Work Text:
1.
It was late at night when Kirishima woke up to a baby’s cry.
It was loud, as expected from their five months old little girl, whose lungs were getting stronger every day. The redhead mumbled something, touching around to search for the body of his husband.
Who was, with no surprise, nowhere to be found. Great, that was Bakugou’s night shift, Kirishima had completely forgotten.
Groaning, he sat up, rubbing his eyes. She probably needed a change of diapers, he concluded, standing up slowly and clumsily making his way to Hotaru’s dorm. He had just reached the corridor when her sobs diminished slowly. Confused and still half asleep, Eijirou proceeded, noticing the light of his daughter’s room on and flooding the corridor. He surely hadn’t left it on when she finally fell asleep earlier…
Quietly, he made his way to the door, stopping right by its side and peeking inside.
Bakugou was there, still wearing his hero costume. Their brunette little girl was all pink and soft as he held her high, nuzzling her belly tenderly. “So much better with a clean outfit, uh?” he asked with that baby voice that Kirishima knew he had been hiding for months.
His heart warmed with the scene. Bakugou placed her over his shoulder, humming while moving around, and their daughter’s big black eyes fell upon Eijirou, who raised a finger to his lips, pleading her to keep quiet. Unnecessarily, since her thick eyelashes went up and down soon after, too tired to pay attention to her papa.
Kirishima slowly backed down the corridor, yawning as he entered the darkness of his own room, giving daughter and father some privacy. He couldn’t help the smile that plastered his face as he laid down, though.
Bakugou was such a caring father. He would deny it until his death, but he really loved to be around Hotaru, and Eijirou loved every little bit of it.
2.
Kirishima was sorting through the correspondence, searching for the invitation to the hero premiere he had receive last week, when Bakugou appeared at the arch of the living room holding Hotaru in his arms. She and her curious black eyes searched throughout the kitchen, unstoppable, as the blonde raised his eyebrows.
“Whatccha doing?” he asked, eyeing all the paper scattered through their little dining table. Kirishima pouted.
“I was so sure I had left our invitations to the premiere at the office, but I couldn’t find it yesterday, so it must be here.”
“You mean the Tokyo premiere?” Bakugou asked, readjusting the girl in his arms. Her chubby cheek pressed on his collarbone as her eyes drifted around, seemingly unable to find a single thing that caught her interest. “I thought we already agreed we wouldn’t be attending that since Hotaru got a cold last week.”
“We did. I just wanted to give it to Kaminari. He wants to invite Jirou’s folks to attend it, because she was indicated to a prize,” Kirishima explained, groaning and laying his head over the table. “But I can’t find it anywhere.”
“Hm, I see,” Bakugou shrugged, turning around. Oh, that heartless husband of his wouldn’t even offer a hand, of course. “If you need us, we’ll be watching TV.”
Kirishima pouted again, pulling the letters back in a pile and restarting to inspect each.
In the end, the invitation was on his nightstand, but he only discovered this one hour later.
Sighing tiredly, he picked his cellphone and called Kaminari, walking back to the living room with the letter in his hands. When he reached it, though, he simply stopped paying attention to the ringing of his call as he absorbed the scene unfolding ahead.
The lights were off, but the television still illuminated part of the room. Bakugou was sitting on their black couch, Hotaru safely sat over his lap as his hands held her belly gently. Her eyes were closed and she was napping against him while Bakugou looked down, smiling at her sleeping form and playing with the hem of her shirt.
“You can sleep anywhere, can’t ya?” he asked her, the voice soft, whispered, a secret between them. “All day long. Daddy’s lap is comfy, right?”
Hotaru no more than pouted, the round cheeks puffing slightly.
“Kirishima, hello?” a voice called from his phone and he blinked, turning around and rummaging to the kitchen to have some privacy.
Later, when he got back to the living room, Bakugou was sleeping with his head falling backwards. That was endearing, he thought, restraining an amused squeak as he proceeded to take Hotaru from his arms to put her on her crib. It was dangerous to leave her with her sleeping papa, he could drop her any second now.
Turning around, Kirishima left for her cute blue room. In a discussion with Todoroki about how sexist it would be to paint their daughter’s room pink just because she was a girl, Bakugou ended up picking blue, while Todoroki and Midoriya’s son’s room was painted a light yellow hue. Blue did match Hotaru’s calm personality — she was an angel instead of a baby, he thought sometimes.
