Work Text:
Katsuki was having a good day. The sun was out, he’d gotten a really good training session in, he’d beaten Icyhot’s ass and for the first time in months, all without getting out of breath – thanks impromptu open-heart-surgery on a battlefield. Eijirou, Kaminari, Ashido and Sero had bullied him into going for ice cream and it had actually been pretty nice to hang out on Dagobah beach again.
That being said, the good day came to an abrupt end with a single call.
“Naw, Bakubro, don’t pick that up!”, Ashido called. “This is quality time! Kiri, quick, kiss and distract him!”
Eijirou turned towards him, a hopeful look in his eyes. “Would you blow my face up if I did?”
“One hundred percent I fucking would”, Katsuki said and fished out his phone, only for a string of tape to snap around it and pull it away. “Damn it, Soy Sauce!”
“Quality time”, Sero said and taped up the phone until the ringing was barely heard. “Who could it be, anyway? Your parents?”
Like Katsuki wanted to talk to them. Ever since the fight against All for One that had thrown him onto death’s doorstep once again, they were hovering and called him randomly. Which was why he had a special ringtone for them and that one hadn’t been it.
“C’mon guys”, Eijirou said before Katsuki could explode and grabbed the phone from Sero, slicing the tape open on the side with a hardened fingertip. “Here ya go.”
Katsuki flipped Sero off and muttered a low “thanks” to his boyfriend before checking whose call he hadn’t been able to pick up thanks to his stupid gaggle of friends.
Well, fuck .
One missed call from Best Jeanist of all people. A vein popped up on his forehead.
“Oh shoot”, Kaminari said from where he’d peeked over Katsuki’s shoulder. “We totally let Best Jeanist go to voicemail.”
Ashido made an ‘eek’ sound and almost dropped her ice cream. “Yikes! Sorry, Bakugou.”
“You better be”, Katsuki muttered and was about to call back when a text message from Best Jeanist popped up. It was just an address here in Musutafu, with the added “penthouse floor. Now.’ Katsuki pushed his ice cream into Kaminari’s hands and stood. “Gotta go.”
“Be safe!”, Eijirou yelled just before he blasted off.
For Jeanist to reach out to him via phone call was unusual. Had Jeanist been apprehended by a villain in his own apartment? But why would he need Katsuki – Best Jeanist was still a top 10 hero, even following his injury and then later pregnancy.
Katsuki busted into the lobby of the address Jeanist had given him, holding up his Provisional Licence as means of identification to the doorman before getting on the lift and riding up to the penthouse floor. He’d thought about flying up and just blasting through the windows, but if Jeanist required stealth, then this would be best. His phone pinged again.
Best Jeanist: ETA?
Katsuki: on the lift. be there in 1min.
The lift doors opened and Katsuki rolled his shoulders, steadying himself for a potential fight as he stepped into the hallway and approached the front door to Jeanist’s apartment. He didn’t have his gear, so he’d be at a disadvantage, but with Jeanist, they could take down whatever small-fry villain thought it was a good idea to–
The door to Jeanist’s apartment was thrown open before Katsuki could finish the thought and sparks danced in the palms of his hands before he took in the scene in front of him.
Best Jeanist stood in the genkan, covered in baby powder and stains that Katsuki couldn’t and didn’t want to identify. There was a child calling “Mama! Mama!” in the background and Jeanist looked like he hadn’t slept in days, dark bags under his eyes, usually carefully coiffed hair a mess.
“Bakugou”, Jeanist breathed and Katsuki wrinkled his nose at the piercing scent of stress rolling off the older Omega in waves. Jeanist grabbed him and pulled him inside the apartment.
“What the–”, Katsuki started, stumbling over stray shoes in the genkan. “Where’s the villain?”
“There is no villain”, Jeanist said and stripped off his stained t-shirt, pulling on a clean black turtleneck that he apparently just had there, at the ready, on the sideboard. “Watch her. I can’t be here.”
