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Izuku, for the first time in years, has been looking forward to Christmas day. Sure, the last two years, Eraserhead has given him a little something, usually some food and a new knife or the like, and last year Tsuka got him a really lovely scarf that may or may not have looked very similar to a capture weapon, but this is Izuku's first Christmas as an official Aizawa, as someone with aunts and uncles and boyfriends and cats and a Dad, and it has him grinning when he goes to bed the night before, eager and excited.
When they don't have shifts, Aizawa, Hizashi and Nemuri have long-since been in the habit of sharing Christmas day together, all piling into one of their apartments with ingredients and presents in tow, ready for a lazy day with far too much flour in hair and raucous laughter at stupid television characters. It's wonderful, in other words. And this year, Izuku is joining in.
"Oi, kid, you awake yet?" The greenette, contentedly curled up with Cadaver in a furry ball against his stomach, Caitlin sprawled over the larger plane of his hip and thigh, manages a hum loud enough that Aizawa pokes his head around the door. And-
"Dad, you're wearing-"
"Yes?" The man challenges, eyebrow raised, completely nonchalant about the honest-to-Kami Santa hat pulled over his bedhead hair. Izuku snorts, then dissolves into giggles that has Caitlin rolling off of him with a disgruntled meow but his Dad stepping closer, raising a hand to card fingers through his curls, a soft smile ending up on both of their faces.
"Merry Christmas kiddo."
"Merry Christmas Dad." It's a simple exchange, but it brings them both a ridiculous amount of joy. And if, before he leaves, he leans down to press a stubbled kiss to his kid's forehead before standing straight again, patting his curls, and stealing the cats, then it only earns him a half-hearted glare.
"Don't bother getting changed. Christmas is pyjama time." His grave tone isn't matched by the little grin still tugging at his lips.
"Like we need an excuse."
"True," Aizawa acknowledges, not bothering to shut the door behind himself. He knows Izuku prefers it open, or at least ajar, and the teen doesn't need to get dressed anyway.
They've got a Christmas to enjoy.
~~~
Breakfast is a simple thing, just toast, because they both know that Hizashi and Nemuri will be arriving within the hour with cookie and dinner ingredients in hand. Before then though, Aizawa has one particular gift to give his kid.
"Hey kiddo, come over to the sofa for a minute." Izuku having just been about to wash up their breakfast plates, is more than happy to abandon them in the sink and rinse his hands before bounding over to the sofa. Inelegantly slithering over the back of it headfirst has his Dad snorting, but the man still offers him a hand to get upright once more. Then the teen is leaning against the man's side, peering at the present - wrapped in silver paper with an obnoxiously large green gift-wrapping bow on top - that's on his lap.
"I- For me?"
"Kiddo, you know I sent you out with your boys yesterday so I would actually be able to wrap your stuff without you being a sneaky little shit. Oh, and I know you know that I found that camera, Problem Child." Izuku cackles, unrepentant, because he knew his Dad would catch the little camera trick he'd left when he went on a Christmas date with Hitoshi and Shouto, but he can't really be blamed for trying to get an early glimpse into his Christmas gifts, surely?
"This is the sentimental stuff. I wanted to give it to you before the idiots arrive," Aizawa confides, the grumpiness a poor cover for the hint of nerves. Izuku is reminded very strongly of his own birthday, months ago now, when his Dad had been worried about scaring him off or saying the wrong thing or something. And call them both emotionally-constipated fools most of the time, but they manage to be pretty honest to each other in moments like this.
Which is probably why, grinning widely, Izuku nudges his Dad to share a soft look before taking the offered box. Gently rattling it, all smirks and gleaming eyes, he puts the man out of his misery and settles it in his own lap to bop the bouncy ribbon ball-bow thing on top, before delicately tugging the tape off of one side and managing to slide the actual box out. And when he pauses to gently fold the wrapping paper into a neat square and places it on the coffee table, Aizawa lets him do so without a word, no doubt remembering him doing much the same on his birthday, and probably having seen his stash of the cards and wrapping paper in one of his drawers, kept safe.
