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1. Heads Up!
The only warning Eraserhead has is a slight whistle in the air, and it’s enough for him to catch the projectile aimed at his head.
It’s a………… pocket thermos?
“Merry Christmas, Eraser!”
And the hero can only watch as Jumpsuit vanishes back into the night over the rooftops.
……………
At least the coffee had honey in it.
___
2. Gratitude
Eraserhead is near blind with exhaustion by the time he makes it to his usual 2am haunt. The cashier behind the 23 hour café counter looked at him sympathetically as he came to a halt.
“Black coffee, triple shot espresso with—”
“A teaspoon of honey and cinnamon?”
Well, now he was awake.
“How—”
“Blue Jumpsuit came by and paid for one, said something about not being around to throw you a thermos tonight…?”
Eraserhead blinks, accepting the proffered to-go cup hesitantly, eyeing the cashier with suspicion.
But she just smiled tiredly, no hint of lie or subterfuge in her face or body language.
“Anything else they say?”
She tilted her head a bit, looking up and putting a finger on her chin in thought.
“Something about, and I think this is what he said, “giving that old grumpy cat a holly jolly holiday”…?”
And even though Eraserhead’s eye twitches, embarrassment coloring his face as he shoves it further into his capture gear and turns away, he couldn’t help the flare of gratitude from warming deep in his chest.
“Merry Christmas, illogical rascals.”
___
3. Sleeping on the Job
Eraserhead was half asleep when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.
He reacted instantly.
Too bad Punch seemed to be expecting it, as they smoothly ducked under the hero’s swinging fist then dodged around the loop of capture weapon sent after it.
“Well, ain’t that a greetin’, ‘raser?” Eraserhead stops, wiping a hand down his face in exhaustion, limbs heavy. The world sways. Two steady hands clamp onto his upper arms and ease him back into his seat at the break table.
“You good, Hero?”
Yes.
No.
He might be if he just took a 5 minute nap.
Maybe.
“He’ll be fine, Em.” Eraser blinks, finding a wool blanket on his shoulders and a steaming can of coffee before him. When’d that get there? A blue gauntleted hand guides his own to the can, “Drink up, Eraser. Get something warm in you for the rest of your patrol, yeah?”
And the hero hums, lets the coffee seep into his bones as he’s surrounded on both sides by heavy, warm bodies, and lets himself drift along with the snow just starting to fall.
He wakes up four hours later on the couch in his apartment, no memory as to how he got there.
And next to him, a plate of cookies and a cold mug of coffee with a sticky note stating Merry Christmas! in Jump’s swirling text.
___
4. Just Passing By
Eraser is crouched on the edge of an icy rooftop, huddled miserably in his winter trench coat as his eyes strain in the cold. The winter months were always the worst for his dry eye, the cold air making his already irritated eyes more dry, freezing his eye drops and what little tears his damaged ducts can produce.
His fingers ached while his palms sweat in his fingerless gloves.
His toes were numb and knees ached.
His bones felt like they were going to freeze solid any second.
All he wants is go home to his boyfriend and cats, but he had an obligation to his job.
And if he’s anything, he’s a hero.
A spider drags down his back.
Quirk flaring, hair floating and eyes casting an eerie red against the falling snow, Eraserhead spins around to whatever was sneaking up on him.
To find a steaming to-go coffee cup behind him.
And a sticky note.
A frozen cat can’t catch a frozen rat,
Stay warm out there, Erasercat!
~Em and Blue
And if Eraser cracks a smile as he huddles around the cup in his hands…
Well, he’s not ashamed as the warmth spreads through him from a moment of kindness.
___
5. Candy Graham
“Aizawa-san?”
The hero looks up from his reports, bloodshot eyes glancing over the rim of his wire reading glasses at Cloud’s newest intern. She looks nervous, but more confused than anything. Uh oh.
“Yeah?”
The teen shifts on her feet, her smoke-like hair shifting into sunset colors as she bites her lip, “Well, um, someone came in and…”
“And?” Aizawa prompts, patiently. (And if he’s reaching for his capture weapon, removing his glasses and preparing to charge out into a fight… well, at least he’s subtle about it.)
But the teen just bites her lip again, ducking out of the room briefly to return with a…
Cardboard cup holder?
