Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Shouto.” Endeavor’s stern voice was loud and booming in his grand formal office.

There were no drapes on the windows to dampen sounds. Formal sitting couches, a grand desk, an overlarge coffee table, and a single very expensive carpet weren’t enough to prevent echoes either. Bare walls with recessed paneling just made it all worse. It was like the architect had been trying to design a symphony hall rather than a professional office. Though perhaps that was what his father had wanted all those years ago, a space to make his thunderous voice even louder, to make himself feel bigger and more important.

Feh, typical.

The vast open space between floor and ceiling caused everything to echo. And Shouto meant everything . Every single sound: the scratching of Midoriya’s pen as he scribbled notes in his Campos notebook, the clacking of Bakugou furiously typing up his notes from today’s patrol, and of course Endeavor’s voice. Noise bounced around the room.

It was annoying.

But … Endeavor really had changed in the past few months. Instead of doubling down when Shouto ignored him, he remained silent. He waited. Almost like he was being … patient.

Well, good behavior should be rewarded.

“What?” Shouto looked up from his phone to see what his father wanted.

“Did you want me to cook dinner tonight? Or were you going to go eat with your mother and siblings?” Endeavor spoke tentatively, which was another recent development.

Shouto did note Endeavor didn’t say Rei’s name, perhaps out of respect, regret, or fear. Shouto didn’t really know or particularly care.

“Natsuo does dinner with his girlfriend now. Fuyumi’s got a teacher education day today; she’s going out for drinks with her friends after. Mom’s having Jeanist^[1] over for a date.” Shouto paused, letting that one hang in the air for a moment, just to see if he could get a reaction from his father. Endeavor only nodded to acknowledge what Shouto said. Huh, no outbursts or protestations. Weird.  

Well, Shouto had nothing better to do.

“I guess dinner with you is fine. I want cold soba,” Shouto decided to push his luck. No lecture on balanced nutrition was forthcoming. Endeavor must have something really important he wanted to talk about.

To get his soba faster, Shouto put his phone down and looked at the day’s case notes over Bakugou’s shoulder. “You misspelled that,” He pointed at the typo by reaching across Bakuou’s body to lightly tap the screen.

“I know that! If you don’t like it maybe you can do the typing!” Bakugou exploded, verbally that was.

“Fine.” Shouto reached for the laptop to take it, but Bakugou only tightened his grip on the computer and snarled.

“Like hell! You write too fucking slow!”

“Language!” Midoriya and Endeavor scolded together, but in vastly differing tones.

Bakugou grumbled but kept his mouth shut after that while typing. Was it possible to type angrily? Bakugou was punching the keys with his fingers like they’d personally offended him. The rapid staccato clacking was overwhelming.

Shouto kept his mouth shut as well, and his chin propped on Bakugou’s shoulder. He’d tell any onlookers it was the only way to keep the braggart from exaggerating his own importance, really he just liked snuggling up to his boyfriend, and typing was less likely to get him elbowed in the gut than handwriting. The subtle shifting of Bakugou’s shoulder beneath him, the warmth from his side, and the soft rhythm of his breathing lulled Shouto into something that wasn’t quite sleep.

The rest of the afternoon flew by. Once the records were done and Endeavor had reviewed them it was time to go home. Or rather, for Izuku and Katsuki to go home. Shouto had surreptitiously texted them saying Endeavor wanted to talk, and that probably meant it was about something they shouldn’t be around for. Izuku’s brows furrowed because he wanted to be there to support his boyfriend. Katsuki just clapped Shouto on the shoulder and squeezed reassuringly while they were getting up from the couch. Whatever was going to go down, they both respected Shouto’s agency even if they’d prefer to be by his side. It was sweet.

Regardless, Shouto was going to his father’s house for dinner. “I’ll see you back at the dorms. Bye.” Bye, in this instance, meant ‘I love you’. The sentiment remained unspoken. None of them were ready to express anything aloud in front of Endeavor … or anyone else really. Shouto swore he’d die of embarrassment.

It was honestly ironic that he was the most stressed about their relationship falling out from under wraps when the whole thing had been his idea in the first place. He’d been the one to suggest the three of them get together instead of remaining in the awkward love triangle they’d been stuck in. Shouto’d grown sick of the teenage hormone soup they’d all been stewing in. He hated the constant state of angst and jealousy Izuku and Katsuki had shared, and displayed like fucking barnyard cocks by posturing and leveling overly-aggressive macho glares at each other whenever they were in the same room as Shouto.

He’d frozen them all inside a closet until they’d talked it out … then made out. Seven minutes in heaven nothing, they’d stayed put until the ice melted! Shouto smiled sappily as he waved goodnight to his boyfriends.

The second Izuku and Katsuki turned their backs, Shouto changed gears. There was a more pressing question on his mind than the ideal time to come out to his dad. “Father, what did you want to talk about?”

Endeavor cleared his throat and turned off his facial flames as he walked them towards his waiting car. He opened the door for Shouto, then swallowed hard. The physical effort of finding the words was plain on his face. “I wanted to ask … if you want to go to Comiket.”

Shouto nearly tripped over his own two feet and fell into the car. He sat, hard, on the seat and looked up at his father in surprise. Comiket? Seriously? The answer was obviously ‘yes’, but how had Endeavor known? Had Midoriya said something? Bakugou never made small talk with Endeavor … he just grilled father on all things hero related with waspish questions and a standoffish attitude. So … how?

“I know there’s All Might collectibles there. You and your classmates like him,” Endeavor growled out. He could barely keep eye contact with his son. He was making an effort, but failing spectacularly. It was … something. “You should invite your friends too.” It was a concession … or maybe a social overture?

“Uh. Yeah. Sure,” Shouto was honestly surprised, even if his voice didn’t betray that, “Thanks.”

Dinner that night with his father was somehow more and less awkward than usual. 

Izuku didn’t worry about Shouto having dinner alone with Endeavor. If Shouto had needed moral or physical support he would have asked for it. Right … there was nothing to worry about … even though it was getting late and —

Shouto burst into Izuku’s dorm room right before curfew. He didn’t bother to knock, which was unusual for Izuku’s typically stoic boyfriend. The door bounced off the wall with a loud slam that had Izuku jolting upright in shock. 

What the heck?! 

Izuku kicked back so hard his chair nearly toppled over as green lighting from One For All crackled across his skin. Wow, that startle reflex was deeply ingrained. He collapsed forward over his desk, breathing hard.

Before the sudden intrusion, he’d been studying at his desk, taking notes in his personal and school notebooks simultaneously. Meanwhile Kacchan occupied the entire bed with his own books and notes; he sat atop the duvet in loungewear and bare feet, with Izuku’s All Might throw blanket tucked around him because Izuku allegedly kept his room ‘too fucking cold’.

“We’re going to Comiket,” Shouto announced without preamble.

Izuku turned to face Shouto with his mouth hanging open. What? Seriously? But how? That must mean—

“Seriously?” Kacchan sat up and let the blanket slip from his head to his shoulders, “With those crowds?”

Izuku heard the words but his head was buzzing with excitement and questions . Darn, he was doing that mental rambling thing again.

“Endeavor is taking us. The tickets are bought.” Shouto waved the Comiket circle listing book in the air. Kacchan’s head swayed as he watched it, completely enraptured. Izuku knew he was doing the same. This was … a dream come true. Sure, yeah, they could buy tickets and go on their own (assuming they got permission to leave campus); Comiket wasn’t that expensive to get into. But the trains and the lines and the cold and the heat and having to carry everything you bought and you had to bring your cosplay with you to change into there … Comiket was just a lot of work and not worth the effort with hero classes and internships and everything else going on in their lives.

