Chapter Text
[Then]
Hizashi felt a shadow fall over him, and he looked up to see his producer standing in the doorway. She wore a sharp grin—typical, on account of her being mostly shark—and an aura of smug victory.
Ominous.
"What's up?" he asked, cautious, because when Nami was like this it usually spelled trouble for him, one way or another.
"Oh, you know," she said with airy delight, sauntering into his office and leaning against his desk. "I'm just being the best damn producer in the history of broadcasting, as usual."
Extremely ominous.
Hizashi raised an eyebrow, and she declared, "I have secured your partner for the quirkless support program, and you're never gonna guess who I got."
Oh, no. If she was this happy it was someone with fame behind them, and if he was stuck with Endeavor for several weeks he was going to fire her on principle. "Eraserhead?" he suggested, just to be a shit, because Nami and Shouta got along about as well as a fancy show dog and a mangy street cat.
She wrinkled her blunt nose in distaste. "It's not your weird friend, Hizashi, fuck you."
Time to bite the bullet. As long as it wasn't actually Endeavor it would probably be fine. The guy had made some progress turning over his new leaf, but also, ew. Hizashi cared about this program, and he didn't want to wind up saddled with a surly hero that was only there because they were being bullied by their PR team. "All right, lay it on me! Who has the great and illustrious producer Nami gotten her hooks into?"
Her smug grin returned full force. "You'll see!" she singsonged, pulling a graceful little pirouette back towards the door.
"Nami! Wait!" She slipped out the door and Hizashi scrambled after her, shouting down the hall, "C'mon, at least give me a chance to prepare!"
"Suffer!" she replied in evil glee as she disappeared around the corner.
"This is not professional!" he hollered after her, ignoring the curious faces of the sound crew poking out the door across the hall. "I should fire you!"
"You won't!" she hollered back, earning a wave of snickers from the spectating techs.
Hizashi threw up his hands in defeat. He wouldn't. She was too damned good at her job. He would stop bringing in those nasty jelly donuts she liked so much though, so take that.
* * *
In the whirlwind preparation of the next two weeks, Hizashi forgot about his mystery partner entirely.
So he wasn't even thinking about it when there was a soft rap on his office door. He was up to his eyeballs in paperwork and wondering for the millionth time that week why he was the one doing it and what he paid Nami for. "Come in!" he called, trying to shuffle things into some semblance of order. He should really hire an assistant or something.
The door opened and a familiar voice said, "Sensei?"
Hizashi looked up, blinked, and felt his lips split into a smile. "Midoriya!" He'd seen him, what, a handful of times since graduation? Shouta liked to keep him updated on the kids though, like the doting, in-denial father he was. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here for the support program!" he said, slipping into Hizashi's office and shutting the door behind him. Then he paused, brow furrowing. "You didn't know?"
Hizashi was going to hide sardines in Nami's office for a month, and then give her a raise. "I didn't! My producer was being very smugly hush hush about it." Although all her self-congratulation was very well deserved. Deku was a wildly popular hero, not to mention a busy one. He'd have to ask her how she managed it.
"Sit!" Hizashi offered, sweeping his paperwork aside. "How've you been? How did Nami manage to snag you for my small-potatoes little program?" It wasn't the sort of thing that had garnered much interest from, well, anyone. Including sponsors, unfortunately. Hizashi had pockets deep enough to handle that part himself if he had to.
Midoriya sat, casting a curious glance over all the junk on Hizashi's desk. "I've been good!" His lips ticked up in a small, almost uncertain smile. "When I heard you were planning on working with quirkless kids, I wanted to help however I could."
It was a surprising admission, until Hizashi remembered that Midoriya had been quirkless himself, once. He was a little hazy on the details, but he knew that the kid didn’t have a quirk of his own until he inherited One for All from All Might, which wasn't exactly public knowledge. Even so, most of the UA staff had found out during the war, if only out of necessity. Shouta had gotten real, real drunk over that one.
"Hell yeah!" Hizashi said, holding his fist out for a bump, and grinning when Midoriya obliged. Hizashi was stoked to be working with him, but there was one little issue that needed to be nipped in the bud, first.
He leaned back in his chair. "Are you still one of my students?"
Midoriya seemed bewildered by the non-sequitur. "Yes?"
The answer made Hizashi snort. "Then you have a lot of overdue assignments."
"Oh." Midoriya still seemed unsure what Hizashi was getting at. "Well, I guess I'm not a student now ."
"Right!" Hizashi thwapped him playfully with a stack of forms. "So stop calling me 'Sensei'. It's Hizashi." He'd never been big on formality. “My students are only my students until they become my colleagues.”
Midoriya blinked at him, and then beamed. "Right! Okay! Looking forward to working with you, Hizashi."
Yeah, he was definitely giving Nami a raise.
* * *
Izuku turned out to be a fucking blessing. He was fantastic with the kids, and his fame baited several sponsors that didn't give a shit about the cause, but did want to be associated with the hero everyone agreed was on a straight shot to number one. Hizashi was plenty happy to relieve them of their money and put it towards support programs and safe housing for quirkless kids.
"Shit," he said, looking at the numbers, laughing a little dazedly as he slid the sheet around for Izuku to see. The positive public response had been amazing, but the donations had blown him away. They could fund the program for years with the money they'd brought in. It was more than Hizashi could have dreamed of. "With that kinda scratch we'll be able to help a lot of kids."
The cause had fallen into his lap almost by accident. He'd been lounging around the police station, waiting for Shouta to wrap things up so they could go grab a bite to eat, when an abuse case had come in. The things Hizashi had overheard turned his fucking stomach, but the worst part was the realization that this sort of violence wasn't uncommon. He'd snagged one of the cops and gotten a grim summary of the statistics. Homelessness, abuse, suicide. Quirkless kids so rarely had anyone on their side that Hizashi was suddenly, fiercely determined to do something about it.
"It'll be a lot of work, but it's worth it. I'll put Nami on the logistics, and I'll talk to Nedzu about setting up a scholarship program so that they have access to education. I think—" a soft sniffle, and Hizashi broke off. Izuku was crying, swiping uselessly at his eyes.
