Archive of Our Own

There is nothing more sacred than enjoying a good meal alone.

Yeah, that’s right – alone. Making a bomb-ass meal all by your damn self, and then plopping on the couch to watch whatever shit you want to? Katsuki can’t think of a better way to spend a Friday night. 

He used to fucking hate morning patrols – nothing exciting ever fucking happens at 8:00am. But he has to admit, having the evenings to himself a few days out of the week is pretty fucking priceless, even if it means all the big bads are taken down by whoever’s on night shift. Deku barely even has a regular fucking schedule with how often he travels, and Icyhot just can’t fucking wake up early enough for the ass-crack of dawn morning patrols anyways.

So it works out. It’s great for roommate living – he and Halfie each get time away from each other. Alone time.

Sacred, holy, amazing, relaxing alone time, without the world’s biggest weirdo asking you alien questions like how do I put detergent in the washing machine? and what does ‘friends with benefits’ mean?

Katsuki’s about halfway through eating his dinner when there’s a knock at the door. He pauses the show he’s watching – they’re about to vote some sorry asshole off the island and Katsuki’s not about to miss that fight, thank you. He stands up, and yanks open the door.

It only takes a damn millisecond for him to regret opening it.

Deku’s standing there, covered in fucking dirt and grime, with rips all over his hero costume. Not much blood, though, and he’s standing up straight like he’s uninjured, so – whatever. 

The thing that’s not whatever, though, is– standing next to Deku, less than a meter tall and swimming in a familiar looking t-shirt.

It’s– it's fucking Icyhot. 

Like, 20 years too young, Icyhot. He’s covered in dirt too – there are tear tracks on his face that cut through the grime as he stares up at Katsuki with wide, innocent eyes.

“No. No. Fucking– what the fuck is this?!”

“Kacchan, please don’t freak out,” Deku says hurriedly, though he sounds fucking tired.

“What the hell do you mean, don’t freak out?” Katsuki yells. “What the fuck happened?!”

“It’s just a quirk! A robbery got a little… out of hand and–” he glances over at Baby Icyhot, who’s looking down the hallway as Deku holds his hand. “...Things happened.”

Katsuki runs his hand through his hair. “Well, then– take him to a hospital or something, what the fuck? What kind of quirk does this kind of shit?!”

Deku waves his free hand in front of him. “We know how it works. The perp worked for the government at one point, so his quirk is well-documented. His files say it wears off in a couple days, and then Shouto will be back to his regular self.”

“Oh, well then it’s all fucking good then!” Katsuki jeers, throwing his hands up. “No big deal, just snatched 20 years off of Halfie’s life for a couple days. Fuckin’ peachy!”

Deku rolls his eyes. “Look, I know it’s not ideal, but I need you to take him for a little while. He lives here anyways, and I still have to file all of his paperwork over at the agency because…well, he can’t.”

Katsuki narrows his eyes. “Me, take him? Are you out of your fucking mind? You think I want to play babysitter all weekend for this little freak?”

"Kacchan–” Deku snaps. “He’s not a baby. He can understand you when you say things like that. Just– please? I’ll be back when I have time, alright? We have no other options right now.”

Katsuki shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest. It’s fucking annoying when Deku’s right.

“Fine," he says, sighing for dramatic effect. “You better come right back. I don’t– I don’t fuck with kids.”

Deku’s shoulders slump with relief. “Thank you.”

He turns to Baby Icyhot, clasping his little hand in his gloves. His voice is soft and gentle.

“Shouto, you’re going to spend some time with Kacchan tonight. I’ll be back later, okay?”

Baby Icyhot shoots Katsuki a nervous looking side-eye, and turns back to Deku. He doesn’t say anything, or nod or whatever. He just stands there with bambi eyes, fiddling with the fabric of the t-shirt dress he’s wearing.

“It’ll be alright, I promise!” Deku says, putting a hand on his back to guide him inside the apartment.

Icyhot looks around the room, hesitating right inside the door.

Deku then grabs Katsuki’s arm, and drags him out into the hallway.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing–”

“You have to be nice to him, Kacchan. I mean it,” Deku says, his voice all deep and serious. 

Katsuki scoffs. “You really think I’m gonna be an asshole to a fucking kid?”

“No, no, I mean– he’s just…” Deku tries, his hands gesturing in the air like he’s trying to pick the words out of nothing. “He’s Shouto. He’s got some– some quirks to him, at this age.”

“The hell does that even mean?” Katsuki asks. “Adult Icyhot’s a fucking weirdo. Of course he’s gonna be a weird kid.”

Deku heaves a big breath, looking at Icyhot over Katsuki’s shoulder. “I just– just be careful with him alright?”

Katsuki rolls his eyes again. “Do you fucking want me to watch him or not?”

He smiles, and relaxes a bit. “Right. Thanks, Kacchan. Bye Shouto!”

He waves, and fucks off down the hall, leaving Katsuki and Baby Icyhot alone in the silent apartment.

He can’t be more than five years old – he’s so damn little, and his stupid baby face could be slapped on billboards if it wasn’t for that nasty scar that mars his little cheek. That’s the only indication of his age that Katsuki can reliably use – he doesn’t know shit about kids.

But he does know shit about Icyhot.

The little gremlin just stands there like a statue, looking up at Katsuki with giant eyes.

“You gonna take your shoes off, or what?” Katsuki says.

He lifts up the bottom of his t-shirt dress, which just so happens to be the extra shirt that Icyhot keeps in his locker at work, Katsuki suddenly recognizes – and wiggles his bare little toes.

Katsuki scowls. “Deku let you fucking walk around barefoot? In this city?” 

His posture shrinks down slightly, and he stares at the floor. 

“Oh, come on. I’m not– I’m not mad at you Halfie.” Katsuki offers, trying to reason with a fucking infant for whatever stupid reason. He squats down low, to get on eye-level.

He tries to ignore the way Icyhot takes a nervous step backwards.

“Look, dummy. I’m Katsuki,” he says, touching a hand to his chest. “Can you say that?”

Icyhot just continues staring at the ground. He doesn’t say a damn thing.

Katsuki shakes his head. “Silent treatment from a damn five year-old. You really are Shouto, huh?”

He lifts his head, at his name. He still doesn’t say anything, but he looks less like a kicked puppy now.

“You’re all dirty,” Katsuki says, grabbing his jaw and turning his head this way and that to see all the dirt and shit all over his face. “You wanna shower? Do– do five year-olds know how to shower?”

Icyhot looks almost as confused as Katsuki feels. 

He scrubs a hand over his face. “God dammit.”

After a quick google search and a few minutes of panicked cursing, Katsuki answers his own question.

Most five year-olds apparently do not know how to shower.

So here he is, testing the bathwater to make sure it’s not too hot for his stupid fucking roommate who can’t even manage to not get hit with the world’s most annoying quirk. 

He squirts a bit of Icyhot’s body wash in the water, and mixes it around to get it all soapy and shit, and decides that it’s as good as it’s gonna get.

“Alright, c’mere Haflie,” Katsuki calls, as he shuts the water off. “You’re lucky I’m nice, I set you up good.”

He doesn’t hear any little footsteps, so he turns to go find the little bastard.

But he just about shits his fucking pants when the kid is standing right behind him, like this is the fucking Shining or some shit.