And with that, Jeanist was out the door and gone.
Katsuki stared. What the hell had just happened?
“Mama! Mama!”
Katsuki turned around and spotted a baby in the high-chair of the open dining area, wriggling like some worm and slamming their hands on the table.
“Hakamata Shinra”, Katsuki muttered, remembering the name of Jeanist’s baby from one of their sparring sessions. “Oi! What are you fussing for!”
Shinra squealed highly and slammed both hands onto the table. “Watch her”. Jeanist hadn’t possibly dumped Katsuki with babysitting duty, had he?
“Fuck no”, Katsuki said and pulled out his phone, smashing the call icon on Jeanist’s contact info.
There was ringing coming from the living room and Katsuki turned to see a phone laying there, his own photo flashing on the screen with an incoming call. Katsuki ended the call and ground his teeth. Okay, so no work phone. Private, then.
It didn’t even ring once, went straight to voicemail. Katsuki stared at his phone and just barely kept himself from blowing it up. What the hell was that guy thinking?!
“Fuck you too”, Katsuki growled and called All Might.
“Yes? Young Bakugou?” , All Might’s tinny voice came through the speaker.
“Can you send a page to Jeanist”, he said. “Fucker left me to babysit his kid.”
“Oh!”, All Might had the audacity to sound delighted. “How is Young Shinra?”
“I don’t wanna know! I want her mom to get back here and I can’t reach him on either of his phones!”, Katsuki snapped and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m just provisional, I don’t have a pager, so I need you to do it for me.”
“Ah. I see”, All Might said. “I will page him, but Young Bakugou… if he left both his phones, it’s unlikely he took his pager.”
“Won’t know until we try”, Katsuki bit and resisted the urge to bite into his phone when he heard the ping from the genkan. And sure enough, there on the sideboard was Jeanist’s pager. Awe-fucking-some. “Nevermind. Thanks, I guess.”
“I’m sorry, Young Bakugou. Young Hakamata will surely return shortly”, All Might said.
Katsuki grunted in lieu of a response and hung up. So he had absolutely no way of getting in touch with Jeanist except maybe smoke signals and the guy had left him alone with his baby daughter to… what, get some coffee? He better had a good explanation ready or Katsuki was going to blow this place to smithereens.
“Guh!”, the baby – Shinra – made and stared at Katsuki like he had grown another head.
“What”, he muttered and stepped up to the high chair. Shinra blinked and squirmed in her seat. She had just eaten, if the bowl of empty mashed veggies was anything to go by. At least Jeanist had wiped the kid’s face and hands before making a run for it. Katsuki was so not cleaning a baby today, what the fuck.
Shinra squirmed again and made an unhappy noise. Katsuki scowled at her. Did she want out of the chair? Probably, right?
“Fucking hell”, he muttered and lifted the baby out of the high chair. “There. Happy, Jorts?”
She looked at him out of big grey eyes. Jeanist’s were green so that colour was from her father. At first glance, that seemed to be the only thing she shared with Edgeshot. Her hair was blond like Jeanist’s and her face was too generically baby to tell.
Shinra gurgled and gave him a gummy smile. Very helpful.
Katsuki had no idea what to do with babies. He had no younger siblings, no baby cousins and he sure as hell had never volunteered to babysit. Not when becoming the Number 1 hero was the goal. And he was only a second year high schooler so it wasn’t like he had friends popping out brats. Though the old hag was bothering him about his decision to not even think about kids before he turned 30 at least.
How old was Jeanist again? 38? So he’d had Shinra at 37, give or take a couple of months, probably. The kid had been born eight months after the final battle against All for One, long after her father’s death.
Katsuki’s chest ached at the thought, phantom pains welling up in his heart the way they sometimes still did. He knew Edgeshot wasn’t still in his heart – surgeons had long removed what had remained of the former Number 4 and replaced him with actual sutures. Katsuki had vomited when he’d understood the reason as to why Edgeshot had been removed at all. Not because the suture wasn’t holding, Edgeshot had saved his life and he’d done a damn good job at making sure he was keeping it. No, Edgeshot had to have been removed because he’d started to rot. Paperthin or not, Katsuki had carried a corpse in his heart.
