Archive of Our Own

“You’ve betrayed me for the last time,” a deep voice rumbled next to him. Izuku glanced back from lacing his running shoes to see Hitoshi, still lying in bed, glaring at their cat who was nosing at his face and meowing for attention. 

“I thought we had a nap pact, Tostito,” the man grumbled. Tostito meowed louder, obviously not napping. Hitoshi gasped.

“How could you break our oath?”

“The sanctity of the pact,” Izuku swore solemnly. Exhausted purple eyes abandoned their staring contest and caught sight of Izuku in his workout gear. His gaze warmed like it always did whenever the taller man woke up to find Izuku next to him. 

Even after two and a half years together--plus their time being friends--it still melted Izuku to his core to know his partner was happy to see him. This quiet, closed-off boy became the biggest dork Izuku knew; and he knew himself, thanks. Hitoshi meant everything and more to him. 

The underground hero had returned from patrol only a few hours ago, immediately crashing into bed to sleep as much as he could during the day. Their schedules often circled around each other. Izuku usually woke up to the sounds of his boyfriend falling asleep. Underground and limelight heroics never had the courtesy to keep the same working hours. Case in point. 

Izuku finished tying his shoes and resecured the brace on his wrist. He’d taken to wearing it whenever he came off a large mission if just to lessen his loved ones’ concern. Recovery Girl called it his present to her for her retirement. Izuku smiled softly at Hitoshi. 

“I have to head into the agency for a few hours for a meeting. I’m going to go after my run but I’ll be back before dinner. I should also talk to Kacchan about the latest press conference. Again.” 

“That asshole,” Hitoshi mumbled, only half-joking. Izuku snorted. He stepped closer. 

“Go to sleep,” he whispered. “It’s still early.” 

He knelt on the side of the bed and braced himself over Hitoshi, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. Izuku lingered for a second. He smiled as Hitoshi dragged a hand out of the covers to reach up and brush through Izuku’s curls before plopping it back to the mattress and closing his eyes. 

“Mmrf,” his boyfriend replied. 

Leaving his apartment when all he wanted to do was stay in bed never got any easier. He took a second to push aside the desire to turn right back inside and join Hitoshi and Tostito in sleeping the day away. He stretched out his arms as he walked down their apartment steps. Izuku broke into a light warm-up jog as soon as he made it to the sidewalk, jacket hood firmly over his head to hide his hair. 

Winter was slowly retreating, hints of greenery and warmer days breaking through the chill. The sunlight and breeze both felt nice as he picked up the pace through his usual ten kilometer route. He weaved around early morning commuters as he made his way to the agency he and Katsuki owned. 

While he ran, he breathed deeply and tried to calm his nerves for the family dinner they’d be having later that night with Hitoshi’s dads. His boyfriend would tease him for being worked up over a simple meal that they’ve done a thousand times, but Izuku did always have to psych himself up for important events. Even if Hitoshi didn’t know it was important. 

Hitoshi felt like home. He didn’t have to be Deku, the anxious quirkless boy desperate for approval. He didn’t have to be Deku, the current number two hero after Hawks, always smiling and upbeat. He could just be Izuku. The kinship he’d felt when first meeting Hitoshi had floored him. Here was someone also fighting to reach the starting line. He’d grown closer with his classmates but none of them had the same fierce eyes that were desperate to prove themselves. Class 1A all had dreams they were passionate about. Trauma initially bound the class together, closer than they might have been otherwise, so he knew everything about what drove them to become heroes. But Hitoshi put every waking moment into his dream. Trauma shaped him; spite fueled him; hope pushed him forward. 

Izuku could relate. 

During high school, they became inseparable as friends. They dragged each other out of their bad habits and worse memories. They’d found a harmony they didn’t know how to categorize. Izuku had several best friends, as did Hitoshi (to the man’s own initial surprise), but none of them held as special of a connection. A connection they didn’t truly name until three years into their pro-hero careers. 

Ochako still fondly recalls Izuku’s nervous freakout of trying to ask Hitoshi on an actual date whenever their group of friends currently meet up for a drink. Izuku still defends that he wasn’t that nervous and he did not freak out, even if that leads to the Gravity Hero impersonating his lightning-fast ramble of “oh my god, he’s so cute when he’s sleepy but he fell asleep before I could even ask him to dinner.” 

Hitoshi always rebuts with not knowing why Izuku would pick him and not realizing Izuku was serious about their hang-out session becoming a date until they were already on it. 

