Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

   “No.” He felt his stomach twisting as he refused for the nth time, “I’m going back to bed now, so get them the fu-” Taking a breath for control like he’d practiced with Kirishima, he managed to hiss out, “Get it out from between the door and the frame or else. ”

   Todoroki, the shit, had the nerve to let the laugh lines growing around his eyes crinkle. Katsuki still refused to acknowledge, even mentally, that most of his idiot friends had decided to call them ‘Tokoyami’s feet’ instead. Finding it somewhat disturbing to associate that asshole with years of accumulated wrinkles, he just sneered every time it was mentioned. As he tried to suppress the anger building from his current situation, the man opposite him reached down. Taking the hand of one of the curious little creatures that was trying to peek past Bakugou into his apartment, he implored, “I apologize, I really do. But you’re the only one with a day off-”

   “Yeah,” They’d already been through each possible argument over text, but Todoroki seemed unphased, as if he knew the mere sight of the tiny monsters was enough to melt Bakugou’s defenses. Not that he’d ever admit it. “My day off. As in for rest. Have you ever spent time with your kids? They’re demons. I have to try not to blow them up - Ah?! You hearing what I’m saying?” He shouted this last bit down at the child refusing to be corralled, even by the gentle tug of his father’s hand. Caught in the act of attempting to sneak his way past Katsuki, the boy flipped his white hair up to regard him with a pair of piercing blue eyes.

   Smiling.

   Fucking little shits.

   “I know, I know - Yukino, give him some space for a second, okay? But they love you for whatever odd reason, and they absolutely perked up when Momo told us you were free to babysit-”

   “And who.” He curled his hand into a fist where it rested on the doorframe, feeling his palm heat up. Barely managing to avoid burning the polished wood, he growled, “Gave her my fuc-gah.” Coughing to cover his slip-up, he shot a wary look at the children who were now eyeing his smoking hand with interest, “My schedule.”

   “Kirishima.”

   “The bas-” He inhaled through his nose, letting the smell of increasingly concentrated nitroglycerin calm him, “The shi- ahem. Red. Head. Idiot.” He grated out, purposefully shooting a look from Todoroki to the twins, “I don’t want to do this all day.”

   “It’s just till three. Kirishima can come pick them up after and take them to dinner. Don’t make me beg, Katsuki - I’m due at work soon.”

    "Half-and-Half." He warned, realizing with horror that he was allowing himself to be backed into a corner.

   “Don’t make me do it.” The Tokoyami’s feet - crow’s feet - around Todoroki’s eyes bloomed into a barely suppressed smile.

    "Don’t you dare-"

   “You leave me with no choice. Sons.” Todoroki grinned conspiratorially and squatted down next to his kids, “Don’t you think Kirishima is the better babysitter?”

    "You-”

   “No!” The little red head stamped his foot, “Uncle Bakugou is the best!”

   “But I like Kirishima.” Yukino smiled, catching onto his father’s antics before his brother. “Remember the time he styled our hair like his? That was so much fun!”

   “Oh yeah!” He clapped excitedly, “Kirishima was pretty awesome! But…” The gears behind those grey eyes began turning and catching up with the smirks his father and brother were giving him, “But - I don’t know, Uncle Bakugou is really cool, so I guess they’re equal.”

   Katsuki felt his willpower melt. Hotaru may not be the brightest individual, but he had a heart of gold. There wasn’t a mean bone in his body, and even with something as ridiculously obvious as the ploy they were pulling, he wouldn’t dare insult Katsuki’s pride by stating he was lesser than someone. When the boy grinned sheepishly up at him, he knew he was done for.

   But he did still have his pride.

   “Hah?! Equal? You little brats, I’ll show you who the number one babysitter is around here! Get your asses inside - if you haven’t had breakfast look in the fridge and think of something you want. And don’t you dare touch the nice looking bottles on the counter or I’ll fry the hair off your heads! You’ll be bald for months, you hear me?” He turned back to Todoroki when he heard the sound of the twins rummaging haphazardly through the fridge. “You." He jabbed a still warm finger into Todoroki’s left side, “Owe me. Big time.”

   “I know. Thank you, Katsuki.”

   Shooting a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure the kids hadn’t snuck back to say goodbye to their dad - cause they were spoiled and impolite little fucks, but they could damn well be sneaky when they wanted to - he hissed out, “Fucking Half-and-Half, I get to punch you in the damn face.”

   “We’ll discuss a sparring session later. But I really do need to head out. Tell them I said I love them. Please.”

   “Tch. Fine.” He slammed the door in his face.

   A crash sounded from inside the kitchen and Yukino’s voice let out a low, “Ooooo, you’re gonna be in trouble. ”

   Contrary to popular belief, Bakugou didn’t hate all kids.

   He fucking adored these two.

   He might not show it in the conventional way, but he truly never felt annoyance when the twins came to wreck his house. Whether it was lighting the drapes on fire, freezing the couch, or just normal child-associated mayhem, he mostly found himself repressing a smile.

   So when he heard Hotaru’s desperate attempts to fucking ice over whatever he’d broken, he grinned and made a couple loud explosions in his hands, “Oi.” He growled, barely managing to suppress his smile into a neutral scowl, “Did I hear something break?”

   Rounding the corner to his kitchen, he saw Hotaru standing amongst a small pile of ice that was once an expensive bottle of wine Iida had gifted him.

   “N-no.” Hotaru grinned guiltily, the ice behind him extending to cover the blood-red stain on the tile.

   “Hotaru broke one of the nice looking bottles!” Yukino supplied like the traitorous little heathen he was. And Bakugou loved him for it.

   “Clearly.” He raised his palms and produced a slightly louder explosion, “Now. Let’s see if your dad loves you enough to tell you apart when neither of you has any hair.” Yukino yelped, though there was a giggle hiding somewhere in there as he grabbed Hotaru’s hand and dashed.

   What ensued was about an hour of hide-and-seek. Somewhere along the line, Katsuki turned into a rampaging villain, while the kids became valiant heroes on a quest to defeat him. He eventually let himself be bested with a twin attack: the most precious little burst of fire to the face distracted him, while the flimsiest ice ‘held’ his feet to the floor.

   He groaned, “Ugh! This is why I hate having you two around - you always defeat me!” As Yukino melted his feet, effectively ‘freeing’ him, he knelt down to pull the twins closer, “Hey now, neither of you got cut or anything by the glass in the kitchen, right? Should’ve checked earlier, but you seemed to be fine.”

   “We’re good.” Hotaru smiled, reaching up towards the cheek Yukino shot fire at, “Did you get burned?”

   “Naw,” He gently batted the cooling palm away, “I’m more than used to fire, you know that.” He got back up and took each of them by the hand, “Are you two hungry still?” When they nodded, he prompted further, “Then what the hel- uh, what on earth do you want?”

   “Omelets!” Hotaru supplied.

   “The angry ones you make us!” His brother added.

   “Fine, fine. By the way, your father said he loved you or some other crap.”

   He sat them down at the table, cleaning up the puddle of glass and watered-down wine before pulling an apron on. When he was first requested to make food for them, he’d learned that Todoroki and Momo - the disgustingly doting parents that they are - made all the twins’ meals adorned with cute faces and the like. He was hard-pressed to join in this habit, but after multiple occasions where the children seemed less than thrilled, going so far as to refuse to eat certain things - spoiled monsters - he crumbled and made angry faces in ketchup all over their omelets.

   They fucking adored that.

   “You better be doing your homework,” He shot over his shoulder, realizing that the two kids at the kitchen table had their phones out, tracking their parents and ‘extended Yuuei family’ in the news.

   As he plated the last omelet, arranging some lettuce around it to look like Deku’s hair - they loved the nerd for some fucking reason - he heard their protests start up. He was willing to listen to their whines only because he would hear how his friends were doing without actually having to look them up himself. Which he never did, because they were grown ass heroes and he didn’t need to waste his time on that sort of thing.

