Archive of Our Own

A perfect Christmas is a big ambition, but Izuku is nothing if not ambitious.

Alright, he may be some other things—clumsy, easily distracted, not that great of a cook, not that great at wrapping gifts either, or at setting up fairy lights, and don’t get him started at his complete lack of aesthetic sensibility that makes him the worst at decorating things. 

But none of that matters when you’re trying to set up a perfect Christmas for orphan kids, right? In such an honorable endeavor, having a pure heart and good intentions is the name of the game. He’ll sort everything out. He’s sure of it.

So December 25, he asks for a day off work and marches to Musutafu’s Children House with a bunch of wrapping paper, meters of fairy lights, a frozen turkey, and as much good intentions a person can have. He’ll create the perfect Christmas for this kids or die trying.

“Deku!” Eri greets him when he arrives at the orphanage.

“What the hell are you carrying there, old man?” Kouta sneers as if he wasn’t excited to see Izuku (a failed attempt, Izuku sees how the boy was waiting for him on the doorsteps just like Eri).

“Language, Kouta,” he reprehends as usual. “Good morning, Eri. This is our Christmas supplies. I have more in my car. Would you two like to help me get the rest?”

Just seeing the barely restrained excitement with each kid rushes to his car to see what else is there makes all the work and preparations worth it. 

“Midoriya! You’re here!” Miss Kayama welcomes him. “I’m so thankful you came. You’re a life-saver.”

Miss Kayama is the orphanage’s manager. She’s one of the three people working in the place currently. Izuku knows that the orphanage is short-staffed and that Miss Kayama and the others wouldn’t be able to do anything for the kids’ Christmas on their own. That’s why he decided to step up.

“No need to thank me. I’m excited to spend Christmas with the kids,” he answers honestly.

“I do hope you have other, more grown-up plans after this,” she says, winking at her implication. “There’s plenty of time to meet someone special after the kids’ bedtime.”

Izuku chuckles awkwardly and rubs the back of his head, “I don’t have anyone to meet after this, I’m afraid.”

“But why not? You’re such an adorable young man! I’m sure you have lots of suitors falling all over you!” 

The conversation quickly took a turn Izuku hoped to avoid. Miss Kayama, for all her great qualities caring for the kids, is a big gossip. She’s way too invested in everyone’s love life and Izuku hates when her curiosity is aimed at him because it reminds him of his pitiful situation—an overweight nurse who doesn’t even remember the last time he had a date.

Thankfully, Kouta and Eri save him from having to explain that.

“We got everything!” Kouta announces proudly.

“Deku! Let's put up the tree!” Eri asks, carrying the box of decorations.

Izuku lets himself be swiped away by the kids, leaving Miss Kayama behind. It’s time to focus on making a perfect Christmas, not on his depressing love life.

***

Setting up the tree was… Well, it happened. There’s a tree and there are ornaments in it. The kids even had fun. That’s what matters in Izuku’s humble opinion.

Truly, they did what they could. There’s just some much picgram worthy aesthetic that can be achieved with an old plastic tree that’s seen over a dozen Christmases in an orphanage full of kids. Izuku brought some new ornaments and he let the kids put them wherever they wanted. This ended up with all the pink baubles concentrated in a corner because two of the girls grabbed them and didn’t let anyone else touch them; one kid stole all the nutcrackers and made a little army by the tree’s foot; Izuku almost had a heart attack when he saw a boy trying to eat one of the fake candy canes; and a big fight started when it came time to see who would put the star on top that ended up with the star broken. (Miss Kayama took the star and promised to try and glue it together before dinner.)

Fine, the tree is a mess, but the big problems start when Izuku starts putting up the lights.

Armed with a ladder twice his size and a big ball of string lights that are clearly tangled, Izuku brings the kids outside to help him set up the lights.

The weather is miserable. It’s cold and wet, last week’s snow became a disgusting slush with fairly dangerous ice shards, and Izuku’s fingers start aching just from setting up the ladder in the right place. Still, he goes up to check where he can start securing the lights.

“Deku, I don’t think this is working,” Eri calls for him.