They didn’t…
“They also wanted…” she shifted slightly, a blush growing on her face, and then she shrugged and looked right at Aizawa as she held out the cup holder and…
Jingle bells
Jingle bells,
Jingle all the way,
Oh what fun,
It is to be,
A Hero on this day.
Oh
“That’s enough.” Aizawa sighs heavily, rubbing his face tiredly as he waves the intern over and taking a cup. “What they look like?”
“Blue hoodie and a Santa mask.”
“Of course.” Aizawa huffs, handing the intern the peppermint mocha labeled with her hero name, because Jump is considerate like that.
“Of course they’d do this.”
___
6. Gift for Two
“Shou, are you sleeping?”
“No.”
“It looks like you’re sleeping.”
“You’d know if I were sleeping. I wouldn’t be talking.”
“That’s not true, Shou. You talk in your sleep.”
“No I don’t.”
“I had an hour long conversation with you about the cats wearing little tuxes and dresses to our wedding. It was fascinating.”
“… You lie.”
“I don’t.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Well then what is it that I recordeeee hey what’s that?”
Aizawa blinks, turning in his seat to follow Hizashi’s gaze behind him. There’s a pair of cups behind him, two ceramic travel mugs, one with white doves on a yellow background, and the other with black cats on a red background.
And a stickynote.
“……… I’m gonna kill them.”
“No, don’t do that Shou, they’re your only friends out there.”
“And? Still gonna kill them.”
“Uh, huh. Keep tellin’ yourself that, Shou.”
___
7. Decaf?
Shouta opened his eyes blearily, throat scratchy and body aching with the fever he got while on last night’s patrol. He’d bundled up, carried hot water, tried to stay out of the snow banks and keep his jumpsuit from getting too wet whenever fights got violent…
But he’d still gotten sick.
Because why not.
Letting out a grating breath, Shouta reaches for the coffee table, where he’s set some crackers and water earlier, but instead finds a bowl.
He’s sitting up before he knows it, and is regretting it heavily.
“Whoa, Eraser, easy now,” and oh, he knows that voice, “Don’t want to make yourself pass out, right?”
“What are you doing here?” Aizawa winces at the rasp that is his voice, but cold hands are pressing against his neck and forehead and steadying him as he lays back onto the couch. Then, after settling the pillow back under his head and pulling the thin fleece blanket up over his chest, Jump rounds the couch and crouches beside him. They grab the bowl of, what looks like porridge, and stir it around a bit, cooling it off before handing him a spoonful.
Aizawa glares, knowing full well that if he let the vigilante treat him as an invalid then—
“You either eat willingly, or I shove the spoon down your throat.”
… well, a few bites won’t hurt.
He’s onto his tenth spoonful when a second figure rounds the couch, one of Aizawa’s steaming mugs in their hand. Punch kneels down across from Jump, by Aizawa’s knees instead of head, and holds out their hands to trade.
When Jump brings the mug to his lips, he has to pause at the taste.
“Coffee’s bad for the sick.”
“No, caffeine is bad for the sick.”
Seeing no argument with that, Shouta sighs and accepts the mug with only barely shivering fingers, and lets his two problem vigilante’s take care of him.
What a winter indeed.
___
8. Ever Think of a Thought?
“You ever think of who thought of this?”
Eraserhead pauses, finger hovering over the coffee button on the roof vending machine as he turns to Punch with a raised brow.
“No. Not really.”
The vigilante hums, arms crossed as they lean against the wall, helmet visor turned to examine the hot drink machine they’d been using for years now.
However, as the hero finally presses the button, getting his hot coffee spit out at him in exchange for a few yen, he paused.
And thought.
Then cursed under his breath.
“Why do I ever listen to what you two muse about?”
“Because we’re the only entertainment you have.”
“You forget I’m married to a radio host.”
“No, I don’t.”
And if Punch suddenly finds themselves pushed off a roof into a snow bank?
There were no witnesses to say Eraser did it.
___
9. Decaf.
“Shou, you can’t have coffee.”
“Why the hell not, Zashi.”
“For one, you’re in the hospital.”
“I’ve had coffee in the hospital before…”
“For two, you have a stab wound and multiple fractured ribs. The worst thing you could do to yourself is put caffeine in your body.”
“That isn’t the worst I can do, Zashi.”
“You’re right, it’s not. But I don’t need to stop you from doing the other things because those things are ‘illogical’ so won’t be on your ‘will do anyways because I’m a stubborn aaaaa—what’s that?”