"Hey, now," he crooned, dragging his chair around the table so he could sit beside Izuku, knees bumping his thigh. "What's with the waterworks, hm?" Hizashi had a feeling he knew exactly why.
"It's just," Izuku sniffed. "Nobody ever helps people like us." Like us . Despite everything, Izuku still saw himself in the children society forgot. "Nobody cares. Not really."
The statement was like a knife to his heart, and Hizashi couldn't help but wonder what Izuku had gone through before UA. "I care," he said softly, because he did. Izuku was right that not enough people cared, but Hizashi was one of them.
"I know," Izuku said, the words wobbly, and then he launched himself into Hizashi's arms with a choked sob.
Hizashi held him, stroking a soothing hand down his back, heart aching. He couldn't imagine what it was like, growing up forsaken, an unwanted remnant. Disdained, ignored, mistreated. Being quirkless usually trumped the weird social boost of being an omega. Sometimes it even made things worse. Hizashi didn't know Izuku's history, but he knew pain when he saw it, and this was an old wound that had gone long untreated. "We'll look after as many as we can," he said into Izuku's hair. A heavy promise, maybe, but one he intended to keep. "And they'll always have people who care. You can count on it."
Izuku sobbed something that might have been thank you into his shoulder, and Hizashi held him tighter, secure in the knowledge that they were doing the right thing.
[Now]
Hizashi dragged his luggage down the hotel hallway, stifling a yawn. He'd been up since today was yesterday, and his sleep schedule might be fucking appalling but he wasn't Shouta. He did in fact need some sleep to be able to function. Maybe he'd be able to catch a quick nap before the welcome dinner. Assuming his mysterious bunkmate would let him.
He liked these conferences, generally speaking. Got to catch up with colleagues he didn't often see, hassle Shouta in a public setting, and eat a bunch of fancy food on Nedzu's dime. And talk, of course, which was one of his favorite activities. This year he was doing a talk on omega discrimination in heroism, which was bound to make their primarily alpha and beta cohort a smidge uncomfortable. Should be fun.
The downside was that the hotels were usually overbooked, which meant he often had to share with another omega hero, and this year was no exception. He just hoped it wasn't Monoma again. He was a good kid, but christ being in the same room as him for an extended period was exhausting. Which was saying something, coming from him. Hizashi was well aware that he could be a little obnoxious, but at least he had the decency to shut up on rare occasion.
The door to his room was slightly ajar when he arrived, meaning his roommate had already arrived. He shouldered the door open, struggling to squeeze the duffel, suitcase, backpack, and himself through. "Hey, hey!" he called, because barging in on a hero without announcing yourself was generally ill-advised.
A soft "Oh!" met his greeting, and Hizashi trundled out of the entryway to see a familiar face perched on the bed near the window.
Izuku blinked at him in momentary surprise, and then smiled, face lighting up like a sunbeam. "Hizashi!" he said, sounding so delighted to see him that Hizashi couldn't help but grin in reply.
Hizashi dumped his luggage on the floor. "Roomie lottery win," he said, pleased. Izuku would definitely let him nap. "How've you been? They running you ragged, mister hotshot number three?" Izuku had rocketed through the rankings since his debut, which was only to be expected. He was a damned good hero, and he'd had a bit of a leg up in public opinion considering, well, everything.
"Sleep is optional, right?" Izuku said with a wry grin, and Hizashi snorted a laugh.
"That's what I keep telling myself," Hizashi said, the words punctuated by another timely yawn. Not for the first time, he wondered if he was getting too old to juggle three jobs and not die.
He grabbed the overstuffed duffel with all of his nesting supplies. "I haven't seen you for a while; gimme the updates. Is Bakugou behaving himself?" A lot of the kids from their year had opted to start their own agency, and hell if they weren't killing it. Shouta was such a proud dad about it and it was so fucking cute.
So Izuku regaled him with tales of his former classmates and their agency, including a story about Kaminari accidentally electrocuting a commission official that made Hizashi snort out loud. While Izuku talked, Hizashi went about setting up his little travel nest. Favorite blanket, big and fluffy and super warm. An oversized pillow from home, a smaller blanket that Hizashi had to constantly harass Shouta to re-scent because he was the worst friend. A few things from his parents, scents faded, but still nice to have.
At some point he realized that Izuku had trailed off, and he looked up to see Izuku watching him fight for adequate pillow positioning with open curiosity. Hizashi wasn't the fussiest omega when it came to his nest, but he still liked things just so, and it was hard to replicate in a hotel room. It was then that he noticed Izuku hadn't started his own nest, still sitting on the neatly made hotel bed, nary a scrap of nesting material in sight.
"You might wanna get started," Hizashi said, putting the pillow down, frowning at it, and scooting it a bit to the left. "If it's anything like last year, the jet lag will kick in halfway through dinner and you are not gonna want to have to build your nest when we get back." Hizashi had made that mistake once. He'd slept like shit and woken with a bitch of a travel hangover.
When Izuku didn't answer, Hizashi looked up from his battle with the pillow to see him looking back with a tiny, puzzled frown. "I'm fine," Izuku said, gaze sweeping Hizashi's nest with a peculiar expression, before looking back at him with a small shrug. "I don't uh, nest?"
Hizashi stared at him, then scanned the rest of the room. One small bag and that was it. Barely big enough for clothes for the weekend, let alone nesting materials. Hizashi had never met an omega who didn't travel with at least some nesting supplies from home. Something about this didn't feel quite right. "When you travel?" he asked.
"Ever?" Izuku shrugged again, then admitted, "I'm not sure what it's... for, exactly?"
Hizashi sat down on his bed, pillow forgotten. "Nobody ever taught you about nesting?" he asked, heart squeezing. He knew Izuku's mother was a beta, but the omega welfare classes were supposed to fill those gaps. Nesting was such an integral part of omega health and well-being that the idea that Izuku had never even learned how was heartbreaking to contemplate.