“Jesus fuck–” Katsuki jumps, slamming his elbow on the tub. “Ow, dammit–”

Icyhot just about jumps out of his skin too, at the noise and the motion. He flinches away, turning his head with his hands halfway up.

And– fuck, does that reaction make Katsuki want to die a little bit.

“Shit – sorry–” Katsuki urges, as he rubs his elbow. “Sorry, Halfie. You alright? I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Icyhot stands up straighter, closing his eyes for a second as he takes a big breath in and out, flexing his fingers and hands at his sides. He looks exactly like his older self as he does it; it’s 25 year-old Shouto’s go-to move too when he needs to recalibrate, calm down, whatever. Katsuki noticed it first at UA, but he does it all the time even as an adult. Must’ve been a grounding thing he learned when he was young – from who, Katsuki doesn’t know. He probably taught himself, honestly.

It’s a good technique, especially given their exceptionally stressful line of work. It’s just– something in his stomach clenches when he remembers why five year-old Halfie would have enough stress in his life to necessitate learning it.

Regardless, Katsuki relaxes a little at the familiar sight of it, and exhales. “Forgot about your stupid baby trauma,” he says, under his breath. “You gonna hop in before this shit gets cold, or what?”

Katsuki turns to face the wall as Baby Icyhot follows directions, taking off his giant shirt and sitting in the bathtub.

He doesn’t hear any more splashing, after that.

Katsuki peeks behind him to check what the fuck he’s doing, and he sees the kid just sitting there, like a damn doll.

“Fucking– wash yourself, dummy.” Katsuki demands.

Icyhot just shoots a puzzled expression his way, and Katsuki scrubs a hand over his face. 

“Jesus christ– why the fuck do people even have children?” he grumbles, standing up. “I’ll be right back. Don’t fucking drown, or I’ll kill you.”

He heads to the kitchen, opens up the cupboard, grabs the biggest plastic cup he can find, and comes back.

“Can’t believe I gotta do all the work around here– bastard probably had a nanny to wash his ass” he grumbles, kneeling next to the tub and plunging the cup in the water. “Tilt your head back.”

Icyhot does what he’s told, and Katsuki dumps the warm water over his fluffy, dirty hair. He grabs the bottle of Icyhot’s shampoo, and squirts some out in his hands.

He gets to work sudsing up his hair, working the shampoo into a lather all the way around his little head. Halfie’s eyes flutter closed for a few seconds, like he’s enjoying his free massage, the bastard.

He rinses out the shampoo and grabs a clean washcloth to wipe the damn dirt off of his pale little face. He tries to turn away, scrunching up his nose as Katsuki tries to get it all off.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re like a fucking cat, I know. Deal with it.” He drawls, handing the washcloth to Icyhot. “Wash off the rest of your body like that, yeah? I’ll be right back.”

He steps out again, and this time beelines to Icyhot’s room. He’s got to have all the extra towels in here somewhere, the damn hoarder–

And it’s when Katsuki sees one of Halfie’s sweatshirts laying on his bed, that he realizes–

He has no clothes for the naked child sitting in his bathroom right now.

Fucking— shit.

“God dammit,” Katsuki grumbles, shoveling through a bajillion different tiny shirts. “How the hell am I supposed to know your size, you little fucker?”

There’s a small department store down the block from their apartment, thank fucking god. It’s past dinner time, so he’s fucking lucky this one has evening hours. Otherwise, Halfie would have to live in his bullshit makeshift outfit that Katsuki’s given him for the entire night.

It’s the best he could do, alright? A giant gray hoodie, and some boxers that shrunk like hell in the wash a couple weeks ago, made smaller with knots and rubber bands and whatever else Katsuki could think of to make them fit. He couldn’t think of anything for shoes, though, so here he is, holding 30 pounds of dead weight in one arm, and shoulder deep in the kids shirts display with the other.

“Sir?” a woman asks suddenly, to his left. “Do you– need help?”

She’s wearing a vest and a nametag, eyeing Katsuki with what looks like maternal pity as he holds up each little shirt to Halfie’s chest.

Katsuki narrows his eyes and turns to the side in an effort to conceal Icyhot’s stupidly recognizable face. “No.”

She inspects the two of them before eventually grabbing one of the shirts Katsuki was looking through, and handing it to him.

“He looks like he’d be a small, maybe a medium–” she says kindly. “And for shoes, 16cm to 18cm is typical for his age.”

Katsuki just blinks. Icyhot tries to turn and look at her, but Katsuki grabs the back of his hooded head to make sure she can’t see his face.

She smiles kindly, her eyes wrinkling at the corners. “Let me know if you need anything else, dear.”

And she fucks off, as soon as she arrived. Like a damn fairy godmother.

Katsuki takes a breath, and scrubs a hand over his face. He turns his head to look at Halfie, in his arms.

Halfie just blinks at him, and shakes his head back and forth to make the hood fall off.

“Shit– quit doing that!” Katsuki whispers, raising the hood to cover his head again. “I know you hate it, alright? Just– lemme get you your shit and we can go home. It’s not my fault your candy cane ass is famous.”

Katsuki snags some little-kid shirts, and pants, and pajamas and underwear and socks and all the stupid bullshit he needs. He puts Halfie on the ground as he inspects the kids shoes, trying to grab the cheapest bullshit pair he can find.

And in two seconds, the little bastard vanishes.

“Fucking hell–” Katsuki scans the ailes of shoes. “Where the fuck did you go you little fucker –”

The damn ankle biter runs up to him after a minute or two of panicked searching, holding a book in his little hands that are lost in the giant sleeves of the sweatshirt.

“Jesus, you’re gonna give me a damn heart attack, you little–”

Icyhot’s looking to the side, all shy. He lifts the book slightly up, so Katsuki can see it.

It’s an All Might coloring book.

Katsuki heaves a breath, and scoops him up in his arms again. “If you promise not to do that shit again, you can have it. Deal?”

As usual, Katsuki’s answered with nothing but a short nod, and Bambi eyes. Katsuki picks up his basket full of shit with his other arm, feeling like a damn pack mule as he trudges towards the checkout lines.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, you little bastard.”

Katsuki’s starting to think he might be kind of okay at this, after all.

There’s soft music coming from that set of shitty speakers that Shouto gave to Katsuki for Christmas last year. Savory smells and sizzling sounds fill up the entire kitchen, as Katsuki tends to the sauteed veggies on the stove. He already had dinner obviously, but who knows when this little shit last ate, so.

Periodically, he peeks over his shoulder to make sure Baby Icyhot is still alive or whatever.

He’s kneeling on his chair, half laying across the kitchen table with a crayon in his little fist. His tongue is poking out of his mouth as he quietly scribbles all over the damn book. He’s finally wearing real fucking clothes, and he’s still just– quiet. Calm. Focused.

Icyhot might be the easiest kid in existence. Stark contrast to older Icyhot, who’s always up Katsuki’s ass with his lame-ass commentary about every damn thing.

But then he sets the kid up with a plate full of delicious fucking food from yours truly, and things stop being so easy.

“C’mon, asshole. The’re just fucking vegetables! You like them!” Katsuki pleads. 20 fucking minutes of Shouto pushing around his stupid food, and his patience is wearing thin.

The kid just– sits there, looking around the room like he didn’t hear Katuski.

“Don’t you wanna eat to grow big and strong and kick villain ass or whatever?”

