Chapter Text
It's a perfectly normal night. Not particularly easy nor particularly hard, not noticeably hot or noticeably cold. He hasn't had an untraceable bad feeling, or even the vague sensation that something important was about to happen.
No, Aizawa Shouta is having a perfectly average patrol when his phone rings. He looks around carefully as he comes to a stop, pulling out his phone and already mentally berating Hizashi for calling him on patrol, when he pauses at the caller ID.
At the Unknown caller ID.
Then, and only then, does unease start to creep in, and proceed to not stop for the rest of the night. He shoots another wary glance around before answering and putting the phone to his ear.
"Who is this?" He asks immediately, and then waits impatiently as seconds tick by without a response besides shallow breathing. Then quietly, ever so quietly, he hears a cheerful, plastic, familiar voice in the background. "Who. Is This," He tries again, grip tightening on the phone, "And what are you doing with my student?"
That finally seemed to provoke a reaction from his caller, and they gave a grunt- surprised? Amused? Annoyed? Whatever. There's another pause, long enough for him to open his mouth with another aggressive prompt, but the caller beat him to it.
"Jesus Christ." A voice said, almost familiar but not quite. Somehow there is something just wrong enough with the nearly-muted baritone that Shouta can't quite place it. "Oi, dumbass, quieter with that shit." They said, presumably talking to the problem child who's faux-upbeat voice fades until Shouta can barely hear it anymore. He opens his mouth, and is cut off again. "Ok. Sensei. Don't fucking freak out." The voice finally spoke to him, and Shouta's eyes widened as he finally placed it.
"Bakugo?" He asks, not entirely believing even though it's the logical assumption. The voice sounds....not quite defeated, but subdued in a way that he's never heard before.
"Fukin- no shit, sensei. Deku and- Tell her to say that to my fucking face- Deku and I kinda. Um. Need a place to stay for the- shit." The call abruptly cut off, and Shouta's heart leaped into his throat with a hiss of "Bakugo." He looked around again, less trying to spot threats and more hoping that by some miracle he was close enough to his problem children to get a visual.
He isn't, of course, but he suddenly can't just stay in one place, so he starts walking again, keeping a keen eye out for the brats even if he knew, full well, that they weren't dumb enough to not be hidden, all the way out in the slums he was patrolling.
His phone rang again, and he answered without even thinking, hands almost shaking with how tightly they held the phone. Distantly, he worried it might damage the device.
"-Need a place to stay. Just for the night." Bakugo picked back up immediately, nary an apology or explanation to be found in his slightly breathless and annoyed- but still unnervingly quiet- voice.
"Bakugo. What is happening?" He demands hotly. Bakugo drags a breath in through his teeth.
"Fuck, sensei, a lot is happening, and-" He faintly heard a distressed noise from Midoriya, followed by what seemed to be a breif scuffle for the phone. "Tch- Fuck off shitnerd I got it- and I can't say half of it without freaking fucking Deku out. Just- Jesus Christ are you crying? Laying it on pretty damn thick, you're gonna make her suspicious. Oh, go fucking die. Tell her I said that too. Oh, 'self preservation of a lemming' huh, that's fucking rich coming from you-" Bakugo hissed to Midoriya, still just as quiet (if not, somehow, quieter) but progressively more aggressive. Shouta often found himself exasperated by their bickering, but right now it was downright infuriating.
"Bakugo."
"-Tch! Just. Can you fucking help us or not." Bakugo almost growled as his attention returned to Shouta.
There's a dozen things he should say to that, and hundred more that he wants to say to that. Mostly questions, because the blonde was doing nothing but raise them, but he caught himself at the last minute.
Right now wasn't the time to get them to spill their guts- though that time would come- it was the time to get them to safety. Because, from the sound of it, they weren't currently safe, and that's really all that matters right then.
There's a dozen things he should say, most of them reassurances. It's almost too easy to pick one.
"Where are you." He hisses, not technically a direct answer to the boy's question. Said boy obviously notices, giving an annoyed scoff, but doesn't bother to call him on it.
"Yeah. Yeah, sure, fuck, okay. Deku, where the fuck are we?" Bakugo asked, not actually sounding the least bit lost. There's another infuriating moment indecipherable bickering before he gets an answer.
"Uh- something about....keeping your patrol close?" Bakugo huffs. "Oi stop that. He needs an address, not an speech, just like you need to not keep the fucking hag on mute. We don't have time for her to throw a fit." He scolds his classmate, almost barely audible as he leaned away from the phone before heaving a semi-satisfied sigh and leaning back in. "Deku says we'll meet you at 377-1114, by Tokinaga, Noto-cho Hosu-gun, and Ishikawa, in like...seven minutes. Says it should be around where you patrol about now anyway." Bakugo finally relays.
Shouta almost stutters in his step, again only barely reigning in the urge to question the kid. "If you aren't there, I'm calling the police. And your parents." He warned.
A strangled half-laugh wretches itself from Bakugo's throat, and he hangs up without another word. Shouta chooses to take that as an acceptance, because he can't afford the stress of taking it as anything else.