The remaining “Dekusquad” members always try to tease them both with something new, so, there’s that. Their friends keep their lives entertaining. 

The public knew very little of their personal lives. Hitoshi for obvious work reasons and Izuku because he’d learned to differentiate between his hero and civilian “personas.” It helped being a bit plain and having bad fashion sense, plus committing to the half-mask-half-mouthguard for his hero costume. This anonymity gave them room to go out on dates and find a stable foundation for their relationship. One that’s survived countless missions, hospitalizations, and petty arguments. A relationship that’s seen joint family dinners, moving into an apartment, and adopting a stray cat Hitoshi found in a chip bag on patrol. 

A relationship he wants to take further. Depending on how this first step at dinner goes. 

Izuku slapped his hands to his cheeks as he stopped outside of the backdoor access of their agency. 

He opted out of changing into his hero costume as the meeting was only with members of the agency. One of their accountants had misfiled their tax papers and now Izuku had to sit in on the meeting for two entire hours as the legal and accounting departments went over the new paperwork and what was needed. Sometimes Izuku loved having his own agency. Sometimes, like now, he hated it. Once they wrapped up, Izuku wished everyone well and bolted from the pile of paperwork the secretary walking up to him was carrying. Izuku handled a lot of the minute details of running the agency while Katsuki had to deal with marketing, hiring, and “idea innovation” meetings with the team. But he was sure he could pawn more of the paperwork off on Katsuki who was scheduled for a full shift today. 

Speaking of the devil, Izuku thought as he found his co-founder walking into the agency with a gym bag. The man was looking at his phone and scowling fondly as only the blonde could. 

“Kacchan! Wait up,” he called. Katsuki turned around, raising an eyebrow at Izuku running up to him. The One for All user bounced in place while his friend sighed. 

“What’s up, nerd?” He asked. They’d come a long way from their youth--years of fighting and heartbreaking discussions between them--but the blonde would never stop calling him a nerd. He’d flat out refused to do so, much to Izuku’s amusement. 

Izuku basked in the feeling of actually getting along with his old childhood friend turned bully turned friendly rival. It was something he found himself doing often, especially during that first year out of UA when they’d decided to create an agency. All of their class had been wildly popular after the villain attacks during their high school years so it wasn’t a surprise that they rose quickly through the ranks after graduation. Now he and Katsuki worked side by side, just as little Izuku always wanted. 

He schooled his expression from fond to stern disappointment, trying not to smile. “We have to talk about that last press conference--” 

Katsuki groaned and immediately turned to continue walking. “I already get enough crap from PR, I don’t need it from you too.” 

“Well, you obviously aren’t listening to Ayume-chan when she tells you you can’t curse out reporters!” 

“That scumbag had it coming, he was baiting questions about Inferno’s family life.” Their newest intern from UA had caused some property damage while chasing a speed quirk villain, hence the press conference. Katsuki and Inferno had both been in attendance and the young boy had sincerely apologized while his mentor in destructive quirks, the hero Dynamight himself, advised the public they’d be working on mitigating damage in the future. A lone reporter from a gossip magazine had then started asking prying questions about the intern’s mental state and history. Inferno had paled and Katsuki had exploded. Almost literally. 

“I get that but you have to show restraint! They’re going to question our interns but we have to stand up for them in a positive manner. The kids will learn bad manners, Kacchan!” Izuku scolded. He dodged the shoulder shove Katsuki attempted as they made their way to the gym locker rooms. He hopped backward and waited a second before carefully following once more. Katsuki huffed. 

“Being nice isn’t going to get anything done, nerd.”

“Kill them with kindness,” Izuku reminded cheekily. He shook out his hands as he stepped in front of his locker. Katsuki discovered Izuku’s method of persuasion first hand during their third year when the boy delivered an unflinchingly polite verbal smackdown to some punks from Shiketsu who had been trash-talking their class during a joint exercise. They’d gone home in tears while Izuku had never once lost his pleasant smile. He’d gone on to use that method of persuasion against difficult heroes, villains, and paparazzi alike. 

Katsuki snorted at the memory. 

“It’s better to be upfront with your feelings,” He mocked, using one of Hound Dog’s old sayings that he not-so-secretly internalized as he changed into training gear. “And can you please stop fucking bouncing? Why are you so hyper?” 

“Ah, just some nervous energy, I guess.”

“What the hell are you nervous about?” 

“Personal things, Kachan,” Izuku enunciated each syllable of his rival and friend’s nickname. A single red eye twitched before the blonde hero visibly gathered himself to keep from exploding. He threw a towel in Izuku’s direction.