Jeanist had been at the hospital then, Katsuki remembered that. The surgery had taken place not long after Jeanist had found out he was pregnant and the mood had been dark, hopeless even, despite their victory against All for One. Jeanist had looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks and left the hospital with Edgeshot’s remains – a single thread, he’d been told – in a small urn. Katsuki had hated himself.
Months of intense therapy later, he now knew better than to blame himself, but the guilt remained. It would never be gone, he’d have to learn to live with it, accept it, cope with it in healthy ways. In the beginning, it had seemed impossible – how could he live with the guilt that his mentor’s mate had sacrificed himself to save Katsuki’s life? Sacrificed Jeanist’s future with him and, unknowingly, sacrificed Edgeshot’s own chance at meeting his daughter?
It had gotten better over time. Katsuki still felt guilt, of course. But keeping in touch with Jeanist had helped both of them. Their relationship had normalised, as normal as it had ever been, anyway. Aside from their professional mentor/protegé setting, they ended up talking about private things as well: Be it Jeanist’s feud with some overseas designer, Katsuki’s latest squabble with Eijirou, even fashion once in a while when Katsuki couldn’t be bothered to pretend he was clueless about the topic despite his parents working in the industry.
They talked about Jeanist’s kid sometimes too, but never too much. Katsuki knew just about the bare minimum about Shinra. Hell, he couldn’t even remember the kanji used to spell her name. He’d received the news of her birth when Jeanist had called to cancel their meetings for the next month. He’d seen maybe five pictures in total, never even met the kid personally before today. Jeanist was still his boss, after all, and one with the security of a top 10 Pro Hero.
Shinra blew spit-bubbles at him and kicked her chubby baby legs. Katsuki scowled and put the baby tummy down on a playmat in the living room area. She couldn’t crawl yet, could she? Katsuki eyed the baby warily, then grabbed his phone and called the only person he was sure knew how to handle an infant.
“Katsuki?”, the old man’s voice spoke up on the other end of the line. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”
“M’fine”, Katsuki said with a small pang of guilt at his mother’s worried voice. “You know baby stuff, don’t you?”
Mom paused. “Are you…?”
“No!”, Katsuki snapped and groaned. “I’m seventeen, jeez, no, I’m not knocked up! I’m stuck babysitting my mentor’s baby and I don’t wanna accidentally kill the slobbering thing or I can kiss my career fucking goodbye.”
He could hear Mom exhale in relief.
“Oh, that’s a relief”, he said. “Well, it’s been a while since I last handled a baby – seventeen years to be exact. But let’s see if I can help. How old is the kid?”
Katsuki should probably know that. “Uh, a year? Give or take a month, I guess?”
“Oh, so they can sit and crawl and have solid foods already, that’s good!”, Mom said and Katsuki whirled around.
“Did you say ‘crawl’”, he asked, heart in his throat. The playmat was empty.
“Yes, why?”
“Cause I lost the fucking baby, Mom!” Katsuki put his phone on speaker and all but dove under the sofa. Nothing there, not even dust. The fact pissed Katsuki off. “Damn it! I didn’t look at her for like, five minutes, tops!”
“She’s just a year old, she can’t have gotten far.”
“Then why the fuck don’t I see her, huh?!”
“ Katsuki–”
Katsuki jumped to his feet and walked around the sofa. No baby there. How fast was that kid crawling?!
“Guh!”
Katsuki stopped and turned. “Say that again, Jorts?”
There was a squeal and Katsuki finally spotted the little bugger. Under the dining table, where he’d just fetched her, shoving fallen down mashed veggies into her mouth.
“Found her!”, Katsuki called, loud enough for his mom to hear.
“Oh, good!”, Mom called. “So, do you need any tips?”
