The little things

A belated little fathers day ficlet that I only just finished because hoo boy exams are not fun. Enjoy some domestic family softness!!

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Izuku burst through the door with his arms so full he thought the pile might topple over as he kicked his shoes off. Normally he’d have been more polite, would have at least knocked, but it was a special occasion and he didn’t want to waste a moment longer than absolutely necessary. He hurried down the hall, socked feet padding quietly on the clean carpet, until he reached the living room and released an armful of brightly coloured balloons.

“Happy Fathers Day!” he said brightly, smile so wide he suspected his jaw would ache later. “Sorry I’m late! I took All Might out for breakfast and time got away from us!”

Brown eyes got a little misty behind thick lenses, and Izuku quickly set aside his pile of gifts in favour of wrapping his arms around a body that felt too thin for his comfort.

“You didn’t have to,” he said softly. “Thank you for coming, Izuku.”

“Of course I came! I wouldn’t miss it!”

He sat down on the comfy sofa, leaning in close, and finally caught a glimpse of the tiny smiles aimed his way. Katsuki wasn’t one to smile a lot, but he had the sweetest little fond one that was only ever aimed at Izuku, and Izuku treasured it every day of his life. Mitsuki was a little freer with her emotions, quicker to smile or laugh, but still there was a fond little look that she gave to Izuku and Katsuki when she thought they weren’t looking, softer than her usual expressions.

Masaru, on the other hand, made no efforts to hide what he was feeling. Izuku had always hoped that Katsuki might learn from it one day, as he got older – he had a lot of respect for his Dad, after all, so maybe one day he’d learn to embrace that side of himself and open up a little more.

For the moment, though, all that mattered was the happy tears spilling down Masaru’s cheeks, and Izuku leaning in, hugging him tight to his side.

“You were the only male role-model I had, growing up,” he whispered, even though he knew the words didn’t need to be said. “Thank you for always being here when I needed a Dad.”  

“I’m so lucky to have you in my life,” Masaru answered, surprisingly coherent considering the torrents that now flooded down his cheeks, mirrored by Izuku’s own freckled face. “I’ve always told people I have two sons.”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Katsuki sighed, smiling all the same as the pair sobbed together on the couch cushions. “You do this every damn year, it’s starting to get ridiculous.”

“It’s important!” Izuku whined, pouting when Katsuki dropped into the seat beside him and half-heartedly tried to pull him away. “I don’t want him to forget!”

“Like he’d ever forget,” Katsuki snorted. “Come on, we’ve been waiting for your ass, it’s time for presents. You still alive, old man?”

Masaru swallowed hard, his smile returning as he nodded just once.

“Sorry, forgive an old man his sentimentality,” he chuckled. “I’m just so proud of you both.”

“Don’t start, you’ll get the nerd soggy all over again.”

He ruffled Izuku’s hair fondly, and with a last sniff, Izuku wiped his face on his sleeve. His smile was back, out in full-force again despite the recent downpour, and Katsuki couldn’t resist a tiny one of his own.

“Alright old man, take a look at all the cool shit we got you.”

“You know you don’t have to get me presents,” Masaru insisted. “Spending time with you is enough! You don’t need to spend your hard-earned money on me!”

“We want to,” Izuku insisted.

“Just open the damn gifts.”

Katsuki snatched one from the pile, thrusting it into Masaru’s lap, and protests halted on Masaru’s lips when their eyes met. Katsuki wasn’t very good at showing affection, that was a secret to no one, so in those moments when he made such a fuss about giving gifts or helping them out in some way, his family knew to take it for what it was – his own brand of stubborn affection.

Most of the gifts were simple; Izuku and Katsuki had been collecting them up over the space of about a month, just little bits and pieces like his favourite expensive coffee and a box of fancy chocolates, but they’d splurged on a few big-ticket items too, since work had been going so well for them both. The new phone was the biggest, and one of Katsuki’s personal favourites – his old one barely held a charge and the speaker was so broken that he could hardly make a phone call, but he was always so overwhelmed by the choices when it came time to replace things like that. Katsuki had spent a long time choosing the best one, listing all the different pros and cons and weighing them out until he found the perfect new device for his Dad to call him on. The tears began again when he opened it, and Katsuki sighed, though he smiled as he did.  

“I set it all up, too,” he said, with a surprising softness. “You don’t need to work out any of the set-up, just stick your card in it and you’re good to go.”

“You’re amazing, Katsuki, this is too much.”

“It’s no big deal. Like the nerd said, we want to.”

Izuku’s eyes were trained on the last box in the pile, Katsuki avoiding it with every touch, making sure to leave it until last and somehow make it look casual in the process. They both knew exactly what was in the little cube, wrapped in unassuming white paper and a silver ribbon that Izuku had spent a solid fifteen minutes getting just right.

“Last one,” Katsuki said breathlessly, as he handed it over. “I, um, hope you like this one. We uh, worked hard on it?”

“I’m sure it’s amazing.”

Izuku’s hand snaked into Katsuki’s as Masaru admired the wrapping, carefully untying the pretty bow, and the sweaty fingers gripped him back tightly. Izuku held his breath as the lid came off, and then the simple white mug was sliding out of the box, Masaru’s eyes blinking at the bold red letter in confusion for a moment.

