"Hisami, it's time for bed," Deku says, his voice low and authoritative. Hisami is sugared up and high on the prospect of Christmas morning, and so, obviously they've been trying to wrangle him to bed for over an hour.

"Papa's got his glasses on, so he means business!" Hisami mocks and giggles and jumps on the couch in the living room. Katsuki does a horrible job of keeping his laughter at bay. That only serves to make Hisami even less inclined to sleep, and Deku gives him a pointed glare when Hisami isn't looking.

He looks so old with his glasses and his tired, stern expression. This is the most time they've spent together in two months, and it clearly wears on Deku. Katsuki sighs.

"That's right, twerp. We both mean business. We're all sleepy, and Santa won't come if you're still awake."

"I'm not twerp! I'm a good Bubba."

"Oh, yeah? Prove it. Pajamas on and teeth brushed. Hop to it."

Hisami pouts, but he still climbs the stairs, babbling to himself about being a good boy. Deku smiles as he watches him go, and then he turns it on Katsuki.

"You're getting good at this."

"Doesn't feel like it. Feels like most of the time, he walks all over me and I say thank you."

"I can relate. Really, though, you're good with him. He listens to you."

"How the hell did he get to be so much like me?"

"I guess stubbornness is an inherited trait." Deku smirks, his glasses catching the light. Katsuki rolls his eyes.

"He gets that from you."

"Oh, please! I'm an angel."

"You know, Hisami said the same thing to me the first time I cooked at your apartment. Maybe being delusional runs in the family, too."

Deku laughs goodnaturedly, and Katsuki feels the tense energy he's been lugging around all day melt away. This is good, this lighthearted banter. Katsuki thinks they could both talk about their kid for hours. He just wishes they could talk about other things so casually.

"So, there are two extra beds upstairs. I have no doubt Hisami will demand he sleeps with you."

"That okay with you?"

"Of course, Kacchan," Deku says evenly. Katsuki assesses him, looking for any sign of jealousy. He finds nothing, so Katsuki lets himself preen at the thought of being the temporary favorite.

"Alright. Let's go make sure our stubborn, little angel is actually getting ready for bed."

They walk up the stairs together, and it feels so familial and domestic that Katsuki's heart seizes in his chest. They can do this.

Katsuki wakes before the sun because Hisami is patting his cheek. He groans. They stayed up until almost midnight, getting everything ready for Christmas morning. Deku offered to do it himself, but Katsuki wanted to be included. He spent the evening watching Deku like a hawk, committing every small detail to memory. They don't wrap Santa presents, they only take a few bites out of the Santa cookies, and the stockings are filled to the brim with candy. Deku judiciously set the coffee maker to start at five am, and told him to prepare to be exhausted before they said goodnight and went to their respective bedrooms.

"Papa, it's present time."

"It's sleep time."

"It's Christmas! Get up!" Hisami shakes his shoulders, bouncing up and down on the bed. Katsuki groans again and pries open his crusty eyes.

"Alright, alright. I'm up. Merry Christmas, Bubba."

"Merry Christmas. I love you, Papa."

Katsuki's heart flutters. Despite his complaints, his rocky relationship with Deku, and the impending doom of spending the day with his parents, Katsuki's excited for what the day will bring. The first of many holidays with his wonderful son. How did he get so lucky?

Deku, he thinks, his mind supplying him with a reluctant, albeit honest answer.

"Enough to let me sleep?"

"No," he squeals, flopping over Katsuki's prone body to wiggle off the bed. As if on cue, Deku knocks lightly on the half-open door.

"I thought I heard a little gremlin. Merry Christmas, Button. You giving Kacchan a hard time?"

"Merry Christmas! Where's Obaasan?" Hisami bounces around in his new Frostfire footie pajamas, yanking on Deku's pant leg.

"Be careful, I have hot coffee. I don't want to spill."

Katsuki perks up at the mention of coffee, and he immediately hones in on the novelty All Might mug in Deku's hand.

"Obaasan is downstairs. Go tell her Merry Christmas."

Hisami whirls away like the human disaster he is, leaving him alone with Deku. He sits up in bed, and Deku offers him a mug of sweet, life giving coffee. He takes it with an almost reverent thanks, sweeping his legs out from under the blankets. Deku's more than a little pink in the cheeks, eyeing the ceiling. That's when Katsuki remembers he's in nothing but a pair of boxers.

"Um, you should get dressed. Hurry because Hisami won't want to wait and I'm sure you won't want to miss it."

"Ah, right. I'll be down in a second."

Deku squeaks out an mhmm and leaves, closing the door behind him. Katsuki, blushing and awkward, hastens to get dressed in the Ground Zero pajama set Auntie Inko bought him. It's a tradition to wear their new pajamas on Christmas morning, and who's he to stand in the way of that?

Izuku thinks he may have had an aneurysm. Is he dead? Did he ascend to a higher plane of existence? He tries to remember what life was like before he saw Kacchan's half-naked body.

"Merry Christmas to me," he mutters, completely unable to keep his thoughts from spilling out of his mouth.

"What was that, nerd?" Kacchan asks, coming down the stairs—fully dressed, unfortunately. Izuku jolts and slaps a hand over his mouth. Hisami intervenes before Izuku can embarrass himself.

"Papa! Your jammies look dumb."

"Hisami, you picked those out for him," Auntie Inko says, a soft smile playing across her face.

"No, I picked the Frostfire ones. Papa wouldn't let me get them."

"Thank god for that," Kacchan grumbles under his breath, and Izuku chuckles. Kacchan smiles at him, and it's not his usual cocky smirk. Maybe it's because Kacchan is tired, a little mussed from sleep, and in his own fluffy merch, but he looks incredibly soft to Izuku. Izuku could heat the whole house, he blushes so violently. He looks away.

"Alright, Hisami. What did Santa bring you?" His mother, bless her, pipes up. From there, there's no time for awkward silences or surreptitious looks. All eyes are on Hisami as he tears through his gifts, inspecting every single one. He only cries three times, a new record, and he spends the morning playing with his new Lego sets and forcing Kacchan to snuggle his new plushies. Izuku feels warm and light and maybe a little hopeful. Maybe if he stops fighting this, everything will fall into place.