Izuku looks down and sees five kids trying to detangle the string of lights, each one pulling from a different point and making the knots tighter. He grimaces, wondering how he’s going to tell them they’re making it worse without breaking their hearts or demotivating them.

“Hey, guys,” he tells them from the top of the ladder. “I’m happy to see everyone is so engaged in this task, but maybe if you all could find one of the ends and start working from there?”

“See? I told you! You’re doing it wrong!” Mahoro yells.

“I’m not the one doing it wrong! It’s Kouta that is getting in my way!” Tamashiro defends himself.

“I’m not in your way! You’re in my way, you poopyhead!” Kouta retorts.

“I’m not a poopyhead! You’re a poopyhead!” Comes the mature and leveled reply.

“I’m going to show you!” Kouta screams, grabbing a fistful of icy mud and throwing it at Tamashiro’s face.

“Kouta! No!” Izuku yells.

There’s no time for his yell to make an effect, though. The second the mud hits Tamashiro's face, he throws himself at Kouta for a fist fight. The girls scream, Izuku yells some more while he tries to go down the ladder as fast as he can to separate the boys.

Unfortunately, Izuku barely knows how to go up and down ladders at a cautious speed. His attempt at rushing it goes terribly wrong. His foot slips from the wet step and with a terrified screech, Izuku and the ladder fall down awkwardly. He hits his face on the ladder on his way down then slips on the muddy ground and when it’s all done, the kids are screaming so loud that the whole neighborhood must know something happened.

It’s absolute chaos.

Some kids scream, some cry, Kouta yells that Tamashiro killed Deku, Mahoro yells that both of them killed Deku. Blood spurts from Izuku’s nose, painting the ice red, and his head rings, a bit from the fall and much from all the screaming.

Eventually Miss Kayama comes outside and gets the situation under control. Izuku is shown to the living room and given some tissues to make his nose stop bleeding, and the kids are repeatedly reassured that he’s not dead.

“Let me see if we need to set it back in place, dear,” Miss Kayama says, gently touching Izuku’s nose.

Izuku cries softly in pain as she examines the damage. His whole face hurts, his nose is clogged with blood and tissues, so he can’t breathe, and even more pain irradiates from his nose. If his head wasn’t so spinny, he’d be calculating how many pain meds he can safely take to make this stop.

“I don’t think we need to set it, but it’s broken,” she informs him, then turns to the children. “I’m sorry, kids. I guess Christmas is cancelled this year.”

“What?! No!” Izuku protests immediately as the kids whine.

“Izuku, you need to go to a hospital or a clinic,” she tells him. “There’s only so much I can do here.”

“And there’s only so much they can do there either,” he retorts. “You said it yourself, my nose doesn’t need setting. Now it’s just managing the pain and taking some anti inflammatories. I can do that on my own, I don’t need to go to a hospital to hear another nurse tell me what I already know.”

Miss Kayama considers him for a long moment. If he was anyone else, she’d sending him to a hospital without  a second thought, but since Izuku is a nurse, his opinion probably has a bigger weight to her.

To help sway the woman, Izuku promises, “I’m not going to try putting up lights anymore. I’ll be in the kitchen baking cookies and making dinner with the kids.”

She sighs defeated, “If you’re sure…”

The kids cheer loudly, happy that Christmas is still happening.

“But let’s take a short break for now, ok? The kids need to have some lunch and you too,” Miss Kayama interrupts them. “You need to eat something so I can give you painkillers.”

“That’s a good plan,” he agrees.

Half an hour to rest, some food and painkillers, and Izuku knows he’ll be good as new.

***

Alright, maybe good as new are strong words. Izuku’s nose is fully blocked by blood clots and he has to mouth breathe, which leaves him panting like a dog. His head is still a bit dizzy and a migraine threatens to take hold. But he’s up and he had a bunch of meds and he’ll give these kids an unforgettable Christmas no matter what it takes.

So after they have lunch, they start to work on the Christmas dinner.

The plan is to give a break for the orphanage’s cook so she can help Miss Kayama with other things that need to get done around the house, while Izuku and the kids prepare cookies and the dinner. Unfortunately for everyone involved, Izuku isn’t a great cook on his own on the best of days. Now, adding about twelve kids from ages 3 to 13? That’s just chaos waiting to happen.

