Work Text:
1: Curry
Izuku leaves his post by the apartment window where he’s staring out into the growing snow piles, and makes his way to the kitchen, where he can smell the beginning of curry seasoning warming.
Worry starts to fill him, though, as he looks in to see Katsuki standing at the counter chopping away at the vegetables needed for the meal.
Well, he’s standing on a stool, at least.
“Kacchan,” the rhythmic thunk of knife on cutting board stops. The greenette shifts uncomfortably from the entrance into the kitchen when crimson eyes slowly drift over to glare at him. But, undeterred and motivated by the sight of his little brother on a fucking stool, Izuku steps once into the kitchen, “I can help prep for dinner if you want me to…”
The knife makes a resounding clunk as the red-eyed blonde sets it down, turning fully to face his brother from his place still on that fucking stool to sign >No. I know what I’m doing<
Biting his lip, Izuku takes another step forward, “I know you do, I don’t doubt that…” he eye’s the glowing burners and the sharp implements, nerves setting his teeth on edge as he side-eyes his little brother, “You sure you don’t want help?”
>Yes< Izuku’s shoulders slump at the immediate reply, and Katsuki huffs as he rolls his eyes with far too much sass a 4 foot 6 eight year old should have. >I’m sure I don’t need your S-H-I-T chopping in my food<
“Language, Kacchan.” Izuku winces at the glare he receives at that, and looks back at the slowly boiling water. There are still some vegetables to chop, still the sauce to mix, not to mention the rice still needs washing. Biting his lip, seeing Katsuki had turned back to his task, he steps forward one last time, hesitantly reaching for their spare cutting board, “And you’re positive—”
Izuku breaks off into a yelp as a flash of steel imbeds itself into the counter an inch from his reaching hand.
After that, Izuku stopped insisting he help the blonde with cooking.
He had no interest in losing a finger.
Again…
___
2: Gyoza
It’s an off day for the Midori family, the snow is falling so heavy outside the city called a shut down and ordered everyone to remain home. So, now, everyone sits in the living room, waiting for the last of their clan to return from locking up their newly acquired café. Touya sits by the window to help keep his temperature regular, all while keeping an eye on the fire, on the streets below for his returning family, and the two boy’s sitting under the old, ratty kotatsu set in the living room.
There’s a large, fairly new bamboo steamer basket set in the center of the table, a steel bowl of mixed tofu, cabbage, and green onions set beside it along with a plate of flour wrappers Katsuki had made a week before when he was preparing dough for bread they’d delivered to the food bank a few blocks down the street.
Currently, Hitoshi is working on a dumpling alongside Katsuki, tongue tip between teeth as he carefully takes each wrapper in hand, spooning the filling gently on top, then furrowing his brows in concentration as he wets’ his fingers in a nearby bowl of lukewarm water and pinches the wrapping edges together.
He blinks as he finishes the last pinch, looking down at his first completed, albeit a bit lumpy, dumpling. It wasn’t even torn! Not even a little bit!
Eyes wide and shining, he turns to where Katsuki sits beside him, his own pile of pristine gyoza piled up on a plate in prep for the basket, and holds the dumpling up for appraisal.
Pausing in his own work, showing a considerable amount of restraint, he looks at the doughy lump in the purplette’s hands and nods.
At least it wasn’t mangled like the rest.
Putting his own finished dumpling down, he signs out a short, >Correct< then, telegraphing his movements, reaches forward slowly, and lightly pats Hitoshi on the head. The younger boy curls up a bit at the contact, eyes screwing shut, but then he’s pushing up into the broad palm with a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks.
The image of a kitten rises uninvited into the other two’s minds, making Touya turn away to hide his giggles at Katsuki’s helpless face.
After a few more slow pats, Katsuki pulls his hand back, prompting Hitoshi’s eyes to pop open in time to see him sign out >Good job< before he takes the gyoza from the purplette’s hands and adds it to the slowly growing pile.
Gold eyes growing impossibly larger, Hitoshi looks at his first official success sitting amongst Katsuki’s pile, pride growing in his chest even as he ignores the comparison.
Katsuki had said ‘good job’.
To him.
Bouncing lightly in place, the purplette grabs another wrapper and starts spooning filling into the center, tongue darting out again between his teeth as he concentrates.
Katsuki holds back a snort at the sight, focusing back on his own work as the sound of keys in the lock rattling through the apartment.
Touya hums as he sets aside his puzzle book, turquoise eyes bright as Shoto steps around the corner, nose slightly red from the cold and hair mussed from the wind and snow.
Immediately, grey and blue eyes lock on the scene in the living room, and his steps falter a second. Then, seeing Katsuki isn’t wearing his hearing aids, he lightly scuffs his wool socked foot against the edge of the kotatsu for attention.
