Chapter Text
Hitoshi really doesn’t know how he ended up here, but he can literally feel the dread settle deep inside his bones when his dad turns around comically slow. He could literally count the seconds in which his dad turned, with a grin spreading across the man’s face that meant trouble.
Fuck that. He knows exactly how he’s here, and he curses himself for not having the emotional capacity of Yaoyorozu or Kirishima to handle his feelings. He likes Katsuki, in the way that he’s willing to spend the rest of his life with the guy. A bit dramatic for someone who’s only known him for a couple of months, but Hitoshi cannot imagine anyone else to be with. But here’s the thing, he has no idea what to do with these feelings.
Which is why he’s here, on the couch of his parents’ apartment, blurting out an, “I like someone” and immediately regretting it after.
His parents tower over him like the Eiffel Tower, which is equal parts terrifying and exasperating. The only thing he has shielding him is sweet little Eri, but even she’s looking up at him with her big puppy eyes full of excitement, so he knows they’re going to use it to their advantage. Why did he ever think opening up to them was a good idea?
“Our little boy, all grown up,” Yamada croons, and Hitoshi groans, burying his face into Eri’s hair. This is hell, he must be in hell. “Next thing you know, we’re seeing you at the altar, all dressed up!”
Hitoshi doesn’t mention that he’s already dreamt about their entire future, including their wedding, honeymoon and future apartment. He’d prefer to not die of embarrassment until he proposes to the guy, thank you very much.
Little Eri pokes his cheek with her small, pudgy finger, “Hito-nii, who is it?” she asks shyly, and he feels like he walked into a trap.
Hitoshi lifts his head, glaring at his parents. He glares especially hard at Aizawa, because as much as the guy tries to convince everyone he’s someone that doesn’t give a shit, Hitoshi knows that his papa loves consuming gossip from the sidelines. Maybe it’s the effect of being a father to an emotionally stunted teenage boy. Or maybe it’s just an effect of being married to a hero whose hobby is sticking his nose into other people’s business.
Aizawa only raises an eyebrow, but Hitoshi can see the twitch of his lips as if he’s trying hard to tamper down the smile threatening to show. Eri pokes his cheek again, and he wonders what he did to deserve this.
“Hito-nii?” She repeats softly, and he can hear Aizawa and Yamada snicker in the background. Cruelty knows no bounds. Is this what Dante went through? At least he had that Virgil guy with him, the only old men Hitoshi’s stuck with are the two making fun of him, so he’d really rather die alone. Or maybe with Katsuki, but he’d cry if Katsuki died, so maybe not.
“A… classmate,” he grumbles, unwilling to reveal Katsuki’s identity because, well, that’s like adding fuel to fire.
”Is it… Mr. Tokoyami?”
And Hitoshi kinda gets the misconception. He and Tokoyami get along fairly well, and sometimes they hang out in the common room when everyone else is dead to the world. He’s the type of guy people think Hitoshi would match with. However, Hitoshi’s heart is dead set on one person only.
”Nah. Besides, I’m pretty sure Tokoyami has something for Aoyama,” Hitoshi replies blandly. He’s seen the two dance around each other, and they’re pretty cute, like a modern day Beauty and The Beast. (Not that Tokoyami’s a beast, but you get the gist of it.)
He hears Yamada gasp, and Eri and him watch as he shakes Aizawa with a vigour that makes Hitoshi worry whether his papa’s eyes will pop out of its sockets. Then again, that just means he can run away from this and never bring it up again. He’s ready to make a bolt for it with Eri in his arms, but the two adults look back at him. He doesn’t know why he sits back down without question, he really doesn’t.
Eri’s still looking up at him like Dora the fucking Explorer, as if there’s some sort of treasure she needs to find and she can only find it when Hitoshi answers honestly. He’s gone too soft, because he can feel himself breaking the longer Eri stares.
Aizawa snorts at the losing battle Hitoshi’s having, like the big, bad asshole he is. “Hitoshi, we’re not going to judge. You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.”
Aizawa is luring him into a false sense of security, and the worst thing is that it’s working.
To be fair, Hitoshi was the one that decided to have this “important conversation”, even though it really wasn’t that important. Maybe he should’ve gone to Kirishima instead, it’d have been less embarrassing, but Hitoshi isn’t that close with him. He trusts his parents, no matter how much they like to make fun of him for finally doing “normal teenager activities”. Still, he doesn’t know if he should be talking about his currently non-existent love life to Romeo and Juliet right in front of him.