“Fucking come on then. Let’s spar. That’ll calm your ass down. I don’t wanna hear about you and Eyebags anyway.”

“How do you know it’s about Toshi, huh? Besides, I saw you texting. How’s Eijirou-kun doing?”  

By the time he finally returns home, he’s mentally and physically exhausted. There may be a few more bruises on his face than their agency’s PR department will be happy with, but that’s not his problem on his day off. He knows he should finish up some chores. Maybe work on some reports, or write in some of his now-coded analysis journals. Hell, even watch a movie before he’d need to start getting ready for dinner. Yet when he toes off his sneakers at the door and greets Tostito, he feels the contentment of being home seeping into his bones. Work could wait. 

He silently slipped into their bedroom as Tostito trotted behind him. Izuku pulled off his change of clothes--his previous shirt sacrificed to a well-timed explosion--and carefully crawled under the blankets next to the lump on the bed. He settled on his side and stared as the lump shifted, one purple eye blearily peeking out from a blanket cocoon before a long arm popped out and pulled Izuku closer. 

“Welcome home,” his boyfriend attempted to mumble into Izuku’s hair. 

“I”m home,” Izuku whispered back, cuddling close and shutting his eyes. It was easy as breathing to slip off into pleasant dreams. 

Hours later, after Hitoshi’s third alarm woke them up and they scrambled for showers, the two heroes knocked on a familiar apartment door. 

Hizashi threw it open and beamed, yelling a loud “come in” and waving Hitoshi and Izuku into the living room. 

“Hi Pops,” Hitoshi greeted and accepted his adopted father’s hug. 

“Hi Hizashi!” Izuku grinned. He also hugged the peppy blonde, lifting the man off the floor just a little. 

Shouta called a tired greeting from the couch where he was hidden behind a mound of paperwork on the coffee table. Ever since becoming Nedzu’s successor, Shouta had been swamped with more technical responsibilities as vice principal. The mouse-dog-bear hybrid loved to threaten that he was retiring soon and leaving UA but everyone knew he’d let the Erasure hero have a few more years to fully adjust. 

Hitoshi dropped onto the couch next to his other father and Izuku happily waved before joining Hizashi in the kitchen. They alternated between the Aizawa-Yamada household and Inko’s home every other week for their family dinners and had long since settled in a routine. Izuku was usually the one to help cook, familiar with a kitchen as a young boy under Inko’s watchful eye. Hitoshi sometimes took over instead but both men made sure to spend time with the parents in their lives. This tradition started not long after they made their relationship official. Their first dinner with Inko left Hitoshi blushing and happy for days. Their first dinner with Shouta and Hizashi left Izuku mildly terrified but also feeling loved. 

Hizashi turned on soft music for background noise and they caught up with each other as they cooked, Izuku happily chattering about his day with the vibrant man who let him be as open as he wanted. Present Mic had played a huge part in boosting the confidence of their class, Izuku in particular. His nervous stutter was nonexistent thanks to the man’s guidance. He counted himself lucky to have so many incredible male role models in his life now. 

The older man grilled their fish entree while the younger chopped vegetables and they moved in well-practiced harmony. Izuku could hear Hitoshi and Shouta talking in the living room even if he couldn’t make out the words. Izuku teased Hizashi about the newest magazine article featuring the radio host. Hizashi teased him back about the latest photoshoot Izuku had been coerced into. 

“Food’s ready!” The blonde called to his family while they were laying down plates. Shouta walked in and pressed a quick kiss to Hizashi’s cheek before rounding the table to his chair, patting Izuku’s shoulder as he went. Hitoshi absent-mindedly pulled out Izuku’s chair for him while he was talking to Shouta about the newest coffee shop he’d been going to and how the barista kept incorrectly guessing which hero he was. 

The dinner, as always, was delicious and filled with laughter. They passed dishes around and bemoaned missing both Inko and Eri. The preteen was out at a sleepover with Mirio and Tamaki’s adopted daughter and understandably excited about it. Inko had a standing invitation to dinners held at the men’s apartment which she usually agreed to but she was called into work at the hospital. 

Hizashi told a particularly amusing story of their newest first-year Heroics teacher’s antics. Iida Tensei turned out to be a fantastic role model and guide for young heroes and had created some wildly inventive (and often hilarious) battle scenarios. Shouta egged him on with deadpan snark since their longtime friend wasn’t there to defend himself. 