He takes a breath, and makes his way to given address.
On the way he tries to call Hizashi, because, emergency or not, he should probably still run this by his husband. The man's phone rings out, though, so he shrugs and does the next best thing.
"Moshi moshi." Hitoshi yawns on the first ring, somewhere between curious and vaguely-worried.
"Go wake Hizashi and put him on the phone." He says in lieu of a greeting. Hitoshi doesn't even pause at the complete skipping of pleasantries, humming an affirmative. "Get Eri to bed, if she isn't already. Don't worry, there isn't any danger." He says shortly, finishing just in time for Hitoshi's noticeably-more-anxious voice to hum again and hand him over to his newly awoken husband.
"Shou?" The blonde asks, as Shouta turns a corner and sees the place he's looking for. He doesn't see his students, but that doesn't mean much. they could be- and probably were- hiding.
"Bakugo and Midoriya just called. Said they needed a place to stay the night. I was gonna-"
"Are they okay?!" His husband screeches, and Shouta curls and uncurls his empty fist a few times.
"I don't know. They didn't mention injury, and Bakugo was generally resistant to talking about it."
"And Midoriya?"
"Was violently resistant, from what I could tell." He huffed, recalling the moment in the conversation where it sounded like Bakugo was fending off Midoriya. "I was gonna let them stay. Not sure what else we could do."
"Totally! Go ahead, Shou! Keep your kids safe, you natural mother hen!" The blonde enthused, still somewhat groggy, and Shouta let go of a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"Shut up. I'm about 15 minutes from the house. Be safe and call it twenty." He said, sentences short and clipped as his eyes zeroed in on a tuft of dark green hair.
"See you in twenty then." He could hear his husband smile, and, under his capture weapon, he returned in kind.
"Yeah. See you in twenty." He agreed, and hung up as he approached the half-hidden problem children.
As soon as he got close enough to be seen, he was double teamed by both of his students. Midoriya aimed low, running up faster then the blonde and aiming to kick out Shouta's feet, while said blonde followed barely a foot behind him and aimed for the face.
Shouta was far, far more practiced then the two of them put together and doubled, though, and he was on edge to boot. His kids never stood a chance, and were on the floor in a matter of minutes.
"Sensei!" Midoriya greeted, cheerful but still quiet voice muffled almost entirely by the capture weapon, puffy red eyes looking around with rampant paranoia that didn't match his tone in the slightest.
"Bout fuckin' time." Bakugo- and it certainly was Bakugo, even with the still weirdly-subdued voice- grumbled, tugging at the capture weapon to no avail. Midoriya gave a faux feather-light laugh at that.
"You gonna explain that? Or any of this?" He challenged. Bakugo glared, but Midoriya gave a shy smile, eyes settling on him for a split second before they started flitting around sporadically again.
"Oh! Well, um. You can never be too cautious, right? You could've had a body-snatching or shapeshifting quirk, or something. We had to make sure you weren't...." He said, getting quieter as he went on, until he either stopped talking or the scarf actually muffled him. Either way, Bakugo picked up before Shouta could ask again.
"It's not like we could accidentally kill you. That shit would take prep time, at the goddamn least." Bakugo harrumphs, which was. Fair, and admittedly smart, but in an annoying way.
Still, he concedes the point with a nod. "And everything else?" He presses, staring down at Midoriya. The boy usually seemed endlessly fueled by words, but right now he was dead silent. Aizawa unwrapped his face, just in case, but Midoriya's mouth was still, in direct contrast to his frantic gaze.
"Fuckin. Tell him what's wrong with you, bastard." Bakugo prompted, dare he say helpfully, and Midoriya's eyes paused for another split second to glare at the blonde.
"Oh? What's wrong with me? What about-"
"You're the fucking one who called Tsubasa Protocols, Deku. Yes, what the fuck is wrong with you." The blonde seethed, shamelessly cutting Midoriya off, without so much as a guilty or apologetic look at Shouta, and they both fell back into silence.
Shouta waited, as patiently as he could, but neither of them spoke up again, instead glaring at each other.
"Midoriya." He said, firmly, and the greenette looked back up at him for a long moment, before his body seemed to....lock up. He tensed as much as he could, mouth curling into something surprisingly close to a sneer. Shouta was extremely concerned, but before he had the chance to press the point Bakugo clicked his tongue, and Midoriya did the exact opposite.
He went limp, almost seeming to give up, for lack of a better word. His eyes closed as he took a few slow and deep breathes in and out. He opened his eyes to look at Aizawa, and the manic energy he'd been exhibiting was suddenly dulled by a deep tiredness. His eyes stopped darting around, and Bakugo tensed up in turn but didn't comment as Midoriya opened his mouth.
"Sorry sensei, I..I can't." He said shaking his head a little and averting his eyes. "It's not part of the plan."
"FUCK your shitty ass plan-" Bakugo immediately started back up. He winced at his own initial spike in volume, glancing around cautiously and bringing his string of expletives back to the quiet tone he's been holding.