And it doesn’t have to wait long. 

“Mahoro, can you please dice the butter for me?” Izuku asks one of the older girls, which promptly starts World War 3.

“Why Mahoro?”

“I want to cut the butter too!”

“Can’t we just shove it in the microwave? Then we don’t have to cut it…”

“Deku is reading the recipe! If it says you have to dice, the we should do that!”

“But I want to cut it!”

“You’re too small to use a knife! I’ll do it!”

“I’m not small! I’m a big boy!”

“You know what?” Izuku interrupts the fight that’s just about to break out. “I think melting the butter is a great idea. It’s going to make it easier to measure it for the pie crust.”

And this is how things go. Every new task is met with way too much eagerness from all of the kids and Izuku starts cutting as many corners as he can to help smooth things over. It’s not going to be that bad, right? The important thing is that the kids are having fun. If the food isn’t as tasty as it could be because one of the kids sneezed at the seasoning bowl and Izuku decided to ditch it all together, oh well… That’s just how things are.

As corners are cut, the food gets made.

Izuku planned on making a vegetable pie, but all the kids have one or two vegetables they don’t eat. When they finish getting everything someone doesn’t eat off the recipe, they end up with a potato pie. While making the cookies, every kid wanted their turn to add chocolate chips so the dough ended up being equal parts flour to chocolate, but who doesn’t like extra chocolate chips? Izuku throws everything in the oven and hopes for the best.

After those two are done, there’s still a bunch to cook but the kids are restless. The novelty of cooking ran out as soon as they were done with the chocolate chips, so when Izuku pulls out the raw turkey, all he gets is a choir of “Ewwwww!”. 

The kids disperse, going to the living room to play around the tree. For a second, Izuku thinks that means he’ll have the time and space to actually cook.

He’s wrong.

In less than five minutes, Izuku hears noise that distinctively sounds like a Christmas tree crying for help. In an executive decision, he throws the turkey inside the overcrowded oven with the pie and the cookies (thankfully the orphanage has a kitchen setup to feed an army of kids), and rushes to the living room.

“What’s going on?” he asks when he sees Kouta helping Eri climb the tree. “Get down there!”

“I made a new star,” Eri says proudly, showing the paper star she cut and painted with crayon.

Izuku helps Eri and Kouta go back to the ground while saying, “That’s wonderful, Eri, but going up the tree is dangerous. You could fall and hurt yourself.”

“Yeah, you could even break your nose,” Mahoro teases, making Kouta snicker.

“That’s enough, you two,” Izuku says, throwing them a glare. “Come on, let’s find something safer to do while we wait for the cookies to bake.”

Since Eri already broke out the arts and crafts supply, they start making their own Christmas decorations. Izuku teaches the kids how to cut paper snowflakes and he only nicks his hand two times in the process. Some glitter is scattered on the carpet and most of the kids have some marker’s lines decorating their hands and arms, but this moment is as close to the perfect Christmas Izuku envisioned as it could get. The kids are having fun, no one is fighting, and he’s the only one bleeding. 

That’s why Izuku decides to keep the good mood running and asks if the kids want to do some Christmas karaoke. Miss Kayama already had told him the orphanage has an old karaoke machine that they could use. The machine is a bit dusty and you have to really scream in the microphone for it to pick your voice, but it has all the Christmas classics and the kids are excited to sing.

They start with a simple Jingle Bells, Mahoro pulling her brother Katsuma to the mic so they can sing it together. It’s just adorable. Izuku melts and records several videos of the kids for Miss Kayama. The next in line is Eri, who struggles a little with singing loud enough on the microphone but she’s so cute that no one corrects her.

After Eri, all the girls get up to sing Let it Go together. The fact that’s not a Christmas song and that the karaoke machine doesn’t have the Frozen soundtrack in it isn’t a deterrent. The girls just grab the microphones and start singing like they’re all princesses that lived their whole lives locked away in towers because of their magic powers.

At this point, Izuku doesn’t know if his face hurts more from falling off the ladder or from smiling so much. The singing hasn’t done much for his migraine, but he bears through it. The kids are so happy singing, he refuses to make them stop for anything short of a natural disaster.