Today, for example, he carefully laid her on her crib and she quickly rolled to her side and hugged her blanket, not even batting an eyelash. Sighing, he went back to the living room to rescue his husband from a future stiff neck.
3.
Hotaru was a cheerful one year old, which meant that her vocabulary had increased from her previous months of babbling and screaming.
It also meant that, when she didn’t feel well, she had no shame in screaming for them to the top of her lungs.
“Papaaa,” she called, pressing her face to his shoulder as she cried out loud. She had a fever and wouldn’t eat anything, so Eijirou quickly decided to take her to the hospital before something worse happened. Bakugou was still working, so he left a message with Todoroki to tell him about it when he got back to the agency.
“Shh, I know it hurts,” Kirishima shushed her, caressing her dark bangs and rubbing his cheek to her head while checking the panel, waiting for their number to appear. “I’m with you, ‘taru, it will be over soon, I promise.”
Seemingly unsatisfied with his answer, she continued to cry loudly, fisting his shirt with her tiny hands. Kirishima’s heart was aching deeply — he wanted to protect her from everything, but there was not much he could do against diseases, so he had to be patient. Still, she was confused. Imagine, if he was worried, what would a one year old that couldn’t even discern a cold from death feel about it? She was scared, of course.
Apprehensive, Kirishima only took his eyes off the light panel when Bakugou burst through the glass doors of the emergency department, still fully dressed for his patrol.
“Eijirou, Hotaru!” he called loudly, the eyes darting around the waiting room in full speed, startling some of the other patients. Eijirou smiled sadly, feeling a little bit at ease with Bakugou’s presence and raising a hand in the air for him to notice them.
Katsuki stomped in their direction as soon as he did, covering the distance quickly while Eijirou nuzzled Hotaru’s hair. “Hey, princess, look who came to see you!”
“Papa,” Hotaru mumbled, distressed, refusing to get her head away from his shoulder. Kirishima half laughed, half sighed, caressing her hair again as she shook her head.
“What’s wrong with her?” Bakugou asked as soon as he reached them, and his widened eyes travelled between Kirishima and their daughter in frantic preoccupation. Kirishima gave him an apologetic smile.
“We haven’t seen a doctor yet, waiting our turn,” he explained, indicating the panel with his head. Bakugou turned around to look at it, then clicked his tongue, turning back and staring at her nape apprehensively.
“How is she feeling?”
“She has an insistent fever and refused to eat since breakfast,” Eijirou explained. “And she won’t let go of me, so I know something’s wrong. Don’t get me wrong, I love hugs,” he smiled sadly, conscious of the wet spot on his shirt where she was burying her face. “But I don’t want her to hurt.”
“I know,” Bakugou sighed. He knelt down in front of their seat, since the others were all occupied, and reached a hand for Hotaru’s back, petting her gently. “Hey, little girl, you’ll be fine in no time.”
Hotaru only grumbled against Kirishima’s shirt. Bakugou’s crimson irises reflected worry as he continued to rub her hoodie. “Just have to be strong as you always are, ‘kay? Papa knows you can do that.”
“Papa,” she whined again. Katsuki’s eyebrows were practically knitting together. In spite of his hard demeanor, he was a worrywart, and Eijirou found it endearing. Kirishima pondered about passing her over to him, but Bakugou looked like he had came from his patrol just like he finished it — all sweaty, with dust over the skin. Instead, he stayed sat as Katsuki caressed her back, whispering to her.
“You’ll kick the ass of that virus,” and other stupid, yet endearing remarks accompanied them throughout the check-up. The next morning, all news had a photo of the hero Ground Zero tending to his daughter in the hospital while Red Riot held her.
He collected one of them secretly while Bakugou screamed to whoever stopped to hear him that he wasn’t a fucking doting father.
4.
“Dulike,” Hotaru mumbled, crossing her arms over her pumpkin outfit. It was Halloween themed day at her school and the teachers asked the parents to send their two year olds wearing costumes.
Hotaru was a calm and giddy child, but if something got under her skin, there was no way she would go along with it. Eijirou had picked that costume from a store close to his agency only a pair of days ago — as you can see, a very attentive parent who prepares stuff in advance! —, but she would not wear it if she said she didn’t want to.
He had already learned it last time when he dressed her up to Kaminari’s wedding and, after taking his eyes off her for three minutes to search for the car keys, she got rid of the clothes as if the poor stuff had offended her personally. Sighing, Eijirou sat down at the couch. “What should you wear then?”