(He hears a voice that sounds vaguely like Katsuki in the back of his head, screaming. “Don’t compare random couples to a fucking Shakespeare tragedy, dipshit. Do you want these motherfuckers to have some sort of shitty falling out or, I don’t know, fucking dying? Did you even read the damn book?”)
Okay, voice that is decidedly not-Katsuki, not Romeo and Juliet. Maybe Lumiere and Cogsworth, then. Seems fitting enough. Maybe he should ask Eri to start watching other Disney Princess movies, he’s been making too many of the same references and he needs to spice things up.
“Hi-to-shiiiii!” Yamada drags his name, and Hitoshi makes a grumbling noise, hugging Eri closer. She doesn’t even try to escape. “Come on! Shouta’s not gonna expel your crush, don’t be too scared.”
”Yeah. I’ll just threaten someone with expulsion, and if he happens to be your crush, no one will know.”
”Shouta.”
Aizawa sighs, crossing his arms. “I’m joking, Hizashi.”
”It’s his way of giving someone a shovel talk,” Yamada smiles, patting his shoulder. “Shouta loves everyone in the class, he’s not expelling anyone any time soon.”
Not after all they’ve been through, is left unsaid. Not that Hitoshi will bring it up, because shit, the past year has been fucked, and the fact everyone is still alive is a miracle in itself. Class 2-A has spent too many nights in the common rooms all huddled up together, and he knows his dad’s walked in on them, and he doesn’t even berate them. Hell, if anyone left in the middle of the year, the class would probably feel all sad and goopy, even for someone like Hitoshi who joined only recently.
So, yeah, he knows Aizawa won’t be expelling anyone in the near future. It’s kind of nice, actually, having someone be overprotective of him. He never would have thought he’d have a father figure willing to give anyone the shovel talk, but here he is, with two of them, and internally sends a middle finger to the universe. Yeah, his life’s going great, actually, no help from the world.
Well, not too great, considering that he feels like he wants to dig himself a hole and crawl into it. Eri blinks up at him, and he squishes her face in between his hands just to relieve his own stress. She starts giggling, and Hitoshi squeezes and pinches her cheeks like she’s some sort of stress toy, making his shoulders feel much lighter.
Okay, he can do this.
Wait a minute.
”How did you know it was a guy?” he asks incredulously, his eyebrows shooting all the way up into his hairline.
Silence falls between them, with only Eri’s continuous giggles filling the air.
Yamada kneels down, like he’s about to reveal some life-changing information. His face turns solemn, and he pats Eri’s head before holding onto Hitoshi’s shoulder.
”Hitoshi,” he starts off, his voice serious. “Have you looked at yourself?”
Oh, fuck you.
His papa cackles in the background, and god do the two assholes really deserve each other. Eri’s eyes are flicking from their dads losing their minds, to Hitoshi who wishes he could be anywhere else but here. He’s placing his trust in the wrong people. They’re laughing at poor, little Hitoshi who’s deep in his misery. He should’ve slept everything off, but then he realizes he can’t even sleep because of his insomnia. Maybe he can buy those melatonin gummies and eat a whole bottle just to avoid the cackling hyenas he’s hearing.
He makes eye contact with Eri. “Never turn out like these weird old men, Eri,” he admonishes with a grave tone. “They’re bad influences, and they leech off gossip like parasites. Just stick to Jirou or Midoriya, ignore these two.”
Eri just furrows her cute little eyebrows, before nodding seriously. Hitoshi knows that she didn’t even get what he was trying to say, but the fact she’s going along with him is enough. She’s the best person in this household, that’s for sure, and he’ll kidnap her once he elopes with Katsuki.
Pause that train of thought. He hasn’t even asked the guy out yet, which is why he’s here in the first place.
“Do you really need to know who it is?” Hitoshi huffs, twirling his finger in Eri’s hair. “Can’t you just, I don’t know, give me advice and be done with it? It really isn’t that important for you to know who he is.”
“If you want me to be honest, I’m honestly hoping you would figure things out yourself,” Aizawa confesses, like the bastard he is.
Yamada elbows his side, and his papa lets out a flat “ow” in response.
”Shouta’s joking!” Yamada grins, to which the other grunts in response. “I mean, you don’t have to tell us. But knowing who it is makes it easier for us to know how to help. Not everyone has the same view on love.”