After the girl’s choir, it’s time for the boys. They’re not so quick to pick an unanimous song and for a second, it feels like another fight will break off. That’s Izuku’s cue to step up and say they can all sign Jingle Bell Rocks. That’s another big hit and Izuku even dares to teach the kids a couple of dance moves he learned at high school (he also learned some dance moves in college but those aren’t child-friendly). 

They’re all laughing and singing and dancing so much that it’s impossible to hear a thing.

And that’s how they don’t hear the fire alarm going off. 

“Izuku! Kids!” Miss Kayama comes rushing and snaps the tv’s chord off the wall, cutting the music. “It’s a fire! Come on! Out of the house!”

Izuku looks around confused and just as his brain catches up to the alarm coming from the kitchen, he sees a cloud of black smoke entering the living room.

The room immediately dives into panic. The kids’ screams take on a terrified tone and they start scrambling around, confused and frantic. Izuku sees Miss Kayama grabbing three kids by their arms and rushing them out of the house and decides to do the same.

Quickly he grabs Mahoro’s arm and tries to pull her out of the house, but the girl fights back.

“No!” she screams, trying to free herself.

“Mahoro! We need to leave!” Izuku insists but she continues to fight him.

“No! I need to find Katsuma!” she yells.

Her words surprise him enough that she manages to break from his hold.

“Mahoro!” he calls but she’s already sprinting deeper into the house.

“Katsuma!” Izuku hears her yelling. “Katsuma!”

Panic grows inside Izuku as he sees her running towards the black smoke.

“Here! Help!” They hear Katsuma’s voice. “I can’t reach her!”

His voice comes from the kitchen, the room where the black smoke is the most dense. 

It’s hard to even see what’s going on inside, but forcing his eyes to stay open against the sting of the smoke, Izuku sees Katsuma and Mahoro struggling to reach the boy’s stuffed bunny that lays on top of the fridge.

The bunny had gotten dirty while they made cookies. Izuku was the one who cleaned it on the sink and put it on top of the fridge to dry. Katsuma adores that bunny,  it’s no wonder the first thing he thought about was rescuing it when he heard of a fire.

“I’ll—” Izuku tries to say he’ll get the bunny, but he starts coughing violently.

The smoke is getting to him and his lack of a functioning nose doesn’t help. The kids might say something, but Izuku can’t hear them over the sound of the fire alarm that blares in the kitchen. 

Knowing words won’t help them anyway, Izuku pushes through the coughs and reaches the bunny. The second the stuffed toy is safe in Katsuma’s hands, he takes the kids by their arms and runs.

The sprint out of the house is done in a daze. Izuku is coughing too much and he can’t keep his eyes properly open. All he can think about is taking the kids to safety.

So it’s a huge relief that when they finally leave the house, Izuku sees a handful of firefighters entering the house. There’s a giant red truck by the curb and more firefighters checking in on the kids.

Izuku hears Miss Kayama telling the firefighters “We have everyone here! Everyone got out!” and relief floods him.

They’re all safe. Everything is going to be alright.

Then Izuku starts another coughing fit.

A strong hand comes to his shoulder to support him and a soothing voice talks to him, but it’s hard to pay attention to it when Izuku feels like his lung is trying to come out through his esophagus.

“Breathe slowly. In through your nose, out from your mouth,” the husky voice tells him.

“Ca—” Cough. “Can’t—” Cough. “Broken nose.”

“Shit,” the man curses under his breath. “Right, still, slow breaths. Deep and slow. Yeah, that’s it.”

From the boots and uniform pants Izuku can see in his hunched position, the man helping him out is one of the firefighters. While his brain is catching up on that, the man pushes him by the shoulder to make him stand up right.

“Get up. It’ll be easier to breathe,” the firefighter says.

But then the air gets knocked out of Izuku’s lungs for a whole new reason—the firefighter is the most handsome man he’s ever seen.

Sharp red eyes, chiseled jaw, blond hair strands sticking from his helmet. He looks like a model.

“Keep fucking breathing, idiot,” he says, snapping Izuku from his daze. Then he turns around and yells, “Pinky! Get me a water bottle!”