“Imma hero,” Hotaru answered, pouting.
Bakugou, who had been standing by the kitchen arch watching their exchanging, knelt down, talking to her.
“But papa got you a pumpkin outfit.”
“Imma hero,” Hotaru repeated, stressed, directing her aggressive pout to her blonde daddy instead.
Katsuki always had that explosive personality, but he proved as months passed that he could be patient with their child when needed. So, instead of making a bitter remark, he only raised his eyebrows in return. “And why do you want to dress like a hero?”
“Kick ass,” and that vocabulary made Kirishima both smile and get annoyed. Hotaru simulated a punch in the air to emphasize her wish.
“You know you can’t hit anyone in school, right?”
“Mori, Mori.” She simulated a bit with her mouth. “And I-I.” Then she punched the air again.
Katsuki frowned, looking up at Eijirou. “She hit a child in the school?”
“Not exactly,” the redhead shrugged. “He bit her, I could see the bite marks, she just pulled him away. Listen, ‘taru, you can’t go on hitting kids at school without any reason.”
Hotaru frowned. “But hero!”
“Papa already told you that…”
“Eijirou, Eijirou, no,” Katsuki interrupted, seeming thoughtful. “I don’t think she will understand now? Besides… I think I might have something to cover this.”
“What?” Kirishima smiled skeptically. “Where will you find a hero outfit that fits a two years old in the next half hour?”
“I’m sure I had something…” he mumbled, getting up and rummaging to their room. He emerged from the corridor five minutes later, plenty of time for Hotaru to get rid of her pumpkin onesy. Eijirou gasped a laugh when he recognized what he was holding. “I had it from last time merchandize. I think it might be a little too big, but…”
“Papa!” Hotaru shouted as she recognized the mini version of Bakugou’s costume. It didn’t have the accessories and gauntlets, instead consisting of a onesy with the imprint of his costume, but it was enough to catch her attention and be comfortable and not dangerous in any way. “That papa!”
“Yes, that’s papa,” Bakugou answered, kneeling down and handing the outfit over to her. Hotaru’s dark eyes sparkled in excitement as she figured out how to wear it, and in the end Bakugou helped her, smiling lovingly as he continued to answer her excited squeals. Kirishima smiled too, holding a couch pillow to his chest. These two just made him so happy!
A pair of days after, he noticed that Bakugou’s block screen on the cellphone was now a cute picture of Hotaru’s ground zero pose, but he decided not to say anything, holding the secret to himself.
5.
“Are you sure about this?” Kirishima asked Hotaru for the third time, as he finished taking out the training wheels of her blue bike. The four-year-old nodded excitedly.
“I’ll do it!” she told him, clapping her hands. “I’ll show Mori-kun!”
It was hot outside, beginning of summer, and Kirishima had been taking her to the park almost daily. Apparently, one of her school friends had been picking at her about her biking, which was unacceptable, since she was amazing at it, but Eijirou could understand — these were kids, after all.
“I’ll ride a bike without the training wheels!” she told him again, putting the bike up while Kirishima put the extra wheels inside his toolbox.
“You know you can just ignore him, right? Mori, I mean,” he suggested, watching as she proceeded to the door of their garage to ride it outside.
“I’ll put him on his place!” she informed him, smiling widely.
“Fucking god, you have quite the vocabulary there,” Katsuki said, peeking from the front garden.
“I’m surprised she doesn’t know something worse,” Kirishima mocked him, rolling his eyes as the blonde shrugged.
“It’s always useful to know offenses, you’d not like her to not understand when she’s being offended, right?”
“Very useful.”
Bakugou turned to Hotaru, who was pouting to her bike.
“Are you really gonna ride this?”
“Listen,” she started, looking up at him and moving one hand slowly. “I’ll ride it just fine, you should stop worrying! Sit there with papa, it will be fine, I promise.”
“Wow, that was quite advanced,” Katsuki mumbled. “She kinda sounds like you.”
Kirishima smiled, watching as she prepared herself to bike. “She’s been learning new words everyday, you should see what she watches on TV.”
“That’s impressive.”
“You two!” she called them, frowning. “You’re disturbing my concentration! Shut up!”
Kirishima stared at her in shock for some seconds.
“Okay, that was on me,” Katsuki whispered, laughing right after. “Watch your mouth, brat!”
“Keep quiet!”
She tested the pedals, pouting in concentration. Bakugou walked up to Kirishima, eyes glued to the child. “Do you think she can do it?”