Once red eyes lock on mismatched, Shoto tilts his head and signs stiltedly, >Why S-H-I help, no me?<
This time, Katsuki does scoff, and then jerks his head to the plate of wrappers set between him and Hitoshi, >You ruin the wrappers< At Shoto’s blank look, the blonde rolls his eyes and explains, >They either dry out or go stiff when you handle them. At least he has a regular core temperature<
The signs take a moment to process, but once they do, the confusion clears from his expression, and he steps up to the opposite side of the table. >O-K<
Katsuki glares at the, currently, brunette and blonde boy at his easy acceptance, before going back to his own work. It’s barely 15 seconds later, though, when Izuku rounds the corner and spots the layout between the three boys. “Oh? We’re having gyoza this time?”
And Hitoshi jumps.
Katsuki stops, eyes drifting over to check on the purplette, noting the wan color of his skin and the blown pupils, before turning to glare at Izuku accusingly.
For his credit, Izuku just blinks in surprise once, before sheepishly raising his hands to start signing.
>Sorry, didn’t realize we’re N-V today< he smiles warmly when gold eyes, still a bit glazed, track up to look at him. He signs slowly, shoulders loose, as he steps fully into the living room. >Hello, ~heart~<
And that, the horrible but obvious attempt at a sign name, seems to snap Hitoshi out of his rising disassociation. He blinks, gaze drifting a bit higher than the collar of Izuku’s sweater as he signs hesitantly back, >~Heart~?<
Izuku hums, sitting down on seiza beside Shoto, tilting his head a bit in thought, >S-H-I-N means H-E-A-R-T so ~heart~< Katsuki scoffs as he finishes the seam of another gyoza, Shoto laying his head on his crossed arms as Izuku sends them imploring looks. But without their support, he seems to droop and smile wanly at Hitoshi, who still looks at him with wide eyes, >No good?<
Biting his lip, fiddling with a bit of cabbage for a second, he signs back hesitantly, gaze locked on the table, >I don’t know<
It’s quiet a beat, then Izuku lightly raps his knuckles on the table top, bringing Hitoshi’s attention back up to his hands, >That’s O-K< he grins wider as he waves loosely around the low lit space, >We can think of another one<
At this, Shoto raises his head, where he’d been watching the conversation from where he’d rested on his arms, and signs a steady >Yes< he looks Hitoshi in the eye as he gestures between himself and Katsuki >We find name T-O-G-E-T-H-E-R<
Izuku flaps a hand minutely in front of him, signing a single >Together< once he has the boys attention. Shoto’s eyes zero in on the new sign, fingers clumsy as he attempts to copy the movement that the two start repeating to each other.
Hitoshi watches them with wide, gleaming, hopeful gold eyes.
Seeing that the other two had drifted into their own space, those eyes turned to where Katsuki had stopped his work to watch the purplette’s reaction.
After all… it was only the first month the boy has been in a somewhat stable home.
It’s only natural for him to be… confused about some things.
After a moment of staring at each other, where Katsuki feels pride well up that Hitoshi feels comfortable enough to look him in the eye, the younger boy holds up slightly trembling hands.
>Together?<
And Katsuki nods, without missing a beat, knowing without a doubt that from now on, they’d be together in this.
Now and forever.
Because Hitoshi was a Midori now.
And Midori’s stuck together.
A faint blush rising to his cheeks, Hitoshi turns back to his unfinished gyoza, and starts wrapping again. After making sure he had no more help, at the moment, Katsuki turned back to his own work, settling into the light, gentle warmth of his home as the world rages outside.
___
3: Omurice
Its 15 minutes until they need to leave for the last day of winter term classes when Hitoshi finally drags himself out of the bedroom. He’s still wearing his thick fleece lined leggings and the blue sweater that he practically swims in, his hair pressed to the right from sleep and eyes still crusted shut as he shuffles toward the dining table.
He yawns widely, jaws cracking slightly, scars paling as his cheeks stretch.
And he promptly chokes on a spoonful of rice and egg that’s shoved into his mouth.
Instinctively clamping his mouth shut, locking the spoon between his teeth, Hitoshi sputters to wakefulness as he struggles to breathe and chew at the same time as he glares at Katsuki.
The blonde stands slightly to the left in front of him, holding a steaming plate of omurice in his left hand while his right is still raised to take the spoon back, face blank.
Still choking, unable to verbalize so early in the morning anyways, Hitoshi makes damned sure his tone is conveyed with his sharp signing.
>WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?<
At that, Katsuki smirks and holds the plate out towards him with a slurred, “Brikfas’.”
Hitoshi blinked, taking the plate hesitantly. Once his breakfast is secure, Katsuki nods and turns to disappear back into the kitchen. That’s when he see’s the blondes empty ears, and turns to where Izuku and Touya sit at the table, “What…?”
