wet stripe right across his mouth. “Oh no.”
Ino crowded closer, and in slow motion, Izuku watched as Katsuki was pushed over, falling flat on his back as the dog climbed on top of him to keep licking his face. Izuku stood there frozen, waiting for Katsuki’s hands to start sparking.
There was a moment of quiet until, instead of explosions, Katsuki’s hands slowly rose to Ino’s fur, burying into the soft strands until it was tangled around his fingers. Izuku startled when Katsuki let out some sort of strangled noise.
“Kacchan?” He ventured, cautiously making his way over to them. Katsuki had his head buried in Ino’s chest, blond hair blending into her tawny fur as he hugged her tightly. His shoulders were shaking slightly when Izuku dropped to his knees beside him.
“Kacchan?” He tried again, reaching out to touch his back. Katsuki’s arms tightened around Ino, and she immediately turned her head to try and lick him again.
“Fuck off,” Katsuki’s voice was muffled, but Izuku could still plainly hear the tears present. He rubbed a soothing hand down his back, but didn’t press him any further for answers. Quietly, he moved to sit behind Katsuki, letting his legs act as a cushion as he reached around him to join in the hug.
They sat like that for a while, the apartment silent except for the occasional muffled gasp and wet sniff. All the while, Ino continued to lick at any part of Katsuki she could reach, his cheek, his ear, his hair, and never once did he yell.
Izuku continued to rub soothing circles against Katsuki’s back, only quitting when his boyfriend’s body finally stopped shuddering. With one last sniff, Katsuki lifted his head, pulling back far enough that he could hold Ino’s head in his hands.
“Shitty dog,” he sighed. Ino licked his nose. “Thanks.”
“Hey,” Izuku said quietly, hooking his chin over Katsuki’s shoulder, “why don’t you go to bed. I’ll take care of all of this, promise.”
Katsuki didn’t say anything for a moment, before softly knocking his head against Izuku’s and patting the thigh that encircled him.
“Place better be spotless,” he muttered, gently pushing Ino off of him so he could stand. Izuku petted her head once, before standing as well. Katsuki was watching him warily, so Izuku smiled in reassurance.
“Talk later?”
“Maybe,” Katsuki offered, but it was enough for now, and Izuku watched fondly as he kicked off his last boot before heading towards their bedroom, Ino hot on his heels.
“Oh, Ino,” Izuku called. “Come here, girl, let him rest.” Ino ignored him, still trotting diligently after Katsuki, head raised so she could see him.
“It’s fine,” Katsuki called over his shoulder. “Just clean this place up.”
The two disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Izuku alone with a mess he didn’t even know how to begin cleaning.
Three hours, and several trips to the store for more cleaning supplies later, Izuku finally stood back to triumphantly survey the spotless living room. Not a single piece of trash, fluff, or stain to be found. It looked even better than before, Izuku was inclined to believe (Katsuki absolutely would not agree, but whatever).
Speaking of Katsuki–Izuku glanced at the bedroom door. It had remained firmly shut the entire time, and Izuku had done a great job of stamping out his worry while cleaning, but now that he was done he was starting to flounder in waves of anxiety.
It wasn’t often Katsuki came home from patrol like that, and when he did it usually ended with something burning, not this quiet, prevailing sorrow that had seemed to wrap itself around his shoulders and refused to budge.
Gnawing on his lip, Izuku tried to recall if there had been anything in the news this morning that might indicate what had happened during his shift. There had been something about a traffic jam, an accident that had resulted in two casualties and one civilian in critical condition. It would have been at the very end of Katsuki’s shift, and not his usual route, but…
Izuku removed his rubber gloves and face mask, tossing both in the garbage so he could put away all the cleaning supplies. He gave the room one final inspection, before grabbing his laptop and plopping down on the couch.
Time to figure some things out.
It really had been an accident, was the first thing Izuku noted. There had been no villains involved, nobody was suspected of foul play, just an awful, unfortunate car crash.
Katsuki had appeared on the scene out of costume, and Izuku realized he must have been on his way home when it happened. As Izuku continued reading, one thing was made abundantly clear–there was nothing Katsuki could have done to have saved those people.
Before he had even arrived, the driver was already dead and the other passenger seconds away from following. Only the civilian in the back seat was conscious, and if Katsuki hadn’t removed him from the car when he did, he would have been lost to the flames that quickly consumed the vehicle.
Tears pricked the corners of Izuku’s eyes as he read how Katsuki administered CPR the entire ten minutes it took the ambulance to show up, doing everything he possibly could to ensure this one person would live.
This one person who was still in critical condition at the hospital.
They had both lost civilians before, knew the lingering hurt that never truly went away when they couldn’t save someone. That pain was entirely different; however, when a life had been directly in their hands, and they had done everything possible to save them, only to find out later it had all been for nothing, and the civilian had died, anyways.
Izuku put his laptop down, glancing over his shoulder at the bedroom. For everyone’s sake, Izuku wished with his entire being that this man lived, that he would be okay and move on and flourish in life.
With a heavy sigh, he pushed himself up, rubbing absently at his trembling arm as he padded around the couch towards the bedroom. He cracked the door open to peek inside, and instantly felt his heart turn to mush.
Katsuki was completely dead to the world, hearing aid on the nightstand and body sprawled out across the entire mattress. There was a lump under the covers, and when Izuku took a step inside, he could see Ino’s head just barely poking out from under them. She was pressed against Katsuki’s side, and the further into the room Izuku went, the more he could see how Katsuki had her wrapped in a hug.
Smiling softly, Izuku crouched down near Katsuki’s head. Ino stirred slightly, nose sniffing away at the intruder, and Izuku raised his hand so she could smell him. Apparently satisfied, Ino gave his knuckles a small lick before settling back down.
When he turned back to Katsuki he was greeted with sleepy, red eyes. They blinked sluggishly when Izuku gently cupped his cheek, thumb tenderly smoothing over scars and dark circles.
“Just checking on you,” Izuku said, low enough so Katsuki could hear him. Katsuki blinked again, still lost under the weight of sleep. Izuku hummed, pushing Katsuki’s bangs from his face to lean forward and press a lingering kiss to his forehead, letting his lips softly trace the seams of the scar around his eye, the shell of his ear, his strong jaw, before finally stopping on his lips.
“I love you,” he breathed, pulling back slightly so he could hold Katsuki’s gaze. “I’m here, when you want to talk.”
Katsuki didn’t say anything as his arm emerged from the blanket to gently cup the back of Izuku’s head and pull him closer, pressing their cheeks together in a gesture that was so full of comfort and familiarity it made Izuku’s chest ache.
Apparently feeling left out, Ino wiggled her way out of the blankets, inserting herself perfectly in between their bodies. She licked Izuku’s face once, twice, before turning with a huff and resting her head over Katsuki’s neck.
“She’s a good dog,” Izuku couldn’t stop the wide smile that bloomed. Katsuki’s eyes softened as Ino nuzzled her head against his, and he pressed a small grin into her fur.
“She’s alright.”
Katsuki would be okay.
Izuku and Ino would make sure of it.
As Katsuki’s eyes slid shut again, face relaxed and peaceful, Izuku decided he needed to send Kirishima a thank-you card for letting them watch over his dog.
...and a bill for all the damage she caused.