(Now) I'm a Beliver- ShinBaku

I'm in love

Amazingly, it's not Yamada who bursts into tears when the door opens. It's Aizawa. As soon as he spots the mating bites, before he can even get his arms open to hug Hitoshi, he gasps, turning away with a hand over his mouth.

"Sho? What is it baby- oh. Oh my-"

Yamada's face hardens, to Hitoshi's complete shock. He eyes Katsuki with vengeance burning in his green eyes, and hisses, "you better not hurt my boy-"

Katsuki sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets, annoyance trickling over the link. "I won't hurt him, Jesus," he says snidely. Then he adds, "unless he wants me to- ow babe that was my foot- ow, ow, okay- I mean uh, yes, sensei."

Thankfully, Yamada studiously ignores Katsuki, even as he mutters, 'there, fucking happy?'

Aizawa ushers them inside once he's wiped off his tears and hugged both of them, to Katsuki's apparent surprise. He leads them to the table, where there's home cooked food.

Hitoshi points, his hand shaking slightly, "w-where the fuck did you get that?"

Yamada cackles, "we uh... Might have commissioned the number one heros mother. We heard she's a good cook and well... You said it was a special occasion." Then he stops and grumbles, "just not what kind but..."

Awkward silence fills the dining room.

Aizawa claps his hands, "drinks."

He shuffles off toward the kitchen.

Hitoshi decides to save Katsuki from Yamada's death stare and asks, "where's Eri?"

"At a friend's house!" Yamada says, his face lighting up. They settle in at the table as Yamada rambles first about how Eri is doing, and then his radio show.

Aizawa brings back a bottle of champagne. "For the special occasion," he explains, winking. Or, well. With just the one eye it's more like blinking, but. Hitoshi understands the intent.

Aizawa cracks the bottle open with a loud pop! and pours them each a glass. He holds up his own, then clears his throat, seeming to think for a moment.

"To my son. And... My son in law," he says, raising his glass toward each of them respectfully.

'Sort of,' Yamada mutters.

Katsuki goes still beside him. Hitoshi pretends, for his sake, not to notice Katsuki's roaring emotions over the link or the way he not-so-subtly wipes under his eyes.

He does slide a hand onto his knee under the table. Katsuki squeezes his wrist in return.

The food is delicious, as expected. Yamada clears their plates for them when they finish, then drags Katsuki into the kitchen by his ear kicking and screaming to help him with 'dishes.'

Hitoshi watches them go with a fond smile.

"You still smoke, kid?" Aizawa asks, holding up a wrinkled pack of cigs.

"Nah, quit a while ago," Hitoshi sighs.

Aizawa nods, muttering, "good, good," stuffing the cigs back in his pocket. "Weed, though?"

Hitoshi smiles.

**

Aizawa takes a long pull off the joint, the end of it lighting up cherry red and orange, dropping tiny bits of ash onto the railing. He breathes it out, the smoke curling off into the night.

Hitoshi eyes him as he rubs tiredly at his face.

He passes the joint to Hitoshi, who takes a long pull, letting the smoke out his nose.