Work Text:
“Toshinori, you’re being an idiot.” All Might mumbled to himself, typing away at an email with poorly hidden irritation.
The cause of his irritation was completely irrational and something so embarrassing he wouldn’t admit it under pain of death: Izuku had called Aizawa ‘Dad’. Accidentally, obviously, the boy was still too scared of his homeroom teacher to tease him to his face. In fact, the only reason he knew about it in the first place was because Present Mic refused to stop teasing a nonplussed Aizawa over it.
It wasn’t like he’d be upset Izuku saw Aizawa like a father, lord knew the kid needed some positive role models in his life, but still.
He wanted to be dad.
He groaned, none too gently slamming his face into the keyboard, gaunt face pressing uncomfortably against the surprisingly sharp keys. This was getting ridiculous, he wasn’t a child, he shouldn’t be so upset by this. But he was. He heard someone settle onto the desk beside him. Aizawa himself, presumably.
“Tch.” Yep. Definitely Aizawa. “Hizashi won’t shut up about the problem child - it’s not even the first time someone in that class has done it. This week, even.” Toshinori turned his face slightly to the side, shooting a look at the other teacher. A little part of his heart wanted to tell him to stop bragging. The rest was hitting that bit enthusiastically with a large stick. “Besides,” Aizawa continued on, ignoring what had to be an intense aura of irritation. “We all know who Midoriya really sees as a dad.” That last part was said with a small smirk. He huffed a quiet laugh, before slinking off in a decided cat-like manner. Jackass.
It wasn’t even a full minute later that Izuku stumbled through the staffroom door, not even bothering to knock, before scrambling over to Toshinori’s desk. The kid practically flew himself at Toshinori, face bright red with embarrassment. “All Might!” he kid whined plaintively into Toshinori’s boney chest, “I can never look at Aizawa-sensei again! You have to end me, please. I can’t go on like this.” Toshinori felt his irritation slipping away at the decidedly adorable sight of his successor trying to compress into the worlds smallest ball of human. He was doing a shockingly good job for a kid as bulky as he was.
“What happened, my boy?” He asked, trying to keep the laughter from his voice.
“Nope. Nah uh. Not telling.” He let out a sharp bark of laughter that quickly dissolved into some quiet giggles. Izuku tilled his head out of his ball of contortion just long enough to fix his mentor with a glare before his buried his face back into Toshinori’s chest. It had to be uncomfortable, what with the numerous pointy rib bones, but Izuku didn’t seem to care. “Don’t laugh at my suffering, meanie.”
Toshinori bit back another bark of laughter, gently rubbing circles on his boy’s back. “I’m sure it’s not the first time it’s happened to him, he’s had a lot of students, after all.” Izuku shook his head violently, mumbling incomprehensibly into Toshinori’s sternum. “I didn’t quite catch that, care to repeat yourself?”
“I mean, I’m not even sure how I did that!” He whined, still refusing to lift his head. “It’s not like I’ve even called anyone dad since I was four,” Now that did send a sharp pang through Toshinori’s chest. Present Mic, who had been silently laughing at the whole exchange winced sharply. Toshinori frantically gestured with his hand, trying to convey that any here should be not here, quickly. It worked. “Plus, he’s so scary! Cool, but I have nightmares of him handing out quizzes I haven’t studied for.” The kid shuddered melodramatically. “ ’Sides,” He mumbled softly, slowly relaxing into Toshinori’s hold, emotional drain and the warmth of his mentor’s arms making him drowsy, “You’re more like my dad. Give good hugs too.”
Toshinori felt a grin split his face, but he made sure not to move. His successor wasn’t fully awake and he wasn’t sure he’d had said the same thing fully conscious. Still, he felt like the luckiest man in the world. “You’d make a pretty great son, too.” He murmured, free hand coming to rest in Izuku’s hair.
And if the two of them sat there all of the lunch break, half asleep – or fully, in Izuku’s case - in the warmth of the staffroom? Well, that was between a father and his son, wasn’t it?