Love. Yeah, he loves his parents, and he loves Eri. He loves their four cats, he loves sleeping even though he doesn’t sleep. It’s a heavy word, one that he avoided using like it was some curse, back when he was still in-between foster homes. Being adopted by the Yamada-Aizawa household though, made it an easier word to use. He doesn’t just say he loves something if he doesn’t feel his whole world surrounding it.
Katsuki? Yeah, it isn’t just simple teenage infatuation. He’s completely head-over-heels, consumed with adoration, love-struck, whatever you want to call it. He feels like Mr. Darcy falling for Elizabeth, except there’s no social status for them to adhere to, no superiority complex making him seem like the worst man alive.
Hell, someone sign him up to some American theatre class, stat. He’s thinking in fancy now, and he has a strong urge to blame Katsuki for it.
“I guess,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair as Eri pats his cheek. “I’m still not telling you who it is though.”
He pauses. “Sorry, Eri,” he adds on as an afterthought, and his sister just pats his cheek again in understanding. An angel sent from heaven, god bless her.
“We’re not going to do anything to your crush, Hitoshi.” Aizawa says dryly.
Yamada pipes in. “Yeah! We’ll only embarrass you just a bit, because we old men have nothing else to do, and our only entertainment is teenage drama.”
Both Hitoshi and his papa make a face. He doesn’t know why Aizawa’s making a face, he literally married the guy. Serves him right.
”Why do I even bother?” Hitoshi grumbles, and is ready to stand back up before Yamada pushes him back on the sofa. Both him and Eri let out a small “oof” at the impact.
”Okay, okay! Jokes aside, what kind of things does he appreciate? That’s your first step, because if you’re planning to confess, try and do it in a way he’ll like so you need to sweep him off his feet!”
”Hizashi… makes a good point.”
What would Katsuki like? Direct confrontation, definitely. Nothing through text, because that’s half-assed, and Katsuki hates anything that doesn’t have a hundred percent effort. Besides, even Hitoshi thinks declaring his undying love and loyalty through text is too big of an asshole move. It’s practically the first step to getting rejected, in fact, and Hitoshi likes to avoid that as best as possible. He’d probably consider shaving his head and turning to monkdom, swearing off love and being celibate the rest of his life.
Okay, stop overthinking, Hitoshi. Katsuki would beat your ass into next week if he was here.
Realistically, he could just go up to Katsuki, ask to talk and just say, “I like you and I’m gonna marry you in the future, and if I don’t get to do that I’ll just die.” But that’s so boring. He wants to woo him dramatically, just to piss him off, because getting on each other’s nerves is their love language. Still, Katsuki’s mellowed out since their first year, and Hitoshi doesn’t really want to be the one to give him an aneurysm.
What if he drags Katsuki out in the rain, and while they’re soaked to the brim he grips Katsuki’s hands like a vice and starts spouting words that would put Shakespeare to shame. Hitoshi could say, “I love you, most ardently,” and hope that Katsuki’s flabbergasted by the re-enactment of Mr. Darcy, and be so fondly exasperated with Hitoshi that they’ll kiss under the rain and live happily ever after.
Who was he kidding, Katsuki hates the rain. He can’t do any dramatic, in-the-rain confessions, because he needs to do something that Katsuki likes, even if Katsuki himself will vehemently deny liking it.
”Hito-nii,” Eri whispers, and his train of thought is cut off. “You’re thinking very longly.”
Hitoshi scrunches his nose. “Longly isn’t a real word,” he informs her, then looks up to see their dads looking at him knowingly.
”Eri’s right, you were silent for a while,” Yamada says, clearly amused. “Wanna share with the class?”
”Not really.”
Aizawa sighs, and decides to sit next to him on the couch. Hitoshi stares at him suspiciously, hugging Eri closer as if their papa is some sort of threat. He’s less of a threat than their dad, but one can’t be too careful. Everyone knows Aizawa’s a little shit when he feels like it.
”Hitoshi, I know you, and I know you’re not the type to just fall in love with someone on a whim, or a shallow admiration. If anything, I’m sure that this student must be someone you trust deeply, someone very special to you.”
Hitoshi can feel his cheeks redden, but he doesn’t want to be a coward and hide behind Eri again.
