Okay! The wait for the 2nd half of the dinner party is over! Thank you for spending some of your precious time reading my story, and thank you also for every kudo, bookmark, subscription, and comment! It really makes my day to know your reactions to my story. I hope you enjoy this next installment!

Chapter 10: Unexpected Treasures

Bakugou was sitting across the room talking with his mother, his mother-in-law, and Rei. Happy red eyes lifted to Shouto's face for a moment and Bakugou nodded. Shouto nodded back, pleased to see Bakugou enjoying himself.

Shouto turned back to the sink, but Fuyumi was already there, clearing the last of the dishes he'd set to soak. "Can I help with the stir-fry?" She asked the room at large.

"You're our guest, Fuyumi-san," Midoriya said. "You don't need to cook."

Fuyumi shrugged. "I like to be helpful and," she looked to Bakugou, "I've heard praise for your cooking before but never had the chance to taste it. I was hoping you would talk about techniques."

Bakugou rose from his place on the sofa. "Sure, I'll talk techniques." The corner of his mouth kicked into a wicked curve. "If you think you can keep up."

"I'll do my best," Fuyumi promised.

"Have we created a monster?" Midoriya asked, stepping up to Shouto's elbow.

"We're never going to get the kitchen back," Shouto observed solemnly.

Midoriya grinned at him sidelong. "We might get an endless supply of snacks out of the deal."

It was impossible not to smile back.

Shouto didn't really like to socialize, but he knew how. He started making the rounds of their small gathering and found it wasn't the chore it normally was. Of course he was comfortable around his mother, and it was no hardship to listen to Midoriya or Inko-san. Masaru-san seemed relatively even tempered with a calm smile. The only person who appeared to be struggling was Mitsuki-san. Her posture was rigid, her smiles tight, and her frowns quick but frequent. Her most recent frown was directed into the depths of her cup of tea. She craned her neck to look towards the kitchen. "Is there more hot water?"

There was plenty of reserves in the kettle and more warm tea in the pot on the dining room table. Fuyumi and Bakugou were still talking animatedly in the kitchen, taking turns stirring the vegetables and shrimp in the wok. Everything would be ready in a few minutes, and Shouto didn't want them disturbed.

"I can help with that."

Mitsuki's cup was mostly full. It was easy to slot his fingers around it and concentrate until steam started to curl from the liquid inside.

"That's quite the party trick," Mitsuki-san observed.

"It's more than a party trick!" Shouto glanced between Midoriya, who was a few steps away, and Bakugou who stood in the kitchen area with two steaming bowls in his hands. They had both spoken in Shouto's defense simultaneously.

Bakugou took a few steps forward. "Shouto's been a lot of help, Ma. We're lucky he's here." That half toothy, half cocky grin was directed at Shouto now, and a considerable amount of heat was creeping up the back of Shouto's neck.

"Thank you."

Shouto turned and saw Mitsuki-san's fingers clench and unclench around her cup of tea. "Thank you for helping my boy." She lifted her gaze to Bakugou's face. "I'm glad you're feeling better."

"I don't give up easy." Bakugou lifted the bowls in his hands as he glanced around the room. "Dinner's ready."

"I'll help you serve," Shouto offered, standing up.

"Like I have a choice?" Bakugou nudged him as they passed one another. "Thanks, Icy Hot."

Shouto took two bowls from Fuyumi and passed them to Midoriya, who was waiting with outstretched hands when Shouto turned around. Bakugou had actually taken his seat at the table without any further complaint. The lines of his posture didn't look particularly tense, but Bakugou tended to show pain first in the tightness around his eyes and mouth, which Shouto couldn't see from this angle.

"Ready for the next ones?"

Shouto turned and accepted two more bowls from Fuyumi.

When everyone was seated, Shouto was to Bakugou's left, and Midoriya was to Bakugou's right. There was no easy way to press his hand over Bakugou's injury without attracting attention. Shouto slipped a crunchy, flavorful green bean between his lips and chewed absently.

"You're staring."

Shouto lifted his eyes past a wicked smirk and up into crinkled red eyes that held amusement as well as pain. "Do you need a healing?"

"Can't wait to get your hands back on me?"

"Kacchan!"