But … if they already had tickets, and presumably a ride there in Endeavor’s car, well then that made it a done deal. Izuku knew he was mumbling to himself, but he just couldn’t stop!

Kacchan closed his books and set everything on Izuku’s nightstand. He held the blanket open in invitation for his boyfriends to get up on the bed and join him. It was time to study after all … for important things, like which booths they would need to go to first and which circles would be there each day (not all circles attended all days, table space was expensive) and what was the most efficient path to take to maximize their time because it was impossible to see all of Comiket in one day and what the optimal time to spend in the cosplay photo area would be and they had to check and see if there were any group photoshoots set up and plan out—”

“We know, Deku,” Kacchan interrupted and ruffled his green hair. “Breathe, nerd.” He kissed the back of Izuku’s neck, then went back to highlighting booth numbers on the map and the matching doujin circles in the catalog.

Izuku cringed. He’d been thinking out loud again. He could apologize, but they’d tell him to stop apologizing, then he’d apologize for apologizing and— 

Shouto rubbed Izuku’s thigh with one hand while browsing the twitter profiles of circles they didn’t know with the other. “Hey, what do you both think of these guys’ art?”

The excitement and planning of Comiket had them staying up way too late, and left them happily exhausted and sleep deprived in Aizawa’s homeroom class the next day.

At last, it arrived.

Comiket.

Shouto was armed with a fat wad of cash and his father’s credit card. Izuku had a backpack with his cosplay for the day and plenty of storage space for their winter jackets and all the merch they were going to buy. Katsuki had their schedule and his signature don’t-fuck-with-me glare to get them from point A to point B with minimal crowding. It didn’t help them now, standing by the street and looking at the massive winding queue waiting for the doors to open.

Endeavor was lingering nearby but not crowding them, which was, well, progress. Shouto had thought his father was just going to drop them off and leave … but apparently … Enji Todoroki was going to loiter outside while his son attended Comiket … dressed like a middle-aged pervert. He had on a tan trench coat, noir detective hat, a scarf covering his mouth and nose, and sunglasses. He looked very suspicious, but out of the four of them he was honestly the least recognizable.

Shouto mused, maybe he should have worn a disguise as well. Some of the crowd not completely obsessed with getting into the doujin hall for those sweet deals were people watching, and they were starting to take notice of the three loitering UA students. The doors opened and the teeming mass of humanity—slowly and orderly—charging forward was a relief.

“We should—” Shouto started to say ‘get into line’, but was interrupted by Bakugou’s loud outburst.

“Let’s move nerds. I’ve got places to be!” He took large strides towards the shifting throng, expecting the rest of them to follow.

Midoriya at least remembered his manners. “Thank you so much Mr. Todoroki, sir! For, uh, for driving us here today. It really means a lot.”

Endeavor nodded, accepting the thanks even though he’d been in the passenger seat. “You boys have fun. Shouto, give them my phone number in case you all get separated. We’ll meet for lunch. And if you buy too much to carry, come find me and we’ll have Kurumada come around so you can put it in the trunk.” Then he waved to Kurumada, the man who’d actually done the driving today, thanking and telling him to drive away because there was no parking around Comiket; it was drop-off and pick-up only.

Shouto looked up at his father. Endeavor wasn’t leaving? “You’re … coming in with us?” Shouto really, really, didn’t want his father hovering over his shoulder while he tried to shop for BL doujins.

“I’m here at Comiket. May as well see what the fuss is about. But you and your friends have fun on your own. You’re old enough now. I trust you.”

“Okay.” Shouto turned and walked away. Huh, growth. It was weird his father was just letting him run off into a massive crowd of otaku and cosplayers, but he wasn’t going to complain.

He caught up to Izuku and Katsuki standing in line. In the brief time he’d been talking with his father the line behind them had grown significantly. The girl he cut in front of to join his boyfriends glared at him for all of three seconds before her eyes widened and she shoved her friend’s arm to whisper fervently at her. Shouto swore he heard the word UA, and tried to shrug deeper into his jacket to hide. Izuku, ever perceptive, noticed his discomfort.

“Don’t worry. We’ll go to the cosplay changing rooms first. I brought, like, two and half cosplays, so we can get you in a mask or put makeup on so you’re incognito,” he whispered.

Katsuki, of course, had a different opinion. “Screw that! My guy at the merch table can only hold the goods until 11:30 and traffic was a bitch getting here. We’re going straight there ‘cuz I don’t wanna miss out just because you give a damn about what a couple fucking extras think!”

“But Kacchan, even out of uniform we represent—”

Katsuki shut Izuku down fast. “You’re spending too much time around Glasses, Deku. I don’t give a crap what people see me buying. Besides, the question is what were they doing at that Comiket booth then anyway!”

Shouto just finger-combed his hair further over his face and wished the line would move faster. The whole lot of them shuffled forward a few steps, paused, and shuffled again. What felt like an eternity later they showed their entrance passes and were in. Katsuki’s impatient tremoring turned into a rapid power-walk to the back of the massive atrium they were in. Shouto inhaled, gasping in awe. The air practically tasted like paper from all the doujin on display … that and the stagnant stench of thousands upon thousands of bodies crammed in like sardines. There was so much talking and movement, it was all almost too much. He tried awkwardly slipping off his coat with zero personal space, and only managed to get tangled in puffy sleeves, shoved along by the sheer mass of humanity, and more stressed. He felt himself overheating, so cautiously cooled himself down. His breath came out in a shaking, chilled puff, and that made everything worse; he was losing control.

Izuku’s hand on his was grounding. He grabbed and guided him while simultaneously freeing his arm from his sleeve. His freckled boyfriend steered them through Katsuki’s wake. Katsuki was a man on a mission. Single minded bull-headed determination had him refusing to look back. He hadn’t shared any details with Shouto or Izuku, other than to insist that he would get his merch or they’d—meaning Shouto and Izuku—die trying.

The journey to the corporate booths was long and exciting. There were cars with custom anime-girl vinyl peels, booth babes^[2] flashy banners, and finally … the official corporate merch tables. It was so overwhelming. Visual noise drowned out every other sensation. Suddenly, cold water running down his throat calmed him.

Oh.

Izuku had given him a bottle of water and he drank it reflexively. 

Katsuki knew just where to go, and Izuku was so prepared and mother-hen-y. But Shouto was just … so obviously a Comiket virgin.

Katsuki gulped his entire water bottle, snarled about the wait, and ran to one booth that looked like all the others but was obviously the one with Katsuki’s ‘guy’. He literally ran—despite Izuku pleading to slow down because running was against the rules—and planted himself squarely in line. Shouto held back, not sure he wanted to fight the crowds for a place and certain Katsuki didn’t need him.

“C’mon nerds. There might be shit here that you want too.”

Well, they were welcome. Shouto settled in between Izuku and Katsuki, thankful for the elbow room, and cursed being the tallest. He really just wanted to bury his face in one of his boyfriends’ chests and shut out all the chaos for a minute, the fluorescent glare and the constant noise and just—ugh—everything. Izuku, the overprepared angel, pulled out a knit All Might beanie large enough Shouto could cover his ears and his eyes, which he did. By the time he was overheating and had to take it off, he was less overstimulated and could enjoy the sights of Comiket’s official merchandise tables. Soon enough they were close enough to really admire the goods. Now, at the front of the line, Shouto stared at box after box containing anime, manga, and hero themed swag. It was mostly blind boxes for miniature figurines and keychains. Then a large section of capsule toys; a veritable gachapon paradise. Behind the table were the larger products and the more expensive ones: model kits, scale figures, a few collectable dolls, and … there … him .