Izuku drew his knees up, looking a little self-conscious. "Not really, but it's just blankets and stuff, right? I don't see why it matters."
Hizashi sucked in a slow breath, because he did not want to make Izuku feel bad about this, but he was also fucking horrified. "Didn't you take the omega welfare classes as a kid?"
"Oh. No." Izuku shook his head. "I was the only omega in my year, and my teacher didn't want to 'waste resources' on a quirkless kid." A humorless smile. "Wasn't the first time, or the last. But it's fine, really! I know the classes were meant to cover heats and stuff like that, but I managed to figure it out on my own."
Hizashi swallowed around a sharp, acute swell of rage. Omegas were genetically rare, more than the math suggested they should be. Because of that, useful and accurate information about instincts and needs was hard to find. That was the whole point of the omega welfare classes. Trying to find anything useful on your own in the mire of misinformation and porn was nigh impossible. That a teacher had taken that opportunity from Izuku because he was quirkless was doubly infuriating. "I'm going to drown your teacher in a mud puddle," he muttered.
Izuku snorted a laugh and Hizashi decided he couldn't let this stand. "How do you sleep, generally speaking?" He could feel the platitude coming as soon as Izuku opened his mouth, so he added, "Be honest. This is important."
Izuku looked doubtful, but didn't argue. "I've always been a restless sleeper, so not great, I guess."
Always been a restless sleeper because nobody ever taught him how to fucking nest. Hizashi wanted to throttle someone. "Okay, omega bullshit lesson time. Nesting is absolutely fundamental to omega health." Hizashi nibbled his lip, trying to figure out how to explain it. "Alphas and omegas are hard-coded with some pretty strong instinctive shit that betas don't have to deal with. Nesting is one of those instincts, but without an omega parent to pick it up from, it usually needs to be taught." Hizashi's parents were both omegas, and he was suddenly very grateful for the fact.
Izuku had perked up at the word lesson, because he'd never met a fact he didn't want to learn. "If it's an instinct then why does it need to be taught?" he asked.
"Because humans come out of the box mostly unassembled," Hizashi smiled when the statement earned a laugh from Izuku. "And we're inefficient as hell. But here, for example," he waved Izuku over, and gestured to his fluffy nesting blanket and then the hotel coverlet. "If you had to pick one of these, which would it be?"
Izuku cast him a curious glance, but touched Hizashi's nesting blanket, lingering over the softness in a way that proved his point immediately. "This one," he said with no hesitation.
"Right, because we're inclined towards comfort in our nesting materials. Things that are particularly soft, or fluffy, or cozy are always going to win." Simple blankets helped with bulk, but they never made the inside of the nest. Hizashi picked up the scented blanket from Shouta, and tugged a clean one from his bag. "Which of these would you choose?"
Izuku was getting into the exercise now, like Hizashi had presented him with a puzzle that needed solving. "They're the same," he said after a moment, because they were. In terms of texture, wear, volume, everything physical—the blankets were identical. Hizashi had a bunch of them that he used as scent items. He shoved them both into Izuku's hands.
"Smell them, and then answer," Hizashi said.
Izuku did as instructed, smelling the clean one with a faintly puzzled air. Then he smelled Shouta's and his expression melted into startled recognition. "This smells like Aizawa-sensei," he said. Hizashi took a moment to be smug that Shouta still got the sensei treatment.
Hizashi ignored the question in the statement for the moment. "Sure does. So which would you pick?"
This one took Izuku longer to answer, and Hizashi had a feeling that it wasn't because he was unsure, but because he was embarrassed. Eventually he held up the one that smelled like Shouta, a little red-faced. "This one."
It was cute, and a little sad. "That's because we like nesting materials that smell like people we're familiar with and feel safe around. Family, friends, favorite teachers." Shouta and his problem class had been through the fucking ringer together. Hizashi would have been surprised if Izuku didn't find his scent at least a little comforting.
"What's the point, though?" Izuku asked, returning the blanket to Hizashi with a reluctance he wasn't sure Izuku even noticed. "Seems like it just makes sleeping a lot more complicated."
He wasn't wrong. "It does, but it's worth it. Omegas sleep better in a nest. Having one reduces stress, makes heats easier. Nests make us feel more secure, and I know it must seem silly if you've never had one, but I promise you, the difference between having one and not is astronomical."
Izuku hummed thoughtfully, considering Hizashi's now-mussed nest. "And it's just more blankets and stuff?"
Hizashi slapped his shoulder and launched himself back off the bed. "You know what? C'mon."
Izuku blinked at him, but followed. "Where are we going?" he asked as Hizashi slipped back into his shoes.
Hizashi figured if he was giving Izuku a crash course in nesting and why it mattered, that they could do it right. He mourned the loss of his nap, but this was more important. "We're going shopping for nesting materials!"
[Then]
Izuku's phone buzzed with a pointed text from Suwa, head of the agency's public relations department. He groaned, letting his head hit his desk and interrupting Hitoshi's story about the creep with the invisibility quirk he'd caught last night.
"I've been escalated," Izuku complained into the expectant silence.
"I have no idea what that means," Hitoshi said, swinging his legs off Izuku's desk with the creak of a chair uprighting. He ruffled Izuku's hair in a way that was meant to be condescending, but was still nice.
"It means," Izuku said, levering himself upright and giving his best friend an aggrieved look. "That I have to do an interview." The PR department had been after him about it for weeks, but Izuku hated interviews. They made him feel like a pinned butterfly, and all the questions were either irrelevant, or embarrassing, or both. They always had a very uncomfortable fixation on his non-existent love life, more than most heroes. Hawks had told him once that was the lot of omegas in the spotlight. It sucked.
"Can't relate," Hitoshi said, mirroring his position with a mocking grin. "I do what I want, when I want. And I try to actively avoid cameras."
Izuku shoved at his face in disgust, earning a snorted laugh. "Some friend you are," he complained. He'd always wanted to be a hero for the people, right from the jump, but he hadn't quite realized how demanding the people could be. There were days when the anonymity of underground work sounded very appealing.