“I don’t know,” he answered. “But the grass won’t let it hurt much if she falls.”
As he said it, Hotaru took off, rode the bike for about five seconds, then it fell to one side. “Maybe it was too early?”
She kept trying for a long time before giving up that day. Then, next weekend Katsuki went outside with her to try again while Kiri stayed inside, enjoying his free time to watch TV alone. It was rare for him to have some alone time nowadays, but it was good in some way — he was always surrounded by his loved ones, though they got on his nerves sometimes.
He was in the middle of the episode when he heard some screaming outside. Frowning, he leaned on the sofa, getting closer to the window and peeking outside.
Hotaru was doing circles around the grass with her bike, a big smile plastering her face. Behind her, Bakugou was watching it with a surprised laugh, beaming, the red eyes sparkling as if they were on fire. “Wow! You did it!”
“I did it!” she squealed, enthusiastic.
“You’re amazing!”
There was something there… Katsuki rarely complimented someone, even Kirishima, it wasn’t on his nature. The way he talked about Hotaru, though, was completely out of the usual: all proud, happy, enthusiastic. Yeah, she was amazing, really. She could pull such a reaction from him, after all.
“I’ll so rub it in Mori’s face on Monday!” Hotaru announced, the same proud way her father usually did.
Okay, maybe some things still required work.
+1.
They almost came late for Hotaru’s quadrilha presentation, but they made it just in time!
The school was throwing a festa junina again this year, but this was her first year presenting, since she was five now. Basically they would dance in couples, they were too young to learn some complicated choreography, so Kirishima wasn’t expecting much.
It really wasn’t much, but she was absolutely adorable with her braided hair, blushing make up and checkered dress. Her eyes would dart up to him and Bakugou every time she turned around with her couple, causing her to trip a little now and then, but she made it to the end of the dance just fine.
It was totally cute!
Eijirou, of course, captured everything with his phone, then he looked around to Bakugou smiling, but the blonde had a serious expression on his face.
“You okay, Katsuki?” he asked, cautious, putting the phone down as the kids left the small stage. Bakugou’s eyes kept on Hotaru’s retreating form as he mumbled:
“She’s simply amazing, isn’t she? I’m… I don’t know…” When she disappeared back, he looked over to Eijirou with swollen eyes. “I just feel like something really good happened and I didn’t even take notice of it.”
“You mean her growth?” Kiri suggested, leaning closer.
“No, not just that. It’s… She’s fucking perfect and she’s with us. And before she didn’t exist, but now she does, and I can’t really recall a time when she didn’t, because it’s…” He frowned, looking down. “It’s just right, you know.”
Oh, Kirishima knew what he meant. He knew this feeling, it was the same he had felt years ago when he met Bakugou, when they became friends, then lovers, and then, someday, he couldn’t imagine what life would be like without him. Screw rules or whatever, it was just right.
“Papa!” Hotaru shouted, throwing herself in Bakugou’s arms. He stumbled, taken aback, then went down to pick her up, hissing to her about being a brat and making him fall. Eijirou smiled as she reached for him, pulling him closer.
“That’s love,” he whispered, holding both her and the blond closer. Katsuki grumbled as Hotaru laughed, and clearly both hadn’t heard him, but that was okay, because they knew this feeling as well, surely.
That’s what it was, building itself into you until it fills you completely. What can you do? Maybe explode. Maybe let it out and pour it over others. Katsuki was the explosive guy after all, maybe he’d let it pop all the time. That would make sense.
“Why don’t we go check the candy stalls?” he suggested, getting away from them and turning around to the stalls. As they walked, Katsuki put Hotaru down.
“How did I do, papa?” she asked, holding his hand. The blonde looked down to her, frowning.
“You did awesome, of course. Who are the other brats compared to you?”
“I heard Maika-chan takes ballet classes, she must dance well.”
Bakugou gasped for a second, then answered: “Who needs ballet, you’re a hero, right? You’re fucking incredible!”
Kirishima laughed. “Stop teaching her to be mean.”
“I’m not teaching her to be mean, I’m teaching her to recognize her perks,” Katsuki corrected him with a glare. “Or are you saying she isn’t fucking incredible?”
“No, of course she is,” Kiri agreed, looking down at Hotaru. “You’re awesome, really.”
She smiled, “Thanks, dad. You’re awesome too.”
Eijirou smiled again, feeling warm inside. Goodness, he loved them too much. “Thank you, little heroine.”