A giant All Might plush … a really giant plush … a $500 four-foot tall All Might plush.^[3]

Shouto had to have it.

“I can’t afford anything else today if I get it,” he complained lightly under his breath. A fat wad of cash was only so fat after all.

Izuku glanced at him in confusion before he too saw it. His eyes widened and he let out a warbling excited squeak. Thankfully Katsuki didn’t notice because his eyes were laser set on one particular booth attendant. Apparently, she was his contact for this ‘deal’ (it sounded like they were talking about drugs but, seriously, they weren’t).

“These commercial booths sometimes accept card you know,” Izuku whispered breathily, leaning up to reach Shouto’s ear.

Well. Fuck it. Endeavor was gonna buy him a four-foot tall $500 All Might plushie. The credit card was for emergencies and this was an emergency. Shouto would die if he didn’t get his hands on it. Huh … maybe Katsuki was rubbing off on him.

Ha. Rubbing off. Shouto chuckled and blushed just when another booth attendant laid eyes on him. 

“Aww, can I help you, sweetie?” she asked with a sisterly air; she looked old enough to be his older sister. Her eyes sparkled with joy, or maybe it was her quirk.

“Do you take card?”

“There’s a minimum—”

“I think that meets it.” Shouto pointed at the All Might plushie, manners forgotten.

Her smile widened and was downright beatific. “Good choice. And lucky you, we do have a bag big enough to carry him.”

Shouto paid, then awkwardly held his purchase. His All Might was factory new and vacuum packed to be smaller and flatter than the display plush … but was still massive. Shouto swore he looked ridiculous carrying him. Katsuki was right though; he couldn’t care less.

They stepped away from the booth and found a small eddy in the never-ending flow of humanity. Shouto clung to the wall, and his prize with both arms. He had to crane his neck to see around it. Izuku stood at his shoulder, acting like his personal-space guard, not that he needed to with Katsuki glaring at anyone who drew near them. They should be worried about their hero reputations—Shouto knew that—acting this antisocial at a major public event was just plain bad PR, but it couldn’t be further from their minds. All of them too high on the excitement of Comiket.

“Here.” Katsuki shoved a pair of red, blue, and yellow striped boxes into their hands.

Shouto blindly groped at it, digging his chin into All Might to see the Rubik’s cube sized object. He stared at the flashy graphics and highly stylized lettering. Then shifted All Might to one hip and turned the mysterious box one handed until the front label faced him.

“I got one for each of us. Figured we’d need them after graduation.” Katsuki shoved his hands deep into his pockets and glared resolutely at the ground as if to say, call me cute or tell me I’m sweet at your own damn risk ya nerds.

Izuku rotated the box, looking lovingly at the All Might artwork until he realized what the product was. “Stamp stands?”

“Yeah. We’re gonna need our hankos^[4] to sign stuff as heroes. And since we’re gonna work together … or if we wind up at different agencies … then we’ll match, idiot!” Bakugou became more and more flustered as he stumbled through his reasoning. It really was both cute and sweet.

“Kacchan!” Izuku squeaked with tears in his eyes.

“It’s”—Shouto was about to say sweet but thought better of it—“Thank you, Katsuki.” Yet again the ‘I love you’ went unsaid. From the way Katsuki blushed, Shouto knew he knew.

“Whatever!” Katsuki stuffed his stamp stand box back into the bag with the merchant’s logo on it. “Let’s hit the doujin floor before all the good shit sells out.”

“Uh, well, I was going to go get changed into my cosplay first. And Shouto too … so we don’t attract as much attention. Did you …” Izuku poked his index fingers together awkwardly and leaned against Shouto for comfort while finding his words.

“Fine! Do what you want nerds. I’m going shopping.” Katsuki blushed beet red and stormed off like a man on a mission. Shouto wondered what exactly he was so desperate to get.

Midoriya sighed in relief, “Let’s go get dressed Sho.”

Shouto’s eyes widened in surprise. There was a slight tremor in Izuku’s hand while he led them through the crowds. Despite acting at home in the chaos, even Izuku was a little overwhelmed by the eyes and whispers constantly swirling around them. Huh, his boyfriend really would feel better once he was in his cosplay. Shouto found it hard to believe a change of clothes and some makeup could make anyone more comfortable.

At the changing rooms, Izuku handed the attendant enough money for them both and they shared a room to get ready. A massively long vanity countertop—big enough for a small idol group—held quadruple sinks. Shouto’s amazed face, and Izuku’s neatly organized makeup kit, were reflected in the giant mirror topped by bright spotlights. Izuku was obviously a cosplay veteran. He made getting dressed and primped and preened look easy.

Izuku’s outfit was … adorable. Utterly adorable. There were no other words. He’d completely transformed himself. His cute freckles were gone along with his signature green hair, his jawline was transformed and his features unrecognizable; all thanks to the magic of makeup. Next, he set about taking care of Shouto. He was an absolute magician with foundation, or whatever product he was using; masking Shouto’s scar with careful application and a mid-length black wig with long sideswept bangs.

They stepped out, fully dressed, as All Might in a Wild Wild Pussycats uniform and a budget Eraserhead.

Dumb nerds, Bakugou thought to himself, making a big deal out of him getting them all matching stamp stands. He just thought it’d be nice for them to all match. They were dating for fuck’s sake, even if they weren’t out to anyone besides a few fellow classmates. So … maybe he wanted to show that to the world … subtly … because …

“Arrrgh! Damnit!” He huffed and ruffled his hair where he stood in the middle of the walkway. Why’d it have to be so freaking complicated!? He wanted to shout from the rooftops that he was dating the two second-best up and coming heroes of all freaking time—he was the best of course—but at the same time anyone knowing about them, or the thought of anyone judging them, made him want to curl up under a rock and die. Why? Why?! Why couldn’t he just spit it out!?

A few people were staring at him. Damn extras. “What’re you staring at?!” he snarled and continued on his way, whipping out his map angrily and glaring at the table numbers he wanted to go to.

Right. Hall East 3 booth Ni 33 first. He wanted to get that BL All Might/David Shield doujin Deku wanted. Then he’d continue down the aisle to booth Ni 42 for his own doujins. And finally, he’d have to cut up the hall to booth Se 69 for Shouto’s dakimakura cover. Damn … something like that would probably sell out fast, almost as fast as the top ten stationary packs he’d insisted on rushing over to the corporate area to get first. If not for Ein-chan picking out the All Might stamp stands he’d have been SOL^[5]. Maybe he should recalibrate. Mentally recalculating his path, Katsuki wiped the sweat off his palms. He couldn’t slip up and let off a single blast or he’d get kicked out of Comiket so fast and all this would be for nothing. Well … not nothing. He’d gotten the stamp stands he wanted and—

What the fuck?

That was Endeavor. Shouto’s dad was at booth Se 69. He looked so fucking sketchy in that trench coat with the collar pulled high up, ducking his head so the brim of his hat covered most of his face and his sunglasses hid the scar. He looked like a dirty old man buying drugs … or …

Katsuki’s eyes landed on the nondescript plain brown paper bag being handed to him. No. Nooooo. No?

Endeavor tucked the package under his jacket.

Holy shit! He was a dirty old man buying X rated goods from a doujin circle! What the hell was that old man into?! No way. No freaking way!

But … if Endeavor saw Bakugou here … looking for dirty manga—or as dirty as he could buy being underage—then he’d know that Bakugou liked this shit too. No. Wait a minute. The real question was what was Endeavor doing buying whatever the hell it was he’d bought.

