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He wandered down to the kitchen, and was surprised to find Aizawa grading papers—or maybe he wasn’t surprised, because teachers were supposed to grade papers, right? Plus, he was pretty sure Aizawa-sensei was an insomniac, so it would make sense for him to be up this late, and even if he was tired he had a mug next to his papers which was probably filled with coffee or a caffeinated tea and he sleeps sometimes in class so–
“Problem child.”
Deku snapped from his train of thought. His teacher continued,
“I can hear your muttering from over here. What is it?”
“I-I never said anything was wrong with m–”
“But you mumble when you’re anxious. So,” Aizawa peeled his eyes away from Kaminari’s essay and piqued an eyebrow at his student, “what’s wrong?”
Midoriya slumped his shoulders as he let out a sigh, defeated.
“I really shouldn’t be bothering you with this” he began, before he was cut off.
“I never said I was bothered, Midoriya. If I was, I wouldn’t have asked you what was wrong.”
“Well yeah, but–”
“Do you trust me?”
Izuku sputtered, “of course I do!”
“Then trust me now when I say that I am not bothered.” Aizawa drawled, before stretching his arms above his head and nodding his head in the direction of the stove, “Go get a kettle and some tea. Your choice. I put up with that fruity stuff Mic insists on making, I can handle whatever you decide.”
Midoriya gave a quick nod. He gathered a kettle and two mugs from a shelf, and rummaged through the tea drawer for some peppermint tea. After filling the kettle with water and putting it on the burner to heat up, he took a seat across from his teacher.
“I’ll ask again,” Aizawa said, “what’s bothering you, kid?”
Deku rubbed the back of his neck anxiously as his eyes darted to the ceiling.
“Uh...it-it’s—you know how I’m trans, right?”
Aizawa let out a wry chuckle, “As your teacher, I would hope I know so”
“Yeah, well about that, there’s this..thing. It’s called dysphoria, and well, it reminds me of how I’m not actually a man. Well, like I know I’m still a guy, but it’s just that my body doesn’t align with how I feel on the inside and it just–” Midoriya grabbed fists of his hair as he sunk his face to the table and let out a groan.
His teacher stood up and fetched the kettle from the stove before pouring water into the two cups and placing a tea bag inside each. He returned to his seat and placed one of the mugs beside Midoriya. Leaned back in his chair and took a sip of the drink. Pursed his lips and mulled over his thoughts.
“I won’t say I understand, because I don’t, but here’s what I will tell you: I know you’re a man. Considering you trust me, it’s rational to assume you know I’m not lying; since you trust me, you must also know enough about me to understand I’m trustworthy, and I know, Midoriya, that you care very much about those who you know. Am I wrong?”
Izuku shook his head.
“Good. Then you’ll believe me when I say that you are, in fact, a man?”
Izuku gave a slow nod. Aizawa let out a relieved sigh. This is good, they’re getting somewhere.
“I have something to loan you. However,” He gave an over-exaggerated stern glare to his student, “you must promise not to laugh. Deal?”
Curiosity hooked, Midoriya gave a swift bob of his head. Aizawa went to his room, and returned holding the most hideous sweater Izuku had ever seen. It was fuzzy and purple and oversized and had a cat face on its front. The boy had to stifle a laugh, and clasped his hand to his mouth.
“You said you wouldn’t laugh”
“I-I’m not laughing,” Izuku wheezed, “Trying hard not to, yes, but laughing? No.”
“Fair enough, problem child. You can have it for tonight to cover your chest. I also know the scent of someone I’m close to does wonders to calm me down. Maybe it will have the same effect on you?”
Midoriya took the sweater and slipped it on. It did, indeed smell of his teacher, and he could feel his shoulders relax and jaw unclench. He nodded, “Yeah...this does help. Thanks, Aizawa-sensei.”
The edge of his teacher’s lip twitched up into a barely-visible grin.
“Right. Off to bed, I’ll clean up the mugs. See you tomorrow, kid.” He gave a quick affectionate ruffle of Midoriya’s hair and shooed him up the stairs to the boy’s dorms.
Sure, Midnight and Hizashi would have a field day if they ever found out how much he cared for his kids students, but for now. None of that mattered. He was content.