   “But Kirishima and Iida are fighting a villain with a gigantification quirk!” Yukino began moving his hands in motions that strangely resembled the newest Ingenium. Trying not to laugh, Katsuki approached them silently. As he set the two plates down in front of them, he bopped the white-haired boy on the head lightly with his elbow.

   “Don’t move your arms like that, it’s weird.” He peeked over their shoulders, watching the small live-stream of his friends fighting. His eyes caught on the bright crimson of Kirishima’s hair and followed his movements. “What an idiot,” he mumbled as Red Riot took a blow meant to crush him under the villain’s foot, but instead knocked the monster off balance as the hero pushed back.

   The kids ate as they watched, not seeming to notice Bakugou behind them scowling almost fondly at the screen. When the day was saved and Kirishima was pulled aside to talk to the press, his excited personality drew the livelier reporters to him from the more “professional” Iida.

   “Tch, he still blushes when there are too many cameras on him. What a nerd.” With a sigh and one last, lingering look, he closed the tab on their phone, much to their chagrin. “Shut up, you two. Get some work done - it’s not like Kirishima’ll make you do it. Do you really wanna go home tonight and have to stay up late doing work?”

   The twins pouted, but after minimal scolding pulled out their homework. He cleaned up their breakfast and made a quick sandwich for himself. After checking to make sure there was a while left before they were finished, he decided to go rest.

   “Oi, I’m gonna be in the living room. Come get me when you’re done and we can go out and do something.” Plopping down on the couch, he turned on his favorite soap opera - that those brats better never tell anyone he watched - and kicked back. He never actually watched it, just listened to the drama unfold. It… kinda reminded him of high school; just listening to people in the class around him laugh, throw shade, and argue about things he didn’t really pay any mind to. It was kind of nostalgic.

   Not that he’d admit it.

   He dozed off somewhere between two chicks fighting over some guy’s not-so-dead twin - even though he was pretty sure they were both with the original dude still.

   A rookie mistake.

   The dozing off, that was; not the weird love-quadrangle.

   He barely registered a whispered countdown before his ears were assaulted with a shrill “One!” that punctuated two projectile bodies slamming into his stomach. It was something he could have completely avoided, but not without possibly harming the twins, so he let them carry out their sneak attack. He emitted the appropriate dying whale noises they’d sought after, before finally declaring war and chasing them around a bit more.

   However, when they ran through the kitchen, he paused to glance over the work lying forgotten on the table. While it gave the kids a chance to hide, it was mostly because even though he wanted them to have fun, above all else he was duty-bound to be a responsible guardian. After he made sure everything was correct and completed, he began an ostentatious search for them throughout his house, boardering a ‘fee-fi-fo-fum’ level of playfulness.

   This time he chose to be the victor at the end of the chase, quickly catching the twins and pulling them into a bear hug. He gave them his best evil-villain laugh, which sounded more like Yuuei’s principal than he cared to think about, and they replied with squealed giggles. They kicked at his now bruised ribs, driving him to get a bit carried away in his continued groggy state (who said he wasn’t awesome enough to outsmart and catch a top hero’s kids while half-asleep?). Booming as loud as he could, he shouted, “Looks like I’ve caught you two! What should I do then, Hah? Shave off your hair? Tickle you to death? Make you eat broccoli?"

   That got the twins spasming with fits of laughter, though as he continued his list of increasingly innocent and ridiculous threats, he heard them suddenly sputter and try to stifle their mirth. Confused, he looked more closely at what they were doing. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he followed their wide-eyed gazes towards the door of the living room.

   Besides him, only one person had a key to his house.

   But that person was most definitely not supposed to be here till evening. And most definitely not supposed to see Bakugou ‘The Explosion King’ Katsuki being a fucking softy and playing with children.

   A shocked and pleased grin, full of shark’s teeth, radiated under that shitty red hair.

   The kids were the only ones making any noise, little bodies shaking with snickers as the adults stared each other down, neither willing to make the first move.

   After what felt like an eternity of Bakugou internally screaming and wishing he could go back in time, Kirishima spoke up, laughter filling his words, “We could always take them to Uncle Kaminari’s for dinner.”

   The kids groaned and roared, trying to suppress their laughter while they denied such a punishment. As they bemoaned Denki’s lack of cooking skills, Kirishima shot a wink at Bakugou, dropping a heavy bag full of hero gear down onto the couch. Still stunned that he was caught, Katsuki remained dumbfounded, eyes twitching at the encroaching redhead.

   “Now, now, struggling gets you nowhere.” Eijirou giggled - fucking giggled, ‘cause fuck if Shitty Hair could act like anything other than some precious, manly asshole for one goddamned second of his life - and reached under the twins arms to tickle them.

   Snapping out of it when Hotaru aimed a particularly brutal kick to the bruise forming over his ribs, he growled low in his throat. “Oi, what the fuck are you doing here?”

   All three gasped, and he flinched.

   “Bakugou Katsuki! Language!” Eijirou crossed his arms, his previous villainous act momentarily forgotten, “It’s unmanly to curse in front of children like that!”

   “How does that fucking- Shit- I mean.” Dropping the kids to the ground carefully - but angrily - he growled, “Whatever! Fine! No more cursing!”

   Shooting him an indulgent smile, Eijirou fluffed up the twins’ hair, “I apologize for Uncle Bakugou’s foul language. But not to fear!” Mimicking All Might rather horribly, he added, “Because I am here!” The kids ate it up, and even though he rolled his eyes, he still felt a fond ache burn within his chest. “And sorry to barge in early, but when Shouto called me up about this I felt kinda bad. You know, since it’s your break and all, so I took a half-day.”

   Gruffly shrugging, struggling to regain the scowl that usually felt so natural on his face, Katsuki huffed in thanks.

   But of course, Eijirou being Eijirou, he pushed a bit further, “Though it seems I was worrying over nothing. You appear to be having quite a bit of fun.”

   “Shut up.” He snapped, though none of the people in the room bought it.

   At least Eijirou didn’t comment on the drama playing in the background, leaving Bakugou to subtly turn it off while he sat down and regaled the children with a first-hand account of his battle that morning. When he was done, the twins began demanding a trip to the park, trying to make good on Bakugou’s earlier promise of a field trip.

   Kirishima seemed pleased by this, and sent them off to gather their things. When they disappeared into the kitchen, he got up and practically stalked towards Bakugou. “Katsuki.”

   “Shut up.”

  "Katsuki.”

   “Shut up.”

   “That.” Two arms were allowed to circle around his waist, “Was absolutely.” A kiss was allowed to push his cheek up into his eye, making him growl without any real bite behind it. "Precious.”

   “Shut up.” He said with less intensity this time, placated by the sudden affection. He returned the hug casually, like he didn’t really care whether or not he pulled his boyfriend any closer.

   “Man, you make me want to have a dozen children with you.”

   Feeling a pleased sort of embarrassment burn up his neck, he mumbled quietly so the twins wouldn’t hear him, “We don’t even live together and you already fuckin’ want kids? What kind of a relationship do you think this is?”

   “One where I’m head over heels for you.” Kirishima answered honestly, with only a slight blush marring his features.

   “I’ll never comprehend how you can just say, let alone think embarrassing bullshit like that.” He dug a hand into Eijirou’s hair and began lazily messing around with it, “I bet it’s all the gel killing your brain cells.”

   Laughing, Kirishima tugged him into a rib-crushing hug, burying his nose in Katsuki’s neck, “No, it’s just how overwhelmingly much I adore you.” When he tried landing a gentle blow to Eijirou’s side, the other just tightened his grip, “And it’s totally manly to express your feelings, you know?”

   “Shut up. The kids are zipping up their backpacks now, so get off of me, you hunk of rock.”

   With a parting kiss to his cheek, Eijirou slipped away, grinning from ear to ear, “I’m serious about the dozen kids thing.”