“Surprise,” Izuku squeaked, trembling with both nerves and excitement.

Slowly, Masaru turned to look at them, eyes filling with tears again when he saw the expressions on their faces – not just Izuku’s this time, but Katsuki’s too. For the first time in what had to be years, Masaru saw the shine of tears in Katsuki’s eyes.

“What is it?” Mitsuki asked, rounding the couch to take a look. “World’s Greatest- Oh my God.”

“It’s a little boy,” Izuku spluttered, barely controlling his voice enough to make coherent sounds. “He’s due in a few weeks, and they’ve asked us to be his Dads.”

The next ten minutes may as well have never existed in their lives, for all they accomplished. None of them could seem to find any words, cut off by overwhelmed tears and wracked sobs. Katsuki would never admit it, but he was no better, clinging to Izuku’s hand so tightly he thought it might bruise later as rough breaths shuddered in and out of his lungs.  

Masaru hugged the mug to his chest, wrapping both arms around it like it was the greatest possession he’d ever owned, and Katsuki didn’t object when Izuku dragged him closer for hugs.  

“You’re gonna be the best grandfather,” Izuku choked out, scrubbing at his tear-stained face with determination, only for more to fall immediately in their place. “I’m so happy our s-son will get to have you in his life.”

“I’m so happy you’ll let me!” Masaru answered, painfully sincere. “Just think, next year all three of us will get to celebrate!”

“Don’t we already?” Katsuki snorted, finding some composure finally. “Nothing is gonna change. Not until the brat is old enough to make presents, at least.”

“You two are going to be amazing parents, I’m so happy for you. I hope he brings you even half the joy you’ve each brought me.”

“Damn it, I thought we were done with the sappy stuff,” Katsuki smirked, allowing it all the same when Izuku brought Masaru into their hug. “Maybe I should just leave you two alone here for a bit.”

Izuku reached up, and before Katsuki even knew what he was doing, Mitsuki was being absorbed into the mass, throwing her arms around them all as Izuku pulled her closer. Against his better judgment, Katsuki didn’t pull away, even chuckled to himself as they all merged into one.

“You know, World’s Greatest Grandfather comes with a lot of responsibility,” he teased. “Like babysitting when we need sleep.”

“Gladly.”

“And diaper changes.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“And spoiling him rotten so I don’t have to feel guilty about being tough on him.”

“You’re going to spoil him more than anyone,” Masaru objected. “Don’t lie to me, Katsuki.”

“Kacchan is gonna be so doting,” Izuku agreed, giggling to himself. “He’s gonna be so cute!”

“I need to start designing matching outfits,” Mitsuki grinned, watching Katsuki predictably roll his eyes at the notion. “Your photos will be all over the media, I need to make sure my sons and grandson look their best!”

“Like little mini hero costumes?” Izuku suggested, eyes lighting up. “I had a tiny All Might costume as a kid, I wonder if Mom still has it.”

“You’re such a nerd,” Katsuki said fondly. “What about a mini Deku costume?”

“Do they make those?”

“Mom could,” he pointed out. “Isn’t that what we’re talking about?”

“Oh!” Izuku gasped, face lighting up. “A little black onesie with an orange cross on it?!”

“I can do that,” Mitsuki laughed. “I’ll have it ready by the time he’s born. And a green one with a matching rabbit hat, too!”

“It’s not-”

“It’s absolutely a rabbit,” Katsuki cut him off. “Get used to it.”

“Meanie.”

Despite his pout, Izuku had never known the room to feel so warm before, so full of love and adoration shared amongst the family. He was so used to debates, arguments, yelling if Mitsuki or Katsuki were in a mood – he wasn’t used to this softness that had come over them all.

“We should go out to dinner,” Masaru suggested. “To celebrate. Call Inko, she should be there too.”

“To celebrate Fathers Day?” Katsuki smirked.

Masaru chuckled, reaching out to ruffle blond spikes fondly, and for once in his life Katsuki didn’t pull away.

“I’ll call her,” Mitsuki offered, straightening up and reaching for her phone. “And I’ll call around and make a reservation.”

“Let me,” Katsuki insisted, prying his way out of Izuku’s grasp. “I’ll throw my name around and get us somewhere good.”

“You’re the best son,” Mitsuki snorted. “Alright, you call restaurants, I’ll call Inko, and Izuku, sweetie, you can cry some more with Masaru.”

As much as Izuku wanted to object, he could feel the tears pricking at his eyes again, and he suspected Masaru wasn’t far off either.

“Well, if you insist,” he said instead, wrapping an arm around Masaru’s shoulders. “It’s been so hard to not blurt it out and tell everyone this week, we wanted you to be the first!”

Sure enough, the tears came out in an instant, and Izuku was right behind him, laughing and sobbing at the same time while Katsuki rolled his eyes at them again.  

“But really,” he spluttered. “You’ll babysit sometimes and visit us and stuff, right? I want you guys and Mom to be involved in his life! Me and Kacchan are so new to this, we could use your advice and your input while we figure out how it all works, even if it’s just the occasional weekend visit when you’re not too tired and busy from work!”

“Don’t be silly, Izuku,” Masaru laughed, wiping his tears on his sleeve. “I’m moving in.”