Izuku watched lovingly as Hitoshi laughed, bright and fae-like in the soft light. While Hizashi continued the story, Hitoshi glanced back at his partner and smiled, eyes crinkling, at the besotted look on the man’s face. Izuku simply continued to grin at his boyfriend, not caring how sappy he looked - he became immune to that kind of teasing years ago. 

The Aizawa-Yamada’s cats rubbed against their legs under the table throughout dinner. After eating, Hizashi excused himself to the bathroom and Hitoshi picked up the lovingly cranky tabby named Bastard and closed his eyes while sitting in the chair. Shouta sighed and leaned back as well, looking like he’d be joining his son in a post-dinner nap. But Izuku took a deep breath, suddenly nervous, and cleared his throat for Shouta’s attention. 

“Hey, could we talk for a second? I wanted your advice on a sensitive case.” 

Shouta sighed again, wearier but not truly against helping. He was often a sounding board for cases from his previous students as he’d become the most accomplished underground hero before retiring to teach full-time. 

“Come on, let’s go outside,” the man said while dragging himself out of the chair. Hitoshi snorted at his father’s groans but happily accepted the kiss Izuku gave him. 

The two stepped out on the balcony as Hitoshi offered to help Hizashi with the dishes when his father returned to the dining area. Bastard grumbled when he was deposited in the empty chair. 

Izuku and Shouta stood side-by-side in front of the balcony railing. The older man offered a pack of cigarettes which Izuku carefully accepted. He tried not to smoke much anymore for Hitoshi’s sake but he couldn’t deny the stress relief he experienced from the habit he picked up out of high school. Not long after becoming official with Hitoshi, he’d discovered that he shared this guilty habit with his boyfriend’s dad. 

Shouta claimed he had quit long ago but started back up after the first day with their “hellspawn class.” 

(Both Hizashi and Hitoshi despaired of their partners’ addiction, both chastising them on taking care of their health. With their voice-based quirks, they were especially adamant about getting Izuku and Shouta to quit. Izuku only indulged after a really bad mission, which Hitoshi begrudgingly understood. Shouta had three packs stashed in his office desk at all times. Which, well. They all begrudgingly understood.) 

Izuku blew out a long stream of smoke to calm his nerves. Shouta side-eyed him as he leaned his arms on the railing.

“So what’s the mission, brat?” 

“Well, you see…”

Izuku shakily pulled the ring box from his pocket and opened it, shielding the view of the silver band from the balcony doors with his body. The two heroes remained silent for several long seconds. 

“I’m flattered but I’m already taken,” Aizawa deadpanned. 

Izuku huffed, smiling. “You’re not my type.” 

Shouta took another drag of his cigarette and raised an eyebrow. “You’ve met my son.” 

Izuku suddenly and distinctly recalled the poster board Todoroki had shown him their second year about all of the similarities between their homeroom teacher and newest classmate. He’d sworn they were blood-related and had only been mildly appeased when he heard Hitoshi was their adopted son. The board had been very extensive. 

Izuku coughed to mask his laugh. 

“Yes, but Hitoshi knows how to cook.” 

Shouta snorted and lazily waved his hand. “He got that from Hizashi. Can I see?” 

The green-haired hero quickly glanced over his shoulder and didn’t see the others nearby. 

He passed over the velvet box and Shouta squinted at the ring, trying to see it clearly despite the low light level. He carefully picked it up out of the case and softly smiled when he spotted the inscription. He handed the ring back and Izuku reverently returned the box to his pocket. 

“Good choice, kid.” 

Izuku flushed. “Thanks. I hope he likes it. Uh. I kind of expected you to be more surprised, actually.”

Shouta watched him for a moment before reaching out and placing a hand in his curls. He’d started this gesture during high school when he had found Izuku curled up and alone, panicking about villains and the weight of his quirk’s legacy. Shouta was never big on physical reassurance outside of his immediate family but headpats and hair ruffles were fair game for his chaotic kids. It was a reflex after all of these years to reassure the now-adult with a quick brush through green locks. 

(Shouta would have sighed at having to reach up more than he used to. Hitoshi was already much taller than him, and Izuku had reached his old teacher’s height. The audacity.) 

“Knew for a while that you two were endgame. Besides, you’re basically already my kid.” 

Shouta isn’t surprised to see Izuku tearing up at that statement. They’ve both seen each other beaten up and exhausted after missions, especially during the later years at UA, and he’s seen the green-haired hero cry over a cat that was too small. Emotional heart to hearts guaranteed at least a few minutes of Midoriya Tears™ no matter which Midoriya it was. 