   Short-circuiting momentarily at the visual of Eijirou and him having twelve adorable children of their own, he almost missed the twins entering the room. He shook himself to get rid of any of residual sappy thoughts and paternal instincts these idiots drew out of him. Throwing another good-natured punch at Eijirou, he grumbled, “We’ll have to discuss that number later.”

   The smile shot at him was so utterly lovestruck - so purely stupid - that he felt his heart skip a couple beats and his face heat up. Before he could get drawn back into any mushy feelings, he growled, “Start heading out and let me go change into some legit clothes. I’ll catch up with you.”

   As he walked to his room, he waited until he heard the door shut behind them. Immediately turning towards the wall, he rested his forehead against it, seeking some peace of mind.

   “Fuck.” He muttered, brain producing no helpful thoughts beyond increasingly numerous fantasies of Eijirou. Walking around with a small blonde child on his shoulders, holding the hands of two little redheads, sitting down for a family dinner, napping on the couch together, tucking the kids in, taking them to school…

   He banged his head into the wall, trying to knock all the images out.

   “Fuck.” He repeated, like it would help at all.

   Taking a deep breath to collect himself, he put on his best scowl and marched into his room to dress himself. He took his sweet time locking up the house, all the while attempting to convince himself how not sappy he was. He simply must be coming down with some horrible illness that was making him act like this. Of course. That was the only logical explanation.

   When he finally did catch sight of Eijirou walking down the street, his heart stuttered. The three were laughing as the twins struggled to stay perched on his shoulders. The two grappled at his hair for some sort of stability, giggling while Eijirou attempted to balance them.

   He stopped walking, just watching for a second, imagining the twins as their own kids.

   Ah, fuck.

   He sighed, feeling something twist and settle in his chest.

   He was gonna need to call Mina - no. Fuck that.

   Starting to walk forward, he began going through the rest of the girls he knew.

   Hagakure was out of the question, he didn’t know her well enough. Tsuyu was trustworthy, but she was too honest; he would likely blow up and back out if he had to listen to her teasing. Same went for Jirou. Uraraka would tell Deku and like hell he wanted that nerd to be one of the first to know that -

   He cursed under his breath, feeling his shoulders pinch together as he stalked towards where Eijirou was goofing around with the kids.

   It would need to be Momo.

   He hated that it would have to be her, ‘cause then he had no excuse when she came to pick up the kids later. He’d have to ask her right away or consider himself a coward - and he wasn’t a fucking coward, dammit! He just needed… time. To be sure of things.

   He felt the scowl deepen the wrinkles of his forehead.

   There was no worrying about what-ifs, he knew for a fact just how things would go.

   Well. How Eijirou would respond.

   He was more terrified of his own actions, if he was being honest. Sometimes he wondered idly when Shitty Hair would realize just how much of a shitshow his personality was and flee, but that grin persistently became more loving by the minute.

   Fuck.

   He felt his hands smoking, some ‘extra’ getting nervous and shooting him a worried look. When he growled in response, the poor passerby quickly skittered off.

   Momo would probably ask him specifics, but…

   He looked up to see Eijirou holding the twins’ hands as they walked, the pair having given up their earlier endeavor.

   Fuck if that man didn’t deserve the best.

   He sighed, scratching the back of his head. His stomach churned in a way that would have been indicative of nervousness, had Katsuki ever been capable of such a thing.

Chapter Text

   After a long day at the park, the twins somehow managed to start a miniature forest fire - Okay, so it was Bakugou who did it, but they had promised to keep quiet about the whole fiasco. It wasn’t his fault he got so into his villainous roles when playing around, it was just too much fun.

   Kirishima gave all three a strict lecture, though he kept his misgivings about the particular chemical smell of the flames to himself. When he was finished, the sun was already setting and a slightly peeved Kamui Woods had arrived to calm any concerned civilians. Using the hero as a distraction, they decided to quickly make their escape before someone snapped incriminating photos of their failings as guardians.

   Halfway back home, the twins began to show signs of exhaustion, and without a second thought Bakugou scooped Hotaru up in his arms, muttering about how slow their stubby legs were. Hotaru had no complaints, simply snuggling up against Katsuki’s warm hoodie, while Yukino made only a half-hearted attempt at seeming displeased when Eijirou hefted him into his arms.

   Within minutes, the two were sound asleep, and Eijirou was giving Katsuki this heart-melting smile that made him want to initiate a hug.

   He resisted the urge to do so, replying instead with a begrudging smile that eased over his features more naturally than he wished to admit. Eijirou moved closer so their shoulders touched, and they slowed their pace to enjoy the relative quiet. They didn’t speak for a while, but as they walked up the path to his house, Katsuki gruffly muttered, “You can sleep on the couch. I’ll hand the kids off to Momo when she gets here.”

   As he balanced Hotaru on one hip to fish the keys out of his pocket, he was shocked to feel a gentle press of lips to his back. “Thank you.” Eijirou muttered, a soft cheek coming to rest on his unoccupied shoulder.

   He took a bit longer retrieving his keys from his pocket than absolutely necessary, telling himself it was because he had to try not to move his arms too much or he’d disturb the idiots dozing against him. When he finally opened the door, he was surprised to see just how sleepy Eijirou was, needing to usher him in with a rough, “Get a move on, or I won’t let you have a blanket or pillow.”

   After he’d settled Kirishima and the twins on the couch, he went to rummage around his room for the promised items. When he returned, he noticed none of the morons had turned on any lights, having just immediately passed out. With no one looking, he allowed himself to smile slightly - only slightly - as he tucked them all in. Each of them muttered and complained as he moved their ungrateful asses into positions that wouldn’t cause them neck aches later on; yet he didn’t feel any real annoyance, just a fond sort of irritation.

   He left a soft kiss on Eijirou’s forehead before stepping out of the house quietly.

   Sitting down on his doorstep, he stared at his phone accusingly until he realized that being angry at an inanimate object wasn't a valid reason for stalling.

   Sucking it up, he dialed Momo.

   He felt his leg jittering and his face scrunching up uncomfortably as the ringing continued for what seemed like an eternity, thankful when the tone suddenly picked up. “Bakugou? Is everything alright?” Barely concealed maternal worry sharpened each of her words.

   “Yeah, why wouldn’t there fucking be?”

   “Well, you’ve never called before…” He heard the familiar sound of something being created from her body, “Here you go, Jirou.”

   Fuck. Of course she was working with Jirou.

   “So what did you need? Is it the twins?”

   “No… And don’t fucking act shocked or anything, I don’t want Jirou listening in.”

   “Alright.” She answered pleasantly, not at all concerned.

   “Great. Now she’s gonna be suspicious.” He growled, ducking his head between his knees as he felt his face grow warm, “She better not be jacked into the line or whatever.”

   He heard a scuffle, followed by Jirou’s disappointed squeal accompanying a door slamming shut. A lock clicked purposefully. “She’s gone. Now, what are you being so suspicious about?”

   Fumbling for an answer, he realized vaguely that he was only capable of taking deep breaths as he tried desperately not to blow up his phone in embarrassment.

   “...Katsuki?” Momo tried softly, and that only highlighted the fact that she could hear his panicked - like he could lie to himself about this, he was freaking the fuck out - breathing. “It’s okay, just… Is it Eijirou?”

   “Yes.” He managed to grate out.

   “Is… everything okay?”

   It took him a couple seconds to respond, fingers digging sharply into his scalp as he tried to breathe through this moment of weakness. “Yeah, I just need-” He felt the words die on his tongue, soured by helplessness, “I could… be bothered… to use… your advice.”

   He knew he had made the right choice when she responded, not with teasing, but with a genuine and sweet, “I would love to be of use. What can I do for you?”

   He felt his throat constrict with sudden relief, glad that his pride was going to somehow make it through this, “I…” He checked to make sure no one was around before quickly asking, “Do you know where to find the best engagement ring?”