Shouto just blinks at him, and slowly shakes his head. Katsuki drops his head in his hands. 

It’s fucking late– definitely too late for a damn baby to still be awake, he’s fairly sure. But– he’s pretty sure you’re supposed to feed these things before they go to sleep, and god knows adult Shouto is shit at remembering to feed himself. Maybe he was a giant baby, all this time. Damn.

He groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Alright, I’ll cut you a deal, alright? Two big bites, and you can be done. That’s as good as it’s gonna get, so take it or leave it.”

The bastard looks thoughtful for a second, before clumsily shoveling two bites of vegetables into his mouth with his chopsticks. He blinks up at Katsuki, smug and challenging even as a damn five year-old.

Shit, maybe you can negotiate with terrorists.

He pushes his plate away, and grabs the abandoned coloring book again, opening it up to a random uncolored page. 

Katsuki gathers his dishes. “See, I told you you’d like ‘em. Smug bastard never fucking believes me. Ten minutes, and then bed. Got it?”

Icyhot doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t look up, either. He’s got a crayon in his hand, but he’s staring down at the coloring book with a weird fucking look on his little face.

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Don’t fucking give me shit about sleeping, alright? It’s already late enough. You’re lucky I even let you stay up.”

All of a sudden, Halfie slowly pushes the coloring book away from him, and steps off the chair. He comes around to Katsuki’s side of the table, and just… stands next to him. Not touching or anything, just– standing stiff, with his little fists worrying in front of him, right by Katsuki’s side.

Katsuki narrows his eyes. “What, finished already? There’s no fucking way you colored through all of this shit in one night.”

He grabs the book, and looks at the page he left off on.

It’s–  Endeavor. 

Cartoon Endeavor, following behind Cartoon All Might. He’s got his signature scowl, and plenty of flames.

And, well – shit starts to make sense.

“You don’t like your old man,” Katsuki remembers. “Damn, Shou. Didn’t think you were this little when that shit started. Fuck.”

It’s not that he wasn’t aware of Icyhot’s… issues. Katsuki knew he was a weird dude the minute they met, and after the sports festival their first year at UA, the pieces started to slowly come together to show exactly why Half and Half was a weird moody robot. His old man’s a piece of shit, almost everyone knows that. But Icyhot’s not that miserable, angry teenager anymore. He’s his own person now, one who’s successful and content with the life that he has far outside of his shitty dad’s reach. He has friends, a social life, hobbies, a job, and the best damn roommate in all of Japan – the guy is doing more than alright for himself, and Katsuki’s had enough conversations with him about it to know that he doesn’t think about his childhood very often anymore.

Thing is – Katsuki’s also seen enough of adult Icyhot waking up screaming in the middle of the night to know that that shit never fully goes away, no matter how good things get.

The actuality of the life that Halfie lived for 15 fuckin’ years – a man the size of Endeavor, putting hands on someone this little, this innocent – hits him square in the chest right then, as baby Icyhot looks up at Katsuki with big mismatched eyes. 

On the rare occasions that Shouto’s talked about it, Katsuki would imagine 15 year-old Icyhot in that house, training until he drops from exhaustion. That was already bad enough. But god– imagining him at this age, going through that abusive ass quirk training, especially with a power as unruly and complex as his–

It’s– it’s fucking gross, is what it is. He was a damn baby.

Katsuki lifts him up to sit on his lap and grabs a crayon, trying to push down the tight anger in his throat.

“What if we gave him dumb hair?” Katsuki asks, drawing curls surrounding Endeavor’s angry face on the page. “He’s always squinting and shit– what about glasses?”

Icyhot giggles as he watches the picture turn into some ridiculously stupid doodle, and he relaxes back against Katsuki’s chest, grabbing the crayon to add little drawings of his own.

His voice is so fucking– cute as he laughs. Katsuki would probably want to hurl if that knot in his chest wasn’t loosening at the sound of it.

He draws big angry bushy ass eyebrows on top of Katsuki’s bullshit glasses, and Katsuki finds himself laughing too. Maybe– maybe he is good at this shit.

Cartoon Endeavor is looking less and less human by the second, until there’s a knock at Katsuki’s door.

Icyhot jumps, and snaps his head around. 

“Hey, it’s me,” Deku says, inviting himself in like he fucking lives here. “Sorry for taking so long!”

Immediately, Icyhot hops off Katsuki’s lap, and runs to Deku.

And that’s– that’s just fucking great. 

He grabs onto Deku’s legs, like he couldn’t fucking wait to get away from–

“Hi, Shou!” he says, with an enthusiasm so forced that Katsuki wonders when the last time he got a full night's sleep was. “I like your shirt!”

Icyhot looks down at his little shirt with paw prints on it, and smiles.

Deku plops down in the chair opposite of Katsuki. “I didn’t even think about clothes, I’m sorry. Were they expensive? I can pay you back if–”

“Forget it,” Katsuki grunts, crossing his arms. “S’fine.”

“His paperwork is all filed, and the incident report is under review so we’re all good there. I ran into Eijirou and Ochaco on the way back, they said they’d be by on Saturday to help,” he says, lifting Icyhot onto his lap, mirroring the way Katsuki had been sitting with him just a moment ago. 

He’s not sure why he’s so annoyed right now. Especially considering he didn’t want to do this shit in the first place. It’s fucking– it’s a good thing that Halfie obviously prefers Deku. Katsuki fucking hates kids. He didn’t want to do this shit anyways, so who fucking cares.

Shouto pages through his coloring book to show Deku his shitty drawing skills, with a comfortable smile on his baby face. 

Fucking great. It can be Deku’s problem then.

“Good. I ain’t paid enough to play fuckin’ babysitter,” Katsuki grumbles. 

“Has his agent called?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Katsuki bites, though the question reminds him that his agent left him a voicemail about an hour ago. “Does he even have his phone?”

“If he didn’t lose it in the fight today, it might be in his locker, at the agency. I didn’t even think about that,” Deku says, yawning as he looks out the window of the apartment. He looks fucking exhausted– not that that’s unusual.

Katsuki catches a glimpse of cartoon Endeavor in the coloring book, again. 

“Does his family know about all this shit?”

Deku raises his eyebrows. “No. Not that I know of.” He runs a hand over his face. “I’m fairly certain Shouto would probably prefer to keep it that way.”

Katsuki watches the way Halfie colors everything on the page– Cartoon All Might is covered in every color under the sun, excited scribbles all over his costume, his hair – while he leaves every Endeavor picture completely blank.

Katsuki shakes his head.

“He needs to sleep,” he says, standing up. “You need to fucking sleep too.”

“Oh, I’m fine. I can stay over if you need the extra help–”

“Fuck off. You look like a goddamn zombie. Wouldn’t even be any help anyways.” Katsuki grabs all the crayons, and shoves them haphazardly back in the box. 

Deku smiles, dropping his posture a bit. “Right. Do you want me to come back in the morning? Eijirou and Ochacko said they’d be around at lunch time, so–”

“Do whatever you wanna do. I don’t give a fuck.”

“Okay..?” Deku says quietly, awkwardly standing up and placing Shouto back on the ground. “What’s wrong?”

Katuski rolls his eyes. “Nothing, alright? It’s fucking 10 o’clock and I want to go to bed.”

