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Truly, Aizawa should have seen it coming. Izuku had dark marks under his eyes. That wasn't entirely abnormal for the kid, or for any of them in the hero course. But this looked different. Even his freckles were looking a little pale. Instead of his usual rambling under his breath, the boy was rubbing his eyes and staring down at his text books.
Then at lunch, he had only stared down at a bowl of miso, and taken one or two bites of plain rice. He hadn't touched the carton of chocolate milk that he thought neither of his adults knew he liked to sneak when he was big. Even in Present Mic's class, he only stared at the board with glassy eyes instead of trying to answer questions.
Aizawa and Yamada had shared a glance in the hallway. It was one of the perks of being married, being together so long, Shouta thought. They could say so much with just a little. Both of them knew that they were going to have a sick boy on their hands tonight. And if he didn't come of his own free will, they might have to force him.
It was never pretty when Izuku had to be forced.
When the last bell rang, he glided quietly down the aisle to where the Problem Child had his arms folded on his desk. He put his hand on top of his hair, stroked back some of the unruly curls. His hand went down to his neck, then the back pressed against his forehead. Of course the kid had a fever. He sighed.
“Midoriya,” he said gently. “Come on, wake up.”
“Ten minutes.” he mumbled.
“If you get up and get your jacket now, you can sleep for as long as you like at home.” he coaxed. “I bet Papa would even warm up your jammies for you. I'll take a nap with you while dinner gets made. And then you can have a bubble bath.”
“Yes,” the boy breathed, his eyes dreamy. Aizawa had to confess that he loved that look on him. He loved knowing that it finally meant Izuku was calm, his anxieties and insecurities tucked away, kept at bay. He scrubbed at his eyes with his hands. His fingers drifted towards his mouth, ready to hook into his lips.
“Ah ah ah,” Aizawa caught his wrist. “That's yucky. I know you don't feel good, but you can't suck fingers. I don't have your paci, but as soon as we get home--.”
“It's fine!” that dreamy quality had snapped away, replaced with panic. Izuku scrambled to stand up. “Sorry, sensei, I didn't mean to fall asleep. I'm fine, everything is fine.” he coughed, his cheeks red although it was hard to say if the fever or if he was just embarrassed. Aizawa just frowned.
“I think we both know that you would be better served to come home with me. Papa's waiting.” he coaxed. He only whipped out that name for his husband when they really wanted the boy to go down, or when he was already down low. But the stubborn little thing just shook his head, gathering up his notebooks and stuffing them into that hideous bag.
“I don't need that. But thank you for the offer! I'll see you in class tomorrow.” he coughing, covering his mouth with his elbow. He sniffled, his nose sounding congested and painful. He tried to scurry on past his teacher. The care giver easily caught him by the elbow. Izuku whined as he tried to shake him off.
“I'm big!”
“You're sick,” Aizawa corrected. “Papa and I could both tell. So you can either come with Daddy now, like a good boy, or I can drag you. You really don't like it when I drag you.” he reminded. Izuku made another fussy sound in his throat.
Poor baby doesn't even realize he's more than halfway there.
“Not sick.” he protested. “I'm a big boy, and I have to go do homework. I might have a headache, but that's nothing a little--.”
“Izuku Midoriya,” his voice had that stern quality that all students and any little people he knew listened to. It would make them freeze in place, turn to him with wide eyes. Today wasn't any different. He held his elbow a little tighter.
“You're not making good choices right now, and that's very disappointing.”
“Daddy,” he hissed. “Anyone could hear us.”
“Then you'd better do what I said because I have to scold you, hmm?” his arm was released and Aizawa gathered up his own things. Izuku stood there, arms crossed, pouting. His care giver didn't comment on it. It must have been bordering on overwhelming for him, he thought, to not feel good and fight your headspace and just not want to.
Izuku trudged along behind him, back to the teacher dorms. He put one hand on the small of the little's back, guiding him inside. Sure enough, as soon as they stepped in, Hizashi swooped in, picking up the boy, whose head found space in his Papa's neck.
“Poor little boy, you don't feel good, huh? I know, we can make it all better.” he was walking him towards their bedroom.
“'M big,” Izuku protested That was a hard sell, he knew, when he was scrubbing at his eyes with his fist, and every breath seemed to be punctuated by a cough. His uniform was being peeled off him. He shivered as a thermometer was popped under his tongue.
“Oh? Well, then indulge me and let me medicate you before we send you on to your own room, okay? It really makes me feel better.” Hizashi nodded. How did he manage so well, Shouta wondered, leaning in the doorway of the bathroom.
Of course, both of the caregivers knew that there was no way he was big. He would be protesting being stripped down to his All Might undies, if that were the case. Instead, he stood still until the thermometer beeped. Hizashi clicked his tongue.
“That's too high, little listener.”
Izuku didn't respond, just kept blinking heavily. Shouta stepped in and sat on the bed. Sure enough, the little boy came and sat in his lap, winding his arms around his neck. He rubbed his little boy's back, pleased when at least he didn't feel any wheeze with his breathing. No pneumonia, he hoped. Just a cold that would mean a snuggly little.
“Nice warm pajamas for my baby.” Hizashi sang as he stepped in. He helped the boy put them on without having to get off his Daddy's lap. Then, a syringe of medicine was pulled out.
“Noo,” Izuku whined. “It's yucky.”
“A little,” Shouta agreed. “But then you'll feel so much better. We can have our snuggly nap like I told you.” he bribed.
Izuku's lips parted just a little bit. Before he could rethink it, Hizashi had the tip of the syringe in his mouth and was squirting it in. He boy swallowed and shuddered, shaking his head. He sought refuge buried in his Daddy's chest. Well, at any rate, maybe a good warm snuggle would help him break his fever.
He stood up and let his husband pull down the bedding. He laid down himself, the boy still clinging to him. The blankets were pulled up around them. Shouta brushed a kiss to his forehead, still burning up. Hopefully he'd feel better when he woke up and the meds had a chance to work.
“You gonna lay here with Daddy and take a rest?” Hizashi smoothed his hair back. Izuku's eyes were already drifting shut. A kiss was pressed to his head, then Shouta's. He snuggled down into the bed, happy to have his arms full of his problem child. Izuku was already falling asleep, breathing heavily through his mouth.
Hizashi switched off the light on his way out. Now it was optimal for sleeping, with the warm blankets and the darkness. He let out a content sigh.
“I'm sorry you're not feeling good, baby.” he whispered. “You'll feel better when you wake up. And if you don't, we'll stay with you until you do feel better.”