   The soft squeak she emitted almost made him want to burn the phone to ash and bury his head under the rose bushes Kirishima had made him plant in his front yard.

   ‘Cause they were prickly and beautiful like their owner.

   Fucking sappy-ass moron.

   Recovering quickly, but unable to hide the excitement in her tone, Momo responded, “Well, I do know a couple places. However, it would be in your best interest to go through all of them and get ideas before deciding on something. Or you could try customization?”

   He flushed, terrified by the realization that his sense of perfection would demand he have control over every little detail. This wasn't something that he could just settle with a 'good enough.'

   Not when it was for Eiji. 

   He groaned as if in physical pain.

   “Custom then?” She guessed, a smile in her voice. “I can’t make you one, but I can give you prototypes of any rough designs you would like to throw at me.”

   Once again, he was overcome with gratitude, grumbling, “Half-and-Half doesn’t fucking deserve you, you know that?”

   She laughed, joking a bit as she replied, “Oh, I know.”

   There was a silence that wasn’t entirely awkward before he sighed, “I better get back inside in case one of them wakes up.”

   “They’re sleeping?” She cooed softly, “Could you take a picture for me?”

   “Sure. Whatever.”

   “Thank you, Katsuki. For everything.”

   “Shut up. I should be the one tha-” He bit his tongue, but not before he noted the shock lacing her silence. He tried rescuing the sentence, “Be th… th…”

   “It’s okay-”

   The soft tone of her voice, as if she were worried he were pushing himself too hard, made his cheeks heat up. As if he couldn’t fucking thank someone? Just to prove her wrong he shouted, a little too loudly, “I said I should be thanking you! Fucking hurry up and come get your kids out of my hair!” He tried to hang up so forcefully that the phone didn't register his angry swipes. After three furious attempts, he finally hung up successfully, breathing labored as he struggled to determine whether or not his pride was injured. Though, as his words echoed throughout the sleepy neighborhood, he was leaning towards ‘most definitely injured.’

   He took a second to compose himself before shuffling angrily back inside. He turned the living room lights on low, making sure to stay quiet as he snapped a quick picture of the kids curled up against Kirishima’s chest. Yukino was drooling steadily on Eijirou’s shirt, and small bits of ice were forming where the damp area was closest to Hotaru. The man himself was dead to the world, mouth hanging open around subtle snores.

   He took another picture, this time focused on Eijirou.

   He sent the image of the kids to Momo - and then Todoroki as an afterthought.

   About to close out of the app, he paused. As if possessed, he shot a copy to Kaminari, Sero, and Mina.

   Ignoring the responses other than Momo’s “Thank you so much!” he turned the lights back off and adjusted the blankets so that they covered the twins' feet. The idiots had a habit of kicking them out from under the covers and tangling up the sheets, but being a bit of a freeze-baby himself, he worried they would make themselves cold.

   Huffing at the adorable atmosphere suddenly stifling his living room, he moved into his kitchen to grab a much needed snack. As he sucked on a juice box, which was technically only in his possession for these surprise babysitting gigs, he idly scrolled through the rest of his photos. After each picture, he felt his ears begin to burn a tad more, realizing just how many had Kirishima as the focal point.

   And just how much he enjoyed seeing that idiot’s face.

   Turning the phone off when he could no longer take the squeezing sensation in his chest, he stared out his window into the night, letting his thoughts wander.

   Eventually, he realized the feeling wasn’t letting up, and he growled, “Fucking heartburn.” Just to prove to himself that he actually believed he was, in fact, experiencing heartburn, he dug through his cabinet to take a bit of medicine.

   Not long after, with the ache refusing to go away and his thoughts lingering on a particularly sharp-toothed idiot, he heard a soft knock at his front door. He unlocked and threw it open as he passed, leaving behind a gruff, “Keep it down.”

   Momo stepped in quietly, giving him a sweet smile. He ignored it in favor of slinging the twins' backpacks over his shoulder before extricating Yukino from the blankets to hand to her. “You get the drooler.”

   She smiled and nodded, kissing her son on the head and holding him close, not minding as her shoulder became damp near instantaneously. While he removed Hotaru from the blankets, Kirishima began to stir, eyes glazed as he grumbled incoherently. Without a second thought - because he'd lost his cool today for some fucking reason - he kissed Eijirou’s forehead and muttered, “I’ll be right back.”

   This earned him a slightly happier grumble. With his free hand, he adjusted the blankets around his boyfriend one last time before nodding for Momo to head back out. He helped her buckle the twins into their car seats, trying not to chuckle when Yukino sleepily pushed her away and tried to set the flameproof seatbelts on fire in annoyance. She snorted, overpowering him and giving him a swift kiss on the forehead. Hotaru was much easier to get settled in, so in the meantime he rummaged through the bags of emergency parenting supplies their family always kept everywhere. He pulled out Mini-Todoroki sized throws, tucking in Hotaru before handing the other off to Momo so she could wrap Yukino up more securely.

   He shut the door as quietly as possible, so focused on not being his usually explosive-self that he didn’t notice Momo rounding the car till she was right beside him.

   “Katsuki?” She asked.

   “What?”

   She opened her mouth as if to say something, but thought better of it, shaking her head a bit. When she looked back up to him, she smiled and simply said, “I’m just so happy you’re in our lives now - and I am so proud of you.” Before he could respond with anger to the last bit, she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed, “I can’t wait until the wedding.”

   “Shut up, I don’t even have a ring-”

   “Of course.” Her smile told him that she didn’t give a shit about what he’d just said, “Anyway, I’d best be off. I’ll text you when I’m free this week to go shopping, if you want someone to sift through the options with you.”

   “Fine.” He muttered, feeling that unwelcome sensation of gratitude creeping back up his throat.

   “Tell Kirishima I said hello, and thanks.”

   “Of course.” He stepped back from the car and waited to make sure they got out onto the street okay, knowing his driveway was a bit hard to navigate at night due to the large walls enclosing his property. When they were out of sight, he went back inside, locking the door behind him. “All right, let’s get your lazy ass to bed.” He muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

   He snagged Eijirou from the couch, carrying him up the stairs to his bedroom. He took pride in how Kirishima didn’t seem to notice, even though he wasn't certain as to whether or not it was his attempts at gentleness or the idiot’s deep sleep which kept him from waking.

   Whatever it was, he didn’t care. Just so long as he continued snoozing away against his chest. When he finally laid him down on his bed, Eijirou snuffled in discontent and began reaching out blindly for him. A fond warmth flooded his heart, compelling him to lace their fingers together as red eyes fluttered open. For that moment, Katsuki could give a shit if he was caught smiling, it wasn't like Kirishima would remember in the morning.

   “Katsu...ki.” Eijirou yawned around his name, sharp teeth glinting in the dim light, somehow endearing him to Bakugou all the more.

   “Yeah, yeah, lemme get dressed for bed, like a responsible fuckin’ adult.” He teased, though it was clearly lost on Kirishima, since the man smiled lovingly at him as if he’d just recited a sonnet instead of insulting him. He quickly changed and crawled into bed, pulling the covers around them and curling against Eijirou to rest his head on his chest.

   After months of Kirishima stating over and over again how it really wasn’t unmanly to cuddle, Bakugou had finally conceded.

   It was totally manly to cuddle one’s boyfriend.

   He shifted to get more comfortable, dropping a kiss over Kirishima’s heart.

   Well, if Eiji were the only one to see him do it.

   Content, he grumbled a bit about the things Momo had asked him to convey, complaining soon after about Yukino’s drooling and Kirishima’s snoring, then just trailed off to mutter about this and that. He didn’t like to admit it to himself, but he knew Eijirou understood that these complaints were just his way of telling him what he enjoyed about his day. Through his drowsy rant he felt those strong arms draw around him tighter, every now and then feeling a sleepy kiss against his hair.

