Archive of Our Own

“Aizawa, can you help me with this problem?” Tenya asked, poking his head into the kitchen.

Lowering the fire so the rice wouldn’t overcook, Shouta wiped off his hands and entered the living room to meet up with Tenya.

Tenya was seated at the dining table, math homework scattered across the surface. He was the only kid Shouta actually knew that was doing his homework in time. Because according to Tenya, his classmates and friends were often found in detention because they didn’t finish their homework on time. Shouta had assumed it was normal to not do your homework as a kid—he was guilty too—but Tenya was determined to follow his brother’s footsteps and become a pro-hero. To get there, it was useful to get into one of the best hero schools in Japan, which was U.A.

The kid was ten, nearly eleven. He wasn’t even in middle school, yet he was trying hard to secure a future.

But not wanting to discourage the kid—Tensei would murder him if he ever found in that Shouta was even considering discouraging Tenya from studying so much—Shouta just leaned over Tenya’s shoulder and checked the math homework. It was pretty standard math, and he thankfully never had been bad at math during high school.

“The reason you don’t get the right answer,” Shouta said, looking over the many attempts at the same calculation, each time the same, wrong, answer. “Is that you messed up here.” He pointed to another calculation. “Fifteen minus nine isn’t seven, it’s six.”

Tenya flushed red, checking the calculation Shouta had pointed to. A horrified sound followed, and the answer was scratched out in a hurry, messing up the otherwise visually pleasing looking answers. The kid at least knew how to organise his notes and make his handwriting eligible. Figuring out some of Hizashi’s work was near impossible, and Hizashi had a nice handwriting. But it was chaotic, very befitting him.

“It’s such a stupid mistake,” Tenya muttered, starting to rewrite his answers on a new sheet of paper. “I will never make it to U.A., especially not the hero course.”

Shouta had the urge to smack Tenya on the back of his head, but violence was never the way to go (unless they were villains, then he could hit them). So he opted to gently place a hand on the kid’s shoulder.

“You aren’t even in middle school yet,” Shouta said. “You have plenty of time left. There is nothing wrong with making mistakes.”

Looking ready to protest, Shouta decided to play all his card. He wasn’t very good with kids, but he knew that Tenya was just putting too much pressure on himself. “Somehow me and Hizashi have made it to U.A.—Hizashi in the hero course with your brother and I started as a general studies student. We didn’t have half the support and love you have. Nor the intelligence. Well, Hizashi excused. Don’t tell Tensei I said this, but have a bit fun in your life. And if you get a bad grade, blame me for distracting you.”

He ruffled the kid’s hair, delighted to see that Tenya’s face had lit up.

“Will you still help me with my math homework?” Tenya asked hopefully. “It’s a bit… hard.”

“After dinner,” he patted the kid on his head. “I could use some help though. Hizashi isn’t quite allowed in the kitchen after the spaghetti incident. The only thing he doesn’t burn is the pancakes.”

“Spaghetti incident?” There was curiosity in Tenya’s voice.

“I will tell you while making dinner,” Shouta promised.

Shouta returned to the kitchen, and Tenya followed. Was he even doing an excellent job at babysitting? Was letting a ten-year-old into the kitchen a good idea?

Oh well, maybe after today Tensei would never let them babysit Tenya. Nemuri wouldn’t be happy about it, as she would be his second pick. Hizashi probably would kill him, because he was very fond of Tenya, or kids in general.

As he let Tenya wash the salad, safe, far away from the knives, Shouta staring into space, stirring the rice. Tenya wasn’t their kid, but sometimes it felt like. Did Hizashi think the same? What if Hizashi actually wanted to start having kids? While it biologically was impossible, they always could adopt. Shouta wasn’t exactly against having kids, though now might be a bit too soon. After all, they have been married for just a year-and-a-half. But he at least could suggest it, figuring out where they were standing.

~*~

Shouta dialled Nemuri’s number with trembling fingers. The idea of having a kid was just something that had popped up in his mind, something he would mention at some point in his life. But it had haunted him, even in his sleep, and no way in hell he was going to discuss this with Hizashi, or Tensei. He needed a second opinion which wasn’t going to sound or look excited.

“Shouta, what the fuck. It’s fucking late.”

“Do you think I’m fit to be a dad?”

There was a pause before Nemuri let out an unnecessary loud sigh.

“Sweetie, you will do fine. You’re lovely, and you know perfectly well what do to and whatnot. You could make one kid feel very special.”

Despite that his heart was still running haywire, Shouta noticed that his hands had stopped shaking. Nemuri was honest. Sometimes too honest. Her doubts about his and Hizashi’s marriage (they proved her wrong), Shouta’s obsession with cats, the amount of chemicals Hizashi inhaled on a daily base when styling his hair. She wouldn’t say these things to just soothe him, she was genuine.

“Thank you, I needed that.” Shouta hated how his voice cracked.

“You’re welcome,” Nemuri said mid-yawn. “If you excuse me, I’m going back to sleep. Night.”

Shouta wished her night as well, though he was pretty sure she already had hung up on him. Maybe he should have called her at a better time.

~*~

“Hizashi? What do you think about, you know?” Shouta mentally cursed his nerves but moved on nonetheless. “Adopting kids. Us adopting kids.”

Hizashi briefly stopped running his hands through Shouta’s hair, as if it was a hitch in motion before he continued. It was as if Shouta had asked him if they still had eggs in the fridge or who would do the laundry the next time.

“Is this because of Tenya?” Hizashi voice was a little tight, which made Shouta worry. Something was bothering Hizashi, and Shouta hated that. What if Hizashi didn’t want kids? That they were too high maintenance?

Worrying his lips, Shouta shrugged. “Not necessarily.”

The deep, disappointed, sigh that followed was pretty much the answer Shouta needed. Hizashi didn’t want to have kids, at least for now. Fine. They weren’t in an exact hurry anyway. It wasn’t unheard of that people didn’t start a family till their thirties, which meant he and Hizashi still had some time left to figure everything out.

“Shouta,” Hizashi started. “Having Tenya over isn’t the same as having a kid on our own. It’s harder. Also, they probably wouldn’t be anything like Tenya. Each kid is different, with their own quirk. I know you love Tenya, but we can’t adopt Tenya.”

It clicked for Shouta. Hizashi wasn’t against having kids at all, he thought Shouta had fallen in love with Tenya and decided that he wanted to have that. Having Tenya living with them, permanently, calling it adopting a kid. How did they even manage to get married if they were so bad at understanding each other?

Shouta removed himself from Hizashi’s lap, sitting down on the couch like a normal human being. “Hizashi, I want to have a kid,” he explained. “I know that we can’t adopt Tenya and that no kid will be like him. But I don’t look for a way to replace Tenya or a temporary substitute, I want someone who will stay here, with you and me, sometimes Tenya, sometimes Tensei or Nemuri.”

Hizashi looked speechless.

“You actually want to have a kid?” he asked, voice small, something it usually did when he felt unsure.

Shouta nodded. “I really want to have a kid. I’m still worried about becoming a dad because I never had a parent figure in my life, but I know you will, and someone has to keep the house from burning down.”

“You will be an amazing parent figure, Tenya loves you.”

“Tenya has no choice, this is basically his second home.”

Hizashi shrugged, though the attempt at nonchalance was poor. Hizashi, at least around Shouta, basically wore his heart on his sleeve. Which meant Shouta could see right through him.

“If he weren't happy here, he would at least have told Tensei,” Hizashi explained. “Or Tensei’s six-sense would be tingling because he somehow just knows what’s going on with Tenya. I think he likes you more than he likes me.”

Shouta knew that surprise could clearly be seen on his face.

Hizashi laughed, patting Shouta’s knee. “Don’t look so surprised. Between you, me, Tensei and Nemuri, you’re the only one who isn’t loud. It must be refreshing. Also, I think he has a tiny crush on you.”

It was the most ridiculous thing ever, but it was also adorable. Shouta doubted Tenya actually a crush on him, as he adored his brother more than anyone else. Tensei was a good role model too, much better than Shouta anyway.

“Aw, come on.” Hizashi nudged his side. “A kid can like you. I think you’re pretty handsome.”

Shouta snorted. “You’re my husband, you have no choice.”

“Still, Tenya adored you.”

Despite that the mood had significantly improved, Shouta still felt angsty. “Are you sure that you want to have a kid with me? It won’t be easy.”

Hizashi let out a loud laugh. Shouta realised Hizashi had this crazy grin on his face that he came to love and dread. Love because happened after usually was pleasant, dread because he had no idea what would happen. He classified the grin as ‘I’m going to rock your world’.

True to his maniac-like grin, Hizashi took a dive for Shouta’s legs, pulling them on the over-sized couch. The motion forced Shouta to fall on his back with a soft oof. He was glad none of the cats had been lounging on the couch.

Despite that Hizashi wasn’t framed as muscular as Shouta was, he was in no way weak. Lean but mean sounds like the best to describe Hizashi. (Well, actually, it was lean, and beautiful, and wicked, crazy and Shouta could keep on going forever). But as Hizashi sat down on his lap, Shouta realised he was pinned down quite well. There was no easy way out. He was unarmed—his quirk was sufficient enough if someone decided to crash their home—and Hizashi probably could wrestle him into submission. And if he decided to overpower Hizashi, they probably had to say goodbye to their television.

“I was thinking,” Hizashi said slyly, and Shouta had started to have an inkling where this was going. “And you know, we both want to have a kid, right? I was wondering if we could try the whole ‘making a baby’ thing.”

Yup, this was one of the few directions in which Shouta had expected it to go. Not that he exactly minded it—he definitely didn’t—but he had to point out the flaw in Hizashi’s plan.

“You know you need a man and woman to make a baby, right?”

Hizashi pouted. “You’re a spoil-sport.”

By how flustered Hizashi was, Shouta knew he wasn’t an actual spoil-sport.

“Just pointing out the facts,” Shouta returned, flashing his husband a maniac-like-grin. “But you know, with all these quirks and mutations, they never have figured out if it’s still impossible. So we could always try and see for ourselves.”

The dirty talk was passable at best, but it never had been Shouta’s forte. He lacked the brilliant imagination Hizashi had. However, it, as always, seemed to do the trick with Hizashi. Shouta was soon crushed on a healthy weight of husband, and his lips had crashed against Hizashi’s. He seriously wondered how they hadn’t sustained any sex-related injuries yet, because they weren’t particularly… careful.

“I still want to have the kids talk,” Shouta said after their kiss.