Deku looks down and to the side. Maybe it’s because of the current circumstances, but he immediately looks like he’s 12 years old again, bearing the brunt of Katsuki’s shitty fucking attitude. It makes something hurt deep in his chest for whatever stupid reason. 

Katsuki heaves a sigh, running an exasperated hand through his hair. “Sorry. Alright? I’m not trying to– to be a fucking asshole. I’m just– I feel like I’m fucking this up.”

Icyhot catches his eyes then, from where he’s standing awkwardly next to the table. He’s blinking all slow and tired, and he walks over to Katsuki and reaches his little hands up.

Katsuki can’t help but smirk, rolling his eyes again at the way even baby Shouto can read him like a damn book. He lifts the little gremlin up, and he wraps his arms around Katsuki’s neck.

“Are you sure about that?” Deku asks, and Katsuki would probably smack the smile off his freckled face if there weren’t children present.

“Fuck off–” Katsuki drawls. “Go home and get some actual sleep, you freak. If I see your face in a casualties list tomorrow I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

“Wouldn’t I already be dead? So then–”

“Deku, for fuck’s sake, get out of my apartment.”

“Alright, alright. Bye Shouto! Be good!” he says, finally making his way towards the damn door. “Goodnight, Kacchan.”

“Night, loser.”

Halfie was out like a light without much fuss. He did have a full day of hero-ing after all, before turning into a damn baby. It’s not like the guy has ever had an issue falling asleep, anyways – the lazy bastard has slept through dozens of alarms without even stirring. 

As Katsuki’s getting ready to go to bed himself, his phone buzzes from where it sits on the bathroom counter. He rolls his eyes at the name that pops up, and swipes to answer it.

“What, Hara.”

“Oh don’t give me ‘what Hara’, Bakugou. Why haven’t you been picking up your phone?”

“The hell is your problem?” Katsuki asks, walking to his bedroom to put on pajamas. “Do I look like I’m fucking on-call?”

“When your agent calls you, you should pick up the damn phone, is all I’m saying.”

“The fuck am I doing now, then? Jesus. Get on with it.”

Hara sighs like the dramatic bastard he is. “Why didn’t you tell me you have a fucking kid?”

Katsuki scowls. What the hell is he—

Oh. Oh shit.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, ‘fuck’ is right! I had to fucking grovel to a damn tabloid editor so she wouldn’t plaster your face all over the morning news feed. ‘Dynamight Secret Love Child!’ would’ve been the title. Can you believe that shit?”

Katsuki scrubs a hand over his face – there’s pictures, then. The paps probably got ‘em during their little outing earlier to buy clothes. He’d been so preoccupied with making sure Icyhot wasn’t recognized that he’d forgotten his own face was pretty fucking famous too.

“Who’s the mother? How do I know she won’t come after you in the press? Do you speak with her? How old is the kid? God– I can’t believe you kept this from me. I need to know this stuff, kid–”

“Hara– ” Katsuki snaps, and the man finally shuts the fuck up. “It’s Shouto, alright? Calm the fuck down.”

The line is dead quiet. So quiet that he has to check and make sure the call didn’t drop. 

“You had a kid with fucking Todoroki?!”

“What?! No, you moron! Jesus fucking christ–” Katsuki exclaims, banishing that thought to the shame corner in the back of his head as his face heats up. “The kid is Shouto, you colossal fucking asshole.”

The line falls silent again. 

“He got hit with a quirk,” Katsuki continues. “He’s a younger version of himself. It hasn’t even been like, four hours. So keep your fucking pants on, will you?”

“Okay. Alright. This is– this is good. That’s good. I’ll let the editor know that it’s Todoroki, that way she won’t focus on you, really–”

“The fuck you will!” Katsuki yells, trudging back to the bathroom and squeezing toothpaste onto his toothbrush. “You want all of Japan to know that a popular hero is suddenly a fucking baby, sitting in my apartment ready to be murdered?”

Hara sighs, like he knows Katsuki’s right. “Alright. Alright, I’ll– I’ll call Tanaka and see what she can do. Has he spoken to her about this?”

“Has the mute five year-old spoken to his hero agent?" Katsuki drawls, sarcasm dripping like his leaky faucet. "No, he fucking hasn’t.”

“Right. Shit–” he says, and Katsuki can imagine the way he runs a hand through his messy black hair that seems more gray every time he sees him. “Alright. I’ll– I’ll get in contact with her and figure something out.”

“Why else would I be fucking paying you?”

“Yeah, you’re welcome, Jackass. Jesus. No more outings with the kid until I figure this out, yeah?”

“Yeah whatever.” He walks back into his bedroom, turning off the lights. “Can I go to fucking bed now?”

Hara laughs. “You know, for as amazing you are as a hero, you sure can be a piece of work.”

Katsuki groans as he falls back into his bed. “You think you’re the first person to tell me that?”

“Goodnight, Bakugou.”

“G'night,” Katsuki says, hanging up immediately. “Dick.”

Hara’s a pain in the ass, but he’s worth it – Katsuki’s gone through a handful of agents in the short span of time that he’s been a pro, and none of them could hack it with him for more than a month or so. They’d bitch and whine about him being difficult– as if it’s fucking hard to make a hero as strong and successful as Katsuki fucking look good.

But maybe that’s why Hara’s stuck with him for this long. That guy’s a fucking asshole– but he’s good at his job and whatever Katsuki dishes, he sends it right back. He hasn’t had a media issue in months, and it’s all thanks to that stressed out bastard. He’s got the right connections that only come with experience, and his work ethic and attitude could rival Katsuki’s, despite his slight drinking problem.

But who the hell is Katsuki to judge? He’s handling it, and that’s what matters. 

He dozes off, thinking of the glass of whiskey he’ll share with Hara once all this shit is over and done with.

Saturdays are the only day of the week when Katsuki and Icyhot both have nothing on their schedules. It’s not intentional or anything – the thought of carving out time to spend with his annoying ass roommate that he sees almost every day already is almost laughable – it just happens. They wake up, Katsuki makes breakfast, and they spend the day getting groceries, going to the gym, doing chores – whatever needs to get done before the week starts up again.

Naturally, Katsuki gets ready on autopilot for that kind of day before he remembers that he’s on fucking babysitting duty.

He brushes his teeth and gets dressed as usual, and makes his way into Halfie’s room to wake his sleepy ass up.

But the bed is empty.

His navy bedding is sprawled this way and that, unmade and messy and fucking empty and where the fuck is he holy shit holy shit–

Katsuki swings open his wardrobe, dumps out his hamper, looks in the bathroom. But baby Icyhot is nowhere to be found. He thinks of what he said to Hara last night – how any damn villain would be itching to snatch him up when he’s this vulnerable; can he even use his quirk yet? He’d put up a fight wouldn’t he? Their apartment is on the fifth floor – no way someone would be able to get in the windows, right? There’s no sign of anyone coming in here, so–

Katsuki storms out of the room as his heart pounds in his ears, and he grabs his phone to dial Deku’s number as he hastily puts on his shoes.

“Come on, pick up you fucker–” he grumbles, fumbling with his laces in his panic as he squishes the phone between his shoulder and his ear.

It rings twice, before something in the corner of his eye suddenly catches his attention.

His TV is on. 

His fucking TV is on, playing some stupid cartoon that Katsuki’s never seen. And there’s a lump of blankets plopped right in front of it, approximately dumb-fucking-kid sized.