   As he finally felt his thoughts growing fuzzier, a hand trailing lazy circles over his back, he became absolutely certain that he’d made the right decision. He knew he was easily embarrassed over these feelings, but he was never one to deny himself anything he wanted - and he wanted this. Every night. Every morning.

   Mind fogged with warm thoughts, he drifted away into sleep.

Chapter Text

   The air was thick with falling leaves, the scent of them rising after every carefree footfall. He smiled as they practically waded through shin-high detritus...together. The sunlight drifted in, painted with autumn colors, while every sound was dampened by the sheer entirety of the forest stretching for miles around them. Adding on to this was the strange, dragging pace of their journey - leaving him feeling adrift in an ethereal ocean.

   “It’s warm.” He whispered, breath fogging the air around him and making him smile wider.

   “It’s freezing as fuck out, Shitty Hair.” As if his volume weren’t the only thing softened, Bakugou had been noticeably less volatile since they’d left behind any trace of civilization. His words were still sharp, but there was something near sleepy about them - and maybe that was what was so amazing to Kirishima. Alone, just the two of them, Bakugou had obtained an almost gentle tone that made Eijirou feel… special?

   Perhaps there was a better word…

   He turned to look at the man behind him, surprised to see his gaze so intensely trained upon him. His usual scowl rested over his features, but his eyes weren’t hard, simply searching. “Why are you smiling so damn much?” A twitch of Bakugou’s upper lip morphed his features into a pout for little more than a second, “Oi, are you even listening?”

   Adored.

   Kirishima smiled, his entire body heating up with a pleasant warmth. Feeling his ears tingle with the blood that ran to them, he turned to look back up the landscape’s steady incline, “Yeah, yeah, I’m listening.”

   He’d been surprised to be approached by Katsuki and invited to go hiking over winter break. Bakugou had been so aggressive about the whole thing, it had made him wonder if they weren't coming out here just to spar without supervision, but luckily that worry had dissipated quickly. The man with him now was so different from the high-strung perfectionist he knew in their daily lives, he couldn't imagine that this was meant to be training of any kind. By removing all the extensive triggers to his ever-shortening fuse, Bakugou had given Kirishima the luxury of relaxing together.

   And for the past couple hours, as they let their feet take them where they would, he had begun to entertain the idea that maybe…

   He shot another smile over his shoulder, knowing the flush on his cheeks was still prominent, and met with that steady gaze once more. Before Bakugou could say another snide comment, he slowed down to match his friend’s pace while maintaining their silence. The other seemed to realize and appreciate this, his eyes every now and then trailing back up to meet Kirishima’s as if it were the most normal thing in the world to quietly exchange glances in an autumn-wonderland.

   And maybe it was.

   Maybe it could be.

   Kirishima wanted so desperately for it to be.

   Eventually, as the light began to cast more shadows, Bakugou spoke up. “We’re close to a good campsite, follow me.”

   “Oh, you come out here often?”

   The other leveled him with a long look as they walked, “Yeah. Usually. My mom’s family hikes a lot. Something about the air being good for our temperaments.”

   “I can see that.” Kirishima smiled at Bakugou’s lazy scowl, and continued, “I like this side of you too, man. It’s nice.”

   Bakugou huffed a cloud of disbelief into the dimming light around them, traces of it brushing Kirishima’s cheeks. He wondered, embarrassingly enough, how often he actually got to be a part of the air his friend breathed, and ached to share more of the same space as him. Interrupting his thoughts, Bakugou grumbled, “Are you saying you actually like who I am normally?”

   “Always.” Kirishima grinned when Katsuki glared daggers back at him, “Even at your worst, always.”

   Bakugou stumbled a bit and turned abruptly to stare him down. It became abundantly clear just how close to a confession he’d come, but the heavy moment was diffused instantaneously with a gruff “Weirdo.”

   Letting out the breath he'd been holding, Kirishima sighed in relief and followed his friend to what could barely be called a clearing. “Here?”

   “Here. Look up, Shitty Hair.”

   Sure enough, gaze rising, he noticed that - while the ground had little open area to offer - the way the trees had wound and cracked and fallen over the years had gifted them with a magnificent view of the dusky sky above. “Holy shit.”

   “Idiot. Get your head out of the clouds and come help me set up a tent.”

   The night closed in not too long after, finding them sitting across a fire from one another. It wasn’t exactly what Kirishima had had in mind, but the distance seemed to make his friend comfortable, so he respected that. Soon after, he began to realize that perhaps the air of the forest truly was an amazing remedy for excitability - his own itch to fill up silence with conversation dulled to a pleasant appreciation of the softened moments they were sharing.

   Though, that wasn’t to say he didn’t crave Bakugou’s tenor. So eventually he tilted his head back and whistled low, “That really is one hell of a sky.”

   “That’s just the sky, you idiot. It’s always like that.”

   “Yeah.” Glancing at Bakugou, noticing that his eyes were still trained on him, he smiled, “But in different places it shows different colors. In a quiet forest like this, it shines.”

   “I’ll kick your ass.”

   “For complementing the sky?” He teased.

   “Fucking- whatever.” Bakugou huffed into his palms, “It’s too cold out for this.”

   “Mmm,” wanting to offer a bit of snuggling, but noticing his friend’s skittish behavior, he simply responded, “Yeah, it’s kinda chilly.”

   An agreeable grunt preceded a couple explosions in Bakugou’s palms as he rubbed his hands together. Kirishima smiled, unable to hide the fondness he felt easing his features, not caring worth a damn when Bakugou met his eyes and stilled. “What?”

   “I’m just happy, man. It’s nice hanging out here with you.” He stretched a bit, “If you hadn’t offered this trip, I’d just be at home.”

   The predictable counter of “where you’d be warm” only served to morph his features into one of heart-wrenching adoration.

   “I’m warm enough here.”

   Bakugou’s face bloomed into something akin to shock, and his head reflexively snapped away, but he didn’t say anything to argue the statement. His gaze eventually found the fire, pointedly ignoring how Kirishima had eyes only for him. Eijirou wondered absently whether those red cheeks were from the cold or embarrassment, but before he could evaluate this more closely, he found himself asking, “Why do you always tie your scarf that way?”

   “Hah?” That familiar scowl made its appearance once more.

   “You complain about how your neck gets cold easily, but you always tie it so that it exposes your skin when you move.”

   “What?” Insulted, Bakugou began to redo his scarf, “Like hell I do!”

   “Mmhm.”

   After a couple attempts of Bakugou tying, checking for gaps in his fluffy armor, and retying his scarf, Kirishima took pity on him.

   “Here.”

   He felt strange, how Bakugou suddenly tried to scramble away from him when he rounded the fire. How Kirishima didn’t give him space when he so obviously wanted some. How he simply forced his way in front of his friend and made him sit still with firm hands on his shoulders. He knew, deep inside somewhere, that this was what needed to be done, but it felt like something he’d never even think of doing on his own. So much so that it made his limbs tingle with an out-of-body sensation.

   “Shh.”

   Had he just hushed Bakugou Katsuki?

   He felt the rough fluff of the scarf’s fabric slide and catch on his fingers as he adjusted it. He enjoyed the experience of two foggy breaths mingling in the same air. Bakugou’s hair shifted against his hands, and he now knew what it felt like to touch cold fingers to Katsuki’s skin and have him comply merely with a silent and startled breath.

   He knew what cracks in Bakugou’s mask of rage looked like. He knew how to track them as they splintered and reached further out, from his parted lips to the slow easing of his frown - to the softening of his eyes.

   He felt the fire at his back, heating his shoulders to a dull burn.

   As he tucked the scarf into the edges of the coat, he kept his eyes down, avoiding that gentle, awed stare. “Better?” He whispered, fiddling with the fabric as an excuse.

   “Yeah.”

   And when he met those eyes again, even though they were filled with longing and locked on his lips - he knew it wasn’t time yet. So he rose from his kneeling position and sat back down across the crackling flames, the cold washing over his back and waking him from this strange dream, “Right. So, dinner?”