Izuku shrugged, waving a hand dismissively, “Kacchan rolled in his sleep and cracked the case on his aids.” He sighs and moves a bit of his own breakfast around the plate, “I’m going back to the hospital to try and order him new ones, but…”
“Until then,” Touya jerks his head to the kitchen, “he’ll most likely be a bit muffled.”
Hitoshi hums, finally moving forward to sit at the table to finish his food. Honestly, he didn’t mind Katsuki without his hearing aids. He only slurred a little bit, as the boy memorized the vibrations of his voice when speaking, but he was somehow quieter when his aids’ were out. It was unusual, but not unwelcome, and if anything, Hitoshi was just glad he had someone to talk to easily.
The blonde steps out of the kitchen just as Hitoshi is stacking the trio’s empty plates, in his hands are wrapped bento boxes that he sets in front of the adults with a variety of signed thanks in return. Once his hands are free, he then turns to take the plates, but Hitoshi waves him off.
>I’ll help<
Katsuki bristled a bit at that, lip twitching as he signed, >I’m deaf, not useless<
But Hitoshi just smirks, signing one handed as he heads to the kitchen with the plates, >I know<
And if his smirk widens when Katsuki growls behind him, well, no one needs to know.
He’s finished washing dishes with Katsuki, set the plates on the drying rack and returned to the living room to get his things together, when Shoto walks out of the bathroom. His hair is blueberry and violet today, and he only takes a glance at Katsuki’s bare ears before heaving a dead toned sigh.
“Oh good, now I can sing on the way to school and not get punched.”
Hitoshi blinks, brain filling with static as he wonders what the fuck before Katsuki growls and signs out, >You know I can read lips, right?<
But Shoto just sends him a look, before trotting into their shared bedroom to change, Katsuki hissing and marching after him shortly after.
Hitoshi doesn’t hide his grin this time as the apartment fills with giggling and muffled screeches.
___
4: Ramen/Soba
*sluuuuurp*
Everyone stops for a moment, eyes raising to look across the dining table at the offending redhead.
The man freezes only briefly, soba noodles hanging from his lips, before he continues eating with a long, pointed *sluuurp*
The greenette across from him huffs a laugh, going back to his own bowl of ramen, albeit quieter than the redhead, and the other boys follow suit.
Though, the red and white haired boy is staring at the redhead as if he just invented sound.
The blonde beside him snarls a warning but the boy is undeterred as he brings a line of soba noodes to his lips and
*sluuuuuuuuuuurp*
The redhead snorts, ducking down as his shoulders shiver in quiet laughter as the blonde hisses while glaring at the two with disgust. The greenette just sighs, fond little smile on his lips as he searches the warm brown broth for any more vegetables or strips of tofu as the blonde beside him rages at the two to take his cooking seriously you god forsaken heathens...
Then there’s a cleared throat on the other side of the table, and all eyes turn to the purplette sitting quietly over his bowl of ramen.
And with the most smug glint in his butterscotch eyes…
*SLUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURP*
And all the greenette can do is bask in the ensuing chaos, and send a prayer of thanks to the Christmas spirit for the gift of his rowdy family.
___
5: Custard
Izuku looked down at Shoto and Hitoshi, broom in hand and a look of utter befuddlement on his face.
“What are you two doing?”
Neither moved from their post on the floor, cross legged, staring at the oven window like it held the secrets of the universe. They were all currently in their new café, cleaning and prepping for their winter customers that always flooded in, if even just for a break from the cold. Touya was in the cashier booth, separated from the kitchen by a half wall, counting the money in the register and tallying quota. Izuku had been cleaning the main floor with Himiko, when he’d needed to get a spare bag for the dirt and trash missed last night.
To find… this…
“Waiting.” Hitoshi’s voice was neutral, like his face, and it made Izuku shift uncomfortably on his feet.
“For?”
“The timer to go off.” Shoto’s hair was colored orange and brown today, in reference to the last autumn month, but Izuku had seen him getting the green out earlier that morning in preparation for Christmas. But still, his tone, like Hitoshi’s, was lacking, and Izuku gripped the broom a bit tighter.
“Why?”
“Because heaven.” A shiver ran down his back as they both intoned those words in sync. Kami, of all the horror movies they had to sound like, why Shining? (because it’s a Christmas movie and you can’t change my mind about it)
Instead of running, though, Izuku took a deep breath, processed their words, and let it all out in a simple “… what?”