“Hello? ” Deku answers. “Kacchan? Is everything alright?”

Katsuki closes his eyes, and exhales a mixture of annoyance and relief. He stalks over to the ball of blankets and uncovers that red and white head. Icyhot looks up at his face and blinks a few times before turning back to the TV screen.

“Fucking stupid ass kid–” he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Forget it. I’m good.”

“What happened? Are you okay? Is Shouto–”

“Nothing. Shut up. I’m– we’re good. Shut up,” Katsuki stutters. He hangs up, fully expecting a barrage of confused text messages from Deku in the next 30 seconds, and turns to Shouto.

The kid is literally like, half a meter away from the TV screen. His eyes are wide and unblinking as he watches the cartoon with a weird look of wonder, like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Katsuki steps behind him, grabs him from under his arms, and scooches his butt backwards so that he’s not frying his fucking eyes from sitting so close. He scoots back to his original spot immediately, without even taking his eyes off the screen.

“You’re gonna melt your brain like that, dude,” Katsuki urges, “It’s like you’ve never watched fucking TV before.”

It only takes a moment or two more to realize – the Todorokis probably weren’t the type to let their kids watch fucking cartoons.

So fuck it – Katsuki leaves him be, as he gets breakfast ready. Every kid needs a little brain rot anyways. And if it keeps him occupied, who gives a damn.

The rest of the morning goes by pretty much like that; Icyhot sitting in a cocoon of blankets on the floor while Katsuki cooks, tidies up. He didn’t plan on doing laundry today, but after Halfie fucking sneezes at the breakfast table, scorching his shirt and half of Katsuki’s fucking eyebrow with his dumbass annoying fucking lame fire-hazard of a quirk , he gets to work on that, too.

Rest in pieces, paw print shirt. Katsuki’s been saying it for years – they really need to make a line of flame-resistant clothing that doesn’t cost a fortune.

Eventually it’s almost lunch time, and a knock on the apartment door reminds Katsuki of what Deku had mentioned yesterday.

“S’open,” Katsuki calls, as he finishes up dishes and walks towards the living room.

“Hey, dude!” Eijirou says, wrapping Katsuki in a quick, rough hug. “How’sit goin?”

“Oh my god, Deku wasn’t kidding!” Round Face squeals, as she spots Icyhot sitting at the counter. “He’s so cute I’m gonna die.”

“Oh yeah, he’s real cute until he fuckin’ lights your apartment on fire–” Katsuki grumbles. He turns to Icyhot. “You gonna come say hi, or what?”

The kid hops off the chair he was sitting on, and slowly walks over, half hiding himself behind the back of Katsuki’s legs. He looks like he did when he first met Katsuki – nervous, in a way that’s more than just typical kid shyness.

“Dang, I can’t believe there’s a quirk that can do this. Super manly of you to look after him, by the way,” Eijirou says, smiling in Katsuki’s direction. “Do you know how long it’ll last?”

Katsuki runs a hand through his hair. “Deku said ‘a couple days’, whatever the hell that means. He’s been like this since yesterday.”

“Hi, Shouto!” Round Face says, in a voice so sweet it could cause cavities. “My name’s Ochaco. It’s great to meet you!”

Icyhot just blinks at her. Then he looks up at Katsuki, grabbing a fistful of his pant leg.

“Aw he’s shy!” Eijirou says, squatting down right in front of Halfie too. “What’s up little man?”

Icyhot starts to look really nervous, then. His posture is ramrod straight as he takes a small step backwards, and his little face drains quickly of all color. Alarms start blaring in Katsuki’s head for some reason, right before–

Ei steps towards him, always so fucking friendly and boisterous. “How ‘bout a high five?”

He raises his muscled arm above Icyhot’s head, smiling expectantly. But the smile falls away quickly as he watches Halfie flinch, putting his hands up to cover his head with fear so visceral that he falls completely backwards, cowering on the floor with his eyes clenched shut.

It feels like Katsuki’s heart falls all the way out of his body, as a shocked silence stretches between the four of them for much too long.

“I–” Eijirou says, and Katsuki doesn’t miss the way his eyes get wide and glassy. He stands up awkwardly, clasping his hands in front of him as his posture shrinks down. “I didn’t– I didn’t mean to scare him, I’m so sorry–”

“It’s– it’s not you, Ei,” Katsuki urges, as he squats next to Shouto and scoops him up in his arms. “S’alright, Halfie. You’re good. This is Eijirou. He’s nice, yeah?”

Icyhot’s little body is vibrating as he clings to Katsuki, refusing to even look in Ei’s direction. Eijirou is a person who wouldn’t hurt a fly. Hell, Katsuki used to yell at him for wasting time trying not to step on the earthworms that littered the sidewalk on rainy days at UA. He’s the chivalrous type – caring and genuine to absolutely everyone and everything.

But as Katsuki inspects his best friend who looks close to tears, Halfie’s reaction starts to make a little more sense.

He’s tall. And broad. With spiky red hair, and a loud voice.

“I’m sure you just startled him, Kiri,” Round Face offers, but her voice is much sadder than it was a minute ago. “I mean, it’s Todoroki. He might not know what a high five is, right?”

“He sure as hell doesn’t,” Katsuki agrees. “But it, uh… probably has more to do with the fact that you– kinda look like his old man.”

Ei just blinks at that, his bright irises shifting between Katsuki and Shouto, who might as well be part koala at this point. 

“Oh,” he says, his voice shaking despite how hard he’s trying to swallow down how upset he is. He exhales, and looks at the floor. “I–uh, I don’t know what to say.”

“S’not your fault, alright? He’s just– you know,” Katsuki tries, with an arbitrary hand gesture punctuating the end of his sentence. “He’s a damn Todoroki.”

Shouto’s close friends know about his family shit. To what extent, Katsuki’s not sure. But based on the way Round Face and Eijirou are looking at Halfie with pitiful frowns on their faces, it’s safe to assume they know the major details at least.

Katsuki feels like he maybe should’ve seen this coming, and saved both of these fuckers from a lot of heartache.

Ei’s face suddenly turns determined, and he swings his backpack down one arm to dig through it. After a moment of searching, he finds what he’s looking for, and walks next to Katsuki, facing Icyhot.

“Shouto, I have something for you,” he says, his voice much quieter and higher pitched than it was. “Hope this earns me some points, buddy.”

Icyhot looks up so that his face is no longer jammed into Katsuki’s shoulder. His eyes widen slightly when he looks at the little stuffed cat that Eijirou is holding in front of him.

The frown on Round Face dissipates, being replaced by that bubbly smile again. “Do you just carry that around in your bag?” she giggles.

“I snagged it for him after work yesterday,” he answers, as Halfie slowly takes the cat out of his hands, staring at it like it’s the fucking Hope Diamond or something. “Kinda figured kid-Todoroki would probably like that sorta thing, you know?”

“What are you, Mother Teresa?” Katsuki jeers, rolling his eyes as a fond smile spreads across his face. 

Eijirou looks bashful, but the toothy grin on his face looks much better than the hurt that was there before. “I don’t know, I just– I really like kids, dude.”

Icyhot squirms in Katsuki’s arms so he sets him down on the ground. He looks up at Ei, petting the stuffed cat that’s no bigger than a coffee mug. The man squats down again, to get on his level.

