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Izuku sighs, shoving his face further into a warm stomach. The hand buried in his hair shifts, slightly, pressing gently along his scalp, warm and almost uncomfortably heavy. It's wonderful.
"Hey-hey, loves."
"Hizashi." Izuku, for his part, loudly grumbles a vague, wordless greeting of his own. Shouta's stomach heaves, briefly, with a snort of laughter. But the hand in his hair remains gentle, affectionate. Although it shifts to the side, briefly, which Izuku would be annoyed by except, a breath later, a kiss is being pressed to his curls, the scents of citrus and hair gel slipping into his awareness.
He loves his partners ever, ever so much.
They're talking to each other, then, Shouta's chest rumbling with a far more occasional few words than Hizashi's almost constant chattering, tone rising and falling, and Izuku can almost picture how he's gesturing, hands moving and face expressive, eyes warm. Shouta, he knows, will be listening attentively, even though he isn't responding much. It's a familiar balance, their usual dynamic, and Izuku silently revels in it.
Even after the voices fade out, Izuku remains calm, content. Shouta's lap is comfy, and no matter how hard it is to breathe directly into fabric, skin, and muscle, Izuku has very few preferred places to hide his face.
"Alright?" The question is soft, low, no pressure. Izuku just tangles his fingers more firmly in the thick hem of Shouta's hoodie and in the blanket that someone has draped over him at such point,
"Mmhm."
"You can nap if you want."
"Mm."
"Really, Izuku?" Shouta huffs, except it's far from annoyed or begrudging. It just makes Izuku more insistent,
"Mm."
"Fine, you've convinced me."
If he was more awake, Izuku would laugh at the easy acquiescence, the utter lack of protest; but as it is, he's just vaguely pleased with himself for getting Shouta to nap with him, even if he didn't say any actual words to do so. Or maybe doubly so.
Either way, Izuku lets himself be shifted as Shouta slumps deeper on the sofa, getting comfy. It leaves Izuku with his ear pressed to the bottom of Shouta's ribs, a faint reverberation of a steady heartbeat making it well worth the brief disturbance. The hand in his hair is still there, even heavier than before, but Izuku's okay with that. It's comfy. Safe, held gently against Shouta, knowing that one of his partners is right here.
(Shouta is breathing, heart-beating, alive. And that means the world to Izuku, gives him a reassurance he fiercely needs. He failed two people in his patrol last night, two people that he unfolded white handkerchiefs to cover the faces of, trying to ignore how blood and viscera started to seep through below the brow for one of them, who he couldn't tell the families of because his patrol was already meant to be over and it was going to take too long to contact them for him to feasibly do it.
And, well, at that point the victims' blood was still spattered on him, caught under his nails despite his attempts at scrubbing it away; it wouldn't have been the best sight for any family.
But Shouta is here, and he's alive. Izuku gets to cherish his loved ones still, and he couldn't be more grateful for that fact.)
Exhausted, comfortable, comforted, Izuku lets himself sleep, then. Everything's okay again.
His dreams are not sweet, but they are calm. There is a faint awareness throughout it all, through the amorphous shapes and the vague sensations, that he is still safe, that he isn't alone. It's enough that nightmares cannot descend, no swamping chill or too-tight terror; Izuku is content.
Blinking heavily, Izuku registers that there's a gentle, slender hand on his shoulder, not shaking or grabbing, just resting there, pressing lightly. Hizashi's always-beautiful humming is a sweet step into wakefulness.
"M'wake," he slurs, bringing up the hand that isn't dead underneath him to grasp up at Hizashi, catching warm skin and a bracelet. The beads shift and clack beneath his fingertips. The familiar sensation has him smiling against Shouta's ribs.
"You don't sound terribly awake," Hizashi murmurs, utterly fond. (It's yet another noise that makes up Izuku's concept of home, so often a promise or compliment or teasing comment.)
"I am," he manages, turning enough that he can squint into the just-light living area, lit mostly by the street lights two floors below and a single warm-toned light in the corner of the room.
It must be quite late already. But that's okay, he thinks, as he lets Hizashi help him to sit up, sleep-caught limbs a little too slow to respond. That isn't a problem either though, with Hizashi and Shouta with him.