“I think I’ll just keep an eye on the snot-monster, it can’t be that hard”, Katsuki said and wrangled the baby out from under the table. Was she supposed to eat off the floor? Probably not but Katsuki was not about to stick his fingers into her weird little baby mouth and fish stuff out, nasty.
Mom sounded like he was suppressing a grin. “Alright then. Take care. And call your dad, she’s getting antsy.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes and grabbed his phone. “Sure, yeah, bye.”
He hung up and tossed his phone back onto the sofa.
“Bye! Bah! Bye!”, Shinra blabbered, half-chewed veggies falling out of her mouth in the process. Katsuki held her as far away from him as possible and scowled.
“You’re disgusting”, he told her.
Shinra stared at him, eyes wide and unblinking. “Bah!”
Kill him now.
“Bah what”, he grumbled and put her back down on the playmat before taking a seat on the sofa. He picked up one of the jingling toys and shook it in front of her face. “I don’t speak Baby Blab, Jorts.”
Shinra grabbed the toy and promptly started chewing on it, getting spit everywhere. Katsuki grimaced at the slobber.
“Your mom better come back soon”, Katsuki said, “because I ain’t getting paid enough for this. Fuck, I don’t think he’s even paying me for this shit at all!”
“Fuck”, Shinra repeated and Katsuki stared. “Fuck!”
“Yeah, maybe forget that word”, he said. “I didn’t survive Kamino, Nine, Shigaraki and All for One for your mom to cut me up with denim threads for teaching his kid how to curse. Got it?”
Shinra obviously didn’t respond, only shook her saliva-covered toy in response.
Katsuki groaned. He needed an adult. No, not even that, even a kid would do. Anyone over the age of five, someone who could hold a conversation no matter how nonsensical. Shinra’s limited vocabulary of “bah”, “no”, “bye”, “mama” and apparently “fuck” was absolutely not sufficient to keep his brain activity going.
“Your mom didn’t do you any favours leaving you in my damn care, that’s for sure”, Katsuki muttered and nudged a toy with his foot. He’d taken off his shoes in the genkan, he wasn’t an animal. “Hear that? Repeat after me: Mama is an ass.”
Shinra perked up. “Mama?”
Ah. Fuck.
“Mama!”, Shinra called and her bottom lip started trembling when no one came running. “Mama!”
Oh hell no .
Katsuki winced when Shinra started crying, the volume rising rapidly into an all-out wail.
“Aw, fuck”, he swore and shook some more jingling toys. “Look, Jorts! Play with stuff! What’s better than that shit!”
Shinra’s earlier fascination with her jingling toys had apparently stopped because she slapped the toys out of Katsuki’s hands and continued wailing. Fucking rude. She looked pathetic, face flushed red, patchy with the tear tracks on her chest.
“Ugh”, Katsuki groaned. All because he hadn’t kept his big fucking mouth shut and said ‘mama’. The kid hadn’t had a problem with ‘mom’, for fuck’s sake. “Jorts, c’mon.”
Obviously, that did nothing. Katsuki was becoming a little concerned with how red Shinra was turning, though. Was she still breathing? He reached over to tweak her nose but all that got him was a ringing in his ears when she screeched in affront. That had backfired.
“Hey, look”, he said and fished out his phone, rapidly typing ‘Best Jeanist interview’ into the search bar on YouTube. “Look, here he is. Here’s your mom. Uh, your mama.”
He tapped on a studio-setting video (battlefield interview wouldn’t do just now) and cranked the volume to the max, hoping that there wasn’t going to be some annoying ass ad before the video.
The interviewer, a young woman with bright pink hair, spoke first: “Best Jeanist, welcome! We’re glad to have you.”
And then the camera panned to the interviewee and Jeanist spoke: “Thank you. I am glad to be here.”
Shinra stopped crying as if someone had hit a button. She stared at Katsuki, sniffling. Katsuki, in turn, stared at his phone.