Breath in, breath out. Izuku’s head is still spinning a little, his eyes still shed tears to help with the stinging, his lungs feel like they may give up at any second. And yet, Izuku feels safe. The firefighter’s big hand still supporting him by his shoulder ground him in the moment. 

“Come on. You need to sit down,” he says, leading Izuku to the curb.

A moment later, a bottle of fresh water is pushed to his lips and it helps with the pain in his throat Izuku haven’t even realize it’s there. The firefighter helps him take small sips between his breaths. 

When the water and the breathing exercises finally help Izuku’s mind to get a bit more clear, he can’t help but asking, “Shouldn’t you be putting off the fire?”

“There’s no fire,” the firefighter answers simply. “Some idiot left shit in the oven and it burned to a crisp. Probably too much fat in the oven helped create a small fire inside. The smoke was nasty but the fire didn’t spread.”

Izuku’s eyes fill with tears, this time coming from the guilt that blooms in his gut, hot and painful. The firefighter doesn’t know that.

“Let’s clean your face,” he says, raising the water bottle to rinse Izuku’s eyes. “Shitty smoke did a number on you. Why the fuck did you stay so long in there?”

The fresh water feels good in his stinging eyes, and after brushing it off, Izuku explains, “Katsuma, one of the kids, went back to get his toy. His sister went after him and I went after them.”

The firefighter shakes his head in frustration, “Gotta give these kids some fire training. I’ll talk to the Chief about it later then we can schedule it with you.”

“You should probably talk to Miss Kayama about it… I’m not a worker of the orphanage, just a volunteer.”

“A volunteer working on Christmas?”

Izuku shrugs, “The kids deserve a nice Christmas too.”

Then he looks around for the group of kids being tended by the firefighters and Miss Kayama and almost starts crying again. They did deserve a nice Christmas and Izuku ruined it.

Just as Izuku is about to start crying again, two ambulances arrive with sirens blaring. Before he knows it, paramedics are flooding the scene and checking on everyone.

“Here!” the handsome firefighter says, waving his hand high. “He has smoke inhalation!”

“No, no,” Izuku tries pulling the man’s arm down but he finds out that under the uniform, there’s a huge, strong arm that he can’t force down. “I’m fine. Let them check on the kids.”

“Shut up,” he dismisses Izuku. “Most of the kids got out before they breathed in smoke. I think you’re the worst one of the bunch.”

“But Mahoro and Katsuma—”

“Are already being looked after,” the man interrupts Izuku, then yells at the paramedics again. “Here, you idiots!”

A woman approaches them and starts checking on Izuku. She hears his lungs with a stethoscope and asks a few questions about what happened to him.

Which brings him to more shameful confessions.

“And when did you break your nose?”

“Ah… This morning. Setting up the fairy lights. I fell from a ladder.”

The paramedic quickly turns her examinations to his eyes, using a small lantern to check for signs of a concussion.

“And you were not kept in observation for a concussion?” she asks, confused.

“I didn’t go anywhere,” he says. When the woman looks at him with a panicky look, he’s quick to reassure her, “I’m a nurse. I knew my nose didn’t have to be set and I took some pain meds. I’m sure I’m fine.”

The paramedic and the firefighter share a look that wordlessly says they think Izuku is an idiot. And they’re probably right, but he’s not going down that easily.

“I’m fine, I swear. I just need water and rest and I’ll be good as new.”

“Good thing there’s lots of water and rest waiting for you in the hospital,” the paramedic says.

“What? I don’t—” Izuku tries protesting, but the firefighter is already grabbing him by the scruff and dragging him to the closest ambulance.

“Let’s get this show moving, nerd,” the firefighter says, using his impressive strength and size to manhandle Izuku into the ambulance.

“But the kids—”

“Shut up, nerd” the firefighter says with a roll of his eyes. “They’re fine, there’s a bunch of extras watching them.”

Izuku is forced to sit on the stretcher. With a few parting words to her peers, the paramedic joins them and sits by the firefighter’s side and soon the ambulance is on its way to the hospital.

***

The ride to the hospital is uneventful. Izuku is too mortified and guilty to speak, only answering questions when asked, and the paramedic thankfully kept his questions on the realm of Izuku’s medical history.