"I just want to do my job."

It's the only thing I want that I can put words to.

Bakugou lifted his eyebrows. "Well, I'm not stopping you."

Biting back a huff, Shouto reached his arm around Bakugou's back, settling his forearm snuggly around Bakugou's waist until his fingertips reached the edge of Bakugou's injury. The bandages were getting progressively less bulky, easing access. Shouto activated his quirk and Bakugou's sigh tickled the soft hair across the back of Shouto's neck.

"Thanks." The crimson eyes that often held so much anger and aggression were looking at Shouto with a warmth and focus that was dizzying.

"Anytime."

Fingertips pressed to the back of Shouto's hand for a moment and he recognized Midoriya's touch. They smiled at each other over Bakugou's shoulder.

"How is Katsuki's healing going?" That was Mitsuki-san. When Shouto looked over at her she was frowning. "You're not pushing yourself too hard are you? You can't risk damaging yourself in a way that won't heal properly; it'll hurt your hero rating."

"No, Ma," Bakugou sighed.

"He's doing really well," Shouto replied. "Right now most of my healing is to help him recover from swelling and the aches of rebuilding muscle. Normally I wouldn't be working with a patient so intensely at this stage because he can walk with only minor assistance when he chooses to use his cane." The last part was directed at the side of Bakugou's head, but the blonde wouldn't turn and make eye contact.

"If a villain shows up, I'll beat them with it."

Smiles and soft chuckles rounded the table in addition to a soft, "Kacchan!" from Midoriya.

"Because our goal is to move Bakugou into physical therapy directed at the pro hero level, I'm going to continue working closely with him for a little while longer. When the pain and inflammation are well managed with over-the-counter medication and ice packs I'll be able to return to hospital work.

"It'll be another month until I can return to pro hero work full time," Bakugou grumbled.

"Another month and a half if you don't push it," Shouto countered.

A growling sigh pushed between Bakugou's teeth, but he didn't protest. "It looks like you're on your own to take down Wrench, Deku."

"I don't know about that, Kacchan." Midoriya trailed his chopsticks through sauced vegetables.

"Are you allowed to tell us how the case is going?" Fuyumi asked. "If you can't I understand, and I'd be very interested to hear what's happening if you can share."

"That's just it. There's nothing to share. We haven't been able to find any trace of Wrench..." Midoriya's Adam's apple bobbed in his throat, "or Kazue-san."

Inko-san reached across the table to hold her son's hand. "You're going to find that boy, Izuku. I'm sure of it."

"It sure as hell didn't look like he wanted to be found," Mitsuki-san countered. "He was picking civilians to pieces at the financial district."

"He was," Midoriya agreed, cutting off his mother, who looked like she'd been about to inject something sympathetic. "He was so chaotic the way he used his quirk. He's untrained, but he's also hurt and, I think, confused."

"The media won't see it that way," Masaru-san said.

"No shit," Bakugou agreed. He flashed his husband a guilty look. "Sorry Deku, you know they won't."

"That's just the problem, though. That kind of us or them thinking is driving him to Wrench; it might have been part of what brought Wrench where he is today. They both have things to account for, but ostracizing someone because they're different or in pain is feeding villain culture. The media sees a villain in training, but when we fought all I saw was a scared kid." Midoriya closed his eyes and drew in a steadying breath. "Sorry. I know this isn't exactly good dinner conversation."

"I wish half the parents of the kids I worked with had your empathy, Izuku-san," Fuyumi said. "Don't let the pressure of being a pro hero convince you that's a bad thing."

"Thank you, Fuyumi-san."

Rei peered around her daughter to meet Midoriya's eyes. "If you ever want to branch out from your pro hero work, Izuku-san, I think you'd enjoy working with the Freedom Program."

Midoriya's chopsticks dangled in a loose grip while his fingers tapped rhythmically at the edge of his lips. "I think I've heard of them before, but I'm not sure."

"That's the program for first time offenders, right?" Bakugou asked.

Rei nodded. "Exactly. It's focus is to connect people with appropriate counseling, resources, career training, and other similar services. After I've completed my probation period at the hospital I'm going to ask for a transfer into the Freedom Program's medical department."