‘Can’t believe that fucking worked’, he thought.
Shinra made grabby hands at him. “Up! Up!”
Oh, another word. Katsuki complied, lest the brat turn on him and start howling again.
“Mamamamamama”, Shinra babbled and tried to grab Katsuki’s phone with her saliva-covered fingers.
“Hell no”, Katsuki said and held it just out of reach, but turned on full-screen. Shinra gurgled happily – or at least he hoped it was a happy sound.
They went through two interviews before Katsuki was a little sick of hearing Jeanist’s voice. Shinra, however, was happier than ever. He had briefly contemplated playing an old Edgeshot interview too, but what good would do that? Katsuki would feel guilty and it wouldn’t do anything for Shinra. She’d never even heard her father’s voice in utero, she’d barely been a clump of cells by the time he’d died.
“You know”, Katsuki muttered. “Your dad was pretty cool. Saved my life.”
Shinra clapped her hands together. Katsuki grinned.
“Yeah, he deserved the applause”, he said and rubbed his sternum. “Didn’t know what he’d sacrificed then. Neither did your mom, though.”
Shinra didn’t answer. Of course she didn’t, she was like one year old. She didn’t ask “and how does that make you feel?” like his therapist did. She just listened. Or heard. Probably not quite enough cognitive function to actively listen yet. Fuck if Katsuki knew.
“If it hadn’t been for your dad, I would’ve fucking bled out”, he said. “Your mom saved me plenty before. He’s pretty badass when he’s not dumping babysitting duty on me. So, uh, I guess I owe my life to both your parents.”
Shinra squealed when Best Jeanist in the currently running interview laughed.
“I’m sorry you’ll only ever meet one of them, you know”, Katsuki said and part of him felt beyond stupid for pouring his heart out to a literal fucking baby, and part of him relished at the catharsis it brought. “I didn’t even know Edgeshot – Kamihara – that well. He just went and saved me anyway because he was a real hero.”
He glanced at the baby on his lap.
“Yeah and maybe because he knew I was your mom’s favourite intern”, he said. “Who knows. It’s not like I can ask him. He died within minutes of fixing my heart. I wasn’t even conscious yet.”
‘And then he rotted in my body’, he thought and rubbed his sternum again.
“Maybe you have his Quirk”, Katsuki told the kid. “Would set you apart from the Jeanist carbon copy you are right now, Jorts. You don’t even have his name. Guess it didn’t make sense giving you a dead name, huh?”
Shinra tried to grab his phone again and made an unhappy sound when Katsuki held it out of her reach. He didn’t have the WiFi password and he was definitely making Jeanist pay for all the data he was using up here.
“I’m turning you into an iPad kid”, Katsuki said and hoped Jeanist was a no-screens-policy mom.
The current interview was thirty minutes long, but Shinra fell asleep a little over twelve minutes in, on Katsuki’s lap, her back to his front.
“Damn it”, he muttered and dropped his phone onto the sofa to turn the sleeping baby around so he could somewhat hold her. Shinra sniffed, but didn’t stir. Lucky.
Katsuki couldn’t place her on the sofa, dumb kid would roll right off or something. He stood and walked down the hallway, careful not to jostle the sleeping brat. There was a nursery, but no crib – just toys, a changing table, a playmat, a rocking chair, a wardrobe. Probably filled with denim.
So that meant her crib was probably in Jeanist’s room.
Katsuki chewed on the inside of his cheek. He knew that wasn’t unusual, it was pretty common for babies to share their parents’ room for the first year of life, to get them used to their scents and all. The door to what he presumed was Jeanist’s bedroom was closed and he felt uncomfortable intruding into an older Omega’s nest. It was partly instinctual, partly common fucking decency: A bedroom was off limits to visitors.
Katsuki glanced at the sleeping baby currently drooling onto his shirt and felt a vein pop up at his temple. Fucking nasty.
He could probably sit on the sofa or in the rocking chair with the kid, but then he’d basically be immobilised and would probably go insane within the first five minutes.