“Come here,” he said quietly, opening up his arm. Izuku chuckled and ducked his head. He stubbed out his cigarette and leaned against his hopefully soon father-in-law, bringing his own scarred arm up around the man’s shoulders. They spent a quiet moment hugging, Shouta closing his eyes and briefly thanking whatever deity or cosmic power that not only gave him one amazing son but granted him two. He thought he’d maxed out his luck when Hizashi proposed; with Hitoshi and Eri joining his family, he’d been beyond content. 

Now, he’d officially have Izuku as a son. Hitoshi’s happiness was important to both of them. Shouta knew this proposal was only a matter of time after Hitoshi had returned home from the first date honestly beaming. He huffed in amusement. 

“He’ll say yes, you know.” 

Izuku tightened his grip before sniffing and detangling himself. 

“I hope so,” he admitted, shoving his hand in his pocket to nervously fiddle with the ring box. 

“When are you planning on proposing?” Shouta asked. 

“Oh geez, don’t freak me out right now,” Izuku groaned. He leaned his elbows on the railing and placed his head in his hands. “There’s so many ways I could do it and I want it to be perfect. Toshi deserves nothing less but a lot of my ideas are stuck on cat cafes.” 

Shouta snorted. 

A loud squeal broke the moment. Both heroes abruptly turned to the sliding door. 

“Chill out, Pops!” Hitoshi’s deep baritone broke through the noise. Shouta opened the door.

“You guys okay?” He calmly asked, used to the noise and excitement of this chaotic family. Izuku peered through the glass. He wasn’t concerned there was anything wrong--there would be far more actual screaming--but none of the four of them had great luck. 

“Ah, we’re fine!” Hizashi yelped. “There was a spider but Toshi got it for me! My hero!” 

Shouta sighed and smirked knowingly. Izuku could hear Hitoshi’s low groan of “pops!” from the kitchen but the Underground hero slid the door closed. He returned to leaning on the railing alongside Izuku. 

“How’d your mother react?” Shouta asked quietly.

Izuku hummed. “...she doesn’t know yet.” 

“Really?” The older man asked, surprised. There wasn’t much that Midoriya Inko didn’t immediately know about her son--and Hitoshi, by default. She was a wonderful and caring woman. She should have been the very first to know that Izuku was planning on proposing. 

“Yeah, I’m telling her soon though. I, ah, well. I wanted you to be the first to know.” 

“She might be sad you didn’t tell her first,” Shouta teased. He didn’t look over at the other man in order to keep up the pretense that he wasn’t incredibly touched at the thought. 

Izuku smiled anyway, knowing how much of a softie their old homeroom teacher really was. That was a main reason he had wanted to let Shouta know first. The man seemed cold and impersonal but he felt so much for so many people. He cared deeply and when he claimed you as one of his, he always stepped up. Shouta would go to bat for any of his students. He’d guided every one of Izuku’s classmates through their troubles, whether traumatic or incidental. He was the first to truly stand up when he noticed Izuku’s declining mental health in his second year and forced the teen into therapy. He was a pillar of support when Izuku confessed to the true nature of his quirk. 

Toshinori may have been his mentor and role model, but Shouta was a father figure. Not that he’d ever admitted that to the man’s face yet. Their friends continued to lovingly joke about their “Dadzawa” but Izuku knew that his teacher had done more for him than anyone else in his life, especially Midoriya Hisashi. 

A man should want to tell their pseudo-father figure they were planning on proposing to their partner, right? Especially if their partner was the man’s adopted son. Izuku wanted to tell him that reasoning, how Shouta had never steered him wrong, maybe ask Shouta about his and Hizashi’s proposal, but a knock on the balcony door stopped their conversation. 

Hizashi mock-pouted from the doorway, mirth and excitement dancing in his expression. Shouta raised an eyebrow in silent question when he noticed how red the blonde’s eyes were. 

“You guys finished? I made strawberry shortcake and I think Hitoshi is about to steal all of it.” 

“Lies!” Came a muffled voice from inside, interspersed by the sound of a spoon on a plate. 

Knowing how futile it was to stand in the way of the one dessert Hitoshi actually enjoyed, Shouta and Izuku both laughed and followed Hizashi inside. Izuku beelined for his boyfriend, jokingly demanding he save a piece, while Shouta caught his husband’s elbow and wordlessly demanded him to explain what had made him emotional. 