"That's awesome, Rei-san!" Midoriya enthused.

"Very admirable," Masaru-san agreed.

Inko-san turned to beam at Rei. "You'll be a fantastic nurse for them!"

"You'll be able to help so many people," Fuyumi sighed. "How long have you been thinking of this, mom?"

"The last three months. I've been watching the news about the Freedom Program closely. Nothing is perfect, but I wanted to make sure they were honoring their mission. For the moment, that's exactly what they're doing."

"Is the Freedom Program taking referrals right now?" Midoriya asked. "If it's a good fit for Kazue-san I might be able to advocate for him to be placed there."

"I'll send you some of the information I've gathered," Rei offered. "If you want to learn more I can connect you to the head of the program. I reached out to them when I first heard of the Freedom Project and we've been exchanging e-mails for a few months now. I'm sure she'd be honored to talk to you."

"Thank you, Rei-san. I'd really appreciate it." Midoriya agreed. "The last thing Kazue needs is to rot in a jail cell. I don't want to watch him develop into a villain if I can help it."

"Trying to save the world by loving it," Bakugou murmured only just loud enough that Shouto could hear.

"It's oddly compelling," Shouto whispered back.

"Right? I keep waiting for the day I help him on a raid, and I find him weaving friendship bracelets with the villains!"

Shouto's shoulders trembled with repressed laughter. He was pressed directly against Bakugou's side, and Midoriya must have felt or seen the movement. He leaned across his plate to peer at his husband and Shouto. "What are you two talking about?"

"Your compulsive need to shower the world with love and affection." Bakugou reached up and ruffled Midoriya's hair. "It's fucking adorable."

Midoriya squirmed away from Bakugou's hand, then snatched it and held it with his own. An ache spread in Shouto's chest as he watched them, but it wasn't the sharp thrashing of his unfulfilled soulmate bond. It wasn't even jealousy. It felt…good to watched Bakugou and Midoriya being affectionate with each other. It probably should have felt strange to be holding Bakugou in his arms while it happened…but it didn't. That felt good too. Maybe his social skills were more deteriorated than he thought…

"Okay, I think it's time for you to take a break and focus on eating." Strong, calloused fingers closed around Shouto's right hand and pulled it away from Bakugou's injury. "You've taken my pain from a six to a four. Time to power-down Icy Hot. You've barely touched your dinner."

"I'm glad you're feeling better." Shouto unwrapped his arm from around Bakugou's side and adjusted his seat to allow some room between them. He was reaching for another Takoyaki when Bakugou grabbed his hand again, pressing his thumb firmly against Shouto's palm.

"You never take the time to warm up first, geez."

Shouto was capable of dissipating the frost coating his hand and wrist, but Bakugou was right, he rarely stopped to think about it unless it was important for his patients. He didn't need the careful almost massage Bakugou was rubbing into his hand, but Shouto didn't want to stop him. Instead, he slipped another mouthful of stir fry between his lips and basked in the burst of warmth that shot through him when Bakugou smiled at him.

"Did the mosquitos get to you, Izuku-san?" Mitsuki-san asked, gesturing across the table at Midoriya. "You're going to hurt yourself if you keep scratching your wrist like that."

"Huh?" Midoriya glanced down at his hands and pulled them apart. "Oh, sorry."

The tender skin of his wrist was red and a little swollen, but Shouto couldn't see any bite mark. Perhaps it was a reaction to the humidity? Shouto's hand twitched, but Bakugou tightened his hold on it, refusing to release it. "Don't even think about it, Icy Hot."

"You don't have to jump at every ache and pain, Todoroki." Midoriya was smiling at him over Bakugou's shoulder. "You need to take care of yourself too."

"I have some antihistamine cream in my purse," Mitsuki-san offered.

"Thank you." Midoriya accepted the small tube she offered, dabbed some on his wrist, and rubbed the wrists of both hands together.

"Anytime," Mitsuki-san replied. "Pro heroes gotta take care of their bodies, right?"

"I do my best," Midoriya replied

"Says the person who threw out their back five days ago."

Midoriya eyed his husband's abdomen meaningfully, then slowly dragged his eyes up to Bakugou's face. "I'm sorry, was getting blown up more interesting?"

