Chapter Text
“Akira, don’t you think your hair is a bit long?” Bakugou said as he pulled it back into a small ponytail, leaving a few of the blue strands to frame his small face. Being the stay at home parent, Shinsou usually did a lot of the grunt work of parenting. He made most of Akira’s meals, woke him up, played with him, taught him things, and took him out for appointments. The most Bakugou would do day to day was handle bath time and put his son to sleep.
“I like it! I look like Uncle Shouto!” Bakugou frowned as he remembered his longtime rival’s long ponytail. At times he wasn't even sure if he was his son’s number one hero or not considering the number of times where he had to be either Deku or Shouto when they played heroes.
“You’re getting a hair for sure,” he said picking up his son and sitting him in his high chair. Entering the kitchen he got out one of the many containers of leftovers from dinner with his in-laws. As much as he loved his father-in-law, Hizashi was notorious for his at times suffocating love and obsession to take care of people. But then again his husband would probably lie in a pile of dirty laundry if he wasn’t there and eat semi-liquid foods so he had good reason.
Akira huffed, blowing his curly fringe away from his face, “All because you’re jealousy, I can’t have long hair like Uncle Shouto. Papa do you know what that’s called? Petiteness,” he said shaking his head like a teacher lecturing a ne’er-do-well student.
“It’s jealous not jealousy and pettiness, not petiteness. And I’m not fucking jealous of Uncle Bastard,” he mumbled scooping rice for the side dishes.
“Uh huh,” Bakugou didn’t like that tone, it was way too patronising for a four year old, “You are saying bad words that I can’t say because you’re not mad,” Bakugou glowered as he could visualise the air quotes around “not mad”, his son sure had a mouth on him.
“I’m not jealous of Uncle Shouto, okay?” He said with an uncharacteristically nice smile on his face. Dramatically, Akira rolled his eyes before picking up his training chopsticks and only eating the tamagoyaki, “Oi eat other things too.”
XX
“Welcome little Akira!” The barber said leaning down in front of Akira. His smile was large and happy, fully prepared for the fast moving ball of energy that Akira was. Bakugou vaguely remembered the guy from when Shinsou made a big deal about “Baby’s First Haircut” a couple of years ago. Akira was probably his regular, and considering how fast the kid’s hair grows, a pretty often one.
“I am not in the mood for you right now Mr.Kou! Go over there, away from me and my diamonds. They’re all I have left, the only ones who listen to me anymore,” Akira said pointing off into the distance while clutching at the nothing around his neck. Bakugou slapped a hand over his face as the barber looked up to him for an explanation.
“Akira is a little moody today, sorry,” a little moody was one way to put it. All Bakugou had done was defend himself from the accusation that he was jealous and somehow it devolved into an argument with his toddler in which Akira said Ground Zero was the most boring hero because he saw his father every day and that Deku was better because in a current popularity poll he was number one despite Bakugou officially being Number One on Hero Billboard Chart JP. That and he didn’t have a cool hairstyle like the other heroes did.
“I see. And the words?”
Bakugou cringed, “Hitoshi has a very special brand of anger and you know kids, always parroting,” Bakugou was not telling the barber that he allowed his son to watch the dramas on tv and that he was copying his favourite character Hosono Ayame, known for her dramatic speeches and angry outburst towards her family members as well as her materialistic nature.
The first time Bakugou was told to “get out of his son’s face” he immediately recognised the behaviour but knew it was too late and probably better than Akira cursing someone out, “Akira just sit in the chair and let Mr.Kou cut your hair. I promise he isn’t...a good for nothing man,” after mouthing sorry to the speechless barber he helped his son into the chair.
“I don’t want to cut my hair! I wanna keep it! Daddy didn’t say I had to cut it, you big meanie! You’re just like Momose Seiichirou, a liar!” Akira yelled attracting the attention of more patrons.
“Shhhhh, you can get any haircut you want. I swear! Just please be quiet and please stop referencing Yokohama Heights,” the blond hissed into the child’s ear. He looked up, giving a sheepish smile to those still watching.
“Any haircut I want?”
“Yes, any.”
“Mr. Kou! I want hair like Deku!”
Fuck.
XX
“Papa! Can we get ice cream!” The big eyes. The fluffy hair. The undercut. His son had transformed, “Papa! Papa! Look in the window,” his son said pointing to a hero merch outlet, “It’s All Might!”
“Oh my god. You’re just like him. You’re fucking Deku,” Bakugou cried into his hands as he watched his son prance around just like his ex-best friends who was now once again his close friend used to do. They had the same disposition and everything!
“Papa! We didn’t buy a present for daddy! Daddy doesn’t have a present! We have to buy him one!” Getting over his shock Bakugou nodded and grabbed his son’s hand, allowing the youngling to lead him around, “Let’s go!” Akira yelled as he began to run, or at least tried to run, down the street.