The pantry door opens then, revealing Katsuki laden with jars of jams and honey that he takes to the center island, glaring at his brothers with exasperation, “The dumbasses are waiting for the cream pan to finish.” Izuku blinks, then leans down a bit to look through the oven window to see… ah yes, fluffy custard filled rolls barely on the rise. Why are his children like this? Katsuki, seeming to be on the same though process, clicks his tongue and barks out “Oi, idiots” getting the two to turn just enough to side eye him. The blonde huffs, crossing his arms as he narrows his eyes, “Let them bake in peace, fuckin’ impatient children.”
“But Suki…” Hitoshi’s voice is still so flat…
“If we don’t watch them…” Shoto too???
“Then the Pastry Monster will eat them.”
Izuku feels his soul leave his body, confusion and discomfort warring inside his chest as he tries to just understand, but…
“………… Who???”
“You two are absolutely right.” Izuku jumps, having forgotten Touya had access to listen in on that entire conversation. Without looking up from his log book, reading glasses perched on his nose, he speaks so steadily Izuku’s Bullshit-o-meterTM starts ticking, “My tongue is numb to scalding hot foods, so I will consume the entire pan right out the oven if they don’t stand guard.”
Both boy’s on the floor stare at him with eyes the size of dinner plates, and Izuku can’t help the slightly hysterical giggle that comes from him.
Katsuki, ever the pragmatic one, heaves a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Fuck. I’m surrounded by idiots.”
Well, can’t argue with that one.
___
6: Katsudon
When Izuku returns home from his last shift of the year, it’s to the echoing bang bang bang of a familiar pattern in the kitchen.
Immediately, he perks up, kicking his shoes off and trotting further into the apartment, grin growing, “Oh, Kacchan’s making katsudon!” but he stutters to a stop, seeing his family huddled together behind an upturned table, looking like they were preparing for an attack. He blinks, looking between the cowering group and the light coming from the kitchen doorway. The others look at him just as surprised, and he can’t help the baffled “What?”
Hitoshi’s voice is shrill even as he whispers “That’s what he’s doing?”
Blinking, he tilts his head slightly with a hesitant “… Yes?” before frowning slightly, “Why?”
Shoto pops his head over the back of the couch, a blanket over his head like a shawl and eyes wary as he looks at the kitchen doorway, “He came home from club looking murderous.”
Hitoshi nods sagely, face set so seriously, “Then he started beating the shit out of a pork chop.”
And Izuku just can’t
“Don’t laugh at us!”
Their combined bemoaning voices only spurs Izuku further into his laughing fit.
Until someone throws a slipper at him.
“Sorry sorry, I can’t help it.” he struggles to catch his breath, emphasis on struggle, before spotting a mass of shaggy red hair also hiding behind the upturned table, “You too Dabs?”
Distressed turquoise eyes peek over a pine table edge, and the redheads muffled voice whines through, “What. It’s terrifying.”
That earns another snicker from the greenette, eyebrow quirking, “But he’s made katsudon before…?”
“Never while looking at the meat like it personally offended him.”
“Zuzu?” there are three yelps, and the heads duck back down behind various furniture surfaces as Izuku turns toward the blonde head peeking from the kitchen. Katsuki’s red eyes dart briefly to where the others are hiding before focusing back on Izuku with a frown, “Good, you’re home. Come help with the rice?”
Izuku perks up, excited because Katsuki is asking for help in the kitchen, and bounces to join him with a chipper “Sure!”
If he’d bothered to look back, he’d have seen the horrified looks on his families faces, and caught the muttered oh no, we’re doomed that came from them.
Oh well, it’s Christmas.
___
Extra:
Beta: :)
Skyler: XD
All the blonde can do is stare at the wreckage before him.
He was gone for an hour how did they even…
He turns slowly to look at Hitoshi and Shoto, the former standing with his head hung low while the other stares vacantly into the distance.
“How…” Katsuki lifts a hand to point accusingly at the mess, “… the fuck—”
“I have no idea!” Hitoshi looks up quickly, voice cracking frantically as his eyes glisten a bit, “I was just doing what you showed me last time and—”
“Fire.” Red eyes snap to Shoto, who’s voice is as dead as his gaze, “Fire happened.”
Katsuki can feel a twitch develop in his eye as he looks back at the scene in his kitchen. He’s trying to piece together what the fuck happened, but is coming up completely blank. Finally, he turns back to Hitoshi, taking a deep breath to try and calm down as he grits out “What were you making?”
The other two exchange glances, Hitoshi’s watery against Shoto’s slightly glazed. The purplette takes a deep, shaky breath as he turns his gaze back down to the floor as he whispered, “Pasta?”
“………… How…?”
“The flames were so high.” Shoto closed his eyes, as if having a war flashback, “I didn’t know water could even burn like that.”
“THAT’S BECAUSE IT CAN’T!!!”
Needless to say, the other two were banned from the kitchen for 7 months afterwards, and no one was allowed unsupervised by Katsuki in the kitchen ever again.