Then Izuku actually lifts the lid of the box, and for half a second he doesn't react. On top of some black tissue paper is a little velvet pouch, dark green, and he glances askance at his Dad in silent question. The man, nerves even clearer now, gestures at him to go ahead. Still wordless, there's a slight tension in the air, but it's more anticipation than true tension, and Izuku isn't uncomfortable at all as he pulls the drawstring loose and upends the little bag over his palm.
A length of silver chain pools in his hand, and amongst it is a silver triangle and a matching ring. Neither are particularly chunky, nor are they decorated in any way, but the hint of engravings on the inner face of the ring catches his attention, so Izuku holds it up to catch the light, heartrate speeding up a little, chest warming.
'Problem Child, Kidilante, My Son'
Oh. Oh, that- The first thing Eraserhead called him, then Dadzawa, then just his Dad. It's only five words, but it's the progression of their relationship, the process of Izuku finding a family, gaining someone that he knows loves him unconditionally, who respects him and teaches him and protects him without fail or hesitation. In one little piece of jewellery, his Dad has told him so much.
Ah, no wonder his eyes are burning.
"Hey, hey, kid, you're not meant to be crying, it can't be that shitty, can it?" There are gentle, callused hands wiping away his tears, tilting his head back a little to meet his gaze, and Izuku brings up a grin that has the man shutting up, even as he continues his ministrations.
"'S not- not shitty at all, Dad," he hiccups out, clutching the necklace tight to his chest,
"Love it. Really." There's an actual huff of relief from the man. But when he goes to draw Izuku in for a hug, he stops himself, and that has the teen shifting, uncomfortable, because why-
"Good. We've got one each after all," the man confides, his attempt at teasing lost to something serious but sweet, rich with relief and affection and contentment, but most of Izuku's attention has latched on to the hand that digs beneath capture weapon and tatty old sleep shirt to pull out another silver chain and ring, this one without the triangle pendant.
Reaching out is a subconscious thing, but Aizawa doesn't seem to care, easily depositing the ring in his kid's hand, leaning forward a little to accommodate the rather short chain length.
"Eraserdad, Dadzawa, My Dad," Izuku reads off. His voice trembles, wavers, but there's a strength to it, a kind of awe and delight that radiates like starlight, and he finds himself letting go of the necklace to shift forward and wrap a fierce hug around his Dad's shoulders. Aizawa, mumbling low reassurances, returns the embrace, holding Izuku close, letting the kid feel his heartbeat, his chest rising and falling, the metal of the necklace pressed between them. He intends to be around for a damn long time, if only for Izuku's sake, but having something like this, a permanent tether, a matching pair, is somehow perfect. A reassurance to them both.
When they draw back from the hug, both less-than-subtly wiping their eyes, the hero speaks up again,
"I wasn't sure 'cause a lot of it was pretty sappy shit, or childish, but I figured this was a good compromise-"
"Dad, it's perfect. What's the triangle mean though?"
"Ah, right, it was a thing I read about online. One side is your biological mother, one is me, one is you," he explains and holy shit is that a blush amongst the stubble? Snickering, Izuku nods, growing more solemn as he brushes reverent fingertips over both of his pendants, before he slips the chain over his neck, pleased to find it's fairly short, settling only an inch or two below his collar bones. Less chance of getting caught on something, tucked under clothes or a hero costume or otherwise.
It's... nice, more than, that his Dad acknowledges his Mum. Sure, she wasn't perfect, and she's been gone for nearly ten years now, but Izuku still loves her. Still mourns her on bad days and wishes he could tell her when good things happen. He knows, above all, that she would be in happy tears to see him with his Dad now, see him loved and becoming what he wants to be.
After a minute, his hero clears his throat, catching Izuku's attention again, and he brings a wobbly smile to meet the man.
"Don't forget the rest kiddo."
"Oh! You- you didn't need to do all of thi-"
"Izuku, kid, you're mine. You deserve some Christmas presents, more even, it's not a lot."
"It's everything," he returns, something fierce and unyielding in his tone because he needs his Dad to understand, fully and without issue, just how precious all of this is to the teen, just how much he treasures having a family and respect and affection beyond what he feels he deserves sometimes.
