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It was supposed to be the quarterly faculty meeting to discuss budget allocations, adjustments to the curriculum, updates on the off-campus training trips, and of course the imminent Sports Festival. All of those points were addressed in time but not before All Might was introduced as our future peer, to begin teaching at the start of the next school year.
Fantastic.
It solved the mystery as to why he'd been hanging around campus, his yellow suit a neon sign announcing his presence. If you didn't hear him coming from across the forum - which was all but impossible with his volume stuck at levels only Hizashi could emulate - you'd definitely see him. Nezu laid the pointless groundwork for a needless introduction. All Might enthusiastically thanked him and greeted the room, doling out appreciation in advance for welcoming him into our ranks, then waxed poetic about the last time he was on campus. Before I could roll my eyes or respond to Hizashi kicking me excitedly under the table, the meeting took a severe turn towards the absolute-discretion-required.
The untelevised battle was explained in better detail, confirming some of the rumors which had circulated through the pro hero circuit. The resulting injuries from said battle were described, to our collective horror - missing vital organs and a limit to his Quirk, which until now everyone had assumed was innate, tied to his massive physique and overwhelming power. We