"I don't see what the problem is," Hitoshi drawled, leaning back in his chair. "You're good at interviews. All sparkling optimism and boy-next-door charm. It's kinda gross, if I'm being honest."
Izuku ignored the dig. "No, I'm fine when someone shoves a microphone in my face after an incident and asks me questions about what happened. Interviews mean they cram me in an uncomfortable suit, trot me out in front of an audience like a slab of meat, pay two seconds of lip service to my job, and then start asking if I'm seeing anyone ."
"Look, just tell them the truth."
"What truth?" Izuku asked. The truth was his love life was a barren wasteland, which was what he always told them. Although not in so many words.
"That you're a neurotic gay headcase with a lingering crush on his high school English teacher," Hitoshi said, with a grin that made Izuku want to smother him.
He was starting to regret telling Hitoshi about that. "I'm not telling them I'm gay, Suwa would kill me." Just thinking about the media feeding frenzy made him feel slightly ill.
"No such thing as bad publicity," Hitoshi pointed out.
He wasn't wrong. Suwa would be over the fucking moon. Izuku would kill himself. "Then I'll have to deal with them asking if I'm dating Hawks, which does not seem like an improvement." As the only other omega hero in the top ten, the media loved to conflate them. Izuku had no doubt they'd run away with news of his sexuality and the last thing he wanted to see were speculations about who he was sleeping with. Especially considering he wasn't sleeping with anyone.
A slow, devious smirk spread across Hitoshi's face. "Or Present Mic."
Izuku threw a pen at him. "Shut up! You're supposed to support me, not ridicule me!" So Izuku had a teeny, tiny crush on Hizashi when he was a student. That was normal! And he happened to know that Hitoshi had nursed a very similar crush on Aizawa-sensei, but since Izuku was a good friend—unlike some people—he wasn't going to weaponize that in retaliation.
Hizashi was his only omega teacher, that was all. He was nice, and funny. Not to mention super smart and a bit devious. So maybe Izuku had a little teenage crush on him. And maybe that little teenage crush had bloomed into a moderate adult crush after the whole quirkless support program thing. Which was not his fault, how was he supposed to work with this man who was on a crusade to help quirkless kids, kids like Izuku , and not have some feelings about that?
"I can do both," Hitoshi said, and then cocked his head, considering. "Hey, maybe that's the answer to your problem."
Izuku scrubbed at suddenly-warm cheeks, not following. "What is?"
"Mic. He does interviews on his show all the time," Hitoshi leaned on Izuku's desk, warming up to his idea. "And I bet he'd be cool avoiding weird topics."
That. Wasn't a bad idea, actually. Radio wasn't exactly what the PR department was after, but Hizashi's show was popular, and they might concede just to get him to cooperate for once. Plus it would give him an excuse to talk to Hizashi again. Not that that mattered, or anything.
"You're a genius," Izuku said, relieved.
"I know," Hitoshi said, smug. "I expect to be the best man at the wedding."
Izuku threw another pen at him.
* * *
Izuku waffled about texting or calling, before deciding it would be best to ask in person. He texted Hizashi's producer to find out when he'd be in the studio, and then cleared some time to visit. Izuku supposed he could drop by at the school, but that always caused a bit of a stir with the students. Plus he'd feel obligated to say hi to Nedzu and Aizawa-sensei, and that usually resulted in him being used as some sort of crash test dummy for training, so. The studio it was.
Izuku had spent quite a bit of time there while they were working on the support program, and he found that he liked it. It was small, and sort of homey. There weren't many employees, just Hizashi, Miss Nami, and a smattering of techs who were all friendly and not terribly dazzled by his fame. There weren't a lot of places where he got to feel like a regular person. It was nice.
It was late Saturday afternoon, and nobody was around to let him in, but Miss Nami had given him the code to the door. She'd said he was welcome to come around whenever he wanted, followed by a dizzying array of emojis that was mostly hearts and sparkles. So Izuku slipped inside the quiet studio and made his way to Hizashi's office, knocking on the door with a flare of nerves. Which was silly! He had nothing to be nervous about.
"Come in!" Hizashi called.
Izuku opened the door, and Hizashi smiled when he saw him in a way that set Izuku's heart tripping in his chest. Temporary adult crush, he reminded himself. "Izuku!" he said, sounding so pleased that Izuku had to reiterate temporary. "What brings you to my humble studio?"
"I have a huge favor to ask," Izuku said, sliding into the chair on the other side of the desk. Hizashi raised his eyebrows and motioned for him to continue. "My PR department has been after me to do an interview, except I hate interviews, but I know you do them and I thought that wouldn't be so bad?" The request blew out of him in a single, jittery breath.
"One of the biggest heroes out there is asking to be on my show?" He spun in his chair with an exaggerated air of consideration. "Well. I suppose I could fit you in somewhere. You know, as a favor."
Izuku felt himself flush at the teasing. "Thanks," he said, genuinely grateful. "Doing interviews is the worst part of my job, and it'll be easier if it's you."
The statement earned him a surprised look, and then a small, soft smile. "What's so terrible about interviews?"
Ugh. "Everything?" Izuku said, throwing up his hands. "Everyone always asks the most awkward questions that have nothing to do with being a hero! Why does it matter if I'm dating someone? Why do they always ask that? Who cares?" Even during his most rabid fan days, Izuku hadn't cared about that sort of thing beyond idle speculation about what sort of quirks their kids might have. Or a sort of general pleasure that someone he admired was happy. But he'd never understood the fascination.
"I hate to break it to you," Hizashi said, resting his chin on his hand with a smile that should be illegal. "But lots of people care. Chronic nosiness is the price of being a public figure. The bigger you are, the bigger the nose." He opened a desk drawer, pulling out a notebook and a pen that he clicked rapidly. "BUT that doesn't mean we have to throw you under the bus to scratch the itch. What're your no-go's?"
"What do you mean?" Izuku asked, not quite following.
"What topics do you want to avoid?"