Crap! Endeavor turned this way! Bakugou spun around to duck his head and hide his face, hunching forward and staring studiously at the booth in front of him. Oh, cute, an art book of heroes dressed in each other’s costumes. Next to it were art prints of anime girls from some music game, and on the other side were more of the same. Katsuki swore each girl was wearing less and less until their tits were barely covered by tiny triangles of fabric with their nipples sticking up and pushing at the barely-there material. It was like they were staring him right in the face—the tits, not the girls, which was weird because tits couldn’t stare—and what was he thinking in the first place again? Katsuki felt himself sweating as blood rushed to his cheeks.

Crap.

Getting caught looking at this shit was only marginally better than getting caught looking at what he really wanted to buy. Nooooo.

Thankfully, Endeavor walked past without seeing him. There were plenty of blonds at Comiket after all, even a few Explosion Murder God Dynamight cosplayers—not that any of them were remotely good compared to the real thing. Katsuki smirked when he made eye contact with one just one aisle over. Yeah, that’s right, eat your heart out ya’ two-bit extra.

He kept his gaze focused resolutely forward, bouncing between artwork and titles and people watching, doing his best to give off ‘don’t be suspicious’ vibes. He felt more than saw Endeavor’s broad back pass behind him—thank you peripheral vision. The second he deemed it safe to move Katsuki took off like an arrow from a bow. He had to know—

“What did that old man buy?” He slammed his hands on the table and the bespectacled girl sitting behind it, with mousey brown hair and a frilly Lolita dress, flinched.

“Oh-uh-I-uh-I can’t tell you that,” she practically whispered.

“Seriously?” Katsuki snarled. “Then it musta been something really dirty …”

“Okay kid,” The lady he hadn’t noticed before spoke up. She was wearing a maid outfit and swept her long auburn and red ombre hair out of her face just so she could haughtily lift her chin and look down her nose at him. “The fact you’re even phrasing it like that means you’re clearly under eighteen. Buy something safe-for-work or move on. And no, we’re not telling you shit about what anyone else is buying. There’s this hip new thing the kids are doing nowadays, it’s called respecting other people’s privacy.”

“But that was—”

“Wasn’t who you think!” The mousey Lolita girl spoke up with a squeak.

“But he …” Katsuki gestured to his face where the scar should be.

“Nope!” Lolita shook her head so hard her hair fluffed out around her bow like some Ghibli heroine. “The scar was on the wrong side,” she explained with a coy smile.

Maid giggled like Lolita had said something hilarious.

Katsuki’s brows creased in confusion. That was Endeavor he saw. The scar wasn’t—

“The scar was on the wrong side,” Maid intoned slowly. Then she leaned across the table to whisper, “Wasn’t it, Dynamight .” That wasn’t a question.

Oh. Katsuki realized he could feel people’s eyes on them. Shitty extras were staring, eavesdropping . Oh! He was being an ass.

“Yeah …” he conceded, “the wrong side.” He sulked and dragged his shoulders up. “So … uh … sorry.” The apology felt like wrenching out his own fingernails with pliers; not that he’d ever done that, but he could imagine it’d feel just as awful. “Do you have any of the Hawks dakimakura cases?”

“Obviously safe-for-work, right kid?” Maid was fucking grinning way too much at reminding Katsuki he was a fucking kid. Even so, she was reaching under the table before she finished talking to grab the goods for him.

“Yeah … it’s for a friend.” Bakugou stuffed his hands into his pockets and tried not to make eye contact with the pair of filthy fucking fujoshis.^[6]

Lolita snorted out a laugh while filling out his receipt and circling the total. “Sure. A friend .” She winked knowingly at him when she passed back his change.

She didn’t know fucking shit! Katsuki still blushed though, but bit his tongue and didn’t curse the hag out. Deep breaths Dynamight, count to ten. “Thank you,” he gritted out through clenched teeth, and put the safe-for-work Hawks dakimakura case into his own nondescript shopping bag for discreteness.

Shouto better fucking love his birthday present.

“No problem.”

“Come again!”

Ugh, girls’ voices were so annoying. This was why he stuck to guys.

Endeavor heaved a sigh of relief as he exited the overbearing heat of the Comiket halls into the crisp December air. That had been far, far, too close. Shouto’s friend had been in the same aisle as him while he was buying the dakimakura cases for his show-Hawks-in-very-explicit-terms-and-actions-that-he-was-into-him-romantically-and-sexually plan. Jeanist had suggested the plan very smugly, stating in no uncertain terms that he needed to get his head out of his own ass and talk to Hawks. Rei’s laugh had sounded like ringing icicles tinkling in the winter sun. “Oh darling, if Enji could talk about his feelings he wouldn’t be in this mess.” She’d also suggested he shorten the plan name to operation-date-night. He didn’t see how having someone over to have sex counted as a date. Either way—

Endeavor shivered and brought his thoughts back to the present. He had his Hawks’ dakimakura cases in hand and could now mourn his previously pristine internet search history. He also had several texts from Shouto.

“Dad,” Shouto had called him dad , “I bought something big. Can you carry it to the car for me? I’m busy taking photos with Midoriya.”

Endeavor walked to the cosplay area, having to duck through the Comiket halls again and endure the odious heat of thousands of bodies crammed together. Outside in the designated photography meetup area, he tried to look as not-creepy as possible. Even so, many of the women and girls shied away from him as he passed, even though he didn’t have a camera.  Was it the hat? Maybe the sunglasses were too much.

He froze when he saw Shouto. Even without the scar or his distinctive hair, Enji would recognize his son. Even if his son was dressed as … one of his teachers? An interesting choice. Enji thought he should probably just feel relieved Shouto was wearing more than young Midoriya. That boy was in the middle of a gaggle of other All Might cosplayers, each of them in a different outfit and all of them posing like professionals. He felt, as a parent, he should chastise the young man for wearing a skirt that short … but could he really do that when it was the same length as the actual Wild Wild Pussycats uniform skirts? He returned his eyes to Shouto, standing by the railing of the rooftop garden holding several bags and surrounded by even more on the ground.

“Thanks father.”

Enji had been demoted back to father.

“It’s no trouble.” He searched for the right words. “Are you boys … having fun?”

Shouto’s eyes looked past Endeavor to land on Midoriya and he smiled, just a little. “Yeah,” he admitted.

It stung that Shouto wasn’t watching him. But children grew up. And he was proud his son had made such good friends. Shouto was growing up too fast, he deserved to enjoy what childhood he had left. Endeavor had robbed him of more than enough of it after all.

Shouto glanced at him, worriedly. Right, he hadn’t responded.

“Good.” Good? Really? That’s the best you’ve got, Enji?

“Oh, dad?”

Enji jerked his head back towards Shouto, away from the horizon he’d been gazing off into while mentally berating himself. “Yes Shouto?”

“There’s a soba place a few blocks away. We can’t leave Comiket in cosplay. If you bring some back … we could all eat at one of the tables over there.”

It was a peace offering. One Enji would gladly accept. “Sure. I’ll go there right after I put these away.” He took the bags from his son and froze when he realized what was in the largest one. A giant All Might plushie. The old him would have been furious, and thought of it as some cruel joke at his expense. But now … now he could be happy for his son to have gotten something he wanted and enjoyed. “I’m glad you’re having fun. I’ll return soon.”

He walked away, arms full of swag and bags of books he wouldn’t—and didn’t want to—look at. He would respect his son’s privacy. Before the Comiket crowds came between them he heard Shouto call out one last thing.

“Thanks dad!”

Chapter Text

There were many benefits to being in Class A. Like getting permission to go off campus to train. And being allowed to do internships with overnight shifts. It really prepared them for the shit work that would come with being a new hero: ‘newbies get the worst shifts’ after all. Sensei Aizawa trusted them—after everything they’d been through—to manage their own schedules and know their own limits.