Hizashi was beaming. “Me too, but right now I want to make love to you.”

Shouta would be lying if Hizashi’s suggestion was appealing, and he also knew that he could discuss this tomorrow. If anything, he was persistent. He wouldn’t let this subject slide, even if it meant he had to pester his very own husband to semi-insanity.

“Fine, tomorrow.”

There was the crazy grin again, and Shouta’s mind was filled with pleasure and love.

~*~

“I was thinking, if we would adopt a kid, both working as pro-heroes is a bit risky, isn’t it?”

Shouta couldn’t disagree with Hizashi’s logic but opted to let his own thoughts to himself for now. Hizashi already had an answer, the way he brought up the question out of the sudden, the tone of voice and the way his face was bright and alive.

“So I went looking and found a normal job. Well, as far as normal goes. I can still be a pro-hero, but way less fighting and risk-taking. The pay is pretty okay. Less than hero work, but that’s because there is less risk. The insurance will be better too, which won’t hurt the budget either.” 

Trying to not mess up dinner, Shouta let out a hum in acknowledgement. “What kind of job? Full-time radio host?”

Right now, Hizashi spent two night doing his radio gig. While Shouta missed him those nights, he also knew that it was Hizashi’s passion. It made him happy, and Shouta generally spend said nights patrolling. This way they had the same time off.

Hizashi shook his head, long strands of blond hair falling in his face. “A teaching job, a hero course.”

This wasn’t even surprising. Hizashi got along well with kids, and a teaching job gave him the opportunity to spend more time with them. In addition to that, Hizashi was brilliant. He could probably teach plenty of subjects, and he can help people with difficult to master quirks like his. He would do well teaching the next generation of heroes.

“That’s great, you would do great. What position?”

“English teacher, maybe homeroom. And I’m considering to do some quirk training, with a focus on quirk control. And the best thing about it all is that the school is close-by!”

Shouta loved how enthusiastic Hizashi sounded about the teaching job.  A teaching job would mean less paperwork (well, there was grading, but that could be done at home), and better working hours. No work during the weekend, and home at night. It would be great if they ever had a kid because their schedules would line up.

“Are you sure?” Shouta asked, deciding that dinner would survive his neglect for a few minutes. “I mean, you’re an amazing hero. Going to a teaching job would mean, well, you won’t be able to do much hero work.”

Hizashi shrugged. “I know, but teaching is also cool, and I would love to teach the next generation of heroes on, well, becoming a hero.” He flashed a bright smile. “Plus the school is a big bonus.”

Then it clicked for Shouta. Hizashi had mentioned that the school—he assumed it was a high school—was close-by. There weren’t many schools close-by, and by how excited Hizashi sounded… It had to be.

“U.A.?” Shouta guessed.

“Yup,” Hizashi said. “And guess who is also applying?”

“Tensei?”

Hizashi shook his head. “Nemuri. She had her interview after me. She was pretty surprised to see me. Though I probably was more surprised to see her. She never seemed to be a teaching person to me.”

Shouta wanted to cackle, knowing how much he was going to tease Nemuri with this. Not sounding like a teacher his ass. She liked kids just fine, she sometimes was like a doting mother.

“You know, if you get the job, you might teach Tenya.”

Hizashi’s smile got even brighter. “I hadn’t even thought about that; it would be so cool to teach Tenya.”

Shouta took Hizashi’s hands in his, praying the food wouldn’t catch fire. “But, take your time thinking about it. You shouldn’t change your job just for a kid we don’t have yet. However, if you want to get the job, I won’t stop you, and I will support you. Just make sure you have given it enough thought.”

He was rewarded with a kiss on the nose. “I will get a response in two weeks, so I have plenty of time to think about it. Not that I haven’t been thinking about it, a lot. Or anything like that.”

“Really?”

Hizashi hummed. “Ever since we unsuccessfully tried to make kids.”

Honestly, Shouta wasn’t quite sure what the proper reaction was. Swoon (because it had been on Hizashi’s mind ever since he had mentioned getting kids), roll his eyes because Hizashi somehow couldn’t stop thinking about that night (it was an excellent night though), or just go along with it. Deciding that the third option, the safe option, was the best.

“I wonder why.”

“Oh hush. You know perfectly well why.” Hizashi was grinning nonetheless. “Nonetheless. If I managed to secure the job, we could really look into getting kids. There is surely someone who is looking forward to getting adopted, even if we aren’t the coolest heroes out there.”

“Says you.”

“Says me.”

But Shouta got what he meant. Neither he or Hizashi were famous heroes, and neither of them tried to be. They were just, honestly, regular heroes. Not side-kicks, but not top twenty-or-so material either. But there are plenty of kids out there, like Hizashi said, who would love to find a family. Hizashi had been in the foster system after his parents put him up for adoption. He had found his happiness in another family, and Shouta hoped that he could offer the same happiness to someone else.

~*~

Shouta was a bit nervous to be surrounded by so many kids. He and Hizashi had decided to visit one of the local orphanages, mostly to get themselves informed on where they stood when it came to adopting a kid. Neither of them had a criminal record—thankfully—but they still were pro-heroes and a same-sex couple. Generally, a same-sex couple had to disadvantage of not having a father or mother figure in the household. It was a bad excuse, but one people liked to cling on.

However, Shouta had faith in Hizashi. His husband was charming, chatting up the workers and going through their list of questions. While Hizashi was talking, Shouta tried to spend time with the kids. Well, if the kids wanted to. Most of them were running wild outside, enjoying the warm spring weather. The few who had remained inside hadn’t been too keen to meet Shouta, keeping to themselves.

Admittedly, Shouta probably looked a bit scary, with his ever-present tired look, the unkempt stubble and his dark, baggy clothes. Also, he was an adult. As a kid, he hadn’t been too fond of adults. Or in general. He wasn’t fond of people in general. But these kids were probably thinking the same. Scary, big adult. Avoid at all cost.

He eventually caught someone’s attention, only it wasn’t a kid. A shabby-looking cat walked up to him, rubbing itself against Shouta’s leg.

The cat looked a bit shabby, with miss-matching patches of fur, a crooked tail and nick in their—her by the looks of it—ear. But considering she looked well-fed, she was a part of the orphanage. Another stray in the mix of strays.

“Hey there,” Shouta whispered, crouching down and giving her ear-scratches. “Aren’t you lovely.”

The cat meowed and head-butted Shouta’s hand. Well, at least cats liked him.

“She likes you,” a small voice said. “She likes nobody.”

Looking up, Shouta saw a kid—he guessed he was around Tenya’s age—with a mop of purple hair and purple eyes. He looked a bit tired.

“Guess I’m nobody,” Shouta said, keeping on patting the cat. “And think that you’re nobody too. What’s she called?”

“Patches.”

Shouta couldn’t help but laugh. “One of my cats has that name. She looks a bit like this one. She used to be a street cat.”

The kid’s face lit up. “You have cats?”

“Too many.”

To his surprise, the kid wasn’t running off once he had answered. Instead he sat down next to Patches, trying to catch the cat’s attention. Feeling a bit tall, even though he was crouching, Shouta saw down too. Patches crept into the kid’s lap, getting comfortable. It seems to be that she was familiar with the kid. Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if the kid was the reason the cat stuck around.

“What’s your name?” Shouta asked.

The kid blinked slowly, looking a tad sheepish. “You first.”

He liked this kid already. Always be sceptical, never trust a stranger. Well, if you’re a hero. Parenting was going to be a difficult process. “Aizawa Shouta.”

“Shinso,” the kid answered.

Not even a full name. Shouta was starting to grow soft and telling simply too much. Or he didn’t see this kid as a threat, as it should be. It’s a kid. (The kid didn’t fully trust him, fair enough).

Shinso studied him with interest, probably thinking what to ask him.

“Are you here to adopt?” Shinso asked. Fair enough. Why else would a random adult show up at an orphanage? To cuddle with cats? (That would be him though).

Shouta shook his head. “Not necessarily yet. We’re, well, my husband is discussing the options we have when it comes to adopting a kid.”

“I thought it was your wife,” Shinso admitted.

Looking over at where Hizashi sat, talking with the woman running the place, Shouta understood why the kid thought Hizashi was a woman. His blond hair spilt over his shoulders and back, long and glossy, and his figure was a bit on the lean, slightly feminine side. Didn’t mean he wasn’t physically fit, Shouta could confirm.

“Husband,” Shouta confirmed.

Shinso remained quiet, scratching the cat’s air absentmindedly. He reminded Shouta of himself, especially when he was younger. Talking with people, especially strangers, was difficult. This meant Shouta had to get a conversation going himself, and if he had been Hizashi, it would be a piece of cake. But he wasn’t. He sucked at talking, especially with kids. Because what topics were safe to talk about? Taxes and paperwork were safe but bored Shouta to death. The kid would flee this place if he started about it. It should be something kid-appropriate and something that interested him.

“Do you like heroes?” Shouta ended up asking, figuring this was a safe topic. Generally, most kids liked at least one hero. Shouta thought All Might was pretty cool as a kid. Now, way less because All Might was just another hero. Even being the number one hero didn’t matter to Shouta anymore. He cared much more about the heroes—friends and family—that actually impacted his day to day life. Hizashi, Tensei, Nemuri. A couple of other heroes, like Ms Joke, and the Wild, Wild Pussycats, who he had met in person. They were people he actually knew, and actually rooted for.

Thankfully, he didn’t scare Shinso off. He nodded, a bit hesitant.

Realising that Shinso needed some spurring on, Shouta decided to share a bit more information about himself. “Who is your favourite? Mine is Present Mic.”

“Present Mic?” Shinso parroted. “Not All Might?”

“Used to be, but I matured and met other heroes, happens when you’re a hero.” Shinso’s face lit up. “I worked with Present Mic a couple of times, and he’s admirable. He’s brilliant, and such a hard worker who is generally dumbed down by the general public.”

There was no lie in his words. Though he knew Present Mic, his husband, way better than just those few words, but he didn’t want to make it too obvious. His husband was pretty unrecognisable out of his hero get-up. It helped that he dressed loud as a hero, which made him as a civilian almost look… normal.

“You probably don’t know mine—he’s an underground hero—but my favourite hero is Eraser Head.” The kid’s eyes were shining. “He’s so cool. He too has an unconventional quirk and is more often seen as a villain, yet he is such a successful hero. He shows people that you don’t need a flashy quirk to become a hero.”