"Oh!" Nobody had ever asked him that before. People usually asked him whatever awkward questions they wanted, and left him red-faced and scrambling for an answer. It was nice to have someone who cared enough to find out what he wanted. "Personal questions. If one more person sticks a microphone in my face and asks me my type I'm making a career change to villainy."
Hizashi laughed, a bright bark of amusement that made Izuku's ears warm. "No relationship shit, got it. But I don't think we need to axe all personal questions. The point of interviews like this is to get a peek at the person behind the costume, right? And I think we can find a happy medium."
Izuku wasn't so sure, but he was willing to give Hizashi the benefit of the doubt. "What did you have in mind?"
Hizashi tapped his pen against his chin. "If we want to stick with silly fluff, we could do things like... I dunno, favorite hero." He winked, and Izuku was afraid his ears might stay red forever. "Go-to comfort movie. What kind of books you like to read. You could tell us about your cat." Izuku considered. That all seemed pretty harmless, and he liked talking about his favorite heroes. And his cat. Hizashi continued, "And if we want to get a little more in-depth, maybe we could talk about your work with the quirkless support program. Your thoughts on the industry. Or even your analysis hobby, I bet that's something not many people know about, and it's impressive as hell."
Oh yeah, the red ears were definitely going to be permanent. But still! Those questions sounded so much nicer and more interesting than the weird and invasive ones Izuku usually got. "Yeah, I think all of that would be fine!" he said, warming up to the idea. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad!
Hizashi hummed and scribbled a few notes. "Childhood?" he asked. "People love cute kid stories."
Izuku grimaced. His childhood was not a happy topic for him. Being quirkless had been bad enough, but being a quirkless omega? Was worse. He probably had some cute stories to tell, but Izuku wasn't interested in navigating a minefield to find them. "I'd rather not, if you don't mind," he said, subdued.
Hizashi's expression went soft with understanding. "You got it," he said, running a line through something in his notebook. "Anything else you want to avoid? I want to make sure I don't blindside you with something uncomfortable."
It was a strange feeling, being listened to. His job pulled him in a thousand different directions constantly, and nobody ever seemed interested in hearing his opinion about any of it. Izuku do this interview. Izuku pose for that photoshoot. Izuku, be a caricature of yourself so that we can sell more merchandise.
But not Hizashi. He only seemed interested in making sure Izuku was comfortable, and it was such a small thing, but enormous at the same time. Izuku rubbed his chest, firmly telling his stupid little crush to behave. It was probably because Hizashi was a hero too, and he understood exactly what it was like to jump through all the crazy hoops that entailed. The effort was appreciated all the same.
This was a really, really good idea. Izuku owed Hitoshi for suggesting it, even if he was going to be completely insufferable about it.
[Now]
Izuku hadn't exactly expected his day to include trailing after Present Mic like a lost little duckling on a hunt for nesting supplies, but it was kinda nice? Despite being his only omega teacher, it hadn't occurred to Izuku to go to Hizashi with any of his questions about his gender when he was a teenager. Part embarrassment at not knowing things he should already know, part resignation.
He'd tried, so hard, to learn on his own. It was something Izuku had prided himself on being particularly good at—accumulating knowledge the rest of the world refused to give him. But resources for omegas were so hard to find, especially if you didn't know exactly what you were looking for. Izuku had been good enough at sniffing out the bullshit, but finding anything useful had been a losing battle. So he'd conceded to the fact that he was just going to have to figure it out as he went, and that was exactly what he'd done.
Or at least, that's what he thought.
The genuine concern on Hizashi's face when Izuku told him that he didn't nest was touching, but also a sign that he hadn't figured things out as well as he'd thought. And it wasn't like he was completely ignorant, he'd heard of nesting before. Sort of. But best he could tell it just involved putting a lot of stuff on your bed, and he'd never understood the purpose of it.
So to hear it was something considered integral to omega wellbeing? Izuku wasn't sure what to make of it. He did know that if piling his bed with extra blankets turned out to be the remedy to his poor sleep he might scream about it. Just a little.
Izuku was pulled from his thoughts as a passerby's gaze lingered on him a little too long, and he tugged his hat down to make sure it was still hiding his hair and hurried to match pace with Hizashi's long strides. Izuku found that if he covered his hair his chances of being recognized were less, but it always seemed to be a bit of a tossup. Hizashi seemed unconcerned, humming an aimless little tune under his breath.
"Do you ever worry about being recognized?" Izuku asked, because years in he was still learning how to deal with the tragic death of anonymity. Sure, he had an assistant he could send to the store for him, but sometimes a guy just wanted to buy a cup of coffee without getting mobbed.
Hizashi glanced down at him with a smile that made Izuku feel fluttery. He was a little dismayed that his stupid, stubborn crush had missed the memo that it was meant to be temporary. "Nah," Hizashi said with a loose shrug. "The hair throws people off. Present Mic can only be perceived with about an extra foot of verticality. I usually only get clocked in public if I get too loud and enthusiastic about something. Hazards of my voice being my most notable feature." He glanced over Izuku, gaze landing on the hat. "Having trouble on that front, I take it?"
Izuku grimaced. "Every time I go outside I feel like I have a target painted on my back. I don't mind the fans!" Izuku didn't want to seem ungrateful for his luck, but he had severely underestimated what it would be like. "I just wish it was contained to when I'm in costume."
"And that," Hizashi said, patting his pockets, "is exactly why Shouta went underground. Attention gives him hives." He found what he was looking for with a soft sound of victory, pulling a pair of sunglasses from his jacket and sliding them on Izuku's face. Hizashi's fingertips grazed Izuku's ear and he shivered, brain throwing nothing but static for a good five seconds. Now was not the time for Izuku's silly little crush to make a nuisance of itself.
At least Hizashi hadn't seemed to notice. "There. Now you look like a celebrity trying to duck the paparazzi."
Izuku snorted. "At least they usually keep their distance."
Hizashi slapped a friendly hand on his back. "I hate to break it to you, my guy, but you chose the wrong career path if you like personal space."
Izuku heaved a heavy, put-upon sigh. "Tell me about it."