“What d’you think? He’s kinda cute, right?” he says, gently taking the stuffed cat back in his hands and showing it to Shouto. “He looks like you!”

Icyhot stares at Eijirou, at the cat. The thing is all white, with one orange patch of fur surrounding one of its eyes.

It’s fucking embarassing – the way Katsuki absolutely fucking melts when a smile slowly spreads on Icyhot’s dumb little face. Disgusting. The kid steps closer, slowly reaching an inquisitive hand out to touch the scar on Eijirou’s eye.

Ei chuckles. “Guess I kinda look like him too, huh? We match!” 

He scoops Icyhot up in his arms, and the kid just chills there, clutching the cat in his hands as he stares at Eijirou’s face. The guy eats it up though, blabbing on about whatever as he walks around Katsuki’s apartment with him, talking in baby voice.

“Damn, he’s good at this,” Round Face says, sliding next to Katsuki as they watch in wonder. 

Katsuki heaves a breath. “Yeah, he fuckin’ is.”

“You okay?”

Katsuki blinks at that, and turns to look at her. She’s inspecting him, like she’s waiting to see if she agrees with his answer or not.

“Shut up. I’m fine,” Katsuki decides.

“Deku warned us that he might be a little– skittish, you know. We all know Shouto, and how he is. He’ll be back to normal in no time,” she says kindly. 

He scrubs a hand over his face. “Yeah, yeah. I just– it’s just fuckin’ weird. We met him when he was already a damn machine, and seeing him like this is just– I don’t know. Weird.”

“True,” she concedes. “But I think 5 year-old Todoroki is pretty much what I’d expect, don’t you think? Quiet, cute, and afraid.”

Quiet, cute and afraid. 

It hits him again as he watches Icyhot and Kirishima color from across the room – that clenching feeling in his chest. A mixture of pity and reverence, anger and admiration. The feeling of wanting to tear the seams of hero society to get revenge for a childhood lost to cruelty, knowing full well that the adult human who was subjected to it would fight him if he tried.

It’s Shouto, after all– a walking contradiction, a god damn mystery, living proof of his own brand of insane resilience that he never should have had to rely on in the first place.

Katsuki shakes his head, as a handful of conflicting emotions go to war inside it, some of them embarrassingly mushy.

“I gotta get lunch goin’ for him,” Katsuki says, exhaling. “You fuckers wanna eat?”

Round Face smiles warm and wide at his face. “Sounds good to me.”

Katsuki gets to work in the kitchen, and as the rest of his apartment is filled with friendly voices and childish giggles, he counts himself lucky to have these assholes in his life.

The rest of the day goes by fine. Icyhot was pretty tuckered out by dinner time, so by 8:30pm the little fucker was asleep, and Katsuki had some time to himself.

The lights of the city shine through his fifth floor windows. This area isn’t really built up too much, so the view from his bedroom is pretty nice – the park with that giant ass fountain is visible from a few blocks away, and the skyscrapers in the distance contribute to a pretty nice skyline that spreads all the way across his large windows. 

The tea that he brewed an hour or two ago is left cold and untouched on his desk, as he’s way too engrossed in his notepad. Lately he’s been trying to study more about thermodynamics and explosives engineering. On the news the other day, there had been a fight at a chemical processing plant – one with vats of various chemicals everywhere on the battlefield. And it got Katsuki thinking– 

He should probably know what’s explosive, and what’s not. 

Imagine getting blown to bits by your own stupidity because you haven’t thought about chemistry since fucking high school. Better yet, imagine the fucking awesome shit he could do if he used the chemicals to his advantage.

So that’s been his project as of late – reading some random college textbook that he picked up at the bookstore, and trying to jot down any prudent information that may help him kick more ass in the long run. You can’t be the best hero if you’re not working on your shit, dammit.

He’s so engrossed in the damn book and the notes he’s taking, daydreaming about different color explosions and dope shit like that – that the sound of his bedroom door opening makes him jolt.

He snaps his head around to look, and his reading glasses almost fly off his damn face. 

The door is only barely open, and Katsuki can see one little eye peering in, just under the doorknob.

“Jesus, Icyhot,” Katsuki exhales. “Scared the shit out of me.”

He taps his phone to check the time – 10:42pm.

Shaking his head, he stands up from his desk to walk over. “The hell are you doin’ awake this late?”

He gently opens the door wider, and the kid is just standing there like he always does. But as Katsuki looks a little closer, he notices– 

He’s crying.

Well– he’s sort of crying. There’s no sobbing, no sound or movement as he stands there. His face is just freakishly blank, yet completely covered in tears that continue to leak steadily down his cheeks. Those wide, watery eyes are so fucking sad as the dim orange light from Katsuki’s desk lamp reflects off of them.

Katsuki would say that it’s completely fucking creepy, if his chest wasn’t aching at the sight of it.

The familiar sight of it.

“Fucking– dammit,” Katsuki breathes, as he scrubs a hand over his face. He squats down to get on his level, and does what he always does when adult Icyhot comes into his room looking like this, too.

He wraps his arms around Halfie’s tiny little frame, holding the back of his head. “S’just a dream, Shou. You’re okay.”

The little bastard is shaking like a leaf in his arms, and he grabs fistfulls of Katsuki’s shirt as he buries his gross, snotty little face into his shoulder.

It’s not like it happens often, honestly – the nightmare shit. Once every six months, tops. It took a little bit for Katsuki to figure out what the fuck to do when the most stoic, serious, beefcake of a fucking dude comes into his room at night with tears in his eyes. After all, Katsuki’s obviously not a touchy-feely person, and Icyhot is not someone who takes kindly to coddling. But even though neither of them are inclined to get fucking mushy about their feelings or whatever, there’s a mutual understanding there. They keep to themselves, knowing without a doubt that they can rely on each other if needed, however infrequently that need may arise.

And on the occasions when Katsuki comes home from a bad day, pissed off and ready to sulk in his room for the entire night, and he finds a hot cup of his favorite tea sitting on his nightstand waiting for him – he can’t help but trust that Icyhot would do the same for him, if the roles were reversed.

After almost three years of living together, Katsuki knows Shouto, whether he likes it or not. And he’s learned by now that when his roommate is stuck in his own head, a distraction of some kind always works to drag him back to reality. It’s hard to imagine his younger self would be much different. 

Katsuki picks him up, and slowly walks over to the window.

“You see that giant tree over there? Next to that little shop?” He asks quietly, pointing through the glass with his free hand. “You somehow lit one of the branches on fire last year while you and I were arguing about some dumb shit. It was an accident, but the old lady across the street wanted you fuckin’ dead.”

Icyhot lifts his head finally, looking in the direction that Katsuki’s pointing. He’s all sniffly as he blinks the tears out of his eyes to see better.

“And that intersection right there? Chestnut and 30th– that’s where you froze some giant asshole absolutely solid in like, two fucking seconds in our rookie year. The press lost their fucking mind about it. You walked around all smug and shit for the next week.”

Icyhot’s staring out the window with wide eyes. He leans his head on Katsuki’s chest as he does it, heaving a big breath as his previously shaking body stills.

Katsuki walks to the other window, and points down.

“Right down there?” he says, smirking. “Your lightweight ass got way too drunk at Ponytail’s birthday party last week, and you barfed in those bushes on our way home.”