“Fuck it”, he muttered and marched up to the closed door where Jeanist’s bedroom must be located.
Before he could open the door, his nerves caught up with him again. Nope, no way was he entering Best Jeanist’s bedroom, even if it was to put the man’s sleeping baby to bed. Katsuki wasn’t huge on manners, at least with his peers, but this was something that sat wrong with him. It would be an intrusion and his parents had raised him better than that.
Fuck. Sofa it was.
Katsuki was sitting on the sofa, playing around on his phone while glancing at the still sleeping child laying next to him. It had been a little over an hour since she’d fallen asleep and all she was doing was moving around a bit, sniffling and farting. And fuck, did those farts stink.
Still, it was rather quiet in the apartment which was why Katsuki almost jumped off the couch when the front door beeped and opened.
“Bakugou?”, Jeanist called and Katsuki shushed him almost aggressively when Shinra’s face scrunched up at the noise. He climbed off the sofa and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“If you wake her”, he said darkly. “I’ll blow up your fucking wardrobe.”
Jeanist stared at him, expression unreadable. He still looked tired and his eyes were red-rimmed, almost like he’d been crying. His hair was a mess and that was what almost ticked Katsuki off, remembering being tied to a chair while the older Omega tried to tame his explosive hairstyle.
Instead of replying, Jeanist walked over to where his daughter was sleeping and scooped her up in one smooth, careful movement that made Katsuki’s jaws grin with how easy he made it look. He’d almost dropped the kid twice today with her squirming. Katsuki didn’t give a rat’s ass about kids, but he did give a rat’s ass about being the best. At everything. Including holding babies. How hard could it be? Very, he’d learned, but Jeanist made it look so damn easy, the bastard.
“Thank you”, Jeanist said and the soft sincerity in his voice caught Katsuki off guard.
“Whatever”, he hissed. “Don’t dump that on me again and fuck off with no way of reaching you. I’m not your fucking babysitter.”
Jeanist nodded and pressed his nose into Shinra’s hair, eyes closed as he breathed.
“I’m sorry for springing this on you so suddenly”, he said quietly. “I will put her to bed. I’ve ordered takeout. Please stay for dinner. I owe you an explanation for today at least.”
Katsuki wanted to flip him off and march out but something about Jeanist’s demeanour made him pause.
“What did you order”, he asked instead.
Jeanist gave a wry smile. “Extra spicy katsudon for you.”
Katsuki harrumphed. Of course Jeanist would remember his favourite food. “Fine.”
Jeanist had put his kid to bed and takeout arrived not long after, leading to them now sitting at Jeanist’s dinner table in silence over steaming takeout containers.
Katsuki was pretty hungry, now that the food was there, so he’d dug right in, only registering on the side that Jeanist was only poking around in his food.
“Has she caused any trouble?”, the Fiber Hero asked.
“Other than slobbering over all her stuff and my fucking shirt?” Katsuki pointed to the dried drool spot. “Nah.”
Jeanist hummed. “I suppose that’s good. She can be… demanding.”
Katsuki arched an eyebrow. “That why you fucked off without a word for three hours?”
Jeanist flinched and Katsuki paused. Was that a sore spot? How? Katsuki had literally been the one left with a random kid to look after for three hours.
“I behaved irresponsibly and unfairly towards both you and Shinra today”, Jeanist said, a twist to his mouth. “And for that I apologise, Bakugou.”
He bowed his head and Katsuki squirmed in his seat. Best Jeanist had never yelled at Katsuki the way Dad did, but he’d never backed down like Mom either. His mentor had just stood firmly, unshaken by Katsuki’s hissy fits and tantrums and explosions. It was uncomfortable seeing him bow to him.
“It’s fine”, he grumbled, if only to get Jeanist to lift his head. He was still pissed about being on babysitter duty, but clearly, there was something bigger going on behind the scenes. “But are you gonna tell me what had you dropping your kid like a hot potato?”