Through the paramedic’s questions, Izuku also finds out the name of the firefighter is Katsuki Bakugou. He saves the name as a little token. Izuku doesn’t think he’ll ever see the man again after they arrive at the hospital, so he’ll keep any memories of the gruff, but caring man that looks like a Hollywood star.

When they get to the hospital, it’s much the same. Nurses asking questions while Izuku thanks his lucky star that he wasn’t taken to the hospital he works at. He’d never live it down if he showed up at the ER on his day off. 

It doesn’t take long for the nurses to come to the conclusion he’s stable and can wait for the doctor to check on his nose. They also give him water and tell him he’ll be in observation for the smoke inhalation and possible concussion—just as he said it’d happen. 

And when the nurses leave him alone in his cot, he makes a point of telling Bakugou that.

“See? Water and rest, just as I said.”

Bakugou glares at him and pokes back, “Good thing you’ve a thick skull.”

Izuku chuckles. “I’ve heard that before.”

“You’re called stubborn often?” Bakugou asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Just when I know I’m right,” he answers playfully, pulling a snort out of the man.

“Smartass nerd.”

“I’m not a nerd,” Izuku protests. 

“You’re wearing an All Might Christmas sweater. It doesn’t get any more nerd than that.”

Izuku looks down at his blue and yellow sweater. There’s little indication it’s an All Might merch despite the small M on the left side of his chest. And All Might isn’t such a famous character nowadays; it’s heyday was when Izuku was a kid. Meaning, there’s only one reason Bakugou would have to recognize it.

He smiles widely when he says, “You’re an All Might fan too!”

Bakugou shrugs and answers noncommittally, “It’s an alright cartoon I guess.”

“Have you seen the old Bronze Age episodes? They’re the best! I’m sure if you watch—”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Bronze Age the best? There’s a damn good reason why the Gold Age is called Gold Age, idiot. Stop spouting nonsense.”

“Then I know you haven’t watched all the episodes. If you think the season’s name determines its quality…” he teases.

“What in the Bronze Age is superior to the Gold Age? Tell me just one damn thing,” Bakugou challenges.

“All Might’s relationship with his friends, of course. In the Gold Age, his support system barely shows up, but in the Bronze Age we can see David Shield and all the others.”

“The extras don’t show up because All Might can handle everything on his own at the Gold Age! He kicks villain ass like no one’s business.”

“There’s more to being a hero than just winning against the villains.”

“No, there isn’t.”

“Yes, there is.”

“No, there—”

“Mr. Midoriya?” A doctor holding a clipboard approaches his cot and interrupts their debate.

“Yes, that’s me,” he answers. “When can I leave?”

“Sorry, but I'm not here for your release,” the doctor says. “I want to check on your nose and then I’m going to ask for an x-ray. After the x-ray, we’ll have to wait a few more hours to check your concussion and your breathing.”

Izuku slumps in the cot. That’s it. Christmas is officially ruined. He won’t be able to do anything for the kids, won’t be able to make up for all his screw ups.

It’s hard to not start crying again, but at this time, it’s been a while since his eyes stopped stinging. He’d not have any excuse to shed tears and it’d get in the way of the doctor’s work. 

He’s such a loser. Why can’t he ever do anything right? He probably ruined  the orphanage’s kitchen and traumatized the kids because he can’t even bake cookies. All that he wanted was to give the kids a fun day and he’s too useless to do even that.

Izuku’s eyes burn with the need to cry but he swallows the tears as best as he can. He doesn’t deserve to cry. He already brought up too much trouble for everyone. He should be begging for forgiveness, not having a mental breakdown.

“Thank fuck you’re going to be stuck here. If they let you out, you’d go back to terrorizing those kids with your nerdy cartoons,” Bakugou taunts him with a playful lilt in his voice.

Izuku can’t help the wet chuckle that breaks through his lips.

“They love watching All Might,” he answers. “I brought the DVD of one of their Christmas Specials to watch with the kids.”

Bakugou chuckles as well. “Of course you fucking did. But don’t worry. I’m sure the kids can wait a couple more days to watch the 20-years-old movie.”

“I… I don’t know if I’m going to be allowed back to the orphanage,” Izuku mumbles, ashamed. “I’m the idiot who left the stove on.”