He giggles against Katsuki’s chest, and the wet, bubbly sound of it rumbles through his entire body.

“Yeah, I thought it was pretty funny too. Sloppy bastard,” Katsuki smiles. 

Icyhot’s leaning back now, staring owlishly at Katsuki’s face. He slowly reaches out, and takes Katsuki’s glasses off, inspecting them like they’re some ancient artifact and not a bullshit pair that Katsuki bought from the corner store in a rage when Tape Arms made fun of him for squinting at a dinner menu a couple months ago.

He holds the glasses in one fist, and with the other hand, he reaches out and touches Katsuki’s eyebrow – the one that got fucking halfway cooked today. He smiles – that little fucking sheisty bullshit smile that Shouto does when he thinks he’s funny.

Katsuki rolls his eyes, and can’t help but laugh. “Oh my god, fuck you,” he says tossing the gremlin over his shoulder as his little giggle fills up the room. “I hate you, you bastard.”

He tosses the kid on his bed unceremoniously. “I’m beating your ass when you turn normal, I swear to fucking god.”

The little asshole rubs both fists in his eyes, and yawns. He has the fucking audacity to scoot up to the head of Katsuki’s bed, and get under the covers like he fucking owns the place.

“Nope, no. No snotty brats in my bed. Get out.” Katsuki orders, standing with his hands on his hips, and pointing towards the door.

Icyhot just blinks up at him, each one getting slower and slower. He snuggles in tighter and tosses Katsuki the biggest fucking puppy-dog pout the world has ever fucking seen.

“I mean it, Icyhot. Get the fuck outta my bed, you little freak.”

He turns over to face away from Katsuki, snuggling into the duvet even further, the stubborn asshole.

Katsuki heaves an exhale. His will to fight is fading almost as fast as Icyhot’s will to stay awake.

He steps around to the other side of his bed, pulling back the covers. “If you piss in my bed, I’m kicking you off the lease. Got it?”

The back of that candy-cane head doesn’t even stir. Katsuki rolls his eyes, more than a little annoyed that he lost an argument to a fucking kindergartener, and turns off the bedside lamp.

The following morning, Katsuki wakes up slowly to the soft sounds of the city below. Before he’s even completely conscious, he knows he slept well – there’s sunlight streaming in through his windows, and it’s rare that he’s not up before sunrise. He slowly blinks his eyes open, and sits up.

The space next to him on his bed is unmade and wrinkled – a reminder that mini-Icyhot won him over last night. Little bastard. He’s probably out in the living room watching cartoons already, and Katsuki slowly makes his way out of his bedroom to find him.

He pads down his short hallway into the main living space, stopping dead when he sees Icyhot sitting in the recliner by the window, reading.

Adult Icyhot. 

Big, pale, quiet Icyhot with those high cheekbones that were previously hidden by baby fat and that sleep-tousled head of hair. There’s steam rising up into the light from the mug next to him, and as he looks up from his book to meet Katsuki’s eyes, the sun shines on his half-smiling face.

“Good morning,” he says.

Something in Katsuki’s brain fucking short-circuits, then, though he’s not sure why. But there’s no denying it when his body moves on its own accord, crossing the room in just a few quick strides and wrapping his arms tightly around Icyhot before he can even think to stop himself.

Halfie tentatively hugs back after a moment, and they just sit there for a little while: Katsuki, awkwardly bent over, and Shouto, awkwardly reaching up from his chair. 

Katsuki breaks the hug first, standing up as heat swirls in his cheeks. He rubs a hand on the back of his neck. 

“G’morning.”

Shouto inspects him. “What was that for?”

Katsuki shrugs, and looks away. “S’nice to hear your voice again.”

It tumbles out of his mouth before he can think to stop it. Icyhot’s eyebrows raise slightly, as he continues staring up at Katsuki with now adult Bambi eyes, somehow. It looks like he decides on something after a moment of silence, and he speaks again in that deep voice that absolutely should not be making Katsuki’s heartbeat quicken, dammit. 

“You’re still drunk, then.”

Katsuki scowls, assuming he misheard. His hearing’s never been great, anyways. 

"What? ”

“We were out drinking last night, right?”

Katsuki just blinks, massively confused. “What? No, we– why the fuck would you think that?”

“I woke up almost naked in your bed, and I don’t remember anything from last night,” he says calmly. “So obviously I was drunk, and I figured the only way you’d let me sleep with you is if you were drunk, too.”

Now, Katsuki’s always known that Shouto was lowkey kind of an idiot. Yeah, he’s smart as a whip on the battlefield and did ridiculously well in school, but outside of those settings, he can be dumb as shit. 

For one thing, Katsuki doesn’t get drunk. Ever. Never has, never will. Yeah, he’ll have the occasional drink when his friends bust his balls for being “boring” while they’re all out together, but never more than one. He hates feeling out of control, and with a quirk like his, being inebriated is a recipe for disaster.

Shouto knows this. Intimately well. Or he should, considering how many times Katsuki has lugged his drunk ass back to their apartment. So however he came to that conclusion, it’s safe to assume that his two fucking brain cells weren’t part of the process.

Katsuki’s face burns red-hot regardless, as Icyhot gets dangerously close to implying something that makes Katsuki’s stomach flip in an unpleasant way.

“We weren’t drunk, you fucking idiot. And it– we didn’t do anything last night, if that’s what you’re– what you’re thinking so just– get your mind out of the fucking gutter because I wouldn’t do that–”

“I know,” he interrupts, though his voice is soft and there’s pink dusting his pale cheeks, all of a sudden. “I wasn’t thinking that. I trust you, Katsuki.”

He says it so gently but so sure, looking right at Katsuki’s face. The weight of those words settle onto Katsuki’s shoulders – comfortable and grounding, like the fiery defensiveness that was threatening to take hold was smothered by benevolent, flame-resistant hands.

“I woke up in my roommate’s bed, with torn fabric hanging off of me. I’m just confused, that’s all,” he continues, calmly taking a sip of his tea.

And Katsuki just– just looks hard at Halfie, then.

Where the hell does this asshole get off being so damn understanding despite the fucking life that he’s lived. Ending up the way that he is – so willing to assume positive intent, so calm and level-headed about everything – it’s fucking unreal. The guy had more baggage than a goddamn international airport before he could even spell his own name, for fuck’s sake. It’s a miracle he’s not some fucking lunatic burning down the whole city right now. 

Katsuki’s about 99% sure that if he’d gone through half the shit this beautiful idiot lived with for 15 years, he’d be in jail by now. Or dead. Or just– fucking insane, maybe.

But Halfie made it out. Not completely in one piece, but– he made it out. And Katsuki can’t help but stand there and stare at the guy a little bit in awe, thinking of how much strength and fucking grace it must have taken to crawl his way out of hell without becoming a demon himself.

That pale face is illuminated in the bright morning sun as he sits there, balled up in the chair under a white blanket despite his long ass legs.

All he needs is a damn halo – stupid perfect bastard.

Katsuki shuts his eyes and shakes his head, trying hard to ignore the pulling sensation in his chest. He exhales heavily.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

Icyhot narrows his eyes, looking off somewhere in the mid-distance. He answers after a short pause.

“Fighting. It was at a bank, I think? Midoriya was there.”

Katsuki nods. He kinda figured this would happen, given the nature of how fucking annoying that stupid ass quirk is. He scrubs a hand over his face.