"Bakugou, Midoriya, it's rude to fight at the dinner table," Inko-san scolded.

"Fiiine," Bakugou grumbled.

"Kacchan, listen to Todoroki. He's helping take care of you."

"He's my healer, Deku, not my life coach."

"Why aren't you boys on a first name basis?"

Three sets of eyes turned back to Mitsuki-san. Midoriya was the first one to speak.

"Sorry?"

"You all went to school together, right? I only ever saw you during the sports festival," she gestured to Shouto, "but I heard about you all the time. And now you're together again, you've known each other for longer than any of us," she gestured around the table, "but you're still only using last names. You seem comfortable together. Am I missing something?"

Midoriya, Bakugou, and Shouto exchanged a series of looks.

"I guess I never really thought about it," Midoriya admitted.

"I call him Icy Hot; doesn't that count?"

"Yes, Katsuki. I know you like him," Mitsuki-san waved the air dismissively, "You only give stupid nicknames to people you're fond of, like Shitty Hair and Pikachu. I wasn't questioning whether or not you got along, that's obvious; I was just curious if there was a specific reason or if it was an arrangement you came up with to remind yourself of professional boundaries after Shouto-san moved in."

Professional boundaries. A good portion of those had fled the house in mortification the night they all shared a bed.

"Now that you mention it, it does sound kind of silly." Midoriya once again leaned forward and caught Shouto's eye over Bakugou's shoulder. "I'm sorry I didn't say this sooner. You can call me Izuku if you want."

Wide green eyes drew Shouto in and he made the next in a long series of bad decisions. "Thank you… Izuku-san."

The corner of Izuku's mouth curled around his freckles. "You don't need to use honorifics, Todoroki."

Yes, yes he did. Shouto needed something to remind himself to keep his distance. This was temporary. At the end of the day he did not belong here. "You can call me Shouto."

"Should I use honorifics?"

The only obvious choice was to agree, so naturally Shouto shook his head no.

"Alright, Shouto."

An involuntary shiver rippled across Shouto's spine. He was in so, so much trouble.

"I'm still going to call you Icy Hot, but you can call me Katsuki if it's easier. Don't use honorifics."

"As you wish, Katsuki."

Bakugou grinned sidelong at him and lifted the last of his stir fry to his lips.

Conversation ebbed and flowed easily for the duration of the evening. Topics wandered from more philosophical topics like the Freedom Program and what it meant to give someone a second chance, to a scathing critique of the local newscaster's wardrobes from Mitsuki-san and Masaru-san. While the conversation was sometimes passionate and always interested, it was never tense. It felt natural, and Shouto let it roll over him like a balm. Even if he couldn't keep this…he wanted to keep the memory.

When Shouto stowed the last of the cutlery and utensils in the dishwasher the larger group had broken up into several smaller ones. Bakugou…Katsuki was sitting in a small cluster with his parents, and Izuku was speaking animatedly with Fuyumi and Inko-san.

The dango were warmer than they should be. Shouto forgot to put them in the fridge, but it was an easy fix. He slipped his hand under the container and was joined seconds later by his mother's hand. Shouto followed the line of her wrist up to her kind eyes.

"Nice and slow," she reminded him. "We don't want to freeze them."

"Thank you for coming tonight."

"Inko-san wasn't going to take no for an answer."

"No." Shouto's eyes strayed back to Izuku and his mother. "Neither of them would have. They're a force of nature."

"I'm glad you're happy, Shou." Cool fingers brushed over the sore spot in his chest like she could see his heart trembling. "I only wish it didn't have to hurt too."

Gratitude swelled in Shouto's chest and he had to close his eyes for a moment. He knew he deserved to be scolded, not comforted. There was no way this ended in anything but more heartbreak, and his mother would still be there for him when he was left with nothing but the shattered pieces of his foolish heart.

Their chilled hands brushed together under the dango plate.

"You're going to be amazing at the Freedom Program, Mom."

She smiled and leaned forward to press a kiss against his forehead. "Thank you, Shou."

Shouto took a breath and leaned into the moment. If he was going to batter his decimated heart with his hunger for stupidity, he was going to take every moment of respite he could. He flexed his fingers under the plate. "I think these are ready now." He started to pull his hand away, but Rei didn't move.