Aizawa takes that as an answer, and nods. “And I’m sure that this trust goes both ways. You can do with your feelings whatever you want, but you coming to us means that you’re thinking of moving your relationship further than just friendship. But we can’t read your mind, so what do you really want to ask us?”
He has a point. Hitoshi did just drop the bomb of liking someone, but didn’t even elaborate on why he did it. Why did he come to them? It isn’t for the simple reason of venting, that’s for sure. He also isn’t looking for advice on how to move on, because Hitoshi knows what he wants, and it’s Katsuki.
Katsuki, in all his glory — his fiery passion and fierce spirit that infects anyone he’s with. Katsuki, whose drive to push forward inspires those around him to compete. Katsuki, who he’s gotten the privilege to get close to, all because of a chance meeting in the middle of the night in their common room. Katsuki, who he can share his problems to and not expect pity, someone who listens and doesn’t look at him like he’s something broken. Katsuki, whose words are never minced and always blunt, and it is that very thing that drew Hitoshi towards him. Katsuki, who never regarded Hitoshi’s quirk as something to fear, and calling those who insult it a “stupid motherfucker” for even second-guessing the usage of his quirk.
Katsuki, who he has spent his countless sleepless nights with because the boy trusted him enough to confide in him, for the same reason Hitoshi does. Katsuki, who cooks for Shinsou and beats his ass so that he’ll improve, because he knows he’s wormed his way into Katsuki’s heart. He doesn’t doubt that, and that’s the best thing he can ever experience.
Katsuki, whose heart is still so fragile, yet he’s still so determined to endure and to win. Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki.
Hitoshi knows what he wants. He doesn’t know if Katsuki wants the same thing, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t even try. To a lot of people, he may seem reserved, tired, and generally someone who drags himself around unless it's for hero work. But when he wants something, he’ll put in his all for it.
”I don’t know if he wants me the way I want him, but I want to tell him I like him either way. I just… don’t know how to, I guess. How did you guys end up going out?”
It feels awkward expressing his feelings, and he knows he’s making an odd face that vaguely seems like he swallowed a whole lemon, if the way his parents are looking at him says anything.
His dad seems to actually think about it, which surprises Hitoshi. Yamada looks at Aizawa next to him, and he smiles so softly that Hitoshi feels like he’s interrupting something.
“There was a time when your papa and I didn’t talk,” Yamada starts off, his voice wistful. It isn’t something Hitoshi would associate with his dad, and he feels slightly out of place. “It was sometime after our graduation. We lost contact for a while before meeting again. Something happened in our life a little while before that, so it wasn’t that surprising.”
”We lost someone close to us in our second year,” Aizawa adds, and Hitoshi understands that it’s a sore subject, but he stays quiet, playing with Eri’s hair. “We were grieving, and we chose our own ways. But Hizashi was still my friend, in the end. And he never stopped trying to reach out. I have him to thank for that, because if it wasn’t for him, I probably wouldn’t be here.”
His parents look at each other, and Hitoshi can tell that they’re having some sort of telepathic conversation that he and Eri won’t be able to decipher. His sister can sense the melancholic atmosphere, and she wriggles her way out of his hold and heads to their dad, hugging his legs as tight as possible.
Yamada laughs, and his voice is quiet, but very clearly fond. He lifts her up, kissing her forehead and his smile turns just the slightest bit brighter.
Hitoshi tilts his head. “And you’re both married now, yay. How did that happen?”
Aizawa huffs out a silent laugh, and the corner of Hitoshi’s lips quirk up. Mission success, weird atmosphere dispersed.
”Believe it or not, I was the one who asked him out.”
Hitoshi blinks. “What?” he says, very eloquently.
Yamada snickers, adjusting his hold on Eri. “It was during our early years when we first taught in U.A. We were grading papers when suddenly Shouta puffed up like a hissy cat, and then just said he liked me and that we should go out to the nearest cat cafe on the weekend.”
Hitoshi’s jaw drops.
“I was surprised, of course,” Yamada continues babbling, and his papa rolls his eyes affectionately. “Like, it was so sudden, and you know Shouta is a very rational person, so it was definitely eating at him for a while. And here we are, happily married with two of the best children we can ask for!”
Hitoshi’s jaw is still on the ground, and he slowly turns to look at his papa, who very graciously decides to use his hand and close his mouth for him.
“What the fuck.” Is all that escapes his mouth. Thank you, Hitoshi’s brain.
