Work Text:
Sometimes, Aizawa would have the fleeting thought that teaching was worth the hassle.
Sometimes, the kids would miraculously manage not to very nearly kill themselves while trying to rescue people or, more impressively, while playing board games at the dorms. Sometimes, they would almost make him proud.
And then, other times, times like right now, he gets the immeasurable joy of overhearing Kaminari whisper, “Wow, Todoroki must be pretty under the weather, right? He’s been throwing up every single morning this past week.”
Never a thankless day, educating the youth.
Todoroki has been throwing up in the mornings.
Todoroki, who is an omega.
Todoroki, who has been holding hands and playing footsie under the table with Bakugou around the dorms ever since the start of second year.
Todoroki, who—
Who, apparently, is going to do what those nomus back then failed to and send Aizawa to an early grave.
Although, he wouldn’t be the sole culprit.
Aizawa closes his eyes, takes a deep, fortifying breath, and he marches up to Bakugou. And then he smacks him upside the head.
“Ow,” Bakugou hisses. “What was that for?”
Aizawa’s mouth purses into a thin line. “Take a guess,” he says. “It concerns your extracurricular activities.”
Bakugou’s eyes narrow. “Is this about half ‘n half?” he asks, warmth crawling up his neck until he’s gone red in the face too. “I brought him chicken soup, okay? I know it was past curfew, but he’s been sick, and you know damn well how stubborn he is, and then he wanted to cuddle, so I—”
“Ah, yes,” Aizawa interrupts. “We’re probably dealing with the direct consequences of your cuddling.”
Bakugou blinks. “What—?” he says. “I really don’t—I’m not lying. Halfie’s been so moody lately, even if I wanted to—you know. So we cuddled. It’s nice, anyway. He always purrs.”
Right. Aizawa is sure all the purring and the cuddling and the late-night chicken soup deliveries got Todoroki pregnant. Which there might be a chance that he isn’t, you know, the same way there’s a chance the sun might rise in the west just for tomorrow, and then he won’t have to make very uncomfortable, very awkward calls to the Bakugous and Todoroki Rei. But, in his experience, God is not merciful like that. Not to him.
Aizawa pinches the bridge of his nose. “Did your parents teach you where pups come from?” he asks. “Or are your high life science grades deceiving?”
“I—sensei,” Bakugou hisses. “I know how—we’ve been careful, okay? Well, uh, mostly?”
And mostly will probably turn him into a godfather or some such. Todoroki is sentimental like that. He can feel a headache coming on.
“You’re a smart kid,” Aizawa tells him. “Tell me, what’s the most probable reason for an omega to throw up every single day in the morning? Did your chicken soup help at all?”
“He ate it,” Bakugou says. “I had to feed him, because he’s a spoiled little princess. But he did eat it. And then, when he woke up the next morning, he threw it all up again, and I sat there and rubbed his back and told him to go see Recovery Girl, but—oh.”
“Yes,” Aizawa says. “Oh.”
“Well,” Bakugou says, somehow managing to go even redder in the face. “I’m eighteen already, and graduation isn’t that far, and we could—”
“Todoroki is seventeen,” Aizawa interrupts. “Does he know where pups come from?”
“He asks for it,” Bakugou huffs, because God is neither kind nor merciful. “Do you know how hard it is to have to listen to your omega ask for that shi—that stuff, and you can’t give it to him, because one of you has to be fucking responsible? And he’s all loopy from his heat, so he’s obviously not thinking about his responsibilities, and that means I have to, and—and he’s mine, anyway. So why is it so bad, huh? I’m gonna take care of him, sensei. I promise I will.”
His voice gets all quiet by the end, steady and filled with resolve, and Aizawa realizes that the corner of the training gym where everyone else has gone suspiciously quiet might not be the best place to have the rest of this conversation.
“Is Todoroki still in his dorm?” he asks with a sigh.
Bakugou nods. “Yeah,” he says. “He roped more cold soba out of me, the brat. Kept going on and on about how I couldn’t possibly deny him in his convalescent state.”
Despite himself, the corner of Aizawa’s mouth twitches. A few more months, and he could have just been one more wedding guest happy for the lovely couple. But no. He gets to be the concerned, responsible adult in charge of two teenagers with hormones running rampant instead.
“You do know,” he says, “that U.A. spends a fortune on those family planning seminars each year? If they were this useless, I might as well have asked for a personal raise to cover emotional damages instead.”