"On the plus side," Hizashi said, "I think chances are a lot slimmer considering we're halfway across the world."
Oh. Izuku hadn't considered that, but Hizashi was right. Izuku wasn't naive enough to think he was entirely unknown in America, but it made him feel a lot better. Maybe he could get a cup of coffee without being mobbed. That would be nice.
Hizashi stopped so abruptly that Izuku walked a few extra steps before he realized, turning to look at him in confusion. Hizashi gestured to the store across the street with a flourish. "We have arrived."
It was a small bedding store, tucked between a photographer and a bakery. "The little places tend to be better for nesting supplies than the big chain stores," Hizashi explained as they crossed the street. "More expensive too, but I'm betting you can afford a few extra bucks these days." He held open the door for Izuku and waved him inside.
Izuku still wasn't sure he got the concept of a nest, exactly. "What makes a nest different from a bed with more stuff?"
"A nest doesn't have to be on a bed, for one." He led Izuku past the displays of sheets and duvet covers, towards the back of the store. "And you're gonna hate this, but it's a nest when it feels like a nest. There's no real hard criteria, and some omegas are way fussier about them than others."
"What about you?" Izuku asked, because he'd watched Hizashi building his own nest with bewildered curiosity, and he'd seemed at war with the placement of a particular pillow.
"Me? Eh." Hizashi waggled a hand. "Middle of the road. Every so often I get hung up on something stupid, but usually I'm more worried about the contents of the nest than the construction. Aha, here we are." Hizashi steered Izuku to a particular display with a distracting touch on the small of his back.
The items seemed similar to the ones Hizashi had in his own nest. Blankets and pillows tending towards the soft and plush, cozy-looking pajamas, fluffy plush toys. He glanced at Hizashi, uncertain. "So uh, what do I need?"
Hizashi shrugged with a lopsided grin. "Nesting supplies are entirely about vibes. If you feel good about something, if it appeals to you for whatever reason, get it. It's a bit of a trial and error thing and you'll probably pick up some stuff today you'll decide you don't care for once it's actually in your nest, but Rome wasn't built in a day, or whatever." He reached out and grabbed a bundle of three small blankets. "If you want a suggestion though, these make great scent blankets. Portable, easy to wash, holds scent beautifully, soft as anything."
Izuku accepted the package, stroking the soft material. They did feel very nice. "Scent blankets?" he asked.
"Like the one I showed you before, that smelled like Shouta?" Hizashi didn't look at him, perusing the display with a thoughtful frown. "They're for friends, family, lovers, what have you. So that your nest smells like the people you care about. I have one for Shouta, and one each for my parents." He looked at a tag, wrinkled his nose, and moved on. "Betas are harder because they can't scent things the way omegas and alphas can, but having them sleep with a scent blanket for a week or so usually does the trick."
He checked another tag, and this one seemed to meet his approval. Hizashi tugged it down and passed it to Izuku. "How about this one?"
It was a queen-sized blanket in a nice seafoam green, and it felt like a cloud. Izuku was immediately enamored with it in a way that felt a little extreme for a blanket, and the fact that Hizashi had chosen it for him made Izuku feel pleasantly tingly all over.
The talk of scent blankets also made something Izuku had been wondering bubble to the surface. Not that it was any of his business, but some of the things Hizashi had said made him wonder. "Can I ask a personal question?" he asked, curiosity beating out embarrassment at prying.
Hizashi paused in his perusal of a stuffed llama to raise a brow at him. "Sure?"
Ugh, this was so awkward, but Izuku wanted to know. "Are you and Aizawa-sensei together?" If Hizashi was spoken for, maybe Izuku could stop being so twitterpated over him.
Hizashi stared at him for long enough that Izuku started to worry he'd overstepped, then he wrinkled his nose and said, "Ugh. Gross."
That was... not the reaction Izuku expected. "What?"
Hizashi returned the llama to the shelf and turned to face Izuku. "Shouta is my favorite person in the whole wide world. I love him like burning, and I would commit murder for him no questions asked. And if he ever tried to kiss me I would punch him in the nose." He punctuated the statement with a theatrical shudder. "I'm so offended you think I couldn't do better than a man who uses three-in-one shampoo. How dare you. That would be like me asking if you're banging Shinsou."
Oh, ew. His distaste at the idea must have shown on his face because Hizashi snapped and pointed at him aggressively. "Exactly! The brother-fucking energy in that question is unreal . I'm going to have nightmares."
The smile Hizashi's theatrics teased from him was entirely out of Izuku's control. "Can you ever forgive me?"
Hizashi sniffed. "Maybe. But only because you're cute."
Izuku was grateful that Hizashi went back to scouting nesting material and therefore did not see the way his face absolutely flamed at the statement. It was just a joke! Hizashi did not actually think Izuku was cute! Probably. Maybe? But what if he did? Izuku turned woodenly back to the wall of blankets and tried to shove the thought away. This was not something he should be thinking about while sharing a room with the man.
In the end Hizashi wound up choosing most of the supplies himself, because every time he gave something to Izuku, his bones turned to pleased jelly. He kept reminding himself that Hizashi was trying to be helpful, but something about him choosing things that Izuku liked tugged pleasantly at that bewildering amalgam of omega instinct that Izuku had never been very good at deciphering.
The only things Izuku wound up choosing for himself were a pillow, and a pair of super soft pajamas. The first because it had a texture he was immediately, confusingly obsessed with, and the second because Hizashi said some omegas liked to have nest-specific pajamas and something about that resonated a little.
Izuku paid for their haul, and then it was back to the hotel.
Izuku realized that he was going to have to buy another suitcase or two in order to get all the stuff they’d bought home. He dropped his bags on the floor, glancing from Hizashi's nest back to his own spare bed. "Now what?"
Hizashi smiled at him, small and soft, and Izuku thought it should be illegal for anyone to be that handsome. At least where he had to look at it.
"Now you build your nest!"
[Then]
Hizashi gnawed absently at his pen, staring at his notebook with unfocused eyes. He really needed some ideas for upcoming shows, before they became current shows and he was stuck winging it. Which was fun sometimes, but it stressed Nami right out, and Hizashi tried to only bully her on purpose.