Jeanist smiled wryly. “I suppose I owe you that, don’t I?”
He didn’t owe Katsuki anything. Jeanist’s mate, the father of his child, had given his life for Katsuki’s. There was nothing Jeanist could ever owe him.
“It’s her birthday tomorrow”, Jeanist said simply, lacing his fingers together on the table. “And with that, the anniversary of me truly realising Shinya was gone.”
Oh.
Katsuki stilled.
“I’m sure they’re not beating around the bush in biology classes”, Jeanist said. “They didn’t back when I was at U.A., so I assume you are familiar with the trauma of childbirth?”
Katsuki frowned. “It’s a pretty gruesome fucking concept, yeah.”
There wasn’t even the twitch of a smile.
“It is”, Jeanist said. “Even more so if gone through alone, in the aftermath of a broken bond.”
Guilt settled in Katsuki’s stomach like a heavy rock.
“Please don’t feel guilty”, Jeanist said and met Katsuki’s eyes for the first time this dinner. “I– I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty, it was never your fault to begin with and–”
“But if you could go back and change it”, Katsuki heard himself say. “You would.”
Jeanist’s face twisted into a pained grimace. “I have given it thought. But I come to the same conclusion every time – Shinra would have never even been born if Shinya hadn’t fixed your heart and saved you, because All for One would have killed us all if not for you and Midoriya.”
Katsuki stared at his katsudon.
“Still”, Jeanist said. “Realising that it had been a year since I was able to properly mourn my mate, it… it hit me out of nowhere. I checked the calendar and realised her birthday was tomorrow and I couldn’t be here anymore.”
Jeanist sighed and unlaced his fingers. “I never moved. And while I’m not one for plastering my home with family photos, everything here reminds me of Shinya nevertheless. Including our daughter. And I had to go. Just for a while, get out of this relic.”
“Where did you go?”, Katsuki asked.
“My therapist’s office”, Jeanist said with a wry smile. “The perks of being a high-ranking hero, people always make time for you.”
“I fucking guess”, Katsuki muttered and poked around in his food.
“I’m sorry for calling you”, Jeanist said. “It will not happen again, Bakugou.”
Katsuki shrugged. “It’s fucking fine. Jorts is alive, I didn’t fuck up too badly.”
Jeanist arched his visible eyebrow. “Jorts?”
“Your kid.”
Jeanist made a face that was a mix of disgust and horror. “Do not call her that.”
Katsuki grinned. “Yeah? I’ll call her that even harder.”
“Childish”, Jeanist said with a sigh and picked up his chopsticks again. “I assume it’s on the luckier side of nicknames, knowing you.”
“Damn straight it is”, Katsuki said.
“I still dislike it.”
“Tough fucking luck.”
Jeanist huffed out a small laugh. “Stop swearing and eat, Dynamight.”
Eijirou barely even blinked when Katsuki threw his dorm room door open and stomped inside.
“Lights out is in twenty, you barely made it”, Eijirou said without looking up from his phone. “Iida was getting antsy.”
“Robocop can fuck off”, Katsuki said and kicked the door shut behind him.
“Yo”, Eijirou said and sniffed. “Why do you smell like baby?”
“The fuck do you mean?”, Katsuki muttered and dropped onto Eijirou’s bed unceremoniously, throwing both legs over his boyfriend’s lap.
“You smell like baby”, Eijirou repeated like Katsuki hadn’t heard him the first time. “Wait–”
Eijirou grabbed Katsuki’s leg and Katsuki hissed at the cold of his hands.
“I’m up to date on my birth control shots, are you?!”, Eijirou asked, voice bordering on shrill and Katsuki threw a pillow in his face.
“I’m not knocked up, dumbass!”, he snarled. “Jeez! First the old man, now you!”
“I’m sorry!”, Eijirou wailed.
“Do you even know what pregnant Omega smells like, knothead? Not like baby”, Katsuki muttered. “I just babysat some kid today.”
