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Who would’ve thought being a teacher would be so exhausting?
Aizawa’s sleeping bag should’ve been a clue, but Izuku didn’t really get a taste of it until he stepped into his shoes, and man oh man is he tired.
He pulls off his scarf, blue with red and white stripes today, and he hangs it over a hook so he can wear it again tomorrow. He peels off his coat, happy to be free to enjoy his warm apartment again, and he toes off his serious business loafers to set beside his preferred red sneakers.
Next to a row of three different pairs of shoes.
His eyes widen as he stumbles out of the doorway into the rest of his apartment, his serious business briefcase still in hand, and his heart jumps at the sight he finds.
Shouto and Eijirou are fast asleep on the futon, dragged out in front of the television and set up with all the blankets and pillows they need, and Katsuki is stretched out on the couch with Suplex curled up on his stomach, snoozing away.
Izuku’s eyes fill with tears, and he puts a hand over his mouth to keep himself quiet. They’re all here. Even though he said he had to work late and would be fine if they met sometime tomorrow instead, they all came.
He steps as quietly as he can past them so he doesn’t wake them, and he carefully puts the rest of his things down in his room before he grabs his sleep clothes and tiptoes back to the bathroom.
He closes the door gently behind him and flinches as the water hisses out of the shower head and splatters against the floor before the flow evens out into a steady stream. He is absolutely going to have to talk to his landlord about that one of these days.
There’s a light knock on the door, and he opens it enough to see who’s on the other side.
“Oh, sorry, Kacchan. Did I wake you?”
“Nah,” Katsuki whispers. “You weren’t kidding about having to work late.”
“One of my students decided twenty pages was an appropriate length for an essay.”
“Oh god, you’ve been cloned.”
Izuku scowls. “Hey.”
Katsuki’s eyebrows lift. “Let me in.”
Izuku opens the door more, and Katsuki steps in and starts taking off his clothes. “What are you doing?”
“Taking a shower,” he says and moves to undo Izuku’s tie. “I’m fucking gross.”
“You got patrol on my couch?” Izuku says with a grimace.
“No, I got agency shower on your couch,” he says. “You smell like cafeteria.”
“I do not.”
Katsuki sniffs him. “Spaghetti day.”
“Wow, you’re a jerk after midnight,” he says.
“Was I wrong?”
Izuku pauses. “No.”
“Heh.”
“It was a good guess,” he says.
“Keep telling yourself that,” he says. “Extra meatballs.”
“Can I take a shower, please?”
“You gonna take your clothes off or get in like that?”
He looks at him silently, feeling the taunt in his own gaze, and Katsuki tuts a laugh before he reaches for Izuku’s belt. It’s been the four of them for a while now, but like this it’s hard to forget that Katsuki was the first in a lot of ways. Not his first kiss, though. Shouto claimed that one.
Izuku can’t help but smile, looking up at him. “Your patrol go okay?”
“Yeah, Ei kicked some ass,” he says as he undresses him. “Surprised you didn’t see it.”
“I’ve been in essay hell all day,” he says. “I missed all the good stuff.”
“Not all of it,” he says with a small smirk, and Izuku’s smile widens. “You gonna shower or look at me?”
“Both,” he says before taking a step backwards.
“You’re gonna bust your ass.”
“Nuh uh,” he says playfully. “I’m gonna– op!”
Izuku’s foot slips, but Katsuki grabs him before he crashes and wakes the others up, giving him an I told you so look as Izuku rights himself, holding onto his biceps for emotional support.
“Oops,” he says sheepishly.
“Yeah. Oops.”
Izuku turns to get into the shower the right way, and Katsuki pops him right on the ass, almost making him yelp out in surprise. He slaps behind him, smacking him in the chest, and Katsuki gives him a little shove right under the water.
Izuku wets his hair, smiling like an idiot because he can’t help himself, and he switches out to share the stream. They’ve showered together dozens and dozens of times, and with Katsuki already clean, he mostly just rinses the smell of the agency water off that Izuku will agree is a little too public pool for his liking and spends the rest of the time helping Izuku scrub his back.
It’s an otherwise benign shower with the others sleeping just in the other room, but it’s exactly what Izuku needs to wind down from sitting at a desk for too many hours. He mutters about wanting to hear about his patrol while Katsuki’s fingers work into his hair, and Katsuki asks about his favorite student, the one who said Dynamight is the reason she became a hero, and Izuku rolls his eyes fondly as he tells him that her grades are good enough to start an internship, if someone was interested.
“Tch.”
That’s all he gets this time, but it’s a step up from I’m not babysitting no brats so maybe he’s finally considering it.
They get out and brush their teeth side by side in Izuku’s little mirror. It makes him smile too much seeing him like this, and Katsuki jabs him with his elbow, making Izuku laugh silently around his toothbrush. They play more as adults than they ever did as kids, and he thinks this must be their way of making up for lost time. Or just the result of getting that single precious second chance Izuku will never stop being grateful for.
He presses a kiss to Katsuki’s shoulder, leaving a print of toothpaste.
“Oi,” he whisper shouts, and Izuku grins shamelessly. “Fucker.”
Izuku laughs quietly to himself, pleased, and Katsuki makes a motion to flick away the mark as if it could transfer to Izuku instead.
They leave the bathroom to go to bed, but as Katsuki turns to his left, Izuku grabs his arm to stop him.