When his Dad nods, ruffling soft curls in tandem with giving out a resigned sigh, Izuku flashes a smile again in return, turning to the box and lifting off the sheets of tissue paper. It's... a notebook? No, it's square and too thick, so what- Picking it up and letting it fall open to the first page, Izuku finds a picture of himself, in costume, on his Dad's back. Oh.
He flips through a little frantically, barely managing not to cry again, because this is him and his Dad and their cats and his aunties and uncles and boyfriends and class and teachers and it's just beautiful. It's the last year of his life in one photo album with room enough for more pictures in the last third, and there are so many smiles and cats and eyes crinkled close in laughter that it's almost unbelievable because sure, he knows he's been happier, that he's had good people and good times even with villain attacks and everything else to deal with, but to see it laid out like this, glossy snapshots of life and laughter and love, it's surreal. Truly amazing.
Of course, the moment is interrupted by the clack of the front door unlocking and Izuku barely has enough time to gently shut the album and tuck it back into its box, setting it on the coffee table, before there are raucous greetings and the thumps of shoes being abandoned.
"Shou, Izuku, we come bearing gifts of our presence and food- Wait, what, Baby broccoli, you can't cry on Christmas! Shou, Shou, you horrible bastard, what did you do to our nephew?!" Hizashi yells, even as both he and Nemuri rush over and literally snatch Izuku up, dragging him in close and hiding him behind them with only half-playful glares for the underground hero. Izuku, for his part, is giggling. His Dad, less amused, simply glares at them, then abruptly bursts forward, dodging Hizashi's startled punch, shoving both of the adults even as his capture weapon lashes out and then Izuku nearly hits the ceiling before landing in his Dad's arms, cackling madly, the Aizawas sharing Cheshire grins as they dart back around the sofa, Izuku shifting one hand from around his Dad's neck to bury in the capture weapon. A strand of the fabric-alloy lashing out and tripping the two heroes obviously has nothing to do with him. Obviously.
"Thanks for protecting me, but fuck off Auntie, Uncle," he smirks, peering over his Dad's shoulder, but then the man drops him and it turns to an indignant squawk.
"Dadzawa, what the fuck-"
"Language, Problem Fucker."
"Ohmigod, I can't even," Izuku groans, rolling over enough to wrap himself around the man's legs, limbs in full-on octopus mode, and Aizawa bends down, balance impeccable, to be face to face with him.
"Off."
"Mmm... Nope!"
Groaning, even with his eyes gleaming brightly, Aizawa starts trying to dislodge Izuku. He nearly manages too, but then the teen switches his grip to one leg alone and ends up practically sat on his Dad's foot, very firmly limpeted to his leg, smiling cheerily up at his Dad.
"You know what, fine." With that, the man starts walking back towards the kitchen, taking exaggerated steps that have Izuku laughing, childish and bright and delighted, as he's swung through the air, and if Aizawa chuckles a bit too, then the other two heroes won't call him out on it now. No, it'll make excellent blackmail later on.
Once they reach the kitchen and Kimchi bounds over, curious, Izuku releases his Dad's neck and flops back onto the floor, tugging the cat into his arms and onto his chest, laughing as Hizashi and Nemuri have to step over him to get into the kitchen proper and the cat bats at both of them, catching the man's ankle and making him yelp. But then she gets bored when nobody else goes past and turns, bats briefly at Izuku's curls, then saunters off, no doubt to settle behind some of the sofa cushions. Such a charming bitch. They all love her.
Izuku gets to his feet with a groan and heads over to wash his hands, squeezing past Uncle Nem to do actually be able to reach, and chirping a thanks when she puts the soap on the side of the sink he can actually currently get to. Their kitchen really isn't meant for four people but none of them care. They've got cookies to make.