Izuku didn’t catch whatever conversation the two older men had--too busy with playfully wrestling the cake tin away from Hitoshi--but he didn’t miss the sharp bark of Shouta’s laughter. 

“Something funny?” Izuku asked when they joined the table. He victoriously scooped up a strawberry. Shouta and Hizashi just smirked and grinned respectively, the latter practically vibrating in his seat. Hitoshi sighed through his nose and took another large bite, pressing his thigh against Izuku’s. 

The rest of dessert was spent with easy conversation and a newly opened bottle of wine. Izuku made sure to note the label so he could get a bottle for his mom the next time she went with Mitsuki and Rei for a weekend trip. 

After hugging both men goodbye, Izuku and Hitoshi left the apartment with a bag full of leftover dessert Hizashi had forced on them. The late-night hour was nothing new to either hero. The air was crisp and the sky was cloudy, the empty streets creating their own little world as they walked.

Izuku swung their hands gently, a little tipsy from the wine and even warmer from the love of his life right next to him. He turned to the taller man to see if he wanted to cut through the park on their way home but the heavy clouds in the sky suddenly opened, drenching them immediately. Izuku yelped. 

“Damn,” Hitoshi cursed. He hunched his shoulders to protect his neck from the cold rain. He dragged Izuku closer and they hurried to the nearest building’s cover. 

They watched the rain from their shelter for several long seconds. Hitoshi scowled and pulled at his hoodie. He’d always hated the feeling of wet clothes. The underground hero glanced at his boyfriend to see Izuku curiously watching the sky with his cheeks still a little flushed. Hitoshi grimaced at the sudden chill in the air as well, knowing that Izuku’s arms ached in colder weather. He was debating offering Izuku his hoodie even if it was soaked until Izuku tugged on his hand. 

“Come on,” Izuku said, sidling to press in close to Hitoshi’s side, “we can take the express route.”

“In this rain?” Hitoshi asked, deadpan and slightly incredulous. There’d been many times that they’d taken “the express route” to get around, also known as Izuku’s quirk. “Yeeting through the sky,” as Denki had dubbed it in their third year. He’d mastered One for All enough that it was barely a thought for the man to fly across the city in seconds. They’d used it to get to disaster areas and incidents quickly. And maybe also if they were running late, but only their UA friends were allowed to tease them for it. 

“It’s that and be out of the rain quickly or walk for almost ten minutes and get wetter.” 

“No logic allowed,” Hitoshi said. “Alright, I’m down. We need to be somewhere warm, pronto.”

Izuku grinned. He bent down and suddenly scooped the taller man into his arms, holding him bridal-style. Even after their years together, the sudden intimacy made them both blush, Izuku especially hearing echoes of wedding bells with the weight of the ring still in his pocket. He dispelled the thought before adjusting his grip. 

“Hold on tight,” he warned like usual. Hitoshi glowered--more cranky cat at the indignity than actually being angry--before wrapping his arms around Izuku’s neck and resting his head on broad shoulders. 

“Onward, noble steed,” he snarked. 

Izuku giggled and squeezed Hitoshi tighter to his chest. Luckily they were close enough to their apartment building that it was only a second of orienting himself and activating Full Cowl. 

The rush of power and weightlessness took both of their breath away. They didn’t register the rain as they flew through the air.  In mere moments, they were landing on the sidewalk in front of their complex. Izuku jogged to the entrance, ducking beneath the doorway and carefully placing Hitoshi down. The man dragged a hand through his windswept hair until it almost resembled his hairstyle from when they’d first met. He shakily exhaled and smiled at Izuku, grabbing his hand to lead them up the stairs to their apartment door. 

Once inside, Hitoshi dropped his hoodie on the couch’s armrest and beelined for their bedroom. Izuku always argued with him that they had a perfectly good coat rack; Hitoshi typically sniped back about his red sneakers being left in random places in the apartment. Izuku shook his head to dispel the wet bangs in his face and went into the bathroom to grab towels. 

“Bring me some clothes too!” He called, Hitoshi yelling back an affirmative. He came back dressed in sweatpants and one of the novelty shirts Hizashi liked to gift to them. Hitoshi handed Izuku the matching shirt--a large purple “HE’S” to Hitoshi’s green “HIM’S” block print--and shorts. Izuku grinned and changed while Hitoshi scrubbed his own wet hair with a towel. The green-haired hero took over, more gentle in drying off his boyfriend. Izuku hummed when Hitoshi returned the favor and carefully toweled off his curls. 