Shouta felt his breath hitch before he could even control his emotions. Seconds after, he managed to smooth out his face, but that’s all he could do. He felt slightly giddy. Someone, a kid, actually looked up to him! He surely had some fans, he never doubted that, but hearing that a kid looked up to him was something entirely different. He didn’t have much of a social media presence, and he wasn’t particularly likeable. Compared to other heroes like All Might, Ingenium. Pleasant heroes, who loved their public.

“I…” Shouta decided to be at least half honest with the kid. “I know Eraser Head, somewhat. Worked once or twice with him in the past. He is a pretty cool hero.”

This brought the kid out of his shell.

“You met him? Is he nice?”

Was he nice? Shouta didn’t think he was a jerk, but especially during hero work, he was a bit blunt, and he was willing to do everything to avoid the media. But towards civilians? Towards kids? He was okay.

“He’s okay,” Shouta said. “Not the most pleasant human being, he doesn’t appreciate the media, at all. But he’s professional, hard-working, and he cares about his work. Nothing will stop him from doing his job and save the people in need.”

Shinso grinned. “A while ago, the media believed he somehow had destroyed their media equipment with his quirk. But his quirk doesn’t work like that at all.”

He couldn’t help but follow Shinso’s example and grin. “His quirk doesn’t work like that, yes.” It was as much as he could admit. “However, he was partially at fault for the destroyed equipment. Present Mic has a pretty versatile quirk.”

“Did Present Mic actually destroy the equipment?” Shinso asked with awe. “But wouldn’t that be bad for Present Mic’s reputation?”

“Only if they ever figured it out that he did it.” Shouta placed a finger against his lips and winked, or at least tried to. It did the trick, as the kid nodded furiously.

“Shouta, I’m finished!” Hizashi announced, voice booming through the otherwise quiet room.

Patches decided to flee the scene, slipping outside through the open window.  Shinso looked a little alarmed, starring at Hizashi with a mix of fright and fascination.

“I’m coming,” Shouta let out a sigh. “Give me a sec.”

He patted the kid on his head, ruffling his already mess of purple locks. “I will keep an eye open for Eraser Head, maybe I can score you an autograph if you would like that.”

Shinso nodded furiously. “That means you will visit again?”

That was honestly heart-breaking hearing a kid sound so hopeful yet so lonely. He probably didn’t have a lot of visitors, if he had any.

“I will try.”

~*~

“You like him?” Hizashi asked as they stepped into the car.

Shouta nodded, buckling up and putting his glasses on. “He’s…”

“He reminds me of you,” Hizashi said, fiddling with the radio to find a station he liked. “Are you sure he isn’t your long-lost son?”

“I’m gay.”

“Fair enough.”

Shouta focussed on the road, trying not to crash the car. 

“I’m his favourite hero.”

“What?” The radio stuck on some kind of rock channel.

“I asked him who his favourite hero was, and he said it was me.”

Hizashi laughed loudly. “Knew you had fans. Did he know you were him?”

Shouta snorted and shook his head curtly, not daring to take his gaze away from the road.

“No,” Shouta admitted. “But I mentioned I knew him.”

“Did he ask who your favourite hero? Was it All Might?”

“Yes and no. It was you.”

Even as he was focussing on the road, he saw Hizashi grow a bright shade of red.

“It’s that you’re driving,” Hizashi muttered. “Otherwise I would have kissed you.”

Shouta rolled his eyes. “We’re home in ten minutes. Stop acting like we haven’t been married for ages.”

“Only two years, remember? We just celebrated our anniversary.”

Just two years. Shouta more-often than not forgot that they hadn’t been married for awfully long. It felt much longer than just two years.

Stopping in front of a traffic light—knowing fully well that it would take a while for it to turn green—he stole a kiss from Hizashi before returning his attention back to the traffic.

Considering the noises of protest that followed, dinner had to wait once they got home.

~*~

Shouta returned to the orphanage a few weeks later. He would pass it as he went to his patrol, so he had been tasked to drop off a few papers. Mostly financial records and health insurance, to show that they were actually capable of taking care of a child. (Or at least financially).

Before dropping off the papers—he had a bit of time to spare—he entered the sad-looking garden the kids were ushered into. Most kids barely batted him an eye, but he soon noticed a mop of purple hair perking up, surprise was written across his face.

Waving at the kid, Shouta walked towards him. He was still in regular clothes, planning on getting changed in some dank alleyway. (Pro-heroes were required to being able to change quickly).

“Hey,” he said softly. “I had to drop off some papers, so I decided to say hi?”

He was the adult, right? He was totally doing it right. (Hizashi would laugh his arse off if he heard Shouta being terribly awkward with a kid).

Thankfully, Shinso just huffed, and there was a small smile on his lips. “You’re the first one.”

Shouta blinked in confusion. “The first one?”

“The first one to return.”

He was ready to adopt the kid on the spot. Hizashi would murder him for not talking about it, but in the end, he would be fine with it. Probably. Shouta always had been low-key weak for kids—or this kid in particular. (He had a habit of adopting stray cats, kids were the same as cats, only they required more responsibility).

“Can’t stay long, sadly enough.” He actually felt bad for only being able to say a quick hi. He had left the house earlier to drop by. Though he could have left even earlier. Hizashi was on patrol anyway, so he just had to get out of bed earlier. He was going to be a terrible dad. “But I got you something.”

He wasn’t sure if the kid was going to like it, but he honestly had no idea what to give him. An autograph was pretty do-able, but what use had a ten-year-old of an autograph? It was, in the end, a piece of paper. But like, what else could he give him? He didn’t have any merchandise like Hizashi, and giving the kid something like old prototypes of his hero outfit seemed irresponsible. These things could be dangerous.

“I managed to catch Eraser Head a week ago and asked if he had something for a fan.” Shouta took the item out of his bag. “Not sure if you like it though.”

He awkwardly handed Shinso the stuffed cat he had bought in a toy store. The cat had reminded him of Patches—Shinso’s Patches—and thought it was fitting. He had signed it to Shinso, using his first name (according to the orphanage personnel, it was Hitoshi), and signed it with his own signature. He wasn’t sure if you can write on a toy, and whenever it was appropriate or not, but this was the best he got.

“The cat looks like Patches,” Shinso observed, still inspecting the cat as if expecting something more.

There was a small gasp, and the kid started to smile brightly. “He signed it!” he said enthusiastically, cradling the plush cat in his arms. “To me—how did he know my name?”

“I asked the orphanage for your name, in case I would run into Eraser Head. I doubt you wanted to have it addressed to your family name.”

Shouta waited for Shinso to start asking questions. Where did he meet Eraser Head? How did he feel to have a fan? Why did he have the cat with him? But none of the questions came. Instead, Shinso looked up at him with bright, slightly wet eyes, gratitude and excitement written all over his face.

Ignoring the urge to do something stupid—like adopting the kid right here, right now, or hug him, or promise him things, Shouta awkwardly coughed.

“I’m sorry, but I have to leave.” The sad look was to be expected. “I have a meeting with a dank alleyway.”

Shinso looked at him as if he was speaking an entirely different language.

“Patrol. The people who think that heroes never get changed in awkward places, dank alleyway included, are idiots.”

This, thankfully, made the kid laugh.

“Will you come back?” he asked hopefully, clutching the cat tightly to his chest.

Shouta nodded. “We’re getting our papers approved—well, once I hand them in,” Shouta patted his bag. “And then we start to really look into it.”

The kid gives him a small smile, and Shouta took it as a cue to leave. After impulsively ruffling Shinso’s hair—he was really an idiot—he handed the papers to one of the orphanage staff members.

It was scary that he was already getting so attached to the kid. They didn’t even get the approval yet to even adopt a kid. Because, after all, they still were a same-sex couple and apparently society decided that a kid needed a mother and a father. (And while Hizashi got two mothers—without much of a hassle—Shouta had the feeling the orphanage had wanted to get rid of Hizashi as fast as possible. His quirk must have driven them crazy).

~*~

“Welcome home,” Hizashi greeted, hanging up-side-down over the arm of the couch. His glasses had slid up to the bridge of his nose, hair touching the ground.

Hanging his coat and trading his shoes for slippers, Shouta walked over to Hizashi and pressed a kiss on his lips. After greeting his husband, he stole the mug of hot (it must be freshly brewed) tea from the coffee table and sat down on the couch next to Hizashi’s feet.

Sipping the tea, Shouta waited for Hizashi to start talking. He knew his husband well enough to know that there was something on his mind—the untouched tea, the fact that he didn’t start to talk the moment Shouta had sat down. Usually, they would start their late afternoon with catching up and cooking. (Hizashi wasn’t even that bad in the kitchen, but he had a horrible attention span and shouldn’t be left alone with the food. His pancakes were pretty mean).

“Mama called and, you know, we caught up with each other, and I let it slip.”

“Slip what?”

“That we might be adopting,” Hizashi explained, sounding guilty.

Shouta couldn’t help but sigh, wanting to shake some sense into his husband.

“Hizashi,” he started. “You told her that we’re planning on adopting, not that we adopted a kid. And, she’s your mother. I imagine her being euphoric knowing she might become a grandmother—or worried.”

Somehow it managed to drag a chuckle from Hizashi, which was pretty much considered victory for Shouta.

“Definitely worried. I mean, are we really fit as parents?”

“Probably not any worse than my mother.”

Shouta could hit himself. Wrong answer. Hizashi knew about his childhood, they had talked about it before they got married, but it doesn’t mean it was brought up a lot. Actually, Shouta avoided it at all cost and Hizashi never started it. So if the conversation happened, it was mostly his own fault (like now).

Hizashi’s foot nudged his thigh, begging for Shouta’s attention. “You aren’t your mother,” he said solemnly. “Never will be.”

“How do you know for sure?”

“The reason you married me.”

Was it really that easy? Shouta had found out—later in life—that his mother had been pregnant with him when she married his father. Knowing her, she wanted stability and marrying the father of her child was the best way to go. Yes, they had been dating for four years, but they only had been out of high school for a year. Though, he and Hizashi decided to marry each other for, well, medical reasons. Wasn’t that the same?

“I’m sorry,” Shouta whispered, knowing that Hizashi could hear him. “I can’t see it. How are we different from my parents? I wanted to move to marriage because of the medical benefits.”

“Which is the only reason people have to marry these days,” Hizashi said. “Kids and finances can be arranged without marriage; only medical situations have benefited from marriage. By marrying, we’re considered direct family.”