Nearly two hours later, with far more flour and icing everywhere than there probably should be considering how few actual spillages there were (thrown or carefully directed, on the other hand... well, all's fair in love and war, particularly between family) they all settle on the floor or sofa of the living room, cats joining them, to snack on just-cool cookies with icing that's a little melted because Izuku and Hizashi might have been a bit too eager to decorate the last batch, and are contentedly quiet. Until Nemuri, groaning and patting her stomach, manages to get to her feet and pick up the two gift bags she and Hizashi had dumped in the genkan.
"Present time darlings~" She promptly dumps one of said bags on Hizashi's stomach, prompting him to let out an 'oof' and grumble,
"Why am I the only one getting battered today?" Everyone else ignores him though, Izuku and Aizawa sitting up from their place beside each other on the floor.
"This one's for you two! It's from both of us, kay?"
"It is! We chose them together and we're very proud of ourselves." The father-son duo exchange a glance, because that could mean one of two very different things, but with a philosophical shrug and his grin growing again, Izuku offers the bag that Nemuri has given him to his Dad, letting him put his hand in first. Rolling his eyes, the man acquiesces, clearly wary, only to pull out something soft and knitted. As he unfolds it, Izuku is pulling out his own and revealing an ugly jumper.
An ugly Christmas jumper that- yep, shares a cat-theme with his Dad's.
"Family Christmas ugly jumpers!" Hizashi crows, hands thrown up, as Nemuri pulls out her own and Hizashi's out of the second bag, and all of them pull said jumpers on, looking around at each other. The underground hero's has a grumpy black cat, complete with a santa hat and a red ribbon for a collar, which would be fine if the background wasn't lime green with red collar and cuffs, along with 'Meowy Catmas' in a shade of gold that seems to be legitimate tinsel. Looking down at his own reveals another cat, this one lime green itself, on a black background, but it has actual lights for eyes, a collar, and along its paws, then a bright red sack over its shoulder. As he tries to find the little battery pack that he can tell must be somewhere, Izuku reads the pun upside-down: 'Here comes Santa Claws'. Sniggering, Izuku takes in the two further cat-themed jumpers for his Auntie and Uncle, both with obnoxious colours and Hizashi with lights too, his flashing gold and white and green. The greenette's never had a Christmas jumper before, or at least not that he remembers, and what better way to start than a family set?
"These are almost as awful as you two," Aizawa mutters, utterly unimpressed, but he doesn't take it off. The other three exchange a knowing glance at that because that's almost ringing endorsement from the underground pro, but before they can begin to tease him, there's a knock on the door.
"I'll get it," Izuku chirps, popping Caitlin into his Dad's lap before scrambling to his feet and hopping over some tissue paper to get to said door.
"Tsuka!" He immediately lurches forwards and limpets himself to the man. To his credit, Tsukauchi only stumbles back a single pace and manages not to drop the little parcel in his hand, looping his arms beneath the teen now attached to his front.
"Hey kid."
"You want some cookies?" Izuku offers as he gets carried back into their genkan, the door locking automatically behind them, the detective managing to shove off his shoes without dropping his passenger and already coming into the living area. There's a short round of greetings and the man pats the sweet-smelling curls pressed into his neck, prompting Izuku to land lightly on the floor once again.
"Those are... some sweaters."
"Aren't they cool?" Izuku chirps, Nemuri smirking and Hizashi nodding enthusiastically, long hair catching on the lights of his own jumper.
"By some definitions kid, sure," Tsukauchi offers, a bit hesitant but clearly happy that Izuku is, a fact that nobody misses. The greenette himself reaches up to gently pat the man's cheek, half in thanks and half teasing, before abruptly bouncing on the balls of his feet.
"I'mma go get your present quick, kay?" Tsukauchi startles a little, but smiles softly,
"Sure kid. We can swap, yeh?" Izuku darts off, rounding the sofa properly instead of vaulting over it for once, and the detective turns his attention to the other adults.
"He's having a good day, isn't he? It's good to see."
"It really is," Nemuri agrees, and they all smile to each other, Aizawa included. They wanted today to be brilliant for Izuku, knowing it to be his first Christmas in a long time, if ever, and so far they seem to be managing. Tears earlier or not.
"Here you go!" Izuku calls, appearing back from his room and brandishing an immaculately-wrapped present in snowflake paper and silver ribbon.