There just... didn't seem to be anything in the well, at the moment. He resorted to doodling a terrible stick figure of Shouta and wondered if he should throw in the towel for the night. Couldn't force genius, or something like that.
His phone buzzed with a text, and Hizashi glanced down, only to raise his eyebrows when he saw who it was from. The hell was Izuku doing, texting him at this hour? The last message had been profuse thanks for the interview, which had made Hizashi snort fondly. Having Izuku on his show had blown his ratings out of the water—Nami had been frothing at the mouth. But maybe that said a lot about the casual disrespect the kid was used to from the media. Hizashi would happily engage him in a stupid debate over whether Gang Orca would beat Endeavor in a fistfight any day his little heart desired.
Besides, the fans had loved that one.
Hizashi scooped up his phone, checking the text.
midnight ice cream time!!!!! what flavor do you want?
Hizashi smiled. Izuku was so cute. But the text obviously wasn't intended for him, so Hizashi considered a moment before he tapped out his response.
I think you got the wrong guy, my dude, but just in case I'm wrong, I'll take banana =P
The response was immediate.
oh my god i'm so sorry???? i meant to send that to hitoshi. I hope I didn't wake you up? o(TヘTo)
God, he was too sweet to be real, the world did not deserve him.
Nah, I'm at the studio trying to get some work done, you're good. Enjoy your ice cream!
Hizashi lingered over his phone a moment longer, but no response was forthcoming, so he dropped it back on his desk with a smile and returned to his notebook. He hoped Shinsou appreciated what a good friend he had. After a moment of consideration, he added a little Shinsou stick figure beside the Shouta one. Then an Izuku one. Then a baby leash on both of them as he snickered to himself.
And people said art was hard, pffft. He tore out his little masterpiece and stuffed it in his pocket. He'd give it to Shouta tomorrow.
Hizashi tried to get some actual work done, but it was a losing battle. A few lackluster ideas and half an hour later, and he was ready to call it quits for the night when someone knocked on his office door.
He startled, frowning. Nobody was there but him, and Nami had never heard of knocking besides. "Come in?" he called, cautious. Maybe one of the techs had forgotten something?
A moment where his mystery visitor seemed to struggle with the doorknob, and then the door swung open to reveal Izuku, hair comically windswept and holding two containers of ice cream. He set one of them on Hizashi's desk with the proud air of a cat gifting its owner a dead mouse. Banana, from a place on the other side of town.
Before Hizashi could even ask, Izuku dropped into the other chair, chattering breathlessly. "Oh good, you're still here! I wasn't sure, because it took me forever to find a place that was open and had banana ice cream, that's a super weird flavor. It's good though!" A tiny pause. "I tried it, I hope you don't mind?"
"That's fine," Hizashi said on autopilot, still trying to process what was happening. "I thought this was supposed to be for Shinsou?"
"Oh, well," Izuku waved his spoon vaguely before taking a bite of his own ice cream. "I just thought it was really terrible to promise someone midnight ice cream, and then not deliver? I know I would be sad if someone said they were getting me ice cream and then didn't, so." A sheepish smile and a shrug. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him, I guess."
Hizashi was so fucking charmed he couldn't stand it. Izuku had really gone all over the city to find him banana ice cream over a mistext? He shook his head, picking up the ice cream and taking a bite with a happy hum. "You're sweet, thank you."
Izuku went red at the compliment, and Hizashi continued to be delighted at how easy it was to make him blush. "Um. You're welcome?"
"Can't think of anyone else who would run all over the city this time of night to bring me ice cream," Hizashi continued. And then, because he was a huge dork and a chronic flirt, "I think I'm in love."
Izuku went from red to absolutely molten, eeping out something that might have been an attempt at words.
Fucking hell, but he was cute.
Hizashi tucked into his ice cream while Izuku struggled to compose himself, smug.
He was almost half done by the time Izuku managed to ask, "What, um. What are you working on?" He sounded a little strangled and Hizashi bit down on a grin.
Hizashi gave his spoon a perfectly normal, not-filthy lick, despite the temptation to double down on his teasing. Izuku had brought him ice cream, and Hizashi would not bully the poor thing over it, no matter how fun it was to fluster him. "I'm not, really. Was trying to work on ideas for future shows, but not having much luck with it."
Izuku perked up, embarrassment washed away by curiosity. "Can I help?"
Hizashi snatched up his pen, twirling it in his fingers. At this point, he'd take anything he could get. "Sure! What do you have in mind?"
Hizashi was then reminded that Izuku was some sort of crazy genius with more thoughts than one human brain should contain—the minute he opened his mouth, it was like striking a match. Izuku's ideas were good, and they kept spinning Hizashi off in new and interesting directions. An hour later he had enough ideas to keep his show running for a good six months or more.
"This was amazing," Hizashi said. And then, thoughtless, "Can I keep you?"
The blush was back, paired with a pleased grin, and Hizashi wasn't entirely sure he was joking.
[Now]
Izuku seemed unimpressed with the lack of direction, and Hizashi had to bite back a laugh because he looked adorably lost standing in the middle of the pile of stuff.
Hizashi had to admit he may have gone a touch overboard, but choosing nesting items for Izuku had been fun. Figuring out the sort of things he'd like. Supersoft blankets and small pillows with interesting textures were an instant hit. Plushies were met with more ambivalence, although he'd accepted the llama. Hizashi was also pretty sure he'd be big on scent blankets once he got the ball rolling with those. Some omegas preferred it when their nest didn't smell like anyone but them, but Hizashi had a feeling Izuku would land in the opposite camp.
He left Izuku to the mundane task of dealing with packaging and snipping tags. Since it was all new, it would be better to let him open everything himself, to help him feel like these things belonged to him. In the meantime Hizashi finished assembling his own nest, and, after a moment of consideration, setting aside Shouta's scent blanket.
Once his haul had been freed from the trappings of commercial packaging, uncertainty crept back across Izuku's face. "So now it all goes on the bed?"