Mulling over Hizashi’s words, Shouta realised he wasn’t wrong. He didn’t need a partner to adopt a child, nor would he need to have married Hizashi to figure out their finances—not being married actually had been more beneficial for their finances than being married. However, being married made Shouta able to visit Hizashi in the hospital, and vice versa. (It had happened a few times, and he had been happy to wake up with his husband berating him for being careless instead of all alone, or worse, with his mother).

“You’re not wrong.”

“Right!” Hizashi pulled himself up with just his upper body strength—Shouta was so gay—and latched himself to Shouta’s side like a cat. “We married because we love each other—I was not obligated to say yes to your proposal. That’s the difference. Your dad felt obligated to marry your mother because she was pregnant with his child. Last time I checked, neither of us were pregnant or in a dire need to get married.”

“We can’t get pregnant.”

Hizashi huffed. “Do you have proof? The world is filled with weird shit.”

“But pregnant men isn’t one of them,” Shouta pointed out but smiling nonetheless.

As Hizashi had basically latched himself to Shouta already, he just threw himself over his husband and snuggled as close as humanly possible.

“Hey Shouta, do you want to be like your mother?”

Shouta felt himself grow ridged—and seeing as how close they were, Hizashi must have noticed too. What kind of question was that?

“Of course not. I want to be nothing like that horrid woman.”

“There you go,” Hizashi said matter-of-factly. “You know what your mother has, and you are the last person to do the same. I mean, you love kids. The situation would have been different if a kid suddenly was trusted upon us when we weren’t ready yet. But both of us decided that we were ready for kids, and decided to adopt. So that makes you different from your mother.”

“Why are you so smart?”

“Just being rational. I wouldn’t get a kid with you if I didn’t think we both could take care of them.”

~*~

“I know you’re the wrong person to ask this, but you’re at least a better option than Nemuri.”

Tensei sighed loudly. “I’m flattered, really. What’s the issue? Trouble in paradise?”

Shouta shook his head. He and Hizashi were as steady as ever. Okay, that was a bit of a lie. There was something between them. Tension, he supposed. Adoption seemed to take out much more of them than originally expected.

“Not quite, at least it wasn’t what I wanted to talk about. Though I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell Hizashi about this.”

At least it got Tensei intrigued, which was more than he could have hoped for. Shouta usually discussed his problems with Hizashi, so going behind his back was unusual for him. For both of them really.

“Tell me, what got bothered enough to go to me instead of Hizashi?”

Shouta grimaced. “We’re planning on adopting. You know that already.”

Tensei nodded. He had been one of their references. The Iida family is a well-known hero family, and Tensei, as Ingenium, was already well established and well-liked. A reference from him was worth a lot. It had helped a lot when getting the approval to even adopt.

“I’m, well, scared,” Shouta admitted, nails digging in the back of his neck. “There is this kid I just clicked with.”

He supposed that would describe his feelings the best. Shouta’s maternal instinct had kicked in after the first meeting. Because, to be blunt, Shinso reminded him so much of himself. Originally from an abusive household, a surprise addition to the family. His file said he had been in a couple of foster families, but none of them adopted him. Nobody had been patient enough with his quirk, nor could find the time for him. There were just too many kids in a foster family. He needed someone who could teach him to use his quirk, to make him embrace it and not to hate it, to be frightened by it or hated for it.

“I want to adopt him.” He paused, waiting for Tensei to catch up. “But that’s also the issues. I want to adopt him. Hizashi barely knows him, and I know that adopting is a mutual thing. We both want to start a family, so we both have to agree on the kid.”

He was scared. Scared for multiple reasons. What if Hizashi and Shinso couldn’t connect with one another? That would mean they wouldn’t adopt Shinso, because Shouta couldn’t be that selfish. But it would also damage their relationships, because Shouta could never forget about Shinso and how he would, low-key, let him down. But there would be another kid who needed a home.

“Have you talked with Hizashi about it?”

“No.”

Tensei sighed. “I think it’s all you can do. Talk with him, he will be delighted.”

“Delighted?”

Tensei let out a loud laugh. “He was crying.” Tensei was grinning like a Cheshire cat. “He told me before, before you got married, that he feared you didn’t want to have kids, but that he had accepted it. Then you said you wanted to have a kid, and he didn’t know what to do. He was so happy.”

Shouta felt his heartbeat speed up, a happy warmth colouring his cheeks and ears. He knew that Hizashi had been happy when Shouta announced he wanted to have kids. But he didn’t know that it ran that deep. It showed how little they knew about each other before they got married. And even as a married couple, they learned new things about each other. Shouta hadn’t known Hizashi had wished to have kids. Not just ‘I wouldn’t mind having kids’, but actually wishing to have a family. But it was the same with him, only Shouta never had been sure about getting kids. It wasn’t until Hizashi had come crashing into his life, showing Shouta that he was capable of loving and share his heart with others (that weren’t cats).

“That doesn’t give me the right to pick the child.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Tensei said, sounding slightly exasperated. “But talk. You two always have been so good at communication.”

And they were back at the ‘communication is key’ part. But maybe Tensei was right (Tensei was often right) and he should tell Hizashi his worries. His husband is always honest with him, and Shouta tried to do the same. Honesty had gotten them pretty far.

“So, I heard you might be gunning for a teaching job,” Tensei said, changing the subject. “Done with being a pro-hero?”

Shouta snorted, knowing that Hizashi had spilt the beans about that. “Getting paid to torment kids sounds like a dream come true.”

“You love kids.”

“I do not.”

Tensei let out a mad cackle. “You met a kid, barely know him, and you’re ready to adopt him. If you ever get a class, you probably would die for them as long as they’re safe and sound.”

Hizashi was obviously not the only one who had a lot of ‘Shouta knowledge’, though Shouta always thought Tensei was more Hizashi’s friend than his. Yes, they got along well, and they enjoyed teasing Hizashi together, but Hizashi and Tensei were a thing since, well, high school. It was the same with him and Nemuri.

“Also, my parents want to meet you. Tenya can’t stop talking about you.”

He felt silly actually pointing to himself, blinking. “Me, not Hizashi?”

“He likes Hizashi plenty, but he thinks you’re cool. You don’t baby him, and let him in the kitchen. He isn’t allowed in the kitchen back home.”

“I let Hizashi into the kitchen.”

“Hizashi is your husband.”

“Hizashi is a recipe for food poisoning.”

Tensei grimaced. “That’s true. But still, when do you have time to drop by?”

Shouta wasn’t sure if he wanted to say yes—he doubted that the Iida family would be overly impressed with him. After all, he looked a bit… shabby. And he was awkward around other people. He wasn’t anything like handsome and charming Hizashi.

“I will ask Hizashi if we have time.”

“Great!”

“But don’t promise your parents just yet.”

By the look on Tensei’s face, he was going to do just that.

~*~

The odd thing was, Hizashi generally did well with people. He had his own radio show, in which he had to answer calls and talk to those people. He was a pro-hero—he did interviews, talked with fans he crossed paths with. He was a teacher, he had to teach hundreds of kids on how the English language worked, they asked questions, they approached him. So he got this. He definitely got his.

The issue was, he didn’t.

Psyching himself up, Hizashi entered the orphanage he and Shouta have been working with for months. It was quite likely they would adopt a kid here, and Hizashi had an inkling which one. If he didn’t fuck up today. He should have spent more time planning this.

A few kids greeted him, by now he was a familiar face there, but aside from a gentle wave or ‘hello’, he passed them. He was a man on a mission, and he would leave here either victorious or crushed.

Looking around, he eventually found the mop of purple hair that belonged to the kid Shouta was so fond of.

While Shouta hadn’t mentioned it, Hizashi had noticed his husband was drawn to the kid. He could see why. They were quite alike, from habits to quirk to home life. So it was Hizashi’s mission to at least get to know the kid. Maybe it didn’t click at all, but he wanted to try. For Shouta. Because if it clicked somewhat—it doesn’t have to be to the extent of the way Shouta and Shinso clicked—the decision would be easy.

“Hey,” Hizashi said, waving awkwardly in a greeting.

The kid looked up from the book he was reading, blinking at him in surprise.

“You’re Aizawa’s wi—husband.”

Hizashi let out a laugh, managing to overcome his nerves briefly. He recalled Shouta telling him about the miss-gendering.

“Yeah, Yamada.”  No surname. Shouta had mentioned the kid had good instincts. “You’re Shinso, right?”

There was a small smile on Shinso’s lips. “No first name?”

Hizashi took this as a conversation starter and ran with it. “I tell mine if you want to share yours.”

He actually knew the kid’s first name, but he wanted to give the kid a chance to open up himself. After all, he wanted to connect to the kid, and sounding like a stalker wouldn’t cut it.

“Hitoshi.”

Hizashi grinned. “We almost match. Mine’s Hizashi.”

The kid nodded and fell silent. Looking at the body language, Hizashi assumed he wanted to return to his book, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. (He was a lot like Shouta, only Shouta had gotten better with social interactions).

“Anyway, Shouta couldn’t make it, so I dropped by to give you this.”

It was a lie. Shouta didn’t even know he was here, nor had they planned to give the kid anything. It was more like Hizashi’s way of bribing, though it was bribing through the connection he had with Shouta. He was a terrible human being.

He dug around his bag till he found the plastic bag that held a wearable version of Shouta’s capture weapon. Hizashi had spent a couple of nights working on it when he had been away on a school trip. It looked quite like Shouta’s capture weapon, only less tangible and unusable as a weapon. (There wasn’t any Eraser Head merchandise).

At least curious, Shinso took the plastic bag with faint excitement.

Taking out the cloth, Shinso smiled a soft, barely there, smile. “Thank you,” Shinso muttered. Despite the warm summer weather, he dumped the scarf around his neck.

Nuzzling the fabric, Hizashi saw the kid’s eyes lit up. “It’s soft. Thank you.”

“It was no problem.” Hizashi waved it off, checking the time. He still had to do the groceries, and Shouta would kill him if he didn’t turn up in time with the stuff for dinner.

“It must have taken a lot of time,” Shinso said. This probably was the most the kid had spoken to him up until now.

“Not really, I—”

Shinso rolled his eyes. “I know you or Aizawa made it. There is no Eraser Head merch.”

Oh. The kid was sharp. Sharper than some of his students. Not that a sharp mind was everything there was to become a hero, a drive was important, good morals, a good quirk helped too.

The next words caught Hizashi off guard, as he thought the conversation going well.