Which was fine by Bakugou, push beyond your limits and all, plus ultra.

So, that was how they found themselves walking to the Todoroki mansion at fuck-this-hour of the morning … Enji Todoroki’s mansion that was, not Rei’s. How fucked up was it that Icy-Hot got two mansions to live in. Shouto explained his father’s manor house had the better gym if they wanted to get in an after-patrol work out, and the best bath—which they all desperately needed after dealing with drunks and miscreants all night on patrol with Suneater.^[1]

“We could get a cool-down workout in if we go to the gym …” Deku’s voice wavered with exhaustion and he trailed off. Damn, he looked dead on his feet.

“But fuck that,” Bakugou put his tired boyfriend’s mind at ease, “It’s late—or early—whatever. We’re gross. Let’s just stretch in the bathroom, shower, and soak ‘til we faint.”

“Please don’t pass out in the tub. I don’t want to do mouth-to-mouth^[2] on either of you before sunrise,” Shouto said flatly and unlocked the front door.

They stepped out of their shoes in the genkan, and stripped off the worst of their costumes to not drag filth through the house. Then they silently tiptoed towards the bathroom. The last thing Katsuki wanted was Enji Todoroki throwing a Flashfire Fist at his face because he’d been woken up too early. He turned around when he heard a door creak behind him, fully expecting immolation, but it was just Shouto. Apparently Katsuki’d walked right past the bathroom.

Stepping inside was like moving from some period Kurosawa film—because Endeavor’s house was Old School with a capital O and S—and into some ultra-modern sci-fi fantasy. All the fixtures were gleaming brushed metal against crisp white tile so clean Katsuki could see all their reflections. There was a linen closet, a laundry hamper with lid, a double vanity counter with a gigantic mirror and ridiculously good lighting, and a shower that was balls to the walls ridiculous.

“It’s so big Todoroki,” Izuku whispered in awe.

Katsuki’s head turned so fast he worried about whiplash. Oh. Right. Izuku was also staring hungrily at the shower. That giant shower was big enough to comfortably fit five people—with room to spare—and had multiple showerheads coming from what Katsuki thought of as a normal height and positions, as well as sideways from the walls, and a giant brushed metal panel across the entire ceiling of it that … was that whole thing one giant shower head?!

“You want to play with the settings?” Shouto asked, already naked and stepping in. He sighed in relief as soothing hot water came out of the tap and fell onto his bare chest.

Izuku hopped on one foot, trying to get his pants leg and sock off in one movement, before he chucked the whole mess into the hamper. Bakugou got undressed more slowly, he was painfully aware of old aches and bruises acting up along with his newest souvenirs. This sucked. He was still a teenager and already too old for this shit. Fuck. No wonder there weren’t that many heroes active as long as All Might. He tucked his folded clothes, and Izuku and Shouto’s rumpled messes, neatly inside the hamper before joining his boyfriends in hot, steamy bliss.

Oh. Oh, that felt good. Everything was warm and wet and the flow was just right to wash away the grime of the night and make him feel clean.

“Kats,” Shouto touched his shoulder and turned him to face away from the shower wall, “look at me. Stay there.”

Katsuki looked past Shouto’s shoulder. Izuku was near the opposite wall off the massive shower, standing under his own showerhead, watching both of them and grinning. The fuck did he know that Katsuki didn’t?

Shouto crowded into Katsuki’s space and reached past his shoulder to turn the settings knob.

Katsuki gasped in surprise. That felt really good.

Water jets from those weird nozzles on the wall turned on full blast. They had even more pressure than the powerful showerheads spraying from above. Katsuki wriggled in place, letting the jets massage from one side of his shoulders and lumbar to the other. Then he dropped down and stood back up so the stream went from lower back and shoulders to mid back and neck and down again. It was better than a massage. He danced in place. His eyes rolled back with delight and he moaned.

“Yeah,” Izuku agreed, “it feels so good.”

Shouto stepped away and into his own stream of wall mounted shower heads. He stood a little further away from the wall though, to let his hair get soaked by the spray from above. The downpour had him thoroughly drenched, the strands of white and red on his part mixed with the force of it. After his hair was soaked through, he flicked his head back and splattered grimy water against the formerly pristine wall.

Katsuki watched, enraptured, his boyfriends were the most handsome fuckers on earth. Filthy water sluiced down muscled arms and abs and legs to taint the wet tiled floor.

The water running off them all and swirling into the drain was a muddy gray. Right. They were supposed to be getting clean before their bath. Now wasn’t the time to eye-fuck his boyfriends. Katsuki looked around for the soap only to have Izuku, clever nerd that he was, figure out what he was looking for and leave his stream to grab some from an inset shelf tucked on his side of the shower. No wonder Katsuki hadn’t found the soap. If it’d been on his side, he’d have gotten it even faster.

His pout turned to a smug smirk though when Izuku joined him and Shouto on the obviously-superior-because-Katsuki-was-there side of the shower.

Izuku hummed some catchy pop tune to himself while he washed Kacchan’s back. Humming was the only thing he could do to keep from purring while Shouto washed his.

Shouto’s hands were strong and firm. His knuckles ran up and down the sides Izuku’s spine like he was giving him a massage rather than bathing him. It felt so good. It felt even better when Kacchan decided to ‘help’ Izuku soap up by crushing their bodies together. They played around under the running water: feeling each other up, laughing, shushing each other so they didn’t wake Endeavor with all the noise, and just having lots of ridiculously sudsy fun.

Shouto washed their hair: Izuku’s first, then Kacchan’s. Afterwards, while the conditioner was soaking in, they both lathered up his hair. Shouto practically purred under Izuku’s fingertips scratching his scalp. The force of Kacchan’s hands on his head made his neck loll like a ragdoll’s. He seemed to enjoy it though, being taken care of by his boyfriends.

Izuku liked taking care of him. Of them both really, but Kacchan seldom submitted to pampering.

Once they were all rinsed it was time to bathe. Izuku gasped when Shouto opened a different door than the one they’d entered through. He’d thought it led to a bedroom—like an ensuite bathroom deal—but it was actually a separate room for the bath. A very traditional separate room for the bath, finished in gleaming cypress wood.^[3] The only modern aspect was the red and blue plastic bathing stool and a single showerhead on a long coil attached to the wall, well those and the electric lights.

No wonder Shouto had insisted they use the fancy shower. Izuku was feeling so refreshed after it, he almost didn’t need the bath to soak and relax in.

Shouto stepped in first. He sighed and got an expression of intense concentration on his face for a few moments, then the bath started steaming. Kacchan slipped in next. Izuku grinned watching his boyfriend cuddle under his other boyfriend’s right arm. Kacchan always chose Shouto’s right, leaving Izuku the left, which was fine, he liked it hot. The bath was huge, as ridiculously big as the shower. They could all easily sit abreast and have space left on either side of them, not that they would. Izuku took his place so they could all lean against each other in the massive bath.

As soon as Izuku was under his arm Shouto sank down and let his legs float. The mismatched leg hair colors echoed his head. It was something Izuku called cute and that just made Kacchan tease Shouto about other hair.

“This is nice,” Shouto stated the obvious to break the silence of water gently lapping at the tub walls, their own breathing, and constant drone of the powerful ventilation system that kept the wood walled room from going moldy.

“Never this quiet at UA,” Kacchan agreed.

He was right, of course. Izuku thought it was a little lonely, but even he would admit it was nice to have some privacy and not worry about Kacchan getting weirded out by ‘too much PDA’. Something gnawed at the back of Izuku’s anxiety ridden mind though. He just couldn’t remember what. If Kacchan wasn’t half asleep against Shouto’s chest he’d tell Izuku to ‘stop thinking so loud’, like he had so many times before.