   He waited patiently for Bakugou’s mask to reassemble, playing with the hearth in the meantime. After long moments, his friend silently began to prepare their food.

   The next day, as he stretched in the cool morning air, wondering about the events of the prior night, he nearly missed the way Bakugou grew increasingly stiff and uncomfortable as he stomped around the campsite. When he finally noted the strange behavior, he tried to quietly discern the source of his discomfort, only to come to a rather amusing conclusion.

   His friend was clutching his scarf like a lifeline, but doing nothing at all with it as he went about his various preparations for the day.

   “Bakugou,” He called out when he realized he’d begin laughing if this went on much longer, “Isn’t your neck cold?”

   Katsuki glared at him, seeming tongue tied as he reflexively responded, “No.”

   “Ah.”

   They stared silently at each other, with every couple seconds interrupted as a new, pained expression played over Bakugou’s features. It looked as if some live animal were in his throat, fighting to get out.

   Eventually, it did.

   Eyes darting away, he growled, “Yeah, I’m cold.”

   Taking the scarf without another word, he wrapped his friend up as before. “You don’t even need to ask, if you don’t want. I’m more than happy to do this whenever.” As he adjusted the fabric, he whispered, “I want you to be warm, Katsuki.”

   When Bakugou didn’t make a move, and his features didn’t change from a scowl, Kirishima felt like cold water had been poured over his head.

   Had he misread all this?

   Had he said too much?

   Was he not allowed to use that name?

   But then his thoughts stilled when Bakugou said, “Thank you…” And, as if that were not a surprise enough, the blonde buried himself deep in the wraps of his scarf, all the way up to his nose, whispering, “Eiji.”

   And Kirishima knew it then.

   With a broken aching in his chest, with a soft gasp on his lips - with a certainty that shook him to his core - he knew that he loved this man.

   “Katsuki…” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the fabric.

   Sputtering, Bakugou roared so loud that birds flung themselves from the forest around them into the morning sky, “You just ruined our first - You kissed the fucking scarf, Hair-For-Brains! Me! You’re supposed to kiss me- ach!”

   Tackling him into the sea of leaves at their feet, laughing, Kirishima pulled the scarf aside and smiled, “Gimme a second chance?”

   “No! Fucking -” A hand gripped his collar and pulled him down, Bakugou kissing him roughly. “There! That’s how you do it!”

   “Uh, Katsuki... My lip is bleeding?”

   “It was your sharp fucking teeth - You know what? Shut the fuck up!”

   Years later, he got a text: “You had better get your ass over to my place or you don’t get a homemade dinner.”

   He picked out a happy kitten picture from the album labeled ‘For Him,’ sending it just to annoy Bakugou.

   Arriving a couple minutes later, he turned on the heating and began making himself at home as he set up Katsuki’s kitchen. His ears soon picked up familiar footsteps, but as he began to walk towards the foyer, he realized that after the knob had shifted the door itself hadn’t opened. Worried, he regarded the door quietly, then took a peek through the peep-hole. Met with a wide-eyed Katsuki, he swung the door open. “Hey, man, you’ve been standing there for like, five minutes. You gonna come in?”

   He noticed that Bakugou’s neck was bare, scarf in hand. Was his neck too warm? Was he ill?

   “You okay?” He pressed his palm to Katsuki’s cheek and then his forehead, surprised to find them chilled. “You look sick but don’t have a fever… Why aren’t you wearing your scarf?”

   Bakugou made a contorted expression, reminding him of that vacation long ago, when his friend had finally taken that first, terrifying step that let him into his life. Over the years, sometimes, Katsuki would come to him like this when he wanted physical affection but didn’t know how to ask for it. He had thought that they were past this, but perhaps his boyfriend was having a hard day, and he was more than willing to humor him for the time being. So it was with ease that he slipped his hand down to grab the scarf, only to pause when he noted it was weighted with something inside.

   He moved the folds this way and that, feeling his heart skip a beat when they finally revealed what lay within.

   That same out-of-body experience he’d had before took over - that same warmth - and he pulled the item out and wrapped up his love carefully, adoringly, within the fabric. With a quick kiss, he loosened the folds so that Katsuki could hide his face if he felt overwhelmed, and turned his attention back to the item in his hands, investigating it further.

   As his tears began to fall, he came back down to earth.

   He gazed up through wet lashes to see his boyfriend slowly reanimate under the familiar colors of an autumn sunset.

   “It’s beautiful, Katsuki.”

Chapter Text

   He stared down at the box in his palms, not quite believing it was real.

   Momo’s free hand was rubbing soft circles on his back as she held a sleepy Hotaru close. Yukino was lying with his head on her lap, drooling soundly. He wondered distantly if she secretly remade her expensive clothing when he ruined them like that.

   They’d been using the twins as an excuse to meet, though he was beginning to suspect that Half-and-Half knew exactly what was going on and just pretended to be oblivious. He opened the box, peeking at the ring inside.

   It was perfect. He’d berated every expert, harassed every dealer, and bitched at every appraiser till he’d put together this tiny ring.

   It looked deceptively delicate. The band was thin, indicative of its status as an engagement ring, with the metal bending as it absorbed two dazzlingly beautiful rubies. He felt his cheeks heat up when he thought about how Kirishima would love that the stones were mismatched in color to mirror the dissonance of their eyes. They were twisted around in a simple but aesthetic pattern he’d created through hours of prototyping with Momo, while desperately trying to bribe the twins into secrecy.

   The metal and stones were designed in a way that could withstand almost anything.

   It couldn’t be broken when smashed into something hard. Eijirou being Eijirou, that had been the first concern.

   Most of the measures taken after that were to protect it during fights, which were a lot easier to get incorporated into the design than he’d initially thought. Though, thinking about it realistically, it made sense that all the heroes out there would have created a market for this sort of thing.

   The real kicker was when he asked for rapid changes in temperature. That was where the twins and his own Quirk came in handy, helping the designers to create something to withstand not only temperature fluctuations, but explosives as well. From nitroglycerin, to be exact. When Momo seemed concerned about the specificity there, asking if he intended for his future husband to experience frequent explosions of that nature, he had been too distracted playing with a couple prototypes to stop himself from answering honestly.

   “He wants a bunch of children. If we’re gonna have one from me I don’t want the kid to just grab his hand - or necklace or whatever - and shatter it if he can’t control his Quirk yet.”

   He hadn’t really known what to do when he saw happy tears roll down her cheeks, but she waved him off when he asked gruffly if she was fucking insane. “Sorry, sorry, my hormones are acting up recently. I just love the idea of you and Kirishima being fathers.”

   Noticing the way she had, in that moment, gingerly touched her stomach, he’d for once felt the need to not drown out his embarrassment with yelling. Instead he had shrugged, looking back over the prototypes as he muttered, “I kind of don’t hate it either.”

   But after all that effort, he had a damage proof ring which he was - almost - certain was perfect.

   He realized that his face was twisting up again, probably into something aggressive and stupid if Momo’s knowing smile was anything to go by, so he took a deep breath. She pat his shoulder and asked quietly, “When are you gonna do it?”

   “When I get home.”

   She laughed, trying not to jostle her twins, or the youngest Todoroki son resting within the curve of her stomach. “I guess you’ve waited long enough?”

   “Sure.”

   “Do you want us to drive you back or…?”

   “I kind of just… want to walk.”

   “Of course.” She leaned over to leave a peck on his cheek, “Good luck.”

   “Yeah… Tell Half-and-Half I’m not sorry for eating his leftovers.” He may have had a slight panic attack when Momo told him the ring was already finished, and buried the feeling by grabbing some cold Soba out of the fridge and downing it.

   She giggled, “Of course. I expect to be the first to get an invite to the wedding, you know.”

   “Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled as he made his exit.

   He walked home so slowly that the sky began to turn towards those achingly familiar shades of red, making something shift around in his chest. Shivering slightly, he tucked his scarf into his coat and breathed into his hands till they began to sweat. He set off some small explosions for warmth before putting them back into his pockets. When he was halfway home, he shot a quick text to Kirishima to let him know he had better get his ass over to his place, or he wasn’t gonna make him dinner tonight.

   He got an immediate reply, his message solely containing the image of an overjoyed cat.

   Rolling his eyes, he put away the phone and found himself slowing down, heart beating faster and faster as he fiddled with the box in his pocket. The felted exterior was smooth, and should have been calming, but it just made him sweat more.

   Suddenly, he realized his mistake and had to pause to take out the box, untucking his scarf to use in his flustered efforts to try and dry the nitroglycerin off. A woman walked by, the child at her side recognizing the frantic hero and pointing him out. He sneered in reply, but while most parents usually hurried their children away after seeing his ire, she took one look at what he was doing before shooting him a smile and a thumbs up.

   He felt his cheeks burn and he stuffed the very obvious ring-box into his pocket before hurrying away, hearing the pair’s laughter behind him. He waited until no one was around before he tried drying the box once more. It had - mysteriously - gotten soaked again, and after taking a full fifteen minutes to carefully dab the dangerous moisture away, he simply refused to go through the ordeal again. He unraveled his scarf fully, sacrificing the warmth of his neck so that he could wrap the box up with it.

   The rest of the walk back home he tried desperately not to think of what he was about to do.

   It wasn’t until he was at his doorstep that he realized what a mistake that was.

   He had simply trusted himself to know what to say, to just naturally propose.

   But with one hand on the unlocked door, a clear sign that Kirishima was waiting just beyond, he realized that he had no idea what to do or say. With that terrifying thought rolling around his head, he simply stared at Eijirou when the door opened and his concerned smile greeted him.

   “Hey, man, you’ve been standing there for like, five minutes. You gonna come in?” He took a look at his neck, “You okay?” A hand reached out and touched his cheek, then his forehead, “You look sick but don’t have a fever… Why aren’t you wearing your scarf?” In that moment, Bakugou recalled the first of many hiking trips between them - the first time they'd ever kissed.

   He forgot that for so long after that, he still hadn't quite known how to deal with the emotions he felt around Eijirou. He didn't know how to accept that he needed to pull the other closer, or ask for a kiss, so instead he'd hold a scarf to the side and wait patiently - horribly impatiently, if he was honest with himself - for the other to understand what he was asking for.

   It was, for the longest time, something they just did.

   And in his distressed mental state on the way back home, he hadn’t thought about that at all.

   And so it was that when Eijirou made a move toward the scarf he had in hand, it was an act so natural between them that Bakugou didn’t stop him. He just waited, wide-eyed, terrified.

   Noticing the strange arrangement of the material, Kirishima lifted a couple of the folds and peeked inside. Katuski could tell the moment he realized exactly what he was looking at, eyes widening, the scar he loved so much - kissed so often when no one was looking - tightening as his brow raised in shock.

   Katsuki swallowed nervously, hating that it was audible. Hating that he couldn’t find a single word to say, even Eijirou’s precious name getting stuck on his tongue.

   And then that idiot - that Shitty Hair, that fucking stupid hero, that manly ass crybaby - did the most amazing thing. He took the box out, holding it gingerly as he carefully, lovingly, wrapped Katsuki up in his scarf. The material got tucked in all the places Katsuki could never manage on his own, and a single hand carefully adjusted the coat collar around his scarf. A pair of lips pressed to his cheek, a nose brushed lovingly along his, and he suddenly felt a sharp stinging behind his eyes that he wasn’t gonna fucking let out - not as long as Eijirou was still keeping it together.

   Then that wonderful idiot gave Katsuki a sheepish smile, opening the box as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

   And then there were the tears he knew so well. The soft hiccups hiding behind a fist.

   “It’s beautiful, Katsuki.”

   As if hearing his name slip from Kirishima's lip, whatever spell he’d been under broke and he felt his body begin to move. He stepped closer, pressing his forehead against his boyfriend’s - fiancé's - and took the ring from the box. Under the cover of the scarf, he let himself smile shakily as he lifted Eijirou’s hand and slipped the ring onto his finger. He looked up into teary eyes, and felt those previous pangs disappear as a familiar calm washed over him.

   He moved his chin out from under the material so he could take his fiancé’s face in his hands, allowing them one - just one - tender moment as he kissed away the tears on his cheeks.

   He would never admit to anyone that he did this.

   Though he would admit that he bit Kirishima - or… Bakugou now? He guessed that they needed to decide that eventually - on the cheek for laughing.

   He loved him.

   It wasn’t something he could really say out loud, but he was well aware that it was this latent and warm thing which had settled down in his chest and refused to leave. Not that he wanted it to. He loved Kirishima Eijirou.

   He couldn’t say it now, not when he was experiencing so many emotions at once, but he did manage to whisper, “Move your ass inside, I’m gonna make you the fucking best dinner you’ve ever had.”

   Kirishima laughed, “The first thing my fiancé - Bakugou Katsuki - ever says to me.”

   “Shut the fuck up.”

   “The second thing my fiancé - Bakugou Katsuki - ever says to me.”

   “You better not keep this up or I swear I’ll kill you.”

   “The third thing my fiancé - Bakugou Katsuki-” He laughed as he dodged an angry swipe, “-ever says to me. And yeah, I’m gonna keep this up. I’m gonna do this after you become my husband too.”

   “Fucking- that’s it! Give me the ring back!”

   “No, no, no!” Eijirou laughed again, holding Katsuki away, “It’s mine.”

   “You’re mine if you keep it!”

   “That’s the point, isn’t it?”

   Blushing and furious that he’d been teased, Bakugou slammed the door behind them and stalked into the kitchen. Flustered, he put the apron on over his coat, and refused to admit his mistake when Eijirou made fun of him for it.

   But when they sat down for dinner he settled the coat around his chair, keeping the scarf on. He’d always enjoyed the bit of cover it gave him when he suddenly couldn't hold back a smile, and with the way Eijirou had been acting the whole time, he knew he’d be in desperate need of it the whole meal. His fiancé - fuck if that doesn’t make him happy to say  - smiled knowingly but never commented on it, instead attempting to cajole him into telling the story of how he chose this particular ring.

   As he admitted to everything, he was surprised by the lack of commentary until he realized the other was struggling to hold his tears back. When he finished, he sighed and reached over the table to hold his fiancé’s hand. “Let me guess,” he smiled into his scarf as tears start rolling down Eijirou’s cheeks, “I was pretty fucking manly, wasn’t I?”

   “Yes!” Eijirou hiccuped out a laugh, “And I’m so lucky to have you.”

   Being praised seemed a decent enough time for him to show a smile, so he grinned and leaned over the table to kiss his fiancé, “Yeah, I know.”

   He didn't even complain when he was tackled in an aggressive hug, Eijirou knocking pretty much all of their shit over.

   He wasn’t mad. Hell, his whole life everything tended to be treated roughly around him, he supposed he just didn’t care anymore. You just had to make sure everything was prepared to get knocked over, exploded, tackled, burned, broken, frozen, whatever it was. As he wrapped his arms around the idiot crying - in a pretty manly way, he supposed - he was happy to know that he could rest easy, certain his heart was locked away in the safest place he could possibly think of.

   He muttered softly into that shitty hair, surprisingly not gelled up for once, “I guess I know how lucky I am to have you too.”

   “What?” The idiot had the audacity to reel back and look surprised that he was capable of saying embarrassing things as well, so he took it one step further.

   “Fuck you, asshole, you know I fucking love you! Hey! Stop looking at me like that or I’ll kill you!”

Chapter Text

   It had been so long since Katsuki had regulated his softer moments like they were precious gold meant to be locked away; hoarded deep within his chest, never to be seen. For a while, he had only portioned out those moments to Eijirou, but that ended the minute their first child had been born.

   He’d never seen his husband’s natural hair color. The man had always been so careful about dying it that he’d never really noticed, or asked, and Eijirou had probably thought nothing of it. The idiot likely hadn’t even realized Katsuki didn't have a clue as to what it was.

   So when Momo - blessed surrogate woman that she was, and fuck that Half-and-Half bastard for probably never being good enough for her - had handed his daughter over to them, and he'd cradled her close, he couldn’t help the smile that eased the furrow of his brow. “Ah, so it’s black.” He’d muttered, “Hey there, little Shitty Hair. You’re never allowed to dye it the same stupid color as your father, you hear me?”

   It had felt so natural. So warm and wonderful, holding his daughter like that. Her eyes had opened at the sound of his voice, having recognized it from the yelling she’d heard for the previous nine months. His heart had melted to see the particular red color there, and he'd held her closer, barely able to tear himself away to let Eijirou take her. As if he knew, his husband had cradled her between them so they could both just look down at her, awed by the first life they’d brought into the world - with a bit of assistance, of course.

   After that, he’d felt more natural showing affection. Of course it was never like Eijirou’s bleeding-heart, manly love. But it was his own brand of affection, and he’d determined he would shower his family in it all day, every day.

   “Oi! Momo! Get your shitty brothers and sister in the car! We’re gonna be late.”

   “Shut up, Shitty Dad!” She yelled back. Her words carried Eijirou’s joyful tone, but her ‘dialect,’ as Deku had mentioned during one of his many visits - stupid Deku - was a hundred percent Katsuki’s, leading to the most horrifying hybrid that he just adored.

   Saying the most awful things in the most good-natured manner, she made everyone feel loved and terrified at the same time.

   To say he was proud of her would be an understatement.

   Of course Eijirou had some… different opinions on how she should behave, as did Auntie Momo, but his little girl was perfect in his eyes and he wouldn’t let them change her worth a damn. What made him think she was even more wonderful was when Mina had complained that she would never find a life-partner with such a catastrophic personality, and he was so on-board with that idea. No one touched his girls.

   He watched her bound happily around, helping her two younger brothers put on their coats and correcting her sister on how to tie her shoe. He huffed when he realized she’d been slowly dying more and more of her hair red, having started with an innocent streak ( “Just to look a little like Papa” ) that was slowly beginning to encompass the rest of her head. Not that he really cared, he knew he was just being annoyed on principle. “If I see any more red in your hair, Momo, I’m disowning you.”

   “Fuck you, Dad, it’s pretty!” She smiled sweetly, as if she’d merely said, ‘I would rather not, Father, I think it looks fairly pretty like this,’ instead of snapping so crassly at him.

   He smiled back, “You’re looking more and more like your Shitty Haired father every day. Now all of you, in the car! We don’t want to keep them waiting.”

   “Fuck you!” His youngest son shouted, blond hair sticking out at too many angles, just like when he was a kid. He grinned viciously down towards his miniature self.

   “Hah, what was that, you little shit?”

   A long-suffering sigh preceded his husband breezing into the room, an indulgent smile on his face as he lifted the boy into his arms, “Akihito, what did I say about taking up your father’s language?”

   “Not to.” The boy grinned, a photocopy of Katsuki as a child.

   “Exactly.”

   “Oi,” he pulled his husband towards him to place a kiss on his cheek, “What’s wrong with my language?” They had performed this same song and dance multiple times over the years, to the point that he didn’t even bother pretending to be angry anymore.

   “You know what I'm talking about,” Eijirou winked, shouldering him aside so he could grab their eldest son’s hand and lead them out the door. “Get the girls, let’s go.”

   The car ride was filled with screaming. Sometimes angry yelling, sometimes joyful shouts. They were just a loud family by nature, and not much could be done about it. When they arrived at Yuuei, Katsuki expertly managed to corral the gaggle of children into the school without too much fuss, only to have them scatter like cats the minute they saw all their favorite Aunts and Uncles gathered for their class reunion.

   “Oi! Shitty Momo! Keep an eye on your siblings.”

   He got a distant, “Sure thing, Idiot!” as a response, and he relaxed a bit.

   “And you called us monsters.” Two young adults approached, with their little brother shyly peeking past them to wave hello. Hotaru elbowed his twin, “Be nice. We were horrible children.”

   “And even worse teenagers.” Katuski grumbled, “Where’s Half-and-Half?”

   “Dad is…” Yukino buried his head in his hands, “Working the grill.” He sighed, “He’s being so embarrassing.”

   “Not as embarrassing as Uncle Denki.” Their younger brother piped up, “I feel bad for his daughter, even if I don’t know her that well. She doesn’t deserve… that.”

   Sure enough, after wandering around a bit, they found Auntie Momo consoling a rather distressed girl as she tried to avoid watching her dad act like a fool - being a fucking clown as always. As he headed towards Kaminari, he saw Eijirou introduce himself to the girl and try convincing her to put her hearing aids back in.

   Jirou was laughing her ass off to the side, while Kaminari regaled some ‘extras’ with an old drinking story. Feeling nostalgic, Katsuki kept his approach casual so his friend didn’t notice him until an explosion detonated right by his ear. What proceeded was a familiar comical skit, the pair fighting good-naturedly until others came in to separate them. The only difference being that Kaminari wasn’t the only one laughing as they were pulled apart, and those of their class who hadn’t seen Katsuki since his wedding day looked almost shaken by his genuine cackle.

   Tokoyami, in particular, seemed to be staring at him intently, muttering intermittently to Tsuyu, who was nodding in earnest.

   “Oi, who the fuck are you looking at like that?” He approached them, Denki and Jirou at his side now that the miniature sparring session was behind them. He spared Tsuyu a wave before pulling Tokoyami into a half-hug for added shock value, “So, Birdman, what’s on my face that's so interesting?”

   Dark Shadow rose up and pushed him away, allowing Tokoyami to tilt his head, regarding him curiously. “I just never thought I’d see the day...”

   “What are you talking about?” He pressed.

   “Midoriya!” The birdbrain called out. As if summoned from the crowd milling about, Deku bounded towards them.

   “Yeah?”

   “How could you not tell us of this?” Tokoyami gestured to Katsuki’s face, “It’s a miracle.”

   Tsuyu ribbeted in humor, “It certainly seemed impossible.”

   “Ah, I guess I didn’t realize. It’s been a gradual thing, you know?”

   “What the fuck are you all saying?” Katsuki shouted.

   The little girl from before, Denki and Jirou’s kid, sidled up next to her mother, peering at him curiously as she adjusted her hearing aids.

   “Well?” He said, a little quieter for her sake. “What’s this about?”

   “Yeah, what’s going on over here?” Eijirou’s arm slipped around his waist, an easy smile on his lips as he made space for Auntie Momo in this increasingly large gaggle of idiots.

   Tokoyami smiled, “We’re observing a rare, domesticated Bakugou.”

   Grinning, his husband pulled him closer, “Nothing to it.”

   “Well, what were you guys talking about? What’s wrong with my face?”

   Izuku blinked up at him, then grinned, “You really don’t know?”

   “I obviously don’t fu-” he glanced at the girl, “Don’t fricken’ know.”

   Momo snorted, trying to politely look away as if she were searching the crowd for her children, though she was fooling no one. Pulling her little girl into her arms, Jirou hid her smile behind the child’s long, blonde hair. Denki snorted, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe he’d figured out something before Katsuki for once in his life. With a smile playing over his beak, Tokoyami crossed his arms and sighed.

   And brighter than the rest, a pair of brilliant green eyes lit up. Deku grinned at him, just like he used to so many years ago, when Katsuki had first manifested his quirk and it had seemed to them that he’d been given the key to unlock all the mysteries the world had to offer.

   “Oh, Kaachan.” He laughed joyfully, accompanied by Eijirou’s knowing chuckle, “You finally have ‘Tokoyami’s feet.’”