When Shouta finally comes home, he's not surprised to find the apartment quiet and dark, save for a hallway light. He's not surprised, but he's a little hurt anyways, even if he wouldn't admit it. He can see them in the morning, in the light of day, when they're all a little more aware, but he's been gone for three days on a stakeout with the police, and he's missed his family, selfishly wanted them to miss him just as much.
In the kitchen, there's a plate on the stove, covered with tinfoil and a note in Toshinori's slanted handwriting.
I know you're tired, but you never eat well on missions. Please eat before you come to bed.
Childishly, he doesn’t want to, but the end of the note reads We made your favorite! with a flower drawn in crayon in the corner that he knows must be Eri’s doing, so he peels the tinfoil off and picks at the stirfry. After a few bites, Toshinori’s cooking has managed to awaken his appetite, and he sticks the plate in the microwave. He eats about half the plate before his stomach protests and he has to set it aside.
Not even Hiro comes to greet him with demands for food and attention as he wanders from the kitchen, a baffling and nearly, equally as insulting phenomenon, until he comes upon the living room. Eri is asleep under the kotatsu, Hiro curled beside her. It’s hard to see with only the light from the hall illuminating his way, but he’s almost positive his yellow sleeping bag is serving as a pillow for the two.
He steps around them, carefully, to turn on a lamp. There’s a half-drank cup of tea sitting on the table, beside a ‘Welcome home Papa!’ drawing from Eri, featuring their little family in her stick-figure renderings. Hiro is drawn as large as Eri herself, and Toshinori is as tall as the page, his wild yellow hair blending with the words at the top. Shouta smiles to himself, resisting the urge to tuck the drawing into his jumpsuit and hoard it for himself before Eri even has the chance to actually give it to him.
Toshinori is asleep on the couch, his socked feet hanging off the edge, despite it being bad for his back, and despite the numerous times Shouta has told him to stop napping there. His reading glasses are crooked, and nearly falling off the tip of his nose. Shaking his head, Shouta carefully pulls the glasses from his face, folding them and placing them on the table. And that’s all it takes for Toshinori to stir, shifting with a quiet groan and blinking frantically against the light. He reaches to push up his glasses, nearly poking himself in the eye in the process.
Shouta snorts, and Toshinori sits up, finally seeing him standing besides the couch.
“Oh Shouta, welcome home, love.” Toshinori hides a yawn behind his hand, glancing around the room. The clock under the television reads 2:34 a.m. “We wanted to stay up and wait for you, but she was fast asleep by 11, and well, these late night’s aren’t as easy as they used to be.”
There are braids in Toshinori’s bangs, and the rest of his hair is corralled into three ponytails, save for a small section Shouta suspects escaped a fourth ponytail at some point during his sleep. There’s glitter eyeshadow on his face, not just his eyes but his cheeks as well, from a silly little makeup kit Mirio’s friends got Eri for her birthday. And he keeps yawning, giving up trying to cover it after the third. He looks absolutely ridiculous in a faded, baggy All Might t-shirt, sweatpants, and Present Mic themed socks.
Shouta absolutely loves him.
“Shouta?” Toshinori asks when Shouta doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move from his place by the couch. “Is everything alright?”
“You have no idea how much I want you right now.”
Toshinori’s eyes widen before the words register and he starts laughing. It starts with a soft chuckle, but quickly grows into something larger, louder, and eventually Shouta all but crawls into his lap, silencing him with a kiss.
“Hush, you ridiculous old man, before you wake her.” Shouta mutters against his lips, settling more fully onto Toshinori’s lap when Toshi’s hands come to rest on his hips.
Toshinori doesn’t even try to hide his wide grin as he chases after Shouta for another kiss. “Oh I’m the ridiculous one here?”
Shouta snorts. “Always.”
Toshinori accepts it without any more questions. He settles against the back of the couch, easily taking Shouta’s warm weight against his chest.
How far they’ve come in the past few years.
Shouta closes his eyes, savoring Toshinori’s warmth, the feel of his heartbeat under him, and the gentle trail of his fingers up and down his back.
“You know you’re going to have glitter all over, right?” he asks suddenly.
Toshinori chuckles again. “As are you, love, lying against me like this.”
“Should I move?”
Toshinori’s arms tighten around him ever so slightly. “Absolutely not.”
Shouta hides a smile against his throat. “I missed this, missed you both.”
“We missed you too,” Toshinori presses a kiss to the top of his head and Shouta’s toes curl. He was serious before, when Toshinori woke up, but just being like this together is enough, too. How could it not be, when he feels so warm, so loved? “So much.”