Eijirou stared. “That makes even less sense. Why would you babysit?”
“Not voluntarily”, Katsuki said and shrugged Eijirou’s hands off. “Your hands are cold.”
“Whoops”, Eijirou said and stopped rubbing Katsuki’s bare ankle. “But what do you mean, not voluntarily? Oh, was it a lost kid on patrol?”
“Nah”, Katsuki said and knocked his head back against Eijirou’s wall. “Jeanist dumped his kid on me and went AWOL for three hours. He went through some personal shit today and I couldn’t reach him, so I hung out with Jorts until he came back.”
Eijirou snorted. “Jorts?”
“It’s a good fucking nickname, Shitty Hair!”, Katsuki said with a grin and reached over to ruffle Eijirou’s obnoxious red hair.
“Couldn’t the kid’s dad look after them?”, Eijirou asked and attempted to fix his hair. “Why you? Don’t tell me because you’re an Omega.”
“Nah”, Katsuki said. “I’m about as nurturing as a fucking block of clay.”
“It’s okay, I got more than enough nurturing for both of us!”, Eijirou announced. “But seriously. Why you?”
Katsuki’s grin faded in favour of a firm set to his jaw. “Edgeshot was the kid’s dad. So there’s no second parent in the picture right now.”
Eijirou’s grin turned sombre. “Oh.”
“Guess Jeanist called me because I’m at his every beck and call as his work student and I know the whole story”, Katsuki said and fiddled with his phone. He knew if he unlocked it, it would play the last Best Jeanist interview he’d played to keep Shinra from screaming his ear off. “I don’t even fucking know. He apologised for dipping, bought me dinner to make up for it.”
“Huh”, Eijirou said, “that doesn’t sound like Best Jeanist. From what you’ve told me.”
“You think I wouldn’t recognise an impostor?!”, Katsuki bristled and pulled his legs back.
“Duh, of course you would”, Eijirou said, undeterred by Katsuki’s snapping. “Just… guess he was really dealing with some shit. He doesn’t seem like the type to leave his kid with some inexperienced teenager and fall off the grid for a few hours.”
Katsuki wanted to argue, but yeah, in that regard, he really was an inexperienced teenager. “I guess.”
Thinking about what Jeanist had told him over dinner made his mood turn dark and he had too much unused energy from the day.
“I sat around half the day cleaning up baby slobber”, Katsuki said and slid off the bed to stretch. “Going for a run. You coming?”
“It’s almost lights out. Iida–”
“What’s Robocop gonna fucking do, catch us?”
“Yeah, actually! Running’s his whole schtick, remember!”
“You saying you not up for the challenge?”
“Dream on, Kats!”
Katsuki woke up the next morning far before his alarm to his phone vibrating with a message.
“Ugh”, he groaned and grabbed the device, about to block whoever thought it was cool to text before 6am on a Saturday, only to see it was a message from Best Jeanist.
Katsuki rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his dorm room coming into focus, and opened the message.
It was a photo. Specifically, a photo of Jeanist’s kid in jorts, grinning gummily. That already made him smug, but the caption damn near made him cackle.
Best Jeanist: My daughter greeted me with the word “fuck” today. Care to explain?
Katsuki: no face no case
Katsuki: tell the gremlin happy birthday
Best Jeanist: oh, is it your birthday?
Katsuki stared at his screen, unable to come back with a comeback that didn’t include cussing his mentor out. Best Jeanist was back to his normal self, alright.
Best Jeanist: there is cake. Should I save you a slice?
Katsuki: what flavour
Best Jeanist: cheesecake.
Katsuki: i’ll be there at 4
Best Jeanist: don’t forget to bring a gift :)
Katsuki: my presence is a gift
Best Jeanist: yes, it is.
Katsuki muted his phone and shoved it under his pillow.
The guilt over Edgeshot was still there. Probably would never leave, but that was okay. But Katsuki would be taking a screenshot of this chat to look at when he forgot to remember.