Time stood still. They relaxed and enjoyed coexisting in the same space. Shouto heated up the water whenever it became too cool. Izuku watched and, in the stillness, was able to see the currents of heated water rippling away from where their bodies met. Little streams of hot water slowly rose to the surface as colder water sunk deeper. Convection currents … physics in action … whatever it was felt good against his heavily scarred right arm. He melted further into Shouto’s side. His own personal jacuzzi; how many other boys were this lucky? To have not just one but two wonderful boyfriends. Someone who understood them, wholly, completely, unflinchingly. Sure, they disagreed on some things. They still had to talk , which wasn’t Kacchan’s or Shouto’s strong suit and was something that plagued Izuku to excess. But … they all tried their best, were understanding when another failed or fell short, and grew stronger together as men and heroes.

Izuku could picture Kirishima clenching his fist and whispering ‘so manly’ if Izuku ever dared voice that thought around him.

They were lucky to have the best friends—the best classmates—around. The best teachers too. His life was just the best.

And nothing could ever spoil it.

Hawks woke gradually, and acknowledged this new state of being with a slow lazy stretch. Something had woken him up. He’d stayed over at the Todoroki mansion often enough that he knew it wasn’t the Musutafu birdsong ringing out its chorus in the predawn glow. It wasn’t the barest hint of sunrise brightening the room through traditional shoji doors leading to the engawa and garden beyond. Had he been dreaming of something? Running water? Probably. He felt like he had to pee. But being wrapped in Enji’s arms felt so good.

He didn’t have to pee that bad ; he could wait a bit, and stay cuddled up with his big bear of a boyfriend, and let Enji use him like a body pillow … just a little longer.

Hawks woke again. He’d been lulled back to sleep by Enji’s warmth and the slow rise and fall of his chest; the beat of his heart reverberated through Hawks’ feathers beneath the confines of the soft duvet. This was just so comfortable, he never wanted to get up. Hey, dating a guy for several months would do that to a man. They didn’t get to sleep together often, which made the nights and days they could spend with each other all the more precious.

That said … Hawks was thinking about relocating to Musutafu. Enji had offered to move down to Fukuoka, but Hawks knew—because Enji had told him—that Enji really wanted to stay local for Shouto. It wouldn’t be as long as it seemed, only until Shouto had graduated and was ready to leave the nest. Hawks was impatient though—too fast for his own good—and wanted to be with his mate now. Now and forever; hawks mated for life after all. He’d spent his life longing for Endeavor, and Enji Todoroki did not disappoint. So, Hawks spent more and more days off up here with his boyfriend. His big, warm, cuddly boyfriend with the pillowy pecs. And the heavily muscled, heavy, arm that was wrapped around Hawks’ waist and crushing his bladder.

Okay. Now he really had to pee.

Hawks struggled out of his lover’s grasp. Enji half-roused and made a sleepy sound of protest.

“Shhh, baby. I’m just going to the bathroom.” Hawks pet his partner’s face, and ran his thumb lovingly over his scarred hairline.

Enji sat up, releasing Hawks. He rubbed his eyes blearily and looked at the clock on his nightstand. “It’s 6:00AM.”

Hawks wrapped his wings around himself like a housecoat to stave off the morning chill.

“Why don’t you go take a warm bath and I’ll start cooking breakfast,” Enji’s voice was rough and sexy with sleep, rumbling through his chest like the purr of a big housecat.

Hawks nodded. Enji knew Hawks liked being warm, and that a hot bath was the perfect way to get him up to functional temperature. Enji also liked to cook. He was good at it. And doing things for others was his ‘love language’ as their couple’s therapist had called it. Hawks’ love language was quality time, which explained why he felt the overwhelming urge to spend all his free time with his lover. Their time together was also why he was in desperate need of a wash and soak this morning. Their activities the prior night had left him loose limbed and sore in all the right places. But Hawks, being a snuggly bird in the aftermath, had successfully convinced Enji they should keep cuddling for ‘just a little longer’, which resulted in them falling asleep without wiping off. Thus, Hawks found himself in his present predicament.

He brushed his teeth alongside Enji in the ensuite bathroom. He could have washed off in there too—it had a shower—but the main bathroom had a traditional Japanese bath adjoined. It also had Hawks’ favorite thing in the world.

Second favorite, to his Endeavor plushie.

Make that third favorite, to Enji and his plushie.

Whatever. It was at least in the Top Five Favorite Things of the Wing Hero Hawks. He stepped into the main bathroom, stripped naked, and turned it on. Water blasted from the ceiling of the shower in a torrential downpour. It was like standing in a rainstorm, but warm and under his control. Hawks spread his wings fully and crouched down, letting the water sluice off his feathers. Once they were sufficiently damp, he shook—like a dog—in a tooth rattling, full-body shiver that had droplets flying and smacking against the shower walls.

Oh, yeah. It was so gratifying. Hawks did the bird-in-a puddle routine again, this time getting his tailfeathers in on the act too; stretching them until each was on end and his scraggly tail was fully splayed and drenched. The second shake yielded the same satisfying smack and splatter of water against the walls. He leaned back, letting the ‘rain’ fall on his chest and upturned face. Once he was done luxuriating, he set to actually cleaning his body; washing off the sweat and spend from the night before. The hot water made the dried crusty bits between his legs slick and goopy again, which was always the least pleasant part of cleaning up hours after the deed was done.

His shower completed; Hawks gave himself one final shake to fling most of the water off his wings. Now it was time for a quick relaxing soak. Enji would come get him when breakfast was ready. He opened the door to the bath, eyes closed in contentment and whistling happily to himself; some birdlike trill he’d never make in front of anyone except his lover.

He heard a splash.

Hawks’ whistle became a startled screech. Shouto was in the bath! With Midoriya … and Bakugou—he assumed it was Bakugou—but it was hard to tell because the blond had ducked completely underwater.

“Hawks,” Shouto said in greeting, with his usual flat tone.

“Yup!” Hawks squeaked out, remembered he was naked, and floated several feathers over himself as a modesty panel. Privates out of sight and voice under control, he continued the pleasantries, “Good morning boys.”

Midoriya looked almost as red as Shouto’s hair but he shivered like he’d been dunked in ice. Strange, considering he was on Shouto’s left.

Bakugou though …

Hawks laughed, “He knows he’s gonna have to come up for air eventually, right?”

As if on cue Bakugou surged upward. He broke the water’s surface and took a heaving, gasping inhale, all the better to loudly shout, “Hawks! What’re you doing walking in on us, huh?!” He realized his mistake and whipped his head around, looking for a target for his anger that wasn’t older and a pro and therefore deserving of respect.

Embarrassment masked by rage, ah, how familiar. Hawks stifled a chuckle.

Midoriya stared at the ceiling, mumbling near wordless nonsense under his breath.

Hawks’ eyes followed Bakugou’s line of sight as it landed on Shouto, whose gaze was fixed on Hawks’—oh shit—on his naked body covered in hickies and sex-bruises.

“And you!” Bakugou growled through gritted teeth, “Stop staring at him!”

Shouto slung his arms, which Hawks noticed had been wrapped over the other students’ shoulders the entire time, further around the other heroes-in-training and pulled them closer to his sides.

“Don’t worry about it Katsuki, I’ve already got two boyfriends. Besides, I don’t want my father’s sloppy seconds.”

Sloppy—sloppy seconds?! Where had Shouto learned language like that!? Hawks would be offended if it wasn’t so funny to have a kid six years his junior talking like Hawks was the one caught canoodling in his father’s bathtub. This was awkward, but by no means the most awkward situation he’d been in.