"What plan?" He asked curtly, cutting off Bakugo, and Midoriya just shook his head again. This was going no where. He curled and uncurled his fists around his capture weapon a few times, before flicking his wrists around and freeing his students completely. "This conversation isn't over." He says firmly, and Midoriya keeps looking at the floor.
"Yeah yeah, whatever you say." Bakugo nods, roughly pulling Midoriya to his feet when the blonde decides he's taking too long to stand. Midoriya stumbles as he stands, stepping on Bakugo's foot as he did so, and Aizawa honestly couldn't tell if it was an accident or not.
Either way, they stand shoulder to shoulder, blatantly watching each other's backs and moving in-sync, carrying an air that spoke to years of familiarity that he has, somehow, never seen before after a semester of close quarters hero training. They stick close to Shouta, but still just out of arms reach, watching him almost as wearily as they watch the streets around them, skittish at every movement and sound.
Whatever surprise Shouta feels at seeing the two all-but-cling to each other, he buries it with the voice that couldn't help but notice that neither Midoriya nor Bakugo live anywhere near here.
"Are either of you injured?" He asks. Everything else could wait, if it must, but this couldn't, and it was too dark for him to be able to tell himself.
Neither kid answered him, and after a moment they squinted at each other warily.
"Limp." Bakugo tattled first, kicking at Midoriya as if to prove a point and snickering at his lame dodge.
"Sprained wrists." Midoriya bit back immediately, shrugging. Bakugo opened his mouth to continue, and grit his teeth when Midoriya swung his elbow into the blonde to cut him off. "Nothing important, Sensei."
Shouta frowned, looking away from the mock-innocent Midoriya who still refused to look directly at him and to the increasingly-frustrated Bakugo.
The taller teen was glaring holes into Midoirya's head, before almost hesitantly meeting Shouta's stare. Still, he scowled a little harder and shook his head instead of trying to correct Midoriya, so he reluctantly left them alone about it. For now.
"Okay. Follow me, then." He ordered, and walked away without looking back.
He didn't really need to, after all, when they start aggressively muttering to each other. Probably carrying out the off-and-on argument Shouta's been catching bits and pieces of since he picked up the phone. They're just barely too hushed and fast for him to understand, but at least it's a constant indicator to exactly where the two are as he leads them to his house.
Their muttering didn't pause until Aizawa came to a stop outside of his house, knocking on the door.
"Hah? You don't have a key to your own damn house?" Bakugo grumbled after only a moment of silence, borderline suspicious. Shouta looked at them over his shoulder. The two still looked skittish, but at least Midoriya was making eye contact again.
"I don't patrol with one, no." He shrugs, and they fall silent again with a halfhearted hum of understanding. After the constant noise up until this point, even Shouta feels like the silence is a little awkward.
The door banged open only seconds later.
"Shouta! Do you have-" His husband started, before he zeroed in on the kids behind him. "Are-"
"You're gonna wake the damn neighborhood." Shouta grumbled, quirk flashing on to cut Hizashi off. The man closed his mouth and nodded, looking somewhat sheepish, but still focusing on the problem children.
The problem children who were looking pretty spooked, now, stance shifted backwards ever so slightly. Shouta huffed, and ushered them all inside before the pair could think to make a run for it.
He closes the door, and all of them stand awkwardly for a minute, each afraid of stepping on the toes to one degree or another. The silence is broken, maybe predictably, by a snort from Bakugo.
"Hah. Guess I owe Pinky 4,000 yen." He claims, glaring a little at the couple before rounding on his heel to face Midoriya. "Hey, shitty Deku, give my 5,000 yen."
"Mmm. I dunno Kacchan, I already owe Uraraka-chan 10,000 yen. I'm not sure I carry enough around to fund both of our gambling addictions." The kid shrugged, nodding at Hitoshi's backpack on a hook in the front-door closet, and Bakugo scowled.
"Fucking how?" The blonde scowled indignantly, looming forward, and Midoriya waved a defensive hand.
"She's a little short on rent this month, and it's not like she'd let me just give it to her. Besides, if I won every bet they wouldn't let me in on the pools anymore." The shorter shrugs, ducking to hide his slightly red face.
Bakugo opens his mouth to say something else, but Shouta clears his throat before they can incriminate themselves further.
The boys stiffen and turn to him with wide eyes, before quickly muttering apologies- or at least Midoriya does, Bakugo just shrugs because he doesn't seem familiar with the mechanics of properly apologizing- and settling back into their weirdly intimate-but-tense stance again.
Hizashi takes the opportunity to pick back up on his fussing. Or tries to, at least, but the kids still weren't letting them get quite close enough to touch. After a few attempts, Hizashi changed tactics.
"Are you hungry, little listeners?" He asked, wandering into the kitchen. The kids didn't even take off their shoes as they followed, and Shouta took a deep breath and melted into his favorite chair just as they walked out of sight.
Damn problem children.