"-nearly ready, if you want to wash up." Izuku just tilts forward enough to kiss the nearest bit of skin available to him, partway up Hizashi's arm in this case, and murmurs a gratitude. Shouta snorts, but his hand is braced, gentle, warm, around Izuku's shoulder, even though the taller man is also half-asleep still.
Hizashi grins down at them both, silly and adoring.
None of them move for a long few breaths, before Hizashi visibly shakes himself,
"Right, come on, movement loves!" Shouta and Izuku grumble at that, half-heartedly so, before starting to get up, Izuku bumping their hips together in tacit acknowledgement as they both leave to wash their hands and wake up a bit.
Izuku, for his part, goes to the kitchen sink, as Shouta is headed for the loo, smiling at Hizashi, who is busy taking the curry off of the hob, the scent of warm spices a pleasant promise of a good meal to come.
"How's your day been, Precious?" He doesn't miss how Hizashi's expression, as per usual, goes all molten, slightly flustered, at that nickname, even years and years into Izuku using it. It's sweet.
"It was good, thank you! Got all set up for the Trapler interview tomorrow, and helped the new intern get settled in. You'd love her Quirk!"
They chatter happily for the next minute or three, talking briefly about the heroes and Quirks that Hizashi has seen during the day; bringing home this sort of information and stories is much like when he brings nutrient pouches or cat fridge magnets for Shouta, a little gift to show Hizashi's love for them. Izuku treasures them greatly.
But soon the food is served and everyone is back in the living area. As they all sit down, Shouta only a pace behind them, Hizashi briefly reaches forward to touch Izuku's wrist, a casual skinship that is forever appreciated, offering a smile,
"Thank you for starting dinner, Izuku."
"Of course. Sorry I didn't finish it-"
"You patrolled for nine hours last night," Shouta huffs. And, well, Izuku isn't going to argue with that. It's an objective truth.
"And hey, you got our kitty-cat to sleep too. Almost two whole hours, even!" Hizashi chirps, the tone bright and cheery but the sincerity in his eyes a familiar warmth.
Izuku, thoughtless, shifts to cup Hizashi's cheek against his own callused palm, letting his thumb brush back and forth gently there, glad when his partner tilts into it, red eyes fluttering shut. His golden eyelashes, thick and bright, settle like twin fans, rubies buried beneath their surfaces.
He almost misses, after a few seconds, the achingly long breath that slips out of Hizashi's lips, slow, trembling, yet ultimately leaving him more relaxed, head resting heavily in Izuku's hand. It's sweet, to say the least. (Shouta, beside them, watches this little tableau with a tiny smile and a molten heart, filled with a heliotrope-blooming sort of delight at the sight of his partners so content together.)
"Early night tonight?" he asks, more of a request than a suggestion per se. Fortunately, neither Hizashi nor Shouta seem particularly inclined to argue with that.
"My shift doesn't start until ten tomorrow."
"And I don't have much marking to do," Shouta adds on. They share soft smiles, then. It's a plan, they all know. And, hey, Izuku will always be very glad for extra cuddles with Hizashi and Shouta.
"It's a plan then," Izuku decides, blatantly pleased with himself, until he glances down at his bowl,
"And we'd better eat our tea!" The abrupt change earns him laughter. (The sound of it brings Izuku so, so much joy, a ridiculous amount of it really, because he just wants his partners happy and whole and heart-full, so even the tiniest bit of amusement means the world.)
An early night does indeed end up the plan, for it's not even two hours later that they're all settling into bed. Izuku sinks contentedly into Hizashi's arms, bending his head just enough to be able to press his forehead to the sharp slope of a collar bone.
From behind him, Shouta slides into bed as well, draping himself over Izuku's back, heavy and close enough that half of his limbs end up over Hizashi as well. Izuku's breathing is maybe a little bit laboured, like this, but it's entirely worth it. Everything is body heat and cool night air and hands that settle gently wherever they can reach, helping to keep each other close, as though their leaning into eacho ther doesn't already do so.
There is nothing more perfect than this, and nobody Izuku loves more.