“Love you,” Hitoshi said as they stared at each other in their small bathroom, towels draped over both of their heads. Izuku melted, smiling and kissing his partner. 

“I love you too.” 

Hitoshi scrubbed his hair one last time and hooked the towels over the rack to dry. He grabbed Izuku’s scarred hand and directed both of them to the living room. He turned their space heater on at full blast to chase away the last of the chills. They turned on the television and curled up on the couch, Hitoshi laying on Izuku’s front in their favorite cuddling position. Izuku shifted slightly to accommodate the extra bodyweight but Hitoshi’s chin dug into one of the bruises from his spar with Katsuki, causing him to hiss. 

Hitoshi frowned, and leaned up in order to let Izuku adjust. He patted his boyfriend’s chest once it was clear the man wouldn’t strain his neck or aggravate anything then returned to his position. Izuku smiled softly and threaded his fingers in Hitoshi’s messy purple hair, who sighed in pleasure against Izuku’s neck. 

Was it possible for a heart to burst from too much love? He’d have to ask Recovery Girl the next time he had tea with her. 

Izuku didn’t know how long they laid there, Hitoshi dozing against his chest while he half-heartedly watched a quirk documentary he’d seen a thousand times. Tostito strolled into the room and curled up in front of the heater, purring loudly. 

Simple as breathing, Izuku fell asleep blanketed by his boyfriend. When he woke up to the first rays of light coming through the living room windows, he found himself in the familiar position of a stiff neck but relaxed body. He groaned and glanced down but found Hitoshi calmly watching him, eyes half-open. Izuku was tempted to turn the tables and tease the other man for his own besotted look on his face; Hitoshi’s expression was soft and open, something he rarely showed anyone outside of Izuku or their family. 

Hitoshi whispered a quiet “good morning” and pressed a kiss against Izuku’s shirt after a minute of peacefully staring at each other. He carefully lifted himself up from his position and leaned over Izuku, gently kissing him on the lips before gracelessly flopping off the couch. Izuku choked on a laugh as he watched the typically stealthy man clamber up off the ground and drag his feet out of the living room. 

“Do you want me to make breakfast?” Izuku asked. He stretched his arms as he sat up, relishing the quick pop of his joints and then trying to tame his bedhead. They liked to alternate cooking food when they were both awake and off duty, a domestic routine Izuku could never get enough of. 

“Way ahead of you, babe,” Hitoshi replied. He came back and held up the plastic container with last night’s leftover strawberry shortcake. Izuku laughed and nodded, beckoning his boyfriend over and accepting a fork without worrying about the agency’s nutritionists or trainers. They sat shoulder to shoulder on the couch and passed the container between them, idly watching the news. Tostito curled up in Hitoshi’s lap to sniff at the container but the man held it out of reach. 

“Mm, here,” Hitoshi said absentmindedly. He held out a strawberry slice on a fork in front of Izuku’s face but was distracted by redirecting Tostito away from the food. 

Izuku leaned forward and accepted the bite. The movement made Hitoshi look up from him scritching the cat’s head. They made eye contact, Hitoshi’s gaze heating and sparkling with mischief. A bit of cake was stuck on the corner of his mouth, his hair was all over the place, and he had a fading yellow bruise on his cheekbone from patrol three nights ago. Izuku couldn’t love this man any more than he already did. 

I want to see this for the rest of my life, he thought. 

“Marry me,” He blurted. Hitoshi froze, fork still in the air. 

Damn it, Tenya was right about my impulse control, Izuku thought hysterically. He may have jumped the gun but in the face of the person who held his heart in the palm of his hands, he hadn’t been able to stop himself. 

So much for the romance! Might as well commit! 

“Wait, wait, hold on, I have a--wait, I have a ring,” He rambled and shot to his feet. He subconsciously activated his quirk and shot to their coat rack, grabbing the ring box in the pocket and booking it back to stand in front of the still stunned Hitoshi who had dropped the cake container. 

Izuku fidgeted in place for a second before taking a deep breath and dropping to one knee. Every half-realized daydream he’d had about proposing escaped him. Every romantic speech he’d been obsessing over since he first started looking at rings flew out of his mind. He blanked. 

“Um...please.” 

Hitoshi snorted. “Since you asked so nicely,” he wheezed, laughter lining the edge of his voice. His tone was more high-pitched than normal. 

He reached out to tightly grasp Izuku’s scarred hands. Neither mentioned how both of their hands shook. The underground hero cleared his throat once, twice. 