Hizashi was struck with the horrifying mental image of Izuku just dumping everything in a haphazard pile. "Nest building is an individual art, but I can show you how I do it to get you started?"
Izuku looked immediately relieved. "Yes, please."
Helping an omega build a nest was, well, a little intimate. But then so was picking out nesting supplies, so Hizashi supposed he'd already fudged that line. Besides, the whole thing was in the name of education. Izuku was learning something he should have been taught as a kid, and if he was cool with it, then so was Hizashi. "Okay, so, the mistake most people make at first is not leaving enough blanket to sleep under. They get hung up on the walls and then they gotta dismantle it or freeze."
He held out a hand for the green blanket Izuku was clutching, and he handed it over readily. Hizashi had insisted on two, because one was never quite enough, but he realized that it might have been a bit much for a travel nest. Oh well. "You wanna leave space at the side of the bed so you can get in and out without mussing everything up." He wrangled the blanket into position with the ease of practice, and Izuku handed him the second one unprompted. "The first is going to be most of your structure, and you want that to be your top and side. Then for the second, you want to put that around the foot, and make sure that you position it so you can just grab the edge and pull it up to sleep without dislodging the whole thing." He stepped back, surveying his work, and then glanced at Izuku. "How's that?" he asked, and then mentally kicked himself because he wasn't looking for Izuku's approval, he was trying to show him what to do.
"It's perfect," Izuku said softly, and Hizashi swallowed hard against the thrill of pleasure.
He was not building a nest for Izuku, he was teaching him how to do it. Important distinction. He cleared his throat and stepped back. "Well, that's the basics. The rest can go however you want. Just kinda gotta mess with it until the omega hindbrain decides it's good enough."
"Thank you," Izuku said, clutching one of his new pillows to his chest. "You didn't have to do any of this."
God help him, how was Izuku so cute? "Don't sweat it. I was happy to. Oh, and uh, here." Hizashi snatched up Shouta's scent blanket and handed it to Izuku. "To get you started."
Izuku looked startled, but also so pleased that Hizashi knew it was the right call. "Are you sure? This is yours."
Hizashi waved the question away. "I can get another one from him no problem, don't worry about it."
"And you don't think he'd mind?" Izuku pressed.
Hizashi couldn't quite bite back a laugh, because Shouta was damn near a surrogate father to half those kids at this point, and he was particularly fond of Izuku. "No, I don't think he'd mind. And when the scent fades don't be afraid to ask him to re-scent it. He does it for me all the time. He knows the program."
"Okay, thank you," he said, putting the blanket near the edge of the nest. Then he paused, frowned, and moved it to the head. Hizashi smiled because he was the same way with scented items—he preferred them close.
"So is it okay to ask anyone for a scent blanket?" Izuku asked, reaching for the new ones he'd bought.
Trying to figure out the social implications, probably. "Yeah! Anyone whose scent you'd feel comfortable having in your nest is fair game. Alphas will almost always agree because they're a bunch of territorial shits, even platonically. Omegas usually will, unless you ask one who's particularly fussy about their own nests. They can be weird about it. Betas can be a bit harder because they don't really get it, and it's more of a process for them. I'd save that for people you're particularly close to, like your mom. But the rule is, if you care about someone enough to ask, they'll usually agree."
"Then, um." Izuku picked at the edge of one of the blankets, cheeks pink. "Would you mind?"
Hizashi was struck by the sudden and half-hysterical urge to shove Izuku against the nearest surface and kiss him inside out. Okay, okay, all the nesting shit was clearly getting to him and Hizashi needed to get a grip immediately. He found his voice and even managed to sound normal. "Sure! I'm flattered you want one."
Izuku perked up, embarrassment fading almost immediately as he handed Hizashi one of the new blankets. He was tempted to ask the same of Izuku, but he kept the question firmly behind his teeth. Having Izuku's scent in his nest was maybe not a smart move at the moment. Instead, he focused on dragging the scent glands on the underside of his wrist slowly across the soft fibers designed to catch and hold it.
Once he was done, he handed the blanket back to Izuku. He accepted it with a happy hum, going loose-limbed and pleased in a way that made Hizashi contemplate throwing himself from the balcony. "Well!" he said, scrambling for something to say, something to defuse the tension that was probably all in his head. "I don't know about you, but I'm gonna grab a nap before dinner." The fact that he was so fucking tired wasn't helping things at all.
"Oh, that sounds nice," Izuku said, springing up and grabbing his new pajamas to go change.
Hizashi took the opportunity to do the same, and then flopped into his nest like a rag doll. This sudden, fierce attraction to Izuku had to be a mashup of exhaustion and nesting bullshit. A little sleep would be just the thing to hit the reset button. Hizashi might be a bit guilty of using these conferences as an opportunity for a little no-strings-attached action, but this was Izuku. Who very much didn't seem like the type for a one night stand, and was entirely too young for him besides. Not to mention Shouta would fucking murder him for even considering it.
Whatever this was, it felt softer and stickier than his usual one-offs, and Izuku deserved better from him than, well, him . So he'd sleep on it, return to sanity, and that would be that.
Izuku reappeared from the bathroom and climbed into his nest, only to sit there for a moment with a tiny frown of consternation. "What do I do now?" he asked.
Hizashi did not laugh, because that would be mean. "You take a nap," he said.
Izuku wrinkled his nose adorably. "I know, I just mean that something feels a little... off?" His gaze swept his new nest, frown deepening. "Like something's missing."
Ah, the ever-annoying 'something is wrong with my nest but I don't know what' feeling. "You'll figure it out eventually," Hizashi said around a yawn. "Getting a nest right is a process."
Hizashi set his alarm, got comfortable, and just as he closed his eyes, Izuku spoke, soft and a little hesitant, "Thank you. For this."
"You're welcome," Hizashi replied, just as soft. "Now shut the fuck up and sleep before I smother you with your new pillows."
The toothless threat was met with a snorted giggle, and Hizashi smiled to himself as he settled in for a well-deserved nap.