Aizawa pinches his side, to which he lets out a not-squeak. He glares at his papa, before his shoulders sag.
”So, it was just random? You just felt the need to ask him out?”
”Pretty much,” says Aizawa, who is looking very nonchalant. ”I was having a rough day, and everything was just bottling up. A heat of the moment kind of thing, but I don’t regret it.”
That… doesn’t help Hitoshi at all! He stuffs his face into his palms, dragging out a loud groan.
”Katsuki wouldn’t like that,” he mumbles to himself, lowering his hands from his face.
“What.”
Hitoshi freezes at his papa’s flat tone, and he can tell the other two occupants in the room are just as shocked. Pause, cancel, rewind. He didn’t mean to say it out loud.
Here’s the thing. Hitoshi can count on his papa to have his back for if he likes anyone in the class, in which case, he does. Here’s the other thing, everyone and their mother knows that Aizawa has a soft spot for Katsuki, and that Katsuki is his favourite student out of everyone in the class. No one questions it, and no one feels offended, because Katsuki deserves it, even if the boy himself is oblivious to the fact.
Hitoshi hasn’t revealed his crush’s identity, not only because he wants to avoid any potential teasing and embarrassment, but also because he knows his papa is as protective of Katsuki as he is with Hitoshi. Maybe even more, if he’s being honest. There’s something about watching your student die right in front of you, only to get revived again, that definitely messes with you. So, really, he doesn’t blame his papa for feeling that way. He understands, he really does. It’s just that it’s Hitoshi that likes Katsuki, and Aizawa will watch him like a hawk throughout this whole wooing process.
It is Eri that breaks the silence, her eyes sparkling with delight.
“Mr. Kacchan?” she whispers in awe, like she was bestowed upon a revelation that would change everything. “You like Mr. Kacchan? Really?”
He feels like Eri’s the only one who’s very excited, and that’s because she adores Katsuki. He doesn’t know much about their early interactions, but he knows that she loves imitating him. She’s somehow taken him (out of everyone) as some sort of idol, and Hitoshi knows even Katsuki’s confused on why.
He supposes there’s at least one person who’s confirmed to be giving him their blessings, and it just so happens to be Eri.
He answers the only way he can, in front of his staring parents.
”Who’s Kacchan? I don’t know a Kacchan.”
Eri grins, not even deterred by that. She looks at their dad, who’s smiling back at her with surprise, before the both of them look back at Hitoshi and Aizawa. Aizawa, who is staring at him like he’s trying to burn holes through Hitoshi’s brain.
Hitoshi looks at the ceiling, crossing his arms in what he hopes to be a casual manner. This may be the moment where he’s cut the string of his own guillotine, where he’s sending himself to his own execution. Does he have to find a sword? Because it damn well looks like his papa is ready to duel with him for Katsuki’s honour.
“Katsuki Bakugou.” Aizawa says, his voice monotone and scaring the shit out of Hitoshi. “My student. Ranked number three in his whole year. Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight. You’re in love with that Katsuki.”
Honestly, Hitoshi wasn’t even aware that Aizawa could recite Katsuki’s full government hero name without stuttering. He closes his eyes, praying to Susanoo-no-Mikoto to strike him down, which clearly doesn’t work, seeing as after ten seconds of silence he’s still here.
He takes a deep breath.
“There’s other Katsukis out there, papa,” Hitoshi defends himself, which is a useless thing to do. “You don’t know it’s Katsuki Bakugou.”
“Hitoshi, there’s literally only one Katsuki in your class.” Yamada butts in, totally unneeded.
Aizawa narrows his eyes at him, and Hitoshi sneakily slides away from him so there’s some needed space between them. He’s being scrutinized by his papa because he likes his favourite student, and Hitoshi just begs that he’ll survive this encounter so he can at least try to make a move on Katsuki.
”You’re serious,” Aizawa deadpans, and Hitoshi smiles in acceptance at the ceiling. “You like my student.”
”He did tell us it was his classmate,” Yamada points out, placing Eri on the ground. “It would’ve been your student either way, Shouta. You’re just doing a double-take because it’s your favourite student.”
Hitoshi can hear Aizawa’s frown. “I don’t have a favourite student,” his papa denies, like the big liar he is.
Eri runs up to Aizawa, very clearly the only one who’s visibly excited at this information. She tugs his scarf, rocking on her heels as her grin somehow widens.