“How about I make you a deal? I’ll marry you, if you marry me.” And Hitoshi reached over to his discarded hoodie pocket to pull out a ring of his own. Izuku gasped in surprise. 

“Wait,” Izuku wheezed, throat restricting with emotion. “Huh?” 

“You always have to be first, huh, love?” Hiroshi teased, not making eye contact and blushing. 

“You were planning to propose?”

“If Inko hadn’t had work and Eri wasn’t invited to that sleepover last minute, I would’ve asked you last night,” Hitoshi sheepishly admitted. “I had the ring and everything.” 

The taller man’s face was growing redder and redder as Izuku stared at him, mouth agape. 

“Toshi,” Izuku breathed. Tears spilled over and he choked on a half-laugh, half-sob. He dropped his forehead to their clasped hands. “I showed your dad the ring last night.” 

“And I showed Pops,” Hitoshi admitted, voice watery. He also leaned forward and rested his head on Izuku’s hair. He squeezed scarred fingers. “Izuku, I love you so goddamn much. It was only a matter of time before I married you.” 

Izuku laughed and leaned back up, face close to Hitoshi’s and staring at him with devotion. “Not if I marry you first.” 

Hitoshi surged forward and captured his lips in a clumsy kiss as they couldn’t stop smiling. Tostito hopped off the couch when Hitoshi also fell to his knees on the floor. They were squished together between the couch and the coffee table but they paid no mind as they held each other close. 

“Does that mean we have a deal?” Hitoshi joked. His hand brushed over Izuku’s freckled cheek to wipe away his happy tears. 

“Toshi, it could only be you,” Izuku swore, eyes sparkling. “It’s always been you.” 

Hitoshi held up the ring once more. Izuku also offered the ring box that had fallen to the side in his surprise. 

“No matter what anyone says, we have perfect timing,” Hitoshi said. “We’re on the same wavelength, it’s a sign it’s meant to be.” He stared at the polished silver ring and brought up his shaking left hand. “Gonna put a ring on it?”

Izuku beamed. He grabbed Hitoshi’s hand and kissed his knuckles. He took the ring and reverently slid it on his now-fiance’s finger. Izuku was momentarily distracted by the sight and the fact that Hitoshi wants to marry him. 

“It’s perfect,” Hitoshi promised when he saw Izuku staring. He quickly wiped his own eyes before fumbling with the other ring. He kissed each of Izuku’s fingertips while he held up the gold band in his other hand. 

“Look,” he said, trying to display the engraving inside. 

“What the heart desires.” 

He smiled when he saw those words, Hitoshi’s voice echoing in the back of his head during their fateful match that first sports festival. After everything they’ve gone through together and as individuals, they’d found a home with each other. Some of their classmates might have been confused at their relationship in the beginning; random people on the street could describe their dynamic and work hours as odd. Neither of them were sure if they’d last when they first started working as official heroes, Izuku with building up his agency and climbing the ranks, Hitoshi with his long covert missions and prejudice from others about his quirk. Did they have enough time to devote to each other? Would they be able to love the other man the way they wanted to? 

But they couldn’t help what their hearts desired. 

“I love you, more than anything,” Izuku said as he sniffled. 

Hitoshi pulled Izuku close, enveloping him in his arms. Izuku hugged back with his heart in his throat and joy in his veins. 

“I love you too,” Hitoshi promised while ducking into his curly hair. 

Izuku squeezed his eyes shut to slow down his tears. He jolted a little when he realized something. “Your ring has an inscription too.” 

“Fuck, I want to read it but I don’t want to take this off. Ever.” 

Izuku pressed his smile into Hitoshi’s collarbone while he felt the man carefully remove his ring to peer at the inscription. Hitoshi’s breath hitched and he tightened his hold. 

“My heart, my home, my hero,” he repeated. 

“My everything,” Izuku said, fingers clutching Hitoshi’s shirt. 

A blissful moment passed in silence with both men holding each other close. Izuku melted into his fiance’s warmth. This was his forever and he couldn’t wait to get started. He wanted to see every second. He grinned to himself, bright and love drunk, absolutely sure Hitoshi’s face was the same. 

“...so it is a yes, right?” Hitoshi asked. 

Izuku laughed and surged, kissing Hitoshi and knocking them both to the floor, elbows hitting the furniture on the way down. 

“Yes.” 

They shared another kiss, grinning at each other and basking in the taste of strawberries. They had a forever to plan.