“I won’t change,” Shinso blurted out, fixing Hizashi with a sad stare. “So you can try, you can bribe me, but I won’t change. You wouldn’t be the first person who is trying to ‘fix me’.”

What kind of homes did this kid live in?

Overcoming the initial surprise, Hizashi felt sick. He had read in the kid’s file that he had been in multiple foster homes and that none of them had worked out. Not all kids were fit to be stuffed in a home with five others, and that was fine. Hizashi couldn’t have brothers or sisters till he was older, because of his dangerous quirk. However, his parents had never tried to change him. His mothers had embraced his quirk, taught him that it was a part of him and that he should be proud of it. He could become an awesome hero, save many people.

“That’s wrong.” Hizashi couldn’t help, but sound horrified. He knew that it was a thing, but it was easy to forget that it happened. Happened too often, really. There were many kids in the foster system, and plenty of them was there because of their quirk.

The kid shrugged nonchalantly as if it didn’t hurt. (Hizashi imagined that it hurt, a lot). “Sorry I’m not an imposable, twelve-year—”

“Not like that!” Hizashi shouted. The windows shook a bit, and Shinso flinched.

Clearing his throat, keeping a steady level on his voice, Hizashi explained himself. “I mean that it’s wrong that they try to change you. You’re born with your quirk; you don’t have any say it. A parent is supposed to help their kid to embrace their quirk, not discouraging them from ever using it. It’s something they signed up for when they decided to get a kid.”

“Really?”

In situations like these, recalling irrelevant things was less than desirable. This was a serious conversation! However, the moment Shinso spoke, Hizashi had some kind of rapid-fire flashback to their wedding.

The whole, silly, love child thing. Before, Hizashi had jokily considered that Shinso might be Shouta’s love-child. But now, he should reconsider his theory. It was the way Shinso’s voice had grown small, the way his expression opened-up in sadness and worry. It reminded him of himself, the way they handled sadness and worry.

Shinso wasn’t just Shouta’s secret love child. He was Shouta’s and his love child (though Shinso looked and acted way more like Shouta). He would never tell Shouta that.

“Yes, I—”

Hizashi felt his body freeze. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t control his limbs, not even his pinkie or doing something as simple as blink.

By the panicked look on the kid’s face, Hizashi realised that a) it was his quirk, and b) it wasn’t intentional.

A string of ‘sorry’s’ were uttered and the kid screwed up his face in focus, probably trying to undo his quirk.

By the time the feeling in his limbs returned, Shinso was panicking, tears were swimming in his eyes, and his breathing was laboured.

“Hey, it’s fine,” Hizashi said gently.

Instead of listening—fair enough, Hizashi wasn’t reasonable when distressed—Shinso shook his head, hands buried in his hair.

He knew this wasn’t Shouta, but that was the only one Hizashi knew how the handle during a panic attack.  He wasn’t used to handling distressed kids, he usually walked them to Recovery Girl’s office. Being a teacher wasn’t the same as being an almost father-like figure, he couldn’t just send Shinso to one of the people working there—they were busy enough as it is.

Scooting closer, hoping that the kid wouldn’t murder him, he untangled his fist from his hair, lacing their fingers together and pressed his forehead against Shinso’s. The height difference was a bit awkward, and the nature of the relationship too, but he was currently winging it. (He should learn how to comfort kids if he ever wanted to become a dad).

“Hey, Hitoshi.” Using his first name seemed to do the trick, as Hizashi got a physical response in the form of a firm squeeze by a much smaller hand. “It’s okay—I’m not mad. I blew out my parents’ eardrums when I was just a babe, quirks aren’t always easy, and it’s fine. Just breathe with me.”

To his surprise, it did actually work. Though by the time Shinso was at ease, he pushed Hizashi away to create some space between them.

“Did you actually blast out your parents’ eardrums out?”

Hizashi nodded.

“What did they do afterwards?”

A sad smile curled on Hizashi’s lips. “They put me up for adoption. Though I absolutely adore by adoption parents—they are the best!”

“You aren’t saying it just to reassure me, right?”

Hizashi shook his head. “No, they’re great. My mother has hearing aids, and my mum is deaf. My quirk doesn’t bother them.”

Realisation dawned up Shinso’s face. “That explains your hands. You’re signing.”

Staring down at his hands, Hizashi was a bit puzzled how to react. Shouta had pointed out he did that a lot, but he never really noticed it himself.

“Oh. Yeah, I do that a lot.”

The kid didn’t seem to mind Hizashi’s lacklustre response. While he didn’t look sceptical or dismissive anymore, there was still a lingering of doubt in his face.

“Why would you adopt me? There are much nicer kids here, ones with less unconventional quirks or better personalities and social skills. I just don’t get it. Why me?”

Why him? Why not someone else?

“Honestly, you sealed your own fate when you decided to talk with Shouta.”

“Aizawa, right?”

Hizashi nodded.

“I didn’t know he was here to adopt,” Shinso blurted out. “I saw him with Patches, and I liked him—Patches rarely likes anyone.”

“Shouta is pretty good with cats. They like him.”

“I like him too,” Shinso admitted. “He doesn’t baby me, and I feel like he understands me.”

Hizashi let out a laugh. “To be honest, I thought you were his child at first. You two are quite alike.”

The kid grew flustered and let out an ‘oh’.

“Anyway, I think you can soon pack your bags,” Hizashi paused. “If you want, of course.”

Shinso shook his head. “I don’t have any say in this.”

“But you do. If you don’t want to go live with Shouta and me, it’s fine. Neither of us will force you.”

“No way I’m staying here.” His eyes were bright. “I mean; I don’t think many people can say they have a pro-hero as a guardian. I also will have my own room.”

Wait. What?

“Aizawa’s favourite hero is Present Mic, who is tall, blond and loud with a voice quirk. You look the same, and you have the same quirk. So you’re probably Present Mic.”

Shouta hadn’t lied that the kid was clever.

“Well, you got me, young listener,” Hizashi said dramatically. “Not many people figure it out.”

Shinso looked smug. “It was pretty easy. Anyway, who is your favourite hero? Your husband.”

“Of course.”

“Who is it?”

Hizashi picked up his bag and got up. It was time to ‘leave’. Or more like wrapping up the conversation. He still had to get groceries. He still had a will to live.

“You really want to know?”

Grinning, Hizashi saw Shinso looking intrigued. “My wonderful husband is The Silver Fox.”

Shinso blinked in confusion. “The Silver Fox?”

“The Silver Fox.”

The kid huffed and pouted. “I don’t think that there is a hero called The Silver Fox.”

Hizashi just grinned and ruffled the kid’s hair. “Underground heroes and all—they like to keep their presence quiet.”

“But you know who he is.”

“I’m his husband.”

“You’re mean.”

Was it mean? Maybe? Though, on the other hand, it was Shouta’s right to tell him, not Hizashi’s. After all, his husband was still a bit uncomfortable—though he didn’t mention it—that he possibly would adopt a fan. And foremost, there was the fear that Shinso only likes him for being Eraser Head and not being Aizawa Shouta.

“Adults are mean. You’ll have to ask it yourself.”

“Aizawa is actually nice, why did he marry you?”

Hizashi held up his hand defensively. “I don’t know, and I stopped questioning it after getting married—it was a mutual deal.”

“Do adults even talk with each other?”

In what kind of shitty households did this kid end up in?

“Generally, yes,” Hizashi said. “I mean, Shouta doesn’t like to talk, but we talk about things. Like marriage, adopting, next night’s dinner.”

“Next night’s dinner?”

“We’re busy, and I rarely cook, because I can’t cook to save my life.”

Shinso was, for the first time, actually laughing. It wasn’t Hizashi’s full-out belly laugh, but it was cute and there.

“You’re an adult. Aren’t all adults supposed to be able to do adult-things? Like cooking, cleaning, doing bills?”

“Only the adults who actually know how to be an adult, I’m still trying to figure it out. I can’t cook rice without overcooking it.”

While still smiling a little, Shinso had adopted a slightly confused look. “But you aren’t that young anymore, are you? I mean, aren’t you supposed to be a fully functional adult by your age?”

How old did this kid think he is? Thirty-five with a steady job and a family of five?

“I’m twenty-seven—that isn’t that old.”

“Really? I thought you and Aizawa were around the same age.”

“Same age?”

Shinso nodded. “Mid-thirties.”

He liked this kid. Maybe not for the same reason as Shouta, but the idea of adopting him started to become less… scary. The kid didn’t dislike him.

Laughing—this time keeping his quirk in check—he was already imagining telling Shouta this. He probably would be flustered. His husband cleaned up very well, but in his normal, shabby get-up, he looked a bit older. Not that Hizashi minded per se, they didn’t marry each other solely on looks. (Though Shouta looked a bit like a bad boy fantasy till you saw him holding a kitten).

“He’s twenty-six.”

“Oh. I thought you just were into old guys.”

Okay, yes, this kid was the one.

~*~

Shouta knew that Hizashi was hiding something from him, but he also knew that it was a matter of time before they talked about it. After all, he had to talk about the fact he wanted to adopt Shinso, and that he was afraid that it would be a him thing. They were both struggling with the adopting—things had changed already, and they didn’t even have a kid yet. Hizashi had a different job, Shouta was considering taking a teaching job. He had found a fan, and someone he wanted to protect, help and teach, even if they wouldn’t end up adopting him.

Eventually, Hizashi opened up—through the subject matter surprised Shouta a little.

“So, I visited Shinso last week,” Hizashi admitted. “When I was doing groceries.”

Shouta was surprised. He hadn’t told Hizashi about his worries, which meant that he had figured it all out on his own. Well, that was Hizashi.

“And, well, we talked.” Hizashi sounded sheepish, looking flustered. “I like him. He thought you were in your mid-thirties.”

Warmth bloomed in his chest. The fact his husband had bothered to connect with the kid he adored and liked him. He had been so scared that Hizashi wouldn’t like him, or that Shinso wouldn’t connect with Hizashi. He was loud and bright and a little intimidating.

“You’re smiling,” Hizashi pointed out, smiling himself. “He thinks you’re old, you know.”

Shouta sighed, though he knew it was a happy kind of sigh—carrying all the relief and stress he had held within. “I don’t care, just, thank you, for talking with him, giving him a chance.”

The bright smile his husband held grew smaller and softer. “Hey, I want a kid too. He’s adorable, he reminds me of you.”

“Me too,” Shouta admitted softly. “Though I didn’t expect to like him that much.”