“I know,” Bakugou answers, unbothered. “You have a shitty poker face.”

“Oh…”

“Look, I’m not going to say you’re not banned from the kitchen for life because I’ll personally kick your ass if I ever saw you attempting to cook again,” Bakugou continues. “But my phone is being blasted with messages asking about you because the kids are crying their little eyes out, thinking you’re hurt.”

“Really?” Izuku asks, hopeful. “I didn’t traumatize them?”

“Told you they’re fine,” Bakugou dismisses. “Since my squad’s shift was just about to end anyway, they took the truck to the station and went back to the orphanage to cheer up the kids. They’re making I survived a fire badges right now.”

Then Bakugou turns his phone to Izuku. On the screen, there’s a picture of the kids gathered in the living room, working with the arts and crafts supplies they used hours ago with Izuku. A bunch of the firefighters are with them, in their not-fireproof uniforms. It’s adorable and Izuku’s heart recovers a little from knowing the kids are still having a nice Christmas.

“It’s so nice of them to spend their Christmas with the kids,” Izuku whispers in awe.

“Those idiots are probably having more fun than the kids with the glitter shit,” Bakugou says, putting his phone away. 

“Thank you for showing me that. And for sticking around to make sure I was fine,” Izuku says. “I’m going to be ok now. You can go. I’m sure you have Christmas plans to get to since your shift is over.”

“Can’t,” Bakugou answers with a shrug. “Told you that the kids are worried. I’ve been tasked with watching over you. The group chat says I need to send updates on your health every half an hour.”

To prove his point, Bakugou raises his phone and snaps a picture of Izuku’s surprised face. Then he sends it to the chat as a response to the picture of the kids doing crafts.

“You’re so nice,” Izuku mumbles awkwardly, looking at the floor.

The conversation dies down for a second, but before the silence becomes too awkward, a nurse shows up to take Izuku to his x-ray.

The exam was just as expected. Izuku’s nose is cracked, but it’s not that bad. The doctor prescribes him some pain meds and tells him to be careful for the next couple of weeks. Izuku promises to not go up any ladders while his nose is healing. Bakugou says he shouldn’t go on any ladders at all for the rest of his life.

Then it’s just a waiting game. Izuku still has a slight cough so they want to make sure that doesn’t devolve into something worse before letting him go. The concussion, thankfully, has been ruled out since he hit his head in the morning and enough hours have passed that the doctors are confident it wasn’t a serious injury.

Once Izuku and Bakugou are alone again in the little cot, Izuku wonders if he should tell Bakugou that he’s free to go. Izuku is certainly going to be fine and he can update Miss Kayama himself whenever he’s released to go home, so the kids aren’t too worried.

Izuku feels bad about Bakugou wasting his evening with Izuku at the hospital, but at the same time, he doesn’t want Bakugou to leave. It’s been nice to have the gruff firefighter around to talk to. Bakugou is funny and handsome—a killer combo that Izuku doesn’t usually have around him. 

Before Izuku can gather the courage to tell Bakugou to go home once again, Bakugou starts talking one more time.

“So, you really are a nurse, hm?” he mentions, clearly wanting to start conversation.

“Ah, yes,” Izuku answers, caught by surprise. “I work at Musutafu General.”

“Cool. Now I know where to tell people to take me if I ever need it.”

“But I don’t think Musutafu General is near your station’s district. It’s on the other side of the town to the orphanage,” Izuku comments, confused.

“It isn’t. I now know to tell people to always take me to the closest place as long as it isn’t Musutafu General,” Bakugou says with a teasing smirk. “Don’t want to chance my nurse stumbling on their own shoe laces and breaking their nose when they should be treating me.”

“Hey! We run a great hospital, alright? I might not be great with ladders, but I never broke my nose while treating a patient,” Izuku answers, pouting. “And the rest of the team is great. You’d be in good hands if you ever need to be treated there.”

“I’m just fucking with you,” he says, red eyes glinting with mirth. “I think having a nurse with a broken nose would be fine. I’ve heard those are the most dedicated ones.”