“I know the bed would be more comfortable, but I don’t wanna leave them,” he says, hoping his apology comes through.
Katsuki shrugs and turns towards the right back down the hall to the living room, and Izuku hurries back to get a pillow for him. Katsuki lies down first and puts it under his head, and Izuku climbs over him, settling in like they used to nap together at the dorms. Surprisingly no one ever complained about it, but if he thinks about why too much he’ll just get mopey.
“You’ve got the day off tomorrow, right?” Katsuki whispers. Izuku nods. “So do we.”
He smiles against him, so happy he almost wishes he could skip the night completely.
Someone snorts in their sleep behind them, and Izuku feels Katsuki shake with a laugh.
“Loser,” he mumbles, and Izuku tucks his face into his collar, grinning like a fool.
The next morning Izuku wakes in his own bed without the rough weave of the couch scraping against his skin, and he wonders if one of them carried him here. He opens his eyes and sees a wash of long red hair draped over another sleeping face like a veil, and he blinks at Eijirou, a little disoriented. Did they pass him off like a newborn?
Something in the apartment smells warm like browned butter, and the sensation is followed by a light thump of his own cabinets being shut and a metal twang and a ceramic plunk. Someone is making breakfast.
His stomach rumbles just slightly louder than the hum of curiosity in his mind, and he pushes himself up to go investigate, but a pair of strong arms grab him by the waist and pull him back halfway across the bed.
He giggles helplessly as he’s caged against Eijirou’s chest, the plush muscles at rest squishing against his face, and Eijirou slings a leg over him for good measure. Izuku could get out of this. He may not have his quirk anymore, but he never stopped training, but the joy and amusement weakens him.
His skin is cool from the morning air, and Izuku allows himself a moment to nuzzle into it as the smell of spices wanders through his apartment. Not his spices. No, someone would have brought them with him. Probably the ingredients too. Izuku is not the best at remembering to go to the grocery store.
“Mmmmk,” Eijirou says, satisfied, before he presses a kiss to the top of Izuku’s head and releases him. Izuku props himself and smoothes Eijirou’s wild hairs out of his face before he returns the kiss on his temple. “Mornin’.”
“Go back to sleep,” he whispers.
“No,” he says, and then he does.
Izuku watches him fondly for a moment before he stretches and finally gets out of bed.
He finds both Shouto and Katsuki in the kitchen. Shouto is at the table with a cup of tea, his hair mussed from sleep, and Katsuki is at the stove, concentrating so hard he doesn’t notice him come in.
“Morning,” Izuku says cheerfully, and Shouto gives him a small, sleepy smile.
Katsuki yawns and wipes his eye with his free hand while the other works a giant plastic tube with a little valve contraption. Izuku has never seen it before and decides to at least start himself a cup of coffee before he even begins to ask.
“What are you making?”
“Pumpkin pancakes,” Shouto says.
“Ahhh,” Izuku says, two questions answered at once. It’s to pour the batter.
“Not turnin’ out great,” Katsuki grumbles.
“You should have added more flour,” Shouto says. “The pumpkin puree added too much moisture.”
“You add more flour,” he says childishly, and Izuku smiles to himself, imagining them having this conversation all morning with Shouto’s backseat cooking and Katsuki’s refusal to listen.
“I tried, but you wouldn’t let me.”
“Because then they’d just taste like flour.”
“Not with how much puree you added.”
“You wanna die?”
“Pause,” Izuku says before he presses his face against Katsuki’s back right at the nape of his neck, closing his eyes for a moment as he gains a little bit of something from touching him, and then he steps back. “Okay, continue.”
“Fine, get me the flour,” he says, pointing to a dusty looking shopping bag it was transported in. “If these taste like shit, it’s his fault.”
“It is not,” Shouto says.
Izuku brings him the bag of flour, and Katsuki pours some of it into his little contraption before mixing it all together. He gives Shouto a pointed look before he squeezes some out into a pan, and then he just… stops.
“Looks like pancake batter to me,” Izuku says quietly.
Katsuki only grunts.
Izuku grins to himself and walks over to Shouto to put his arms around him and squeeze him into his chest. He presses his nose into the white half of his hair and holds him for a moment while Shouto stiffly allows it like a tolerant house cat.
“There,” he says, releasing him. “All charged up.”
Katsuki tuts a laugh. “Nerd.”
“What?” Izuku asks innocently. “Everyone was asleep when I got home.”
Eijirou walks in behind them, scooping his hair back in a tie as he makes his way towards the refrigerator for something to drink.
“Pancakes?” Eijirou says.
“Pancakes,” Shouto confirms. “But if they taste like shit, it’s his fault.”
“Oi!” Katsuki shouts, threatening him with his spatula, and Shouto smiles to himself as he takes another sip of his tea. “Whose boyfriend is that?”
“Yours,” Izuku and Eijirou chime, and to Izuku’s delight, Katsuki turns a little red around the ears.
Suplex bumps into Eijirou’s leg, demanding a treat, and Eijirou puts down the container of juice before he reaches into the cabinet to retrieve the box of tuna crunchies, knowing exactly where Izuku keeps them.
He sets a handful on the floor, Suplex chirps, and Katsuki squeezes out another batch of batter without the tension in his shoulders from a potentially ruined breakfast.
He gets an entire day with them, all together with no reason to rush away, and it’s everything he could want from a weekend.
Izuku is so happy he could cry.