“Sooo. Howsabout you don’t tell your dad about this, and I don’t tell your dad either. Deal?” Hawks gestured to the entire room with a wing while jerking his thumb in the general direction of the kitchen.

The three boys nodded like synchronized puppets on a string.

Hawks waved at them as he turned around and left the bathroom. “I’ll leave you kids to finish up your bath, and I’ll make sure Endeavor whips up enough breakfast for everyone.”

Well. Shit. They’d been walked in on by his father’s boyfriend. Which was less embarrassing than being walked in on by his father, but no less catastrophic for his wait-until-the-right-time-to-come-out plans. The only saving grace was that seeing the bruises and small burns littering the skin of Hawks’ thighs in handprint and finger shaped marks had made Shouto bold.

Bold and stupid.

“My boyfriends,” he whispered disbelievingly, “I called you my boyfriends , in front of Hawks .”

“I’m sure he misheard!” Izuku was quick to reassure.

“Who gives a fuck!” Katsuki snapped.

“Did you see his—”

“Not you too Deku!”

“I was going to say tail!”

Izuku and Katsuki’s arguing, oddly enough, soothed his nerves. Shouto stood on shaking legs and carefully left the bath to rinse off with cool water. He let himself drip on the floor when he went to get them all towels.

It had felt so natural to call them his boyfriends, because they were. Katsuki’s weird little possessive fit over Shouto ogling Hawks made Shouto feel possessive in turn. Having come out once … he felt like it might be easier to do so a second time, and perhaps each time after that.

That was how, with his boyfriends dressed in his clothes—only slightly baggy in some places and snug in others on Katsuki and oversized everywhere on Izuku—they found themselves sitting around the Todoroki family dining table. Breakfast was rice, grilled fish, natto, pickled vegetables, and corn soup with an egg dropped in for protein. Shouto drank down his entire bowl at once. The whole affair was almost nice, except that his father was sitting a ‘safe’ distance away from Hawks and refusing to touch, lean towards, or even look at him; as if he thought Shouto didn’t know the number one and two heroes in Japan were fucking. As if there weren’t hickies showing well above Hawks’ loose shirt collar and no one would notice his extra-large pajama shirt was obviously one of Shouto’s father’s.

This was just awkward. Shouto would know, being the socially awkward one in his relationship. Thankfully, he was experienced in breaking the ice.

“So, dad, your boyfriend walked in on me and my boyfriends in the bath. You should really teach him to knock.”

Chapter Text

Shouto knew! His words echoed through Enji’s mind: ‘your boyfriend’. Your boyfriend (implying possession and knowledge of their connection). Your boyfriend (implying romance and—Enji shivered—intent, with the potential for commitment). Which was accurate of course … but they weren’t public with it yet. How obvious were they if they couldn’t hide their relationship from a few teenagers?

Enji felt like he was physically reeling from the verbal blow. Hawks—his boyfriend—had walked in on Shouto and his boyfriends.

Wait.

There was a plural in there somewhere.

Boyfriends.

Meaning Shouto had more than one. Meaning it was, presumably, Bakugou and Midoriya … unless there were more high school boys hiding around the mansion. Fuyumi and Natsuo had never brought friends over or thrown house parties … now it appeared he’d have to worry about that from his youngest. Though who knew what all those young inexperienced kids were getting up to in the dorms without adult supervision. The girls’ and boys’ rooms being separated didn’t help when his son was interested in other men. Enji had been a teenager once. He remembered the raging hormones and what he'd gotten up to without dorms to escape to, away from parents and teachers.

His mouth ran ahead of him and spat out his first concern.

“I don’t want you to get hurt engaging in casual lovemaking …” Endeavor blushed, even while he tried to remain the stern but reasonable parental figure.

Frost creeped across the table from Shouto’s fingers, condensation formed a wet leading edge that just eased the way for more ice to crystalize. Shouto hiccupped, a small tongue of fire licked up his cheek and more ice crackled out from his right hand. Midoriya’s eyes were so wide and his face so pale Enji swore the poor boy was about to faint. Meanwhile, if Bakugou’s face got any redder he might just burst into flame; the boy looked an awkward mix of embarrassed, angry, and constipated.

Hawks cackled. Loud and long, with his hands clutching his sides and his wings flapping to keep his shaking body from falling over—and failing. Hawks knee hit the table edge when he toppled. The clatter of dishes made everyone jump. His hysterical laughter never paused.

Enji huffed a little. He didn’t understand what was so funny or embarrassing about this topic. He uncrossed his arms. ‘Stern but approachable’ he silently repeated to himself. Aloud he explained, “I just want to ensure your lovers are respectful of your feelings and physical boundaries. When you’re ready to take the next step in your relationship—it’s fine to not take that step and a relationship without intercourse isn’t any lesser—you shouldn’t let anyone pressure you into something you’re not ready for—a good partner won’t pressure you for or into anything, Shouto.” Enji rubbed a hand over his face with a defeated groan. This shouldn’t be so hard to say. “I'm not saying this right …” he paused, “You need to use protection.”

The quiet chortling as Hawks rolled on the floor rose in volume throughout Enji’s educational monologue. His laughter was like a murder of crows right in Enji’s ear. The sound was grating. His now-out-to-his-son-and-interns boyfriend was leaning on him for support when his hysterics morphed into a coughing fit.

That’s what he got for being obnoxious while eating.

“Enough Hawks, I’m trying to have a serious conversation with my son about sexual and reproductive health.”

“Bwhaha! Sexu—ha—reproduct—haha! Casual—ha— casual lovemaking !” Hawks screeched between ejaculations of laughter.

“I’m trying not to be crass,” Endeavor scolded to keep from sulking. “I don’t want to say,” Enji’s voice dropped to a whisper, “fuck—”

“You had no issues last night!”

“—in front of my son!” Enji growled and let a little flame show on his features.

The glimmer in Hawks’ eyes said he found it ‘hot’. Damn horny bird.

Enji cleared his throat behind his fist and tried to continue. His son and his son’s alleged boyfriends sat frozen with the exact same poses and expressions on their faces. “You need to make sure you are using protection. Condoms,” he clarified.

Shouto melted onto the table with a groan, “I do not want to talk about this.”

“I-i-it’s all right Mr.—uh—Endeavor—oh—Todoroki-san. Um. My mom already told me about, um, condoms,” Izuku stammered out as color finally returned to his face. His ears were as red as Shouto’s hair. He hunched deeper between his shoulders and picked at a chip in the table’s varnish. Izuku kept talking, but it was too stuttered and mumbled for even Enji to parse.

“We had sex-ed old man! Twice! In school! We don’t need the ‘birds and the bees’ talk again !” Bakugou exploded, literally, small eruptions crackled over his skin like rolling thunder when he shouted. His outburst done, the petulant blond puffed out his cheeks and scowled. Unlike when Hawks did it, this was just annoying.

“Yes, well, I should hope none of you are getting each other pregnant.” Enji tried to remember the terminology used now and the correct language from his agency’s last diversity and inclusion meeting. “Cis men engaging in anal sex still have other matters of sexual health to be concerned with.”

Shouto let out a strangled—“Please stop talking dad,”—moan from his place on the table.

“Engaging in anal sex can transmit STIs if condoms aren’t used. There may be some fecal matter during—ah—penetrative intercourse. The act itself can result in anal fissures, and may irritate existing hemorrhoids.”

Shouto raised his head just high enough to prop his elbows on the table and massage his temples while staring at his empty plate. He looked like he was being tortured.