“He’s smart, we need some brains in the household.”

“Why did I marry you?”

Hizashi shrugged. “I don’t know—you asked.”

~*~

When all legal stuff had been arranged—Shouta had seen enough paperwork to last him a life-time—Hitoshi moved in with them. (And Patches. Somehow, the kid had managed to smuggle in a stray cat. Not that Shouta was going to say no, all their current cats used to be strays).

They had a spare bedroom, which now was Shinso’s bedroom, and everything settled into place. Hizashi was often the one in charge of breakfast and bringing Shinso to school, while Shouta spends more time doing the cooking and the necessary help with homework (Shinso rarely asked—he barely talked honestly).

Because Shinso was added to their lives late, for both of them, they had a lot of catching up to do. It was weird to talk about themselves—their childhoods, their relationship (though they left out, well, most details), their friends and current lives. Hizashi’s different jobs, his DJ-gig, his hero work and his teaching job. While Hizashi wanted to introduce Shinso to Tensei, Nemuri and his own parents—they both decided to wait a little. It could be a bit overwhelming, to meet so many important people at once.

Shinso got all starry-eyed when Hizashi mentioned he worked for U.A. Shouta, however, was vague about his hero work, just that he didn’t like the media attention. There was no lie there, though not his main reason for keeping it quiet. He was afraid Shinso would be disappointed with who he was; that Eraser Head was just a normal human being.

In hindsight, telling him might have saved him some embarrassment.

~*~

Sometimes, Shouta still had a night shift. It messed up his sleeping schedule, but he liked it. There was a certain calmness to the night. There was loneliness too, but with a husband to return home to, he didn’t mind too much.

He left after dinner and generally returned before sunrise. When he lived on his own, he had entered his apartment without bothering to be quiet. When he had moved in with Hizashi, he snuck in through the window. The door moaned and groaned, and he hated to wake Hizashi up. The window was a quiet entering. In addition to that, he would end up in the kitchen, where he could grab a quick snack before falling in bed.

Tonight was no different. It was somewhere around five, his stomach was groaning, and Hizashi had mercifully let the window open. On the one hand, it was dangerous because people could just enter their home. On the other hand, the person had to scale up five floors and survive the cats.

Looking through the fridge, Shouta looked for something quick and easy to eat that wasn’t overly sweet. Hizashi had a serious sweet-tooth, and it turned it Hitoshi had one too.

In the end, he found some fruity gel pouch Hizashi had bought it ages ago, but it seemed that it wasn’t expired. Inhaling the content, Shouta wasn’t too focussed on his surroundings. Hizashi always slept like a lodge and knew about Shouta’s habits.

However, Hitoshi didn’t. So the sudden flash of light came as a surprise. Hizashi would just turn on the light, instead of flashing a flashlight. Looking at the source of light, Shouta saw Hitoshi standing in the faint light of a phone torch. He looked pretty frightened, no recognition in his gaze.

“What are you doing here?” Hitoshi’s voice held hostility and fear.

He should have told Hitoshi about his job after all. Or at least that he liked to raid the fridge once he returned and that he never turned the lights on.

“I—” He froze, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

Considering Hitoshi was glaring at him, he had purposely used his quirk on Shouta. He hadn’t screamed, he hadn’t cried, he just had done what was necessary to guarantee his safety. Shouta both proud and sad. Proud because the kid had good instincts, sad because he somehow knew how to handle these situations. He would have rather had Hitoshi just cry, or yell, or react like a twelve-year-old was supposed to react.

“Stay,” Hitoshi ordered, and he sprinted into the hallway.

“Yamada!” Shouta heard Hitoshi shout, followed by loud pounding on a door. Probably on the door of his and Hizashi’s shared bedroom. “There is a burglar.”

Shouta tried to move, but he had no idea how to wrestle himself out of control. On the other hand, Hizashi would realise it was him, probably scold him, and he could return to bed.

The bedroom door was swung open with a loud bang (that would need some fixing), and Hizashi stumbled into the hallway.

“Are you okay?” Hizashi voice was loud and wobbly, because of the lack of quirk control, but it held concern.

He heard Hitoshi mumble an ‘I’m fine’.

The light flicked on, and he saw Hizashi and Hitoshi stand in the opening of the hallway, staring at him with ever-changing expression.

Hizashi went from worry to relief to exasperation—fair enough. Hitoshi went through a more interest range of emotions. Fright, surprised, disbelief, shock and it was topped off with excitement. He must have recognised Shouta in his hero grab.

“Eraser Head,” Shinso said excitedly. Shouta felt the control of his limbs return.

At the same time, Hizashi sighed ‘Shouta’, shaking his head.

“Shouta?” Shinso repeated, recognition flickering in his eyes. “Wait, you are Eraser Head?”

Taking off his scarf and goggles—why was he even wearing them inside? —Shouta nodded. He was surprised Shinso hadn’t figured out earlier. His appearance didn’t change much, he only added his capture weapon and goggles. His hair was still shaggy, his clothes baggy, and his face was the same.

For the first time this morning, Hitoshi acted like his age and was enthusiastically bouncing on his feet, grinning brightly. The kid looked so incredibly happy, and it warmed Shouta’s heart. He should have told him before, before getting caught under the assumptions of burglary.

“Can I tell my classmates?” Hitoshi asked, eyes wide with hope.

Shouta felt his stomach drop, and the pained grimace Hizashi shot him showed that his husband was on the same page as him, no matter how painful it was.

Tossing the empty gel pouch in the trash, Shouta carefully approached Hitoshi and crouched down in front of him, making it so that they were on the same height level.

“I’m sorry, you can’t,” Shouta said. “For your own safety.”

Shinso pouted. “Why can’t I tell them I’m staying with two pro-heroes? They will think twice doing anything to me.”

“Or they think you’re a worthwhile target. Pissing off some pro-heroes is a villains dream.”

“But you guys aren’t very popular, not like All Might or Endeavor.”

“Do you think they care? They just see an easy target.” Shouta hated how worried he sounded. The scenario was very unlikely to happen, and Hitoshi was pretty capable of handling himself if necessary. “You’re twelve-year-old. I want to have you a happy childhood as long as I can manage. There is nothing fun about growing up too soon.”

There was sadness lingering in Hitoshi’s expression. “But they already don’t believe I’m finally adopted—they think I made you guys up. They especially won’t believe me if I can’t tell them anything.”

Carding his fingers through Hitoshi’s hair, Shouta carefully spoke his next words. “You can’t tell them we’re pro-heroes, but you can tell them a lot. You can tell them Hizashi is a DJ and a teacher, and that I will start a teaching job next year. You can talk about the house, about the cats, about how I set dinner on fire last night. And if they don’t believe you, we can always show up at your school, not that I will leave a good impression.”

Shouta was relieved to see Hitoshi smile a little.

“Maybe they would think I’m your secret love child or something.”

Secret love child?

Raising up, Shouta mustered his best smile and looked at his husband. Hizashi grew paler by the second, it worked.

“Hizashi, what did you tell him?”

“Just that you two looked like,” Hizashi babbled, waving around with his arms in distress. “I never said you could be his biological father—you’re too…”

“Too what?”

Hizashi swallowed. “Too gay for that.”

Shouta snorted. He should have known the answer—Nemuri would have said ‘awkward’ or ‘unappealing’. He was perfectly well aware that he wasn’t the best looking guy out there, and it wasn’t like he tried. The past had shown better clothing and actually doing his hair did miracles. But Hizashi was perfectly fine with how he looked and acted.

Hitoshi had his head cocked in curiosity when he spoke again. “Gay means you only like the same gender, right?”

Shouta and Hizashi nodded in unison.

“What if you don’t like anyone?”

Hizashi let out a loud laugh, startling the others. “You would be Shouta during his puberty.”

~*~

“I can’t believe you think you’re bad with kids,” Hizashi said after tucking Hitoshi in.

Hizashi was already dressed in pyjama’s—which was basically threadbare PJ-bottoms. Shouta had just stripped down to his briefs (there was only so little that could fit under his hero outfit, despite it being rather baggy). Picking up a shirt—it probably was Hizashi’s—and slid it on. He didn’t want to traumatise Hitoshi by basically walking around naked.

“I’m not good with them.” Shouta protested, sliding into the bed.

Out of habit, Hizashi wrapped himself around Shouta, nuzzling his neck. Shouta squirmed into the hold. His husband was mean, knowing that he was ticklish and where he was the most sensitive.

“He loves you.” Hizashi breathed against his neck. “You might not believe me, but he does. I can see it in the way he looks at you.”

“Adoration doesn’t count.”

“I wasn’t talking about adoration.”

Shouta pretended that the shriek that followed didn’t happen. It was unfair that Hizashi knew his body so well (and knew him so well in general—he couldn’t hide anything from him).

“Than what are you talking about?”

Hizashi smiled against his neck, snuffling a bit. They usually slept like this, Shouta being the little spoon while Hizashi clamped himself around Shouta like an octopus. There wasn’t much difference concerning their height, so it was just what worked best. Hizashi usually got out earlier than Shouta, which meant he wouldn’t have to wake Shouta up. If the roles were reversed, it was Shouta who draped himself over Hizashi (though more often than not, he still ended up being the little spoon halfway through the night).

“The kid looks at you like you hung the moon and stars.”

Pressing his cold feet against Hizashi’s warm calve—his husband didn’t even flinch damn it—Shouta let out a disgruntled sigh.

“You make it sound like he’s trying to marry me.”

“He’s just like Tenya. Completely and utterly infatuated with you.”

Hizashi yelped loudly as Shouta pinched his arm, hard. “You make it sound like they’re competing for my love—they’re kids. I’m twice their age, and we’re both parental figures towards them.” He paused, wondering what else to add to it. It was sad to see Hizashi genuinely thinking he was competing with two kids for Shouta’s love. He was going to regret these words. “I love them dearly, but they aren’t you. You’re the one I love. I married you and never regretted it, despite that there are many, eligible bachelors out there. Even if they’re just twelve-year-olds according to you.”

The overly wet and noisy kiss Hizashi planted on his neck was a tell-tale for his reaction, his feelings. Hizashi liked to get sappy when he felt overwhelmed.

“That’s gross.”

“Love you so much.”

Shouta felt himself grow warm, and he knew that he couldn’t blame it on Hizashi’s body warmth (though the guy was like a heater).

“You can’t say that.”

“Why not?”