“Tell ya what,” Katsuki says, yanking Halfie’s arm to stand him up. “I’ll tell you all the bullshit of the last few days over breakfast.”

He lowers his brows, watching Katsuki slip on his shoes. “Few days? ”

“Your dumb ass got hit by a quirk during that fight. That was Friday. It’s Sunday.”

Icyhot blinks. His stupid confused face is horribly– cute, as if he’s still his lame five year-old self. Disgusting, really. “What kind of quirk? Memory loss?”

Katsuki exhales. “Age regression.”

“....Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Halfie breathes in, out in the awkward silence. “Well, I can’t imagine my teenage self was a particularly pleasant roommate.”

“Younger,” Katsuki adds, shaking his head. “You were like– five, six, tops.”

His eyes widen a little at that. “Oh. I’m– uh, I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

“S’whatever,” Katsuki shrugs. It’s definitely not whatever, but– “You were a pretty easy kid. Didn’t even talk, for fuck’s sake.”

He hums, nodding. “My sister says I stopped talking altogether after, uh–” he nonchalantly gestures towards his face, his scar. “Didn’t start back up again for a year or two.”

Katsuki doesn’t know what to fucking say after that. He swallows, grimacing as he stares at the floor. The silence swells between them until Icyhot steps slightly closer, placing a cold hand on Katsuki’s arm. He looks up to meet those mismatched eyes.

“Sorry,” he blurts, unsure of the last time he’s ever said that word to Halfie. Maybe he should say it more often.

“Katsuki,” Icyhot responds softly. “It’s fine. Honestly. I appreciate you looking after me.”

This fucker has no right to be so damn sweet. What the fuck.

Katsuki rolls his eyes, and grabs his keys as his face heats up. “Whatever. I’m starving, let’s go.”

Icyhot blinks. “We’re going out?”

“That’s right, and you’re paying,” Katsuki smirks. “I ain’t no free nanny.”

He narrows his eyes at that, the stupid pretty bastard. “I thought buying breakfast was for ‘losers who can’t cook for shit’” he says plainly, quoting something Katsuki may have yelled in his face a couple weeks ago. Who knows. “...Are you sure you’re not drunk?”

“Yes, you fucking– are you coming or not?!” Katsuki snaps, grabbing the doorknob and grumbling to himself. “Starting to wish I had silent Icyhot back, for fuck’s sake–”

“What?”

“Nothing. Shut up.” They step into the hallway, and Katuski locks the door with one arm and elbows Halfie’s side with the other, thinking of the most expensive breakfast options within walking distance to indulge in. After all, he’s gonna get his money’s worth on the Todoroki credit card.

“What is it, kid.”

“Jesus. Good morning to you too, grumpy bastard. Stay out too late again? You sound like shit.”

“Yeah, no thanks to you. Tanaka and I have been trying to form an angle on this thing all fucking night. I mean I just don’t think there’s a way to avoid it, Bakugou. Someone’s gonna find out about it eventually, and–”

“Well go the fuck to sleep, then, because he’s back to normal.”

The line falls silent. Hara’s always been a fan of dramatic pauses.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Dead serious,” Katsuki smirks, looking back at the tall, definitely 25 year-old Icyhot squatting down to pet some stray cat on the sidewalk as they walk back from breakfast. “He changed back some time this morning.”

The guy exhales like he was just spared from death row. “Well thank fucking god.”

“Yeah. I got another heads-up for you, though.”

“God– can’t I ever catch a break with you?”

Katsuki smiles and rolls his eyes, enjoying the back and forth. “Oh, cry me a fucking river, you old asshole. Must be so damn hard to manage the most popular hero in the city, for fuck’s sake.”

He groans through the phone so loudly that Icyhot overhears, and sends a puzzled look his way.

“Well? Spit it out then, since you insist on ruining my day even more.”

Katsuki glances at Icyhot as he catches up. “Paps saw me and Shou out to breakfast. They got pictures.”

He’s silent once again. Icyhot looks like he wants to say something, so Katsuki puts it on speaker.

“They will probably think we’re a couple,” Halfie says into the phone.

“Thank you for that, Todoroki, I’m well aware of what it looks like to the press,” Hara snaps. And Katsuki can’t help but snort – Icyhot, the only person in the world immune to sass, is talking to the snippiest fucker in the world. Honestly hilarious. 

“It’s not the end of the world,” he continues. “Tanaka’s got a good relationship with some of the major tabloid journalists, she’ll probably be able to keep them from runnin’ with the photos. Besides, people already know you two were classmates. Heroes eating breakfast together is not exactly newsworthy.”

Halfie blinks. “Katsuki was holding my hand, though.”

“Shut the fuck up, Icyhot.”

“What? You were.”

“God dammit– they saw that, didn’t they? Fuck.”

“My dumbass idiot roommate subjected me to all of his stupid god damn baby trauma for the last two days!” Katsuki yells, as the tips of his ears burn. “Fucking sue me for being nice about it. God –”

Icyhot grabs the phone out of Katsuki’s hand. “Hara?”

“What, Todoroki.”

“Is Tanaka with you?”

“No. Contrary to what you two might think, we have lives outside of dealing with you two idiots.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “I hate this fucker–”

“When you see her next, tell her I want the photos to be given to the media.”

“What?”

“WHAT?” Katsuki echoes, staring at the hot and cold idiot.

“My father will see it,” he says lightly. “It’ll be funny. He hates Katsuki.”

Hara’s gone quiet again, and Halfie’s just standing there with that scheming ass smile on his face.

Katsuki’s mouth starts to curl upwards. Vengeful Icyhot doesn’t come around often, but when he does–

“You two are like a god damn bad idea factory. I’m not gonna do that, kid,” Hara huffs, as the phone crackles with shuffling papers. “Like I said, just keep your heads down and maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Something warm and static-y and maybe a little insane rises in Katsuki’s chest, as he stares at that pale face.

“Do it, Hara.”

“What the– am I speaking fucking Turkish right now?!” 

“I’m the one paying you, aren’t I? You heard Halfie. Run that shit,” Katsuki grins. “Maybe the paps will catch Endeavor spitting out his morning coffee as he watches the news.”

Icyhot laughs. It sounds so much like his younger self, and that dumb little giggle makes Katsuki even more sure that any plan that’ll ruin Endeavor’s day is a fucking good one.

A loud, dramatic, exasperated sigh crackles through the phone. “I hate you both, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki jeers, grabbing Halfie’s hand again because he fucking– wants to, and that bright beautiful smile that spreads across Icyhot’s face is worth any heat he gets from his damn agent. “I owe you a drink, I know.”

“Tanaka and I are owed at least three drinks each. And a vacation.”

“Katsuki can babysit the kids while you’re out. He’s great with children, apparently.” Icyhot says, shooting Katsuki a sarcastic look.

He rolls his eyes. “Brat.”

“Stop flirting in public,” Hara snaps, though Katsuki can hear some amusement there, even as the line falls dead with a uniquely bitchy clicking sound that only Hara could pull off.

Halfie squeezes his hand. “Yeah, Katsuki. Stop flirting in public.” 

He can’t help but smile – the childish bastard. They start walking towards the apartment again, and Katsuki focuses hard on keeping his hand from sparking against that cold palm.

“Shut the fuck up, Icyhot.”