“You really are just teasing me.” Izuku continues pouting. “I always thought firefighters were supposed to be heroes, just like All Might. But All Might would never tease someone like that…”

“Guess I’m more of an antihero,” Bakugou says chuckling. “But that’s fine. The antiheroes always get the hottest partners.”

“Do they?” Izuku asks, pondering. “In the All Might series, there aren’t a lot of couples. But then, there isn’t any clear antihero there either. I guess you’d have to consider the Marvel or DC universes for this analysis since their pool of characters is so much larger.”

“You’re such a nerd…” Bakugou says, rolling his eyes but with amusement in his voice. “It’s not that deep. Hot people like the edgy guys. You should know that.”

Izuku frowns, “I’m sure that’s just a stereotype. Hot people like what everyone likes in a partner.”

“And what would that be?”

He considers for a moment before giving a generic answer to what he believes is a good partner,  “Someone nice. Someone that treats them well, and that they have a lot of common interests with.”

“That could just be a friend.”

“It could… I guess you should date people you’d be friends with.”

“So what’s the difference between just a friend and a friend that you’d date?”

“That’s the question all the people in the friendzone are asking themselves, isn’t it?” Izuku says with a chuckle. “I think there’s no final answer. It depends on a spark, on chemistry, something like that.”

“You mean it depends if you think the friend is hot,” Bakugou says, raising an eyebrow.

“I suppose, but people have different opinions on what makes someone hot, don’t they? It’s not a universal thing.”

“They sure do,” Bakugou agrees. “What do you think it’s hot?”

You Izuku’s brain is quick to answer. Thankfully, his mind doesn’t catch on and he just sputters and blushes a furious red. Bakugou openly laughs at how flustered Izuku becomes.

“What even is this question?” he finally manages to say, still heaving a little.

“Just want to see how I measure up,” Bakugou answers with a shrug.

Even more blood rushes to Izuku’s face and he’s thankful he’s not wearing a heart monitor because there’d be a whole team approaching them with a crash car if he was. 

“I didn’t think you’d need to fish for compliments,” he mumbles.

“Why’s that?”

“You know why,” Izuku huffs, having decided that Bakugou is just having fun messing with him. “You’re the epitome of hot in most people’s standards.”

Bakugou makes a face and says, “I don’t care about extras’ standards. I’m asking for yours.”

Even scrunching his face like that Bakugou is the most handsome man Izuku has ever seen. He’s so handsome that it’s hard to look straight to him when Izuku is already so flustered and agitated, so he looks away when he answers more to himself than to Bakugou.

“I don’t know why that’s important.”

“Easy. That’s important because my standard for hot is nerds in stupid sweaters that have a great ass and even greater heart.”

Izuku turns to look at him with eyes so big that it’s a wonder they don’t fall right off his skull. 

“What?” he asks, in complete disbelief.

“You heard me,” Bakugou says, but this time it’s his turn to look awkward and flustered.

Bakugou is looking away from Izuku and his ears are burning red.

No matter how hard it’s to believe that someone like Bakugou would be interested in someone like Izuku, it’s even harder to not believe it when Bakugou is doing this face. 

It’d be also be very insulting. Bakugou hasn’t given any reason for Izuku to not believe in him. On the contrary, he’s been very nice, took care of Izuku since the moment he got out the house, is keeping him company in the hospital even when he doesn’t have to, and they hit it off in conversation. 

So maybe, just this once, Izuku can ignore the insecurity monster that lives inside his head and take a leap of faith.

“I think someone spending time with me on a hospital to check if I don’t have a concussion is pretty hot,” he answers, embarrassed at his own words. “And someone who likes All Might. That’s the hottest thing of all.”

Bakugou raises his head to look at him and his cocky smirk is back in place.

“So, about that concussion, I think the doctors cleared that out too quickly. I think you’ll need company for a few more hours after your observation here ends.”

“Yeah, I guess that’d be the safest approach to my treatment,” Izuku agrees, biting back a smile that insists on coming out. “I could buy us some Christmas cake on a konbini and we could eat it back in my place. You know, to thank you for your service.”

“You got yourself a date, nerd,” Bakugou agrees with a smile of his own.

Turns out, in the end, a perfect Christmas happened despite Izuku’s struggles.