"I think he's having a migraine again." The words had barely been whispered. Shouto's gaze snapped to Izuku. His smile was tight at the edges, he was blinking rapidly and forcefully, and he was using the fingers of one hand to shield his eyes from the overhead lighting.

Cool fingers tightened on Shouto's arm when he began to move around the kitchen island. "He may not want to bring attention to it," Rei suggested. Her gaze flickered to the seating area around the coffee table where Bakugou sat with his parents. Another glance caught a particularly fond smile on Izuku's face as he watched his husband and Shouto's shoulders brushed against his mother as they sagged.

"You're right."

Rei squeezed Shouto's arm once before releasing it. "Serve the dango. I'll see if I can help."

Shouto lifted the plate, tracking his mother's movements across the room with his eyes. He dimmed the lights by ten percent when he passed the switch. When he settled the serving plate and smaller personal plates on the dining room table, Rei's fingers were buried deep in the green hair at the back of Izuku's neck.

Had he accepted Rei's help to stop her from worrying? Or because he was in too much pain to say no even if he wanted Bakugou to have time with his parents?

Shouto ate a dango and complimented Mitsuki-san as he was expected to do. They were well made, but he wasn't concentrating on the flavor when he chewed. Izuku was leaning into Rei's side now. He looked so tired…

Katsuki's eyes met Shouto's across the dining room table. His parents were chatting with each other a few feet away, but he was no longer listening. His hand moved across the wood of the table and when Shouto glanced down he saw three fingers draped over Katsuki's thumb, then a shift so that his hand was in a fist with his pinky raised. Katsuki's pointer finger and thumb stretched away from his curled fingers parallel from each other and Shouto recognized sign language. Every Pro hero knew at least the alphabet. It helped them communicate with the civilians they rescued and it was a fast, simple code when they needed to communicate with each other without making a noise.

Katsuki's fingers spelled out: M-I-G-R-A-I-N-E. Shouto nodded.

"I hate to cut this party short," Katsuki began, speaking loudly enough to address everyone in the room, "but my doctor," he looked pointedly at Shouto who deigned not to correct him, "is always telling me that I need to get more sleep while I'm healing. I'm hoping I can avoid a lecture tonight."

Understanding and gratitude flowed around the room as people began clearing away the last of the dishes and moving towards the exit. Shouto welcomed hugs from Fuyumi and Rei with an ease he hadn't felt in a long time. When Inko-san pulled him into a tight embrace he caught a snipit of Katsuki's parting works with his mother.

"It was really good to see you. You're doing great, Ma."

"I'm not and you know it! …but I'm trying." She patted his back roughly as she hugged him. "Thank you for letting me try. …I'm very proud of you."

Less than two minutes after Katsuki's announcement the last guest disappeared across the threshold and they were able to lock the door for the night.

"Are you feeling alright, Kacchan?" Izuku pressed himself between Shouto and Katsuki. He was holding his husband, but also leaning against Shouto's cool side.

"I should ask you that, Deku." Katsuki's fingers trailed up the curve of Izuku's neck and cupped his face. "Why didn't you tell me you had a migraine?"

The corner of Izuku's smile was sheepish. "You can tell?"

"I suspected. Shouto confirmed it for me."

Izuku turned, wincing slightly as he did. "Am I that obvious?"

"No, you hid it well."

"We know you, dumbass."

"I can help," Shouto offered, stretching his fingertips into the empty air between them.

"Ka-kacchan needs it more," Izuku protested, leaning back into Katsuki.

"This isn't up for debate, Deku." Katsuki pushed his husband into Shouto's waiting arms. Izuku frowned, then groaned softly as he pressed his forehead into the cool side of Shouto's neck.

"Wha-at's your pain level?" Izuku gasped the question in Katsuki's direction.

"I'm not about to throw up, like you are."

Shouto brushed the edge of a freckled temple. "Izuku, please let me help."

"huhng!" Izuku jerked away, stumbled, and landed hard across the edge of the sink with moments to spare.

Katsuki and Shouto were at Izuku's side, pressing against him to keep him from sinking to the floor as he emptied the contents of his stomach. Izuku gasped for air between violent spasms, and when it was finished he was shaking.