Because while Hizashi got sappy when overwhelmed with feelings, Shouta felt himself grow awkward and embarrassing. Conveying his feelings never have been exactly easy, and Hizashi being, well, Hizashi, didn’t make it easier.

“You don’t have to actually answer that, you know.”

Shouta sighed, deciding that he just should be awkward for now, because Hizashi deserved it. And if Hizashi ever spilt his embarrassing stories, he could call in a divorce. He would just get married again, this time gunning for Tensei (because he was loaded, Shouta didn’t hate him, and he had Tenya as a little brother) and take Hitoshi with him.

“You can’t say that, because you make me feel overwhelmed,” Shouta whispered, flat-out pushing his face into his pillow. “I hate feeling overwhelmed, it’s scary.”

Love was scary, even after all these years. But Hizashi made it easy to love, to feel overwhelmed with feelings. And honestly, Shouta wasn’t sure if he could live without feeling his heart beating out of his chest, his palm sweating. Because there was also this feeling of ease that had settled in his body, a feeling he hadn’t known before meeting Hizashi.

“I can’t believe you think twelve-year-olds are competition.”

“I used to have you all to myself—only now people are starting to realise what kind of wonderful person you are.”

If Hizashi had seen him, Shouta would have rolled his eyes. He married an idiot.

“Don’t roll your eyes.”

“Then don’t act dumb. You’re smart. You, of all people, should know how love works. Admiration and infatuation are different than what we have.”

Hizashi pressed a kiss on the top of Shouta’s head. This conversation was going on for way, way too long. It was late, Hizashi had to get out of bed early, and Shouta felt like he had talked enough about feelings to last him months.

~*~

Shouta had forgotten about it.

Well, not necessarily forgotten. It wasn’t unusual for them to look after Tenya if the rest of the family was away. He just hadn’t taken into account that Hitoshi was now sleeping in the old guest room.

With Hizashi still asleep—he usually slept in till late on a Saturday because of his DJ-gig—Shouta knew it was up to him to call the shots. He couldn’t kick Hitoshi out of his bedroom—he had explicitly said it was his own sanctuary, the place he would get all the privacy he wanted (unless the house were burning down, Shouta would kick down the door and drag him out). But on the other hand, he couldn’t ban Tenya to the couch. That would make them terrible hosts.

Taking a seat at the dining table, where Hitoshi was absentmindedly shoving food in his mouth while thumbing through his phone, Shouta wondered how to broach the subject.

“We’ll have a guest over,” Shouta said bluntly, cutting straight to the point.

“Okay.”

The kid hadn’t even bothered to put away his phone. Shouta mentally made a note that he should start a ‘no phones at table’ rule.

“And he will be staying for the night.”

This did the trick. Hitoshi finally put away his phone, looking slightly worried. As the seconds ticked by, Hitoshi’s pancake started to resemble syrup-drenched dough more and more. Shouta got a cavity by just looking at it. So much sugar.

“Where will he be staying?”

Shouta knew Hitoshi was pretty protective over his bedroom. Only the cats were really allowed in there, and occasionally Shouta or Hizashi. But mostly the cats (especially Patches the Second—as two Patches had started to sound too confusing).

“The master bedroom, probably. Hizashi and I will sleep on the couch.”

There was relief written all over Hitoshi’s face, though the pinch between his eyebrows told him that there was still something on his mind. “Last time someone stayed over, that woman—”

“Nemuri.”

“—slept on the couch. So why shouldn’t he?”

“Because Tenya is twelve-year-old and I think Tensei will kill me if I let him sleep on the couch.”

Tensei would definitely kill them if he let Tenya sleep on the couch. It was a comfortable couch, one they bought for its comfort. But still. On the other hand, Tensei seemed to care more about Tenya than their parents did. The kid basically had a second father. All-in-all, Tensei would often overreact when it came to Tenya. (He worried too much sometimes).

Hitoshi spoke with hesitation, “He can sleep in my room if that suits you better.”

“Only if you want,” Shouta said. “You don’t have to do anything to please us, you’re here front the long run.”

“Oh.” Hitoshi looked startled. “I can, still try, you know. I can give him a chance.”

Like you gave me a chance.

“He’s pretty okay.” Shouta patted the kid on his head. “Mostly quiet, though he can be loud, sometimes.”

“We live with Yamada. Is he louder than Yamada?”

“No.”

“Then it will be fine.”

~*~

Shouta really, really hoped that Hitoshi hadn’t either killed or brainwashed Tenya. He had given Tenya a heads-up that this could happen, the brainwashing thing, and that he shouldn’t panic or get mad at Hitoshi (at least if it wasn’t on purpose). Tenya had promised him tenfold he would look after Hitoshi (he had yet to mention to Tenya that Hitoshi was about two months older than him, and on paper the more responsible one of the two). But that didn’t make him less worry.

It was a bit funny because usually the roles were reversed. Hizashi panicking, Shouta calm and rational. But now it was Hizashi. He came up with logical responses, like that the chance the house would burn down was almost insignificant. Both kids didn’t have an offensive quirk. Still, leaving two twelve-year-olds alone for over two hours didn’t sit well with Shouta. They should have brought the kids along to grocery shopping.

While not voicing it, he was utterly and foremost relieved when he opened the door and heard two voices. Tenya’s voice was loud and heated. Hitoshi’s softer but sharp. Shouta figured they were having some kind of discussion, which was… not bad. Not favourable, but they hadn’t murdered each other yet, or were painfully ignoring each other.

As they hadn’t announced their presence yet, Shouta snuck through the hallway. Not that he needed to be quiet—the kids were loud. Looking around the corner, he found both kids in the living room, seated on the big couch. They really needed a lot of training before they could become heroes because this was way too easy.

“Endeavor is the number two hero. The ranking doesn’t lie,” Tenya argued, sharp arm-motions and all.

“Doesn’t mean he isn’t a dick.”

“Language”

Hitoshi grinned slyly. “Dick.”

Tenya grew flustered, disbelief painting his face. “We’re talking about one of the best pro-heroes around here. Why do you address him with such a vulgar language?”

“I appreciate what he does, but his personality is terrible.”

There was hesitation in Tenya’s voice, which Shouta immediately identified as defeat. Tenya was generally the one who won the argument and got a bit sulky if he was outwitted.

“He isn’t the kindest hero,” Tenya admitted. “But that’s why I want to become like my brother, Ingenium! He’s such a cool hero, and so kind. The people love him.”

Hitoshi’s entire face lit up. Shouta had quickly learned Hitoshi loved heroes, especially the smaller, lesser knowns ones. He found himself in them, probably, seeing that a hero could come from any kind of background (though the Iida family was a famous hero family).

“You’re his brother? That’s so cool. Ingenium is such an awesome hero! He is one of the few heroes Eraser Head teams up with. There is Present Mic, but that’s unfair. They’re married.”

Shouta cleared his throat, causing both kids to jump in surprise. “Well, me and Tensei are friends, so it isn’t surprising we team up. Though Tensei mostly teams up with Hizashi.”

Realisation dawned upon Hitoshi’s face. Honestly, it has been a few weeks since Hitoshi had found out that Shouta was Eraser Head. And while he got a couple of questions, his connections with the others heroes were barely touched upon during the questioning.

“That means you know Ms. Joke,” Hitoshi said excitedly, and Tenya’s face filled with interest. “And Midnight, and the Wild, Wild Pussycats—Mandalay is my favourite!”

Shouta should have taken the hostage situation in consideration. Yet, he hadn’t, so now he was taken hostage by two kids. Though, if Hizashi had been a kinder husband, he would have saved him. Instead, Hizashi just cleared out the groceries and sat down, listening to Shouta talking about his co-workers and reluctantly answering questions.

~*~

Hitoshi felt his heart thrumming, palms sweating and there was a noticeable fight-or-flight response shimmering underneath the surface of his skin. He should just turn around and crawl back into bed, suck it up and try to sleep.

But he has been living with Yamada and Aizawa for three months, and sometimes, he just couldn’t sleep. His skin crawled, his heart pounded and he just couldn’t will himself to sleep, which usually did the job. Today he was just over and done with it. He wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon.

With a blanket draped over his shoulders—the apartment wasn’t quite winter proof—Hitoshi crept out of his bedroom, using his phone to light up the hallway. Aizawa didn’t have work, and Yamada didn’t have his DJ-gig, which meant both were safely tucked away in bed. So they would never know that Hitoshi had crept out of bed, which meant he wouldn’t get a scolding.

Entering the living room, he noticed that the kitchen light was still on. It wouldn’t be the first time Yamada fell asleep doing grade-work.

His mind screamed to retreat, but he also felt guilty for leaving Yamada laying there. He could always write it off as him waking up in need to use the bathroom. There would be no punishment, maybe he was even appreciative.

Walking into the kitchen, Hitoshi froze to see Aizawa sitting there instead of Yamada. Perfectly awake.

Aizawa looked up from the paper he was reading, it was some kind of magazine. Hitoshi was pretty sure Yamada had bought it, as it looked glossy and gossipy.

He waited for the scolding, for Aizawa to tell him to go back to bed, that he shouldn’t be up at this time of day. But the words never came. Instead Aizawa nodded, and Hitoshi took a seat at the dining table. He started to mindlessly scroll through his phone, the restless feeling ebbing away slowly.

Maybe ten minutes into the odd event, the soft sound of padding feet broke the silence and Yamada entered the kitchen. He looked tired, freshly awake unlike him or Aizawa, who looked like he hadn’t slept a wink.

Just like Aizawa, Yamada didn’t talk to him, instead opting to rummage through the kitchen and making tea. Five minutes-or-so later, Hizashi placed a mug in front of Aizawa, and one in front of him.

Surprised at the gesture, Hitoshi lifted the cup and carefully took a sip. It tasted sweet and exactly how he liked to take it. How did Yamada know?

Yamada planted a kiss on Aizawa’s cheek and spoke, voice thick with sleep. “Try to go to bed before sunrise.”

Aizawa grunted an ‘okay’ and returned to reading the gossip magazine. Hitoshi himself got his unruly hair ruffled—a habit both adults somehow had picked up and stuck with—and then Yamada just left. No ‘go to bed’, or ‘tomorrow is school, you know?’

“You look surprised,” Aizawa remarked, sipping his own tea.

Drinking his own tea, Hitoshi shrugged. “I expected a scolding.”

“That would be hypocritical. I’m sitting here.”

Hitsohi smiled weakly. “Yamada doesn’t mind?”

