Chapter Text
It took Izuku nearly five minutes of walking before realising that he didn’t know where he was going. He turned around to face his dad sheepishly. He pointed back at the direction he had been walking.
“So, uh… is this the right way?”
Shota held a deadpan look at his son whose smile grew increasingly more strained as the silence went on.
Then, he smirked, and gently bapped Izuku’s head with a fist. “You just got lucky, brat.”
Izuku deflated in relief, and released a nervous laugh.
Shota raised his eyebrows at Izuku. “What’s got you so distracted? You usually only get this swept up in your head when you do analysis.”
Izuku looked off to the side in thought, then shook his head. “Nothing. Nothing…” He trailed off unconvincingly.
They walked in silence for a bit before Shota broke it. “I know you agreed to it on the train, but you don't have to see Hizashi and Nemuri today, you know.”
Izuku froze for a millisecond, before his eyes narrowed in determination. “No.” He shook his head. “I still want to see them.”
Shota reached out a hand and lightly ruffled the top of Izuku’s head.
Izuku resumed idly chatting, as he had been since they got off the train, and before long, Shota could see his apartment on the horizon. He pointed it out to Izuku in a murmur. Izuku nodded in his peripheral vision.
After a moment of stillness, Shota felt a hand grip his. He gripped it back. Izuku didn’t speak.
They made no move towards the apartment, but Izuku’s gaze didn’t stray from it either.
“When…” Izuku asked shakily, “When was it destroyed?”
Shota felt himself suck in a breath, and tightened his grip on Izuku’s hand again for a minute.
He’s never been super attached to his apartment, but…
“A month in, after the prison break. Shortly before UA fell.”
Izuku exhaled. “Oh.”
Shota let go of Izuku’s hand to instead bring Izuku into a side hug. He kept his arm tightened around Izuku’s shoulders. “It’s just an apartment to me, Izuku.”
Finally, he loosened his grip on Izuku to move in front of him, and put a hand on both of Izuku’s upper arms. Izuku looked up at him with wide eyes. Shota smiled softly at Izuku. His kid was so young.
“I know things look really, really different now, Izuku.”
Izuku’s eyes strayed to the standing buildings and surrounding traffic.
“But kid…” he let go of an arm to gently direct Izuku’s face back to where it was before, and locked eyes with him again. “We’re still the same. And we haven’t had a physical home in a long time.”
Izuku’s eyes were suspiciously watery, but before Shota could pull out a tissue from his pocket, Izuku burst forward to wrap his arms around Shota’s midsection. Shota stumbled back slightly at the unexpected movement, but recovered, and returned the hug.
Izuku’s head was tucked in his chest, and he was able to rest his chin on his head. He breathed for a moment with Izuku, waiting for him to gain control of his emotions.
They had gone through many changes over the past week alone, so he wasn’t surprised that some things had to give at some point, from either of them.
Some things didn’t change though.
“I love you, Dad.”
Shota’s eyes widened, and he found himself suddenly having to fight his own welling of tears. He buried his head in Izuku’s curls. He didn’t really know if it was to stifle the tears, or if it was so that he could be closer to his son. What he did know, was that-
“I love you too, Izuku.”
Memories collided of hugs just like this one, and yet ones not like it at all.
The surrounding buildings and traffic faded in and out as the past and the present merged.
Hugs of mourning, loss, grief. The landscape is bloody.
Hugs of loneliness, survival, comfort. The landscape is dusty.
Hugs of tentative contentment, growing affection, and love. The landscape is barren but clear.
Now, it was relief, overwhelm in the best of ways, and more, more love. The landscape is vivid and full of city life.
They broke apart, and rooted back in the present.
Izuku beamed tearily up at his dad.
Shota smiled impossibly softly down at his son.
“Home?” Shota asked.
“Home.” Izuku nodded.
~~~~~~
By the time they arrived at Shota’s apartment, Izuku was physically buzzing with nerves. He found himself reassured by the fact that his dad was also giving his typical tell for nervousness as he was shifting. The man was usually stoic and boasted genuinely good control over his body as part of his stealth hero training.
Izuku knew that his dad probably thought that being nervous over this was a bit silly, because they both knew the important things.
This was a change though, and a situation they never thought they’d get to explore.
They got to exist as an actual family unit together, even if it was only for a day.
He felt his dad place a comforting hand on his back while he grabbed his keys from his pocket with the other hand.
His dad removed the hand so that he could open the door, and he gestured for Izuku to enter.
The moment Izuku stepped in, he was hit with the overwhelming smell of dad, and instantly knew that this apartment could become just as much as a home as his mum’s.
As much of a home as his dad, the man himself, already was.
He heard his dad close the door behind him as he took in the space. The first half was open plan, and relatively small, with a living area to the right, and a kitchen and dining space to the left.