Shouto rinsed the sink and activated the garbage disposal, while Katsuki rubbed slow circles into Izuku's back.

"I'm going to get your medicine, and you're going to rest on the fucking sofa," Katsuki grumbled. Izuku groaned and reached for him, clutching the fabric of Katsuki's shirt until his knuckles turned white. "I'll be right back!" Katsuki insisted.

"Let me check your injury first." Shouto held up a hand to stop the protest that was already halfway out of Katsuki's mouth. "I'm not worried, but your husband is. If you let me check he might stop fighting us."

Izuku nodded weakly and groaned.

"Make it quick," Katsuki growled, lifting his shirt.

Shouto's fingers met familiar warm flesh. He breathed and he concentrated. "You're still in a good place. Tender, but that's to be expected." Shouto locked his heterochromatic eyes on impatient red ones. "Get an ice pack for yourself, and an over-the-counter pain killer. It'll help a little with the inflammation too. You'll be fine to wait for a full healing until morning."

"See, Deku? I'm all good." Katsuki pressed a kiss into his husband's brow. "Let us take care of you now." Katsuki pulled back and lifted his gaze back to Shouto. "Bring him to the sofa. I'll meet you there."

The transition from sink to sofa was wobbly, but probably felt longer and more arduous for Izuku. Shouto almost decided to lift Izuku into his arms, but there was too much risk that such sudden movement would only upset his stomach more.

Katsuki was quick. He settled with his back against the arm of the sofa, facing them. He pressed his fingers against Izuku's slightly parted lips. "This is your medicine. I won't take mine until you take yours." A flash of pink tongue swept across Katsuki's fingers. "Good," Katsuki purred. His fingers trailed through disordered green hair. "I'd give you some water, but we need to let the meds dissolve first."

Izuku's voice was rough and ragged. "Your meds?"

"I took them in the bathroom."

"…jerk."

"I brought a cool cloth for you. Lean back against Shouto; Sho, lean back against me. It's easier for him to rest at an angle when his migraines make him nauseous."

Shouto leaned back against Katsuki's chest and Izuku's weight shifted over him. It felt like Izuku wasn't so much laying down as he was allowing himself to be lain down. They shuffled until they were situated comfortably, and Katsuki lay a cool cloth across Izuku's brow and eyes.

"I'm going to turn out the lights," Katsuki announced. "Everyone good?"

"Your icepack?" Shouto asked.

"I've got it," Katsuki promised. He pulled Shouto's hand back and down until their fingers brushed a cool spot across Katsuki's abdomen. "I secured it in place with a thin layer of bandages."

"Only keep it on for twenty minutes," Shouto warned.

"Yes doctor."

"Don't fight…" Izuku's voice was breathy now, probably with exhaustion. His breathing was a little too quick and a little to jerky to be near sleep just yet.

"I know you're not a fan of heat for migraines, but I think I can use both sides of my quirk to help. Cool for the acute pain and heat to ease the tense muscles in your neck and back that are contributing to your pain. How does that sound?"

"…okay…"

"Just do it already."

Shouto positioned his hands and activated his quirk. The sigh that came from Izuku ran through him and possibly Katsuki as well. The energy seemed to downshift and Katsuki reached behind them to the light switch and let darkness sweep quickly and completely through the apartment. Quiet breathing and the weight and warmth of his companions grounded Shouto until his eyes adjusted to the dim light coming from the windows.

"We're not putting pressure on your wound?" Izuku mumbled.

"You're good, Icy Hot."

Katsuki lifted his arm and encircled Shouto and Izuku in one loose embrace. It was very…peaceful. Shouto hadn't felt this safe in years.

A long pull of air eased into Katsuki's lungs and when he released it he trailed his fingers across Shouto's arm and murmured, "Our own personal Icy Hot."

It was a silly, off-handed, affectionate insult. Shouto should have felt vaguely irritated or flattered, but the fondness in Katsuki's voice made him want to cry…

We've reached the end of another update. If you liked it, please come back and see what happens next week! I post every Friday afternoon/evening PST. Next week there might be a Wrench in the works… I hope to see you there!