Bakugou, at least, has the decency to look mildly embarrassed.
...
The scent hits him the second they step into Todoroki’s dorm room. Strong like someone smashed a bottle of strawberry scented perfume on the ground. Sweeter and fuller and unmistakably different. Aizawa sniffs the air. Sharper, he realizes. Like a campfire. Like Bakugou.
Well, he supposes the sun isn’t rising west tomorrow after all.
Aizawa smacks him again. “Can’t you smell it?” he asks. “I’m a beta, and I can tell.”
Bakugou blinks. “What?” he says. “Halfie always smells like this around me.”
Aizawa’s temples throb.
“Um,” Todoroki pipes up. “Sensei, is everything okay?”
“Depends,” Aizawa says. “How do you feel about peeing on a stick?”
Todoroki’s mouth parts. He closes it. Opens it again. Closes it. Opens it. Closes it once more. Eventually, he says, “But the condom only broke one time? How is that fair?” and then his eyes well up with tears, and he bursts out crying, just like that, hiccupping and wiping at his face with the sleeves of his pajama top, and Bakugou tries to rush to his side, but Aizawa grabs him by the back of his shirt and holds him there.
“It’s too early for twins,” he says. “Okay, loverboy?”
“I’m pretty sure, that’s, like, very medically improbable,” Todoroki says, sniffling. “I know. Momo and I watched that documentary together.”
“Well,” Aizawa says, “maybe you should have spent more time watching documentaries and less time alone in your dorm with an interested alpha, and then we wouldn’t be in this situation.”
Todoroki lets out a little whine. “Sensei?” he says, his eyes wide and still a little wet. “Are you mad?”
Aizawa sighs. He supposes it can’t be helped. “You have options,” he says. “You’re both young, and you’re probably not that far along, considering morning sickness is an early symptom, and if you don’t want to terminate, there’s always adoption—”
Todoroki bites at the inside of his cheek. “I want to have it,” he says. “Um, him? Her? I hope it’s a girl. Pink baby clothes are really cute.”
Pink baby clothes.
Aizawa is going gray as they speak, and Todoroki is busy contemplating the aesthetic merits of pink baby clothes.
“This is a serious matter—”
“I know,” Todoroki says. “I know it’s serious, okay? I just—I’ll be eighteen in January, and Katsuki and I were going to move in together, and I’m not—I’ve never been on suppressants, because I presented so late, and the side effect list was really scary, so I figured—you know. Once we started living together, we might as well try. I want to. I know we’re young, but if Katsuki is going to be there too, I want to do it. With him.”
“Damn right,” Bakugou says, the scent of a pleased alpha radiating off him. “I’ll take care of you and our pup.”
Aizawa looks up at the ceiling for strength. What is it that the kids say? Right in front of his salad? Hell, he should probably go get Todoroki a salad. Vitamins? Nutrition for the baby? That’s necessary, right? He should talk to Recovery Girl about pre-natal care. He should—
“You’re both kids,” Aizawa says. “I know you’ve been through more than you should have, but you’re both—”
“Sensei,” Todoroki says softly. “I love him.”
And that’s that, apparently.
They’re in love, and they’re going to get mated and have pups and live happily ever after. Except they’re doing it a little out of order. And, at least for now, that’s Aizawa’s problem.
“I’m going to have to call your mothers,” Aizawa says. “I hope you realize that.”
“Shit,” Bakugou says. “My old hag is going to kill me. And then she’ll take Shouto out for ice cream, probably.”
Todoroki giggles. “She wouldn’t kill you,” he says. “She knows I like you.”
“Sure,” Aizawa says. “I think I'll be going to make those calls now. Please don’t bite him while I’m gone, okay?”
Bakugou looks affronted. “I can hold out,” he says. “What do you take me for?”
Aizawa bites his tongue so he won’t spit out the knothead who got an underage omega pregnant on my watch. They’re in love, at least. The’ll be disgustingly happy and make a small fortune on joint public appearances and hero merch.
And, who knows, Endeavor might pop a blood vessel. Small mercies. Maybe there is a benevolent God after all.
“Um,” Todoroki pipes up, just as Aizawa makes to leave. “Do you want to be the godfather, sensei? Since we put you through all this? I can’t think of anyone better than you for it.”
Actually—
The God thing seems debatable, still.
But, if nothing else, he can definitely ask for a raise.