Having the strangest sense of déjà vu, Shouta turns to look at the other side of the room from his husband, and finding something sitting innocently on the windowsill.
Two, innocent something’s, frosted slightly with the snow still falling outside.
“… Shou I swear if you bribed them…”
“There is nothing in this world that I can bribe those two with, Zashi. I thought you’d know that by now.”
The blonde stares at the two can’s as he makes his way back to Aizawa’s side, “… huh. Guess you’re right.” then he hands one can directly to Shouta.
“Thought I couldn’t have caffeine, Zashi.”
“You can’t, and you won’t. Jump got you decaf.”
… well, at least they’re paying attention.
___
10. Why Not?
“Ready?” Eraserhead felt silly asking that, already knowing the answer to come, but still let the question fall from his lips. He needed to know, needed to make sure, needed to be aware of the preparedness of those watching his back and in charge of his general well being and…
There’s an espresso can tapping his nose.
Grabbing the offending object, going a bit cross-eyed for a moment, Eraserhead glares at his partner for the night, the lights of the mob warehouse casting glittering shadows against their visor.
“Get warm, or it’ll not matter if I’m ready or not.”
And, well, free caffeine right before a raid?
No logical reason to say no.
___
11. … How?
Aizawa stared.
And stared.
And stared.
But no matter how he stared at the impossibility sitting on his desk, it wouldn’t go away.
“Aizawa?” he flinched, not aware anyone had walked into the teachers’ lounge, then scowled as Vlad sidled up to him, “What’s got you in a mood? Another prank from one of your failed—”
The Blood Hero paused, staring at the neat pyramid stack of to-go cups of coffee on the Eraser Hero’s desk, a single stickynote taped to the apex.
To Cat-san,
Be grateful for this,
It was a bitch getting in.
Especially for the Holiday.
Your favorites,
Blue & Em
“… How did they—”
“I don’t know.”
“…… did you ask—”
“No, not yet.”
“……… do you think—”
“Kami, if he did, I’ll fucking quit.”
That day, every teacher in UA got a free coffee.
And the first person to ask about where they got it was thrown out the window.
___
12. [REDACTED]
Aizawa looked out over the city, the snow finally having died down and the clouds dispersed. It was a half hour before sunrise, and the hero was loath to miss it.
Especially this year.
The crunch of boots on snow reaches the man’s ears, but he doesn’t turn. He already knows who’s joining him, and doesn’t want to take his eyes off the horizon for a single moment.
This person was safe, safer than he ever thought another person to be. Even his husband.
And wasn’t that a thought?
“So you did stay for sun-up, huh?” the person sits beside Aizawa heavily, boots swinging out over the edge of the roof, disturbing a bit of snow along the way.
Aizawa huffed, leaning over to bump shoulders with his companion briefly before righting himself. Silently, a hot cup of coffee is handed over to him.
“That’s a thought.” Aizawa hummed, taking the cup gently, curling long fingers around the foam and reveling in the warmth that sang there. His companion hummed as well, not a questioning sound, but not a vague one either. A comfortable sound. The sound of someone listening, but not demanding words.
Aizawa smiles at it, tracing a thumb around the coffee cups lid.
“You always get me coffee whenever I most need it. Decaf or not. Honeyed or not. You always seem to know, and always willing to provide.” He takes a sip of the cup, savoring the rich bitterness of a fresh ground along with the smooth gold of honey and bite of cinnamon. “How is that?”
His companion snorts, leaning on one of their hands while sipping from their own cup, gaze also locked on the ever brightening horizon.
“Years of practice and attention.” They look over at the hero, lips pulling up in a smile, “You’re far easier to read than you let on.”
And Aizawa chuckles at that, lifting his head and closing his eyes to bask in the frozen morning air, in the cloudy words pulled from chapped lips and warmth drained from frosted cups.
In the feeling of a familiar body next his own, basking in the dawning of another day right alongside him.
Aizawa opens his eyes again, gazing into the gray horizon just as another cup comes into view.
He looks over at his partner, brow lifted and contented look on his face.
His companion is a mirror, but with a touch of fond patience and sly humor to their features.
“Merry Christmas, old friend.”
And Shouta laughs, a deep but bright thing, as he taps his coffee mug against their own, just as the sun breaks the horizon in a burst of yellow and orange and violet and light.
“Merry Christmas. Old friend.”