”Papa! Does this mean Mr. Kacchan can become my brother, too? I can call him Kacchan-nii from now on? Does this mean he can cook for me every day?”
At least there’s someone enthusiastic about this whole fiasco. Hitoshi doesn’t know how to feel about it, actually. He feels very dead to the world, and he needs his prince charming to come kiss him so he can feel alive again.
It’s their dad’s turn to pout. “Is my cooking really that bad?”
“Dad’s cooking is really good! But… Mr. Kacchan’s cooking is the best! Did you know that he made me katsudon the other day? He even made the chicken make a funny face with seaweed!”
The woes of having a little kid is that they’re honest to a fault, but even Hitoshi can’t refute that statement. Sorry dad, but Katsuki’s cooking is practically Michelin Star worthy, beating every single restaurant in their vicinity. A plus point for when they get married, because Hitoshi can admire the view of Katsuki wearing an apron and cooking for the both of them for when they eventually get their own apartment. A dream come true. Please, Eri! Work your magic! Convince papa to let him take Katsuki’s hand!
Hitoshi glances at Aizawa, and can see the guy soften up like butter under Eri’s joyful demeanor. They’re off to a great start!
But then he sees their papa make a face, which Hitoshi assumes it’s because he is suddenly reminded of Eri’s question, to which he proceeds in his prior action of glowering at Hitoshi. Fan-fucking-tastic.
Hitoshi’s anything but a coward. In fact, he’s a big boy now, so he stares right back at Aizawa with the same dead eyes that have Todoroki questioning whether they share the same blood or not. They both know the answer is no, but Todoroki is insistent, and Hitoshi can’t blame him. He’s a carbon copy of his papa.
”I’m glad Bakugou made you katsudon, Eri, but let’s slow down on everything else,” Aizawa mutters, sounding like he’s aged ten years in the span of this whole conversation.
”Shouta! Are you really gonna deny Hitoshi the love of his life?” Yamada defends, but it’s clear he’s finding humour in it. No biggie, his dad is still defending him.
Aizawa looks wholly unimpressed, which is his default expression, but Hitoshi can feel the aura radiating even more than usual. “He’s 17, Hizashi. He hasn’t even gone through a mid-life crisis yet.”
”Excuse me,” Hitoshi frowns, feeling offended. “How dare you assume that about me? I- give me a moment. Eri, what’s 17 plus 17?”
“34!” she answers helpfully, and way too quickly. Man, what are they feeding children in kindergarten these days?
”Thank you, Eri. Papa, for all we know I might not even live past 34, so I could have very well had my mid-life crisis already.”
Aizawa moves closer, just to flick at Hitoshi’s large forehead. ”Don’t say that,” he huffs.
”Sorry, Papa.”
Aizawa falls silent once more, and it looks like it’s his turn to swallow a whole lemon. He’s contemplating, that Hitoshi is sure of. Eri’s looking up at Aizawa, buzzing with eagerness, like she’s the one that will get all the benefits of when Katsuki eventually dates him. Good for her, because Hitoshi’s the one that has to prove himself worthy of dating Katsuki.
“Are you sure you’re in love with Bakugou?” Aizawa asks in disbelief, as if the red string around Hitoshi’s finger wasn’t meant for Katsuki himself.
”Very sure.” Hitoshi nods, confident. “Like, I’m willing to get smacked in the face by a pan from Katsuki, because I love him and I’d thank him for it.”
Yamada raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think we needed to know that.”
Aizawa grunts. ”We didn’t.”
“Rapunzel!” states Eri, still looking up at their papa with stars in her eyes.
Very comical. He wishes Katsuki was here to witness this, but then he backtracks that thought, because Katsuki would totally make fun of him for this. He can hear Katsuki’s lovely, gruff voice cackling like a witch, and Hitoshi feels himself fall even more in love at the thought. They really were two assholes made for each other, and Hitoshi wishes for no one else to spend his life with.
The thought of Katsuki potentially not returning his feelings is something he’s considered, but he knows that Katsuki wouldn’t act weird about it. He’d just shut Hitoshi down, but their relationship wouldn’t change one bit. Hitoshi’s just left to pine for him forevermore, but he wouldn’t mind that. He’ll just drown himself in Asahi beer when he turns 20, and then fix himself because he’ll be damned if Katsuki ever saw him like that.