Aizawa shook his head. “In the beginning, it was a bit of a struggle to find the balance, but in the end, we figured it out. I wouldn’t leave bed immediately if I can’t sleep, and usually, I fall asleep. And if that doesn’t happen, I just crawl out of bed and try to wind down somewhere else. By now, Hizashi had developed a sixth sense, somehow knowing when I left the bed. He usually wakes up, makes tea and just heads back to bed.”

Hitoshi was pretty surprised by the answer. The two of them reminded him of those very rare childhood friend stories. People who knew each other from the diapers onwards, who fluttered around each other with so much ease and understanding that it felt natural.

“I expected…” Hitoshi bit his lip, wondering if he just crossed a boundary. “That you guys had figured out each other ages ago—you guys seem so familiar with each other.”

Aizawa looked a little flustered, smiling shyly. It was an odd look. He didn’t get to see Aizawa like this often, he was usually composed.

“We’ll be married for three years in January,” Aizawa said. “And in June we officially know each other for five years. It isn’t quite long—most people think that, you know, that we’ve been together for decades.”

It was such a wild concept to him. He had been staying at foster families in which the parents had been married for decades, but they never had been like Yamada and Aizawa. There was rarely romance, more companionship and worry. Worry on how to handle five kids, on how to handle all the different quirks. Worry that their relationship would fall apart because they didn’t make time for each other.

“Your tea is getting cold.”

Hitoshi picked up his cup again and drowned the rest at once. It would be a shame to waste it.

“Do you have more of these,” Hitoshi asked, gesturing to the gossip paper Aizawa was reading.

Aizawa grinned and produced a glossy, pink-themed paper from thin air. “We have a ridiculous big stock of these—Hizashi buys or gets them, I’m usually the one who ends up reading them.”

Snorting, Hitoshi started to thumb through the pages, looking for a story to catch his attention.

This was nice. It was calm and warm. Not in temperature but in feeling. This little apartment might finally start to feel like a proper home, though it probably were the people who made it home.

~*~

It was quite unusual for someone to call Shouta for non-hero related things. He preferred to text, and he usually just ignored the ringing of his phone if someone called.

On the other hand, he could understand Tensei’s laziness. Texting took effort and arranging things over text was an absolute pain. A quick phone call could save a lot of time, something Shouta was all in for. Time efficiency that is. Not actually calling someone.

“Our parents are away on holiday, which is fine but work suddenly requires me to work over the weekend, and I don’t want to leave Tenya all on his own,” Tensei explained, sounding for once annoyed with the situation.

Tensei loves his hero work, Shouta knew that, but there was one thing he loves way more, and that’s his family. Nothing comes between him and his family. Honestly, if Shouta hadn’t been dating Hizashi, and all of them were friends, he would have put his money on Tensei being the first one to either settle down, get kids, or at least being the first one to adopt strays. Instead, somehow Hizashi and Shouta ticked off all the boxes. Stray cats, marriage, a kid.

“I will have to check,” Shouta said, feeling a tad guilty for lying. They were free in the weekend, but he felt obligated to ask Hitoshi, as most likely they would be rooming together.

Muting his phone, he walked up to Hitoshi’s bedroom and knocked, waiting for the ‘yes?’ that came seconds after.

Opening the door, he offered Hitoshi a small, awkward wave.

“Tensei suddenly has his weekend booked for work, so he can’t look after Tenya. Do you mind if he stays here?”

Hitoshi shrugged, not even looking up from his phone. “I don’t mind.”

“You don’t have to agree for the sake of agreeing, you know? If you don’t want it, you can just say.”

This time, Hitoshi looked up. “I don’t mind Tenya. He promised to help me with history anyway so having him over is easier than texting.”

Shouta wondered when Hitoshi and Tenya had exchanged numbers, but he decided that this could wait till later. Instead, he nodded and closed the door.

Unmuting the call, he hoped that Tensei hadn’t hung up on him.

“It’s fine, he can stay over.”

Tensei sighed in relief. “You two are a miracle. Tenya never liked his babysitters—he always has been too polite about it, but we never came home seeing him happy. He never talked about them, and now he won’t shut about you, or Hizashi. Even sometimes Hitoshi. Maybe they become friends, and you’ll be stuck with for even longer.”

It was heart-warming to hear Tenya liked them. He had assumed it because Tensei let him return, but it was nice to hear some kind of confirmation. No matter what Hizashi said, he wasn’t very good with kids, so it was always trying and figuring it out. (Hizashi was great with kids).

“I think they’re already friends,” Shouta said, suddenly recalling that Hitoshi already had Tenya’s number, and by the sound of it, they texted a lot. “They have each other’s number.”

There was a surprisingly long silence on Tensei’s side before he spoke in a calm, not-Tensei-like manner. “Tenya won’t become an Aizawa. They’re taking my family name or don’t marry at all.”

“They’re twelve!”

“I’m not risking anything!” Tensei shouted, laughter in his voice. “Tenya should remain an Iida. What if people realise that we’re related to each other? That would be horrible.”

Shouta did what suited the situation the best, and that was to end the call without any pardon. Tensei would text him the details later on.

~*~

Hizashi was pretty surprised to be called out of class. His class didn’t mind, his students were happy to be let out 10 minutes earlier, but Hizashi was a bit worried. Shouta was out of town for hero work, which could mean that something had happened to him. Or Hitoshi’s school had called that he accidentally set-off his quirk and had brainwashed one of the kids. He was getting better at it, Hizashi had been helping with controlling his quirk, but it still could happen.

Anyway, Hizashi wasn’t quite as excited as his students to be called away, so he followed Nemuri reluctantly, hoping that he was worrying for no reason whatsoever.

“Don’t look like that,” Nemuri said, shooting him a smile. “It’s nothing bad.”

Feeling a bit more at ease, Hizashi followed Nemuri with renewing energy. Maybe it was something silly, or Shouta had returned early and wanted to surprise Hizashi. (It was unlikely. Knowing Shouta, he would crash into bed the moment he had returned home.)

The teacher lounge was mostly empty, most of the staff still have classes. Only Thirteen was there. And Hitoshi.

“What are you doing here?” Hizashi asked with surprise, pinching himself to make sure he wasn’t making up his son awkwardly standing in the middle of the teacher lounge. Yup, he was still there.

“I’m sorry!” Hitoshi was flustered, shrinking on the spot. “Dad isn’t home, and I forgot my keys so I couldn’t get home, and now I’m here.”

Hizashi realised that Hitoshi, probably for the first time, called Shouta dad. They never had made any rules concerning names, Hizashi called Shouta, well that, and vice versa. Calling each other dad and papa sounded just weird to him.

Sighing, though finding it hard to be annoyed, he walked up to Hitoshi and ruffled his hair. “It’s fine, can happen.”

Hitoshi looked relieved. “Sorry for bothering you at work. I was surprised they even let me in—I don’t even go here.”

The kid was very perspective. Hizashi had to talk with Nedzu about the school security if a twelve-year-old could just walk in. On the other hand, Hitoshi was registered under Shinso Aizawa-Yamada Hitoshi—and the guards must have recognised their surnames.

Hizashi pondered what to do with the situation. He couldn’t give Hitoshi his own keys, if not solely for the fact his car-keys were attached to the same ring (and it would take the end of the world to separate the key from the ring). And, he still had a class to teach in, like, ten minutes, and he couldn’t just bail (though his students wouldn’t mind).

“I have a class in ten, so we can’t leave yet. But you still have homework, right?” Hitoshi nodded. “You can stay here at my desk, and we’ll leave once I finished my class. Does it sound like a plan?”

Hitoshi looked more excited than he ought to be. On the other hand, he was currently standing in the teacher lounge of one of Japan’s most prestigious hero schools. If Hizashi had been in his shoes, he would have been awfully excited too.

“Which desk is yours?”

Did he really have to ask? Most desks were pretty personalised. Hizashi’s was filled with music-related stuff, hair-items and stationary (Shouta had given him glitter gel-pens as a gag-gift once, he used them to correct papers).

“The cluttered one,” Nemuri pointed out.

Hitoshi looked excited while Hizashi felt a little flustered. His desk wasn’t even that cluttered, it’s just that he has an awful lot of stuff.

Deciding that Hizashi’s desk sufficed, Hitoshi walked to his desk and started to check the content. Noisy little brat.

“You use glitter pens?” Hitoshi asked, waving a neon-yellow pen around.

“Shouta got them for me.”

Hitoshi snorted, putting the pen down and started to unload his bag with homework.

“I will be back in an hour,” Hizashi said, grabbing a few things from his desk, manoeuvring between Hitoshi’s homework. “If there are any issues, you can pester Midnight.”

Nemuri let a disagreeing noise, but Hizashi paid her no mind. She was pretty fond of Hitoshi—occasionally calling him Mini Shouta.

He wished Hitoshi goodbye and hurried to his next class before they started a riot.

~*~

“How was your day?” Hizashi asked with his phone pressed between his cheek and shoulder. “Mission close to finishing?”

It was unusual for Hizashi to run around the kitchen, doing the actual cooking, but he felt like an irresponsible dad if he only ordered take-out. He could cook if necessary, but the food was mediocre at best.

Shouta sounded tired. “We’re making progress, I’m hoping to return home in a couple of days. How was your day? Kids didn’t burn down the school?”

“Nah, they were angels,” Hizashi snorted. “Well, as far as they can be angels. Also.”

Hizashi looked around, making sure Hitoshi wasn’t in the room. He probably wouldn’t be happy if Hizashi let it slip, but he was too giddy about the development. It has been five months since Hitoshi joined the family and he wondered if they would be ever called anything else than Aizawa and Yamada.

“Well, Hitoshi showed up at school, as he had forgotten his key.” Hizashi smiled. “He called you dad.”

Shouta sounded like he was dying. In a very Shouta-like-manner. Quiet and subtle, but Hizashi knew how to identify all the small noises Shouta could make.

“I can’t believe he called me dad,” Shouta said quietly. “I mean; me as a dad is just… weird.”

“Shouta. If you weren’t hours away, I would have cuddled the fuck out of you.”

“Now I’m not sure if I want to return home—I don’t want to be cuddled to death.”

Hizashi let out a dramatic sigh, “I’m not ready to become a single parent, who is going to teach Hitoshi to become a kick-ass hero? Not me.”

“You strike a hard bargain.”

“I know right.” Hizashi hated how his voice cracked. “I miss you.”

“Me too. Tell Hitoshi I said hi.”

“Will do. Be safe?”

“I will try.”