Thankfully, the streets weren’t very crowded and the pair could move around as they pleased without worrying about the tiny child doing anything bad. Bakugou smiled as he looked down the street to see a circle of viewing benches, “Hey Akira, remember the story I told you about when I started dating your dad?”
“Yeah,” Akira answered trying to climb up his father’s arm. Bakugou bent down, straightening his arm out and allowed the curly haired kid to grab on to him and start to swing as he stood up straight.
“Right there,” he pointed to the benches, “Is where I asked your daddy to be my boyfriend.”
“Where did you ask daddy to marry you?” Akira asked jumping down and grabbing his father’s hand before pulling him in a new direction towards the benches, “Did you ask him here too?”
Bakugou sighed, thinking of the absolute disaster that almost was, “That’s a story for another time kiddo. What present do you wanna get for daddy?” He asked as they reached the benches and sat down in the same spot he had so many years ago. It hadn’t changed a lot since he was there last time even if it was almost ten years ago.
“I wanna get daddy flowers like his hair and I wanna get him the fancy macaroons that he hides from Papa- Don’t tell daddy I said that- and I wanna get daddy a ring! Or, or we can get daddy bubble bath or buy him the funny balloons that you keep in the drawer,” He giggled waving his hands around.
“Akira, don’t go in papa’s drawer. And why do are we buying all these things anyway?”
“Papa, when daddy comes home it’s gonna be a special day. Your special day,” Akira said with a coy smile, “It’s the day where I have to go stay with Grumpy and Grampy while you two have fun without me. Last time you guys had ice cream!”
“Akira what are you talking about?”
“You made sundaes without me last time! There were cherries and whipped cream in the fridge but I couldn’t find the ice cream! And there were balloons in the trash! You had a party without me!” The child yelled loudly prompting his father, who had turned an interesting shade of red, to cover his mouth.
“Akira hush. And stop going through the trash! And what are you talking about? Tomorrow is only December 22nd and- oh fuck.” Hero work was always hectic and crime went up in the warmer months as villains with cold hindered quirks came out of the woodwork and more unsuspecting tourists were on vacation for purse snatchers and kidnappers to go to town on. So they got married in a small winter ceremony. A small winter ceremony that he apparently forgot the date of.
“Fuck.”
“I knew you’d say that! Papa forgot about his marriage birthday!” Akira yelled with glee as he climbed off the bench, “Let’s go buy daddy lots of things!”
XX
“Papa?” Bakugou looked down from where he was attaching the streamers to see his son looking up at him bashfully. He was cute. Too cute.
“What you want, you little manipulator?”
“Can I say...one bad word?” Akira asked wringing his hands together, “I wanna know how it feels to say just one. Please? Just one please Papa?” Bakugou frowned. It was cute, really cute. Awfully adorable.
“Fine, one word,” it wasn’t like his husband was around to yell at him for doing this. Besides, how bad could it be? Akira would probably say fuck or damn and be done with it.
Akira smiled, “Thank you, papa,” taking a deep breath he readied himself, “CUUUUUNNNNNTTTTT!” It was the loudest Bakugou had ever heard his child yell ever in his life. He kid. His baby. Just shrieked cunt, a word he’d been very careful not to say.
“Akira...where’d you learn that word?” He tried not to let his shock or displeasure show as he asked.
“Yokohama Heights.” Of fucking course.
Shinsou sighed as he finally arrived at his door. Three stressful days in Osaka but now he was finally back home where he could see his family again and relax in his own home. After dealing with a ton of people with their noses stuck up their asses he wouldn’t complain for days at having to pick up the occasional article of clothing from one of his family members. Moving his bag to one arm he fished out his keys and unlocked the door.
“Akira? Katsuki? I’m-”
“Surprise!” The first thing he noticed wasn’t the crudely written banner. It wasn’t the balloons bouncing on the floor or the streamers hanging from every available place. It wasn’t even the fact that his favourite kinds of macaroons were on the table or the copious amounts of whipped cream, cherries and a cooler full of ice with ice cream inside. No, he noticed one thing in particular.
“Akira, sweetheart? What happened to your hair?”
“Papa said I could get any haircut I want!” Purple eyes shifted to a blushing blonde, “So I chose one like Uncle Deku’s!”
“Any haircut you want huh? Katsuki, explain.”
“H-He was quoting Yokohama heights IN the barbershop! What was I supposed to do? Explain that we let our four year old watch trashy television as he gave a monologue about killing his husband and money being the only thing he could rely on anymore?” Bakugou tried explaining himself but after his initial spiel, he sighed, “You know what? Happy anniversary. I’m sorry our son has an undercut now. Now gimme a kiss and come eat some ice cream.”
Shinsou rolled his eyes as he properly greeted his family. He was glad to be back.