It was minimal, but surprisingly tastefully decorated. It was all clean shades of gray, with fluffy textures, especially in the living area. The occasional pop of colour came in some dark wooden furniture, like the coffee and dining tables, and a few framed photos of his dad and his friends. He was too far away to see the pictures closely, but he didn’t need to see to know which people would feature on his dad’s wall. Insider knowledge had Izuku wondering if his dad’s friends had something to do with that.
Insider knowledge also meant he knew that, if that was true, he kept it for sentimental reasons, regardless of if he liked it or not. The big softie.
Despite the relative monotone, the space was warm, and clearly decorated with care, which would have subverted all of Izuku’s expectations of the man when they first met. Of course, he’d known better for a while now, but it was the principle.
He could see a hallway entrance, which he figured led to bedrooms, bathrooms and a study.
“Feel free to explore.” Izuku turned around to face his dad, who was putting keys away, and swapping his shoes for house slippers. “There’s also a pair of house slippers for you there,” he pointed to a red pair, “but I actually don’t mind if you wear shoes in the house.”
Izuku blinked. “You sure?”
His dad deadpanned at him in response.
Izuku felt himself grin sheepishly. He launched into a quick hug with his dad, who wasn’t able to return it fast enough before Izuku had already zoomed towards the hallway.
He heard a slight huff of amusement, and after a short pause, light footsteps that followed him at a more sedate pace.
Izuku peeked to the left first. Three doors.
The wall with two was a bathroom, and a separate toilet, while the one on the end of the hall was what must’ve been his dad’s room.
Izuku blinked at the lack of furniture. All there was was a double bed and a single dresser. “Wow.” He turned to his dad who was looking at him in vague amusement. “You live like this?”
His dad raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?”
Izuku grinned, and jovially ignored him as he continued looking around.
It was a pretty small apartment, only slightly larger than his mum’s, Izuku noted, as he made his way to the last two rooms. He peeked in the one along the same wall as the bathrooms and found a study, full of half-graded stacks of paper.
His eyes roved over the room taking in its detail.
“You know, I would ask why you felt the need to have a mini-fridge in your study when the kitchen is right there, but, humour me, what are the chances that it’s all jelly packets?”
His dad avoided eye-contact.
Izuku laughed and checked the final room at the other end of the hall. He froze in his place at the stark difference this room had to all the rest.
It was another bedroom, roughly the same size as his dad’s, but with much less empty space, there being a bed, dresser, desk, and even some storage, plus a lot more colour.
He wouldn’t think much of it, if it wasn’t for the single, signed, All Might poster on the wall.
“It’s All Might coloured.”
“Yes.”
“And there’s a signed poster.”
He heard his dad shift slightly from behind him. “Yes.”
“You hate All Might.”
“Hate is a strong word.”
“I love All Might.”
“Really? I had no clue.”
He whipped around to face his dad.
“It’s… for me?”
His dad had the audacity to look genuinely confused. “Did you think you were gonna sleep on the couch?”
Izuku shook his head frantically. “No, no, but… I thought it was a guest room?”
His dad’s brows furrowed. “It was, before I had a kid.” He sounded, slowly. “I’m really not seeing the confusion.”
Izuku gaped. “But- I- you-”
His dad sighed, and gently placed a hand over Izuku’s mouth. “Nuh uh, my turn to speak.”
Izuku relaxed, and Shota removed his hand. He shifted his posture so that he was more level with Izuku’s height. “Kid, Izuku. You’ve known I’ve loved you like a son all this time, and you know I wanted this as much as you did. I bore my heart out to you mother, who’s practically a stranger to me. Why wouldn’t I keep a space for you in my house?”
Izuku’s shoulders dropped. “I… don’t know. Maybe you just wanted to keep a place for Mic and Midnight-sensei?”
Shota waved his hand dismissively. “They have their own places. If they wanna stay, they can take the couch. Or the floor, I’m not picky. That space is yours now, forever.”
Izuku stared at his dad’s back, overwhelmed. Tears welled up and fell at astonishing speeds. His dad turned around and he watched his face shift into concern as he caught sight of the tears.
His dad’s hands hovered awkwardly in a way they hadn’t in a long time, as he grew more and more attuned to Izuku’s emotions and needs for affection.
He gaped, seemingly unable to find the right question to ask Izuku, who stood and let the tears keep falling.
“...Kid?” He tried. A sob escaped Izuku, and his dad floundered. “Izuku?”
“It’s…” Izuku tried amongst the tears. “It’s…” he hiccuped. “It’s perfect!” he wailed.
Shota stilled in surprise at the opposing reactions. “What?”
Izuku fisted his eyes to quell the tears. “It’s perfect.”
His dad was still still with surprise as Izuku let his head fall into his dad’s chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around his dad’s midsection.
“It’s all I’ve ever wanted, Dad.”
Shota finally relaxed, and turned a soft look onto Izuku, who couldn’t see it. He wrapped his arms around his son to complete the hug.
“It’s all I’ve ever wanted too, son.”
“I love you.”