What is he even saying? That’s too depressing, even for Hitoshi, and it’s himself he’s talking about. He’s also certain Katsuki would avoid drinking beer, and would probably just go for expensive red wine, because Katsuki’s beautiful and expensive, even if he doesn’t admit it.
”You’re serious about this.”
Aizawa’s bewilderment is kind of funny, to be completely honest. It also feels slightly insulting to Hitoshi, but he’s not going to say anything about that.
”Papa, I’m very serious,” Hitoshi says in the most firm tone he can muster in his very tired state, which is firmer than he’d thought. “I’m going to woo Katsuki in every way possible so you both know I’m super fu- freaking serious. You’re going to be so annoyed, but I love him and I want him to know it and to hopefully reciprocate my feelings. If he doesn’t, that’s fine, I’ll just die a little inside but continue being friends with him, because I respect Katsuki’s feelings. I just need to try first, before anything else.”
His dad lets out an impressed whistle, and Eri claps in support. Thank you both. Hitoshi feels encouraged in the face of this very immovable cat in front of him.
“No.”
Hitoshi freezes.
“What?”
Aizawa stares at him, face devoid of any emotion. From his peripheral vision, he can see his dad looking as confused as Hitoshi feels, and just a little more panicked.
“Tough luck, Hitoshi,” Aizawa shrugs, like that one word didn’t just make his stomach churn. “You want my blessing right now? To — what, date Katsuki? It’s a no.”
Eri’s face falls, and Hitoshi faintly thinks to himself, “Same, Eri. Same.”
Yamada and Hitoshi gawk at Aizawa. Aizawa, who just told Hitoshi that he won’t get any of his blessings to have Katsuki, like he’s Katsuki’s guardian and his word is final. He feels his world crumbling, because not having Aizawa’s approval really hurts, even though he wouldn’t let it dictate whether or not he would ask Katsuki out. It just matters to him, more than Hitoshi likes to admit, because Aizawa is his papa.
Hitoshi just really wants his papa’s approval. He’s pretty sure Mr. Bakugou would be crying happy tears, if what Katsuki told him about his father is anything to go by. It’s stupid, to be so hung up over his own papa who’s not even Katsuki’s dad not giving Hitoshi his stupid approval right now and —
…
Wait a fucking minute.
He narrows his eyes at Aizawa, who meets his stare head-on, not even flinching. But Hitoshi sees it, the amusement in the way his papa’s lips are twitching, and the challenge he sees in his papa’s gaze.
Not right now. Hitoshi won’t be getting Aizawa’s approval right now, because he hasn’t done anything to earn it.
Hitoshi jumps up to his feet, very suddenly, as the implication sets in. Aizawa said no because this is some sort of stupid test his papa’s making him go through, and he’ll be damned if he fails. Well, even if he did, he’ll still get Katsuki.
Eri and Yamada jolt in surprise at his sudden action, and Hitoshi is grinning like a stupid fool. Maybe he is a stupid fool in love, but what person isn’t a fool in the face of love? He suddenly feels very giddy, which he knows is a creepy look on him, but his family is familiar with it, so who gives a fuck.
”You… bastard!” Hitoshi points to his papa, his grin not faltering. “Just you wait! I’ll win Katsuki’s heart, and you’ll have no choice but to give me your blessing!”
Hitoshi vaguely hears his dad in the background hysterically saying something that sounds like, “Blessing? Are you both getting married?”
Aizawa tilts his head to the side, as if egging Hitoshi on. “Really, Hitoshi? You’re all talk, but can you do it?”
Hitoshi’s grin, if possible, grows even wider. He reaches out to pick Eri up, who yelps, but otherwise looks at him with the same excitement he’s emitting. It’s infectious, it’s determination, and his papa will see that he’s so serious about this.
”Come on, Eri! We have a lot of planning to do, we’ll finish your homework later!” Hitoshi proclaims with a manic sort of glee, running away into his rooms with her in his arms, and her laughter floating through the air at his delight. “Just you wait, Papa!”
Yamada stands still, his expression mystified. He turns to Aizawa, puzzled.
”Shouta, what the fuck was that?”
Finally, Aizawa allows a small smile to creep onto his face.
”Get me some coffee, Hizashi,” is all he says, before flopping his body on the now empty couch.
Yamada only sighs, bemusement apparent on his face, but he goes along with his husband’s whims. God knows he can be a little shit when wants to.