Chapter Text
There was a loud ringing next to his head.
“’Zuku, answer it,” Shoto mumbled next to him.
“Don’t wanna,” Izuku snuggled closer to his husband. Since he’d lost his quirk all those years ago, Izuku had found out that he really liked sleep – especially when Shoto was right next to him.
Eri had offered to rewind him back to when he had his quirk after she had learned to control her quirk, but Izuku had declined. He didn’t want to have to rely on her if it happened again. Plus, he had gotten used to not having it.
He was happier without it.
There was some movement and a groan.
“Your brother,” Shoto shoved the phone into Izuku’s hand, laying back down, hand covering his face. “Your phone call.”
Grumbling something about ‘annoying brothers’, Izuku answered the still ringing phone.
“What.”
“Denki and I are about fifteen minutes away. You’re making breakfast for us.”
“What does he want,” Shoto asked, peeking out from under his hand.
“Food,” Izuku sighed. “Sleep, Toshi. Can’t you of all people respect that?”
“Can’t you respect the fact that we desire food that only you can provide,” Hitoshi laughed. “And I know for a fact that you’ve probably been sleeping for the last ten hours. It’s not like we had a patrol last night.”
“Hey, I have eleven years of missed sleep to catch up on.”
“And you’ve been saying that for the past nine.”
“And I will continue saying it.” Izuku groaned. “Can’t you wait, like, an hour?”
“Nope,” Hitoshi said. “And now you have ten minutes.”
“Mean,” Izuku grumbled, hearing chuckles on the other side of the line as he hung up, snuggling closer to Shoto.
“How long do we have?”
“Mm,” Izuku pulled his husband in for a kiss. “About ten minutes.”
“So long?” Came the reply.
“Sho?”
“Yes?”
Izuku leaned in like he was going to pull Shoto close again and whispered, “I call the bathroom first,” and before Shoto even had a chance to react, Izuku was out of their bed and running out of the room.
Shoto laughed, deep and raspy from just having woken up, sending a sheet of ice after Izuku. He heard a yelp from the hallway.
“Missed,” Izuku shouted back gleefully, slamming the bathroom door.
Shoto had just gotten out of the bathroom when Izuku darted in front of him, sprinting to the front door. Hitoshi and Denki had already walked in, Hitoshi carrying a bag of groceries to the kitchen.
“What was so important,” Shoto asked, “That you couldn’t give us more warning?”
“Nothing,” Hitoshi and Denki said, simultaneously.
“We just want food,” Denki explained.
“And you can’t make your own,” Izuku asked.
“Well, I guess you did just remodel your kitchen,” Denki grinned, allowing his electricity to spread out over his hands. “And since we’re already here, I guess I could go make something.”
That was enough to send Izuku running to the kitchen. “You’re not touching my brand new toaster, you monster. You’ve already fried like twenty of them!”
“Drama queen,” Hitoshi mumbled, smiling. “He’s only killed seven.”
“Same difference!” Came the cry.
The three of them followed Izuku to the kitchen, making sure to keep Denki away from Izuku’s precious toaster. Izuku had already started scrambling eggs and prepping other ingredients for omelets.
“So, how’s the kid,” Denki asked. “Hitoshi told me you had started training someone.”
“Oh, Sora. Yeah, he’s doing good. I have a pretty decent training regime for him. We’re meeting later to work on some parkour.” Izuku shook his head. “That kid and jumping. I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d think he was part flying squirrel or something.”
“Reminds me of someone else I know who enjoys jumping from tall places,” Hitoshi said, leaning on the counter.
“Shut up,” Izuku mumbled, starting on the first omelet. “That reminds me, though. I need to send in a recommendation form to UA.”
“You really think he’s that good,” Denki asked.
“Of course. I’m training him after all. Even without a quirk, he’ll be better than almost everyone there. Kota and Eri are planning on attending too. And since Nezu ditched that stupid ‘no quirkless hero students’ rule, kid’ll have no issue getting accepted.”
“He has been doing really well,” Shoto agreed. “He can hold his own in a fight, even against quirks. Wouldn’t surprise me if he makes Big Three.”
“Hah,” Izuku scoffed. “Sora will make Number 1 if I have anything to say about it. Okay,” Izuku said, looking around. “I know you two didn’t just come over here for food. Toshi cooks just as well as I do, better even. So spit it out.”
Denki looked over at Hitoshi. “Can I tell him already? It’s killing me.”
Hitoshi nodded, grinning, and looked at Izuku. “Have you had a chance to look at the popularity rankings yet?”
The ranking was something some blogger had created in an attempt to show the difference between the Hero Rankings and the public’s personal rankings.
“Not really since someone decided to demand food on short notice.” But Izuku pulled out his phone, looking up that morning’s list
Puppeteer was ranking tenth and Outlast was ranked-
“Ninth?” He looked up from his phone. “How the hell did we get ranked?” Izuku nearly shouted, looking around the table, first at Shoto, then Denki, before resting on Hitoshi. “We’re underground heroes! We don’t get ranked!”
“And vigilantes don’t get their own merch lines, either,” Shouto murmured, pulling Izuku close. “Especially when they’ve supposedly been dead for nine years. Apparently, some people just like you.”
“For some strange reason,” Denki added, smirking.
Izuku threw a kitchen towel at him and looked at the rest of the rankings. Denki was the only one of them who hadn’t make top ten, but he was ranked sixteenth. Shoto, as usual, was ranked second, only after Bakugou.
“Hey, Mister Number Nine Hero,” Denki put a hand on Izuku’s shoulder, shocking him lightly. “This doesn’t mean you’re getting out of making us food. Chop chop.”