"Ah, thanks kiddo. I wasn't expecting anything," the man says, even though he doesn't hesitate to take the parcel and offers his own in return. Izuku, a shy smile in place, delicately peels away the wrapping paper to reveal a book.
"Oh, this is the analysis book that you only- Tsuka! You shouldn't have!" Izuku cries, but he's literally vibrating in place, flipping it over to read the blurb, and the detective shoots a grin towards the other adults,
"It's fine. We had a spare from the last batch so I picked it up before anyone else could. Open it." Izuku, frowning a little with eyes alight with both curiosity and lingering glee, nearly drops the slip of paper that falls out.
"An ema- A confirmation for visiting a shelter next week?"
"A cat shelter," Tsukauchi confirms and is luckily expecting the hug that crashes into him, Izuku clutching him tightly, else he probably would've gone backend-first to the floor. Tsukauchi pretends he can breathe and returns the fierce grip a bit more gently. He'd checked with Aizawa, sure, but he hadn't actually been sure the teen would take it well, somehow. He should have known better than to worry. The kid's an Aizawa after all, so cats are always a safe bet.
"Thank you Tsuka! Really! Oh, wait, wait, open yours too," Izuku demands, only a little bit teasing, as he steps back again. The detective does so, and finds himself with a slightly teary smile at the framed picture he finds. It's a sketch, black and white, done in elegant strokes and hatched shading, of himself and his sister, clearly referenced from the image of his sister's graduation from her journalism course, and their joy - his laced with pride, hers with triumph - is evident in more than just their smiles. It's stunning.
"Did you draw this yourself kid?"
"Took a few tries, but, uhm, yeh, I did. Is it alright?"
"Kid, Izuku, it's brilliant," Tsukauchi grins, tugging the kid into another hug, this one far shorter because he is meant to be getting home soon. But he can afford to ruffle soft curls once more and nods to the other adults.
"Happy holidays." He gets a round of similar replies as Izuku shoves a half-dozen cookies into a container and waits beside him in the genkan as he puts his shoes back on, accepts the box of cookies, then leaves with a final head-pat for the teen.
~~~
It's several hours later, after a few rounds of board games that result in more than one knife thrown and capture weapon being slapped at people, along with copious amounts of cheating by all four of them, when Hizashi leaves for a little while to pick up takeaway for dinner. It's a lazy day, all domestic-soft, laughter-rich and chaotic. It's not long after their meal that, with a contented grumble, Izuku slumps against his Dad's side, cats curled around them, and finds that each blink lasts longer than the previous until everything's warm and dark and he's gone.
Aizawa, unable to help the soft smile that creeps in amongst his stubble, shifts slowly until his kid's head is pillowed on his lap, and careful fingers find the battery pack along the hem of his jumper to turn off the ridiculous lights. They may or may not also brush through his kid's hair until there's a little murmur as Izuku leans into
"You two sleeping here toni-"
"You even have to ask?" Nemuri smirks, voice quiet and lacking nothing in snarky tone, successfully distracting the man for long enough for Hizashi to tuck his phone away, intent on sending the photo to everyone they know as soon as Aizawa leaves the room, including the man himself. He'll have to wait at least a few minutes until murdering them after all, can't risk waking the kid up. Before anything like that can happen though, Aizawa abruptly speaks, looking away from his son to level them both a serious expression.
"Thank you both for today." And it's not a question, but the replies are easy enough to come up with,
"Of course Shou, he's our nephew."
"We needed the baby's first family Christmas to be brilliant, ya know?"
The underground hero smiles properly, small and sweet, and it's moments like these where his two friends are truly able to see how much good Izuku has been for him. How much hope and positivity and joy one joyful, chaotic child has brought into his life. Into all of their lives. None of them could be more grateful, more content, and that's probably why Izuku gets no less than seven forehead kisses whilst being carried to his bed and tucked in, three cats around him.
Somehow, the squawks of Nemuri and Hizashi nearly being murdered by a vengeful Aizawa who has finally looked at his phone don't wake him up. It's probably a good thing, else his Dad might have tried again.