“It is important to use a lubricant that is compatible with the condoms or other protective barrier your partner is wearing. The prostate—”

“I’m-done-eating-now-I’ll-clear-the-table!” Midoriya squeaked out an entire sentence as a single word and gathered the empty plates and dishes.

Bakugou lunged upwards and began cleaning up as well. “I’ll help!” In his rush to exit the room he didn’t even curse.

“Don’t you dare leave me here,” Shouto swore, his eyes never leaving the table as he continued to cover his horrified face.

“I’m only trying to give you parental advice,” Enji protested.

“Enji, darling?” Hawks grasped his arm with both hands and leaned against his side.

“I don’t want you to get hurt. I know how teenage boys can be.”

“Enji …” Hawks squeezed.

“You’re a smart young man, but you are still a child. I want—”

“Enji! Can you go do the dishes, please?” Hawks dug his fingernails—more like talons—in, borderline painfully.

Ouch. Alright. Point taken. Enji was butchering this conversation. As painful as it was to admit, Hawks was right. He needed to step back instead of forging forward and overwhelming his son and his … boyfriends. The fact they were dating Shouto had somehow turned Bakugou and Midoriya from ‘bright young men’ to ‘potential hooligans and heartbreakers’ in Enji’s mind. It was something he needed to sit down and think about. Had he overlooked their existing flaws because they were his son’s first friends? Or was he being unnecessarily overprotective now that his baby boy was growing up and maturing? He was being irrational either way. Enji took the dishes from Midoriya’s shaking hands.

Hawks’ feathers handled Bakugou’s collection of flatware and got the doors for Enji on his way to the kitchen. After they dropped the dishes into the sink they circled around, brushing against Enji’s arms the same way Hawks did. Two pressed together in a crude imitation of lips and pressed gently against his cheek.

“I love you too,” Enji whispered into the feathers, knowing Hawks would hear.

He should do the dishes. He should stay in the kitchen and let Hawks take the lead. But Shouto was his son; he had to know what they were saying. Which, since he was trying to be a better man and father … meant he would ask Hawks later and then fill in any knowledge gaps with Shouto after that. With a weary sigh Enji turned the water on full blast and started scrubbing.

Shouto massaged his temples with his fingertips and tried to relax. His mental monologue sounded like Bakugou, a litany of shit-shit-shit-fuck-shit-fuck. His dad had tried to give him ‘the talk’ in front of his boyfriends, over breakfast, while his father’s boyfriend sat there with hickies running up and down his entire neck. Plus the bruises and burns he’d seen earlier on Hawks’ legs, leading up under his twitchy red tailfeathers, which …

Which meant they’d—

Nope!

Shouto was not going to think about that. His dad … and Hawks …

Fuck! He was thinking about it! Gross gross gross gross gross.

“Your dad is trying his best, but he kinda sucks at this feelings stuff.” Hawks had his hands wrapped around his crossed ankles and was rocking back and forth while he talked. “Not that I’m much better!” His laugh was bright and ringing, like morning birdsong.

The Shouto of a few hours ago would have found it endearing. The mentally scarred Shouto now sitting at the table couldn’t believe he’d ever had a crush on this guy. On his dad’s boyfriend! Sure, Katsuki had joked about it, but he thought Eraserhead and Present Mic were fucking! And yeah, Izuku had notebooks full of evidence the top two were ‘romantically entangled’, but he had those for every hero in the top ten! But maybe Katuski hadn’t been joking and Midoriya’s observational skills were as keen as ever and Shouto … Shouto was oblivious.

“Please,” he begged, “don’t say condoms or … lovemaking.” He shuddered at that final word. How archaic. Despite being ostentatious and flowery it just made the deed sound even filthier! Never mind that he and his boyfriends hadn’t yet … y’know … that.

Hawks snorted. “Yeah, your dad … he tried. He can’t talk feelings so he went with practical stuff. What he was really getting at though,” Hawks leveled a glare and two pointy looking feathers to Shouto’s right and left, “was you two.”

Shouto whipped his head back and forth, trying to see both his boyfriends at once. Izuku looked concerned verging on scared, and Katsuki was just pouting like he’d heard this all before.

“You two may be his interns, you may be right there with Shouto in the top three at UA—”

“I’m fucking first!” Katsuki barked.

“Don’t care,” Hawks quipped. “Because it doesn’t matter what you’ve accomplished. What’s going on here is that you,” Hawks pointed directly at Shouto, “are his little boy, and that means all logic and reason flies right out the window.” Hawks mimed flying away with his wings and hands, even leaning into the gesture. “He doesn’t want you to get your heart broken. And even if his head knows they’re good kids, his dad-heart doesn’t.”

Shouto finally let his hands fall away from his face. He knew his dad cared. But, “Doesn’t he trust me?”

Hawks heaved a sigh, “He does, kid. But he doesn’t trust them. Love makes ya’ stupid. And yer dad loves ya’ lots, so he gets extra stupid.”

Izuku jerked in surprise and his fingers twitched; he was eager to take notes on Hawks’ slip into Hakata-ben¹ dialect. Shouto huffed softly to stifle his chuckle. His boyfriend was cute. Hawks was waiting for an answer though.

“That does sound like Endeavor,” Shouto admitted.

“So, a little warning from me … to you.” Hawks’ eyes narrowed and his pupils became cat-like slits as he stared down Izuku and Katsuki one at a time. “If either of you breaks Shouto’s heart … you won’t have time to be worried about Endeavor.” In an instant his scary face was back to a lopsided grin and he leaned his head on one arm propped atop the table, “But you’re smart kids and I know you’ve got nothing but the best of intentions towards my man’s little man.”

“I really do love them, Hawks.” Shouto didn’t know if he was justifying himself or trying to placate Hawks. Honestly, he was relieved the whole conversation had been about safe sex and healthy relationships instead of the number of boyfriends he had simultaneously.

“I know. That’s why I think you’ll all be just fine.”

There was an awkward silence for only a few seconds before Hawks filled it with chatter about how their night had gone. Was Suneater a good mentor? How many cases did they resolve on their own? And of course, were they sick of the paperwork yet? Nerves melted away like Shouto’s frost from the table. Midoriya stopped vibrating faster than a rabbit and Katsuki loosened up and returned to his usual animated self. Shouto smiled softly and let his boyfriends hold his hands while he bragged about a particularly good team-up move they’d pulled off.

Endeavor knocked on the frame of the shoji door.

Shouto waited a long moment before he said, “Enter.”

The door hissed open in its frame and Endeavor quietly closed it behind himself before rejoining them. He sat at the table as if he was the one getting lectured at.

“Hawks and I had a good talk.” Shouto kept the upper hand by speaking first. He almost wanted to ask Hawks ‘what are your intentions towards my father’ like in a marriage interview … but he’d keep that remark in reserve for a better time. Perhaps next family dinner. “Midoriya and Bakugou are good to me, father. Please, treat them like you did before, because nothing’s changed except now you know.”

Izuku and Katsuki were sitting in proper seiza with their backs straight, chins up, and eyes forward like this was a marriage interview. Shouto smiled; they were so cute. He noticed how his father’s face brightened when he noticed Shouto’s smile. Hawks was right, he really did care.

“Now that we’ve eaten … would you all like to spar before you go back to the dorms?” Endeavor offered.

Their relationship was strange, but it worked.

Hawks stretched, his arms rising above his head were overshadowed by his wings doing the same. “Sounds like fun.”

“What a wonderful training opportunity!”

“I’ll kill all of you!”

Shouto had to laugh at his boyfriends. As strange as his family was, they fit into it and made him feel whole. So did his father’s acceptance of him as a person. His gut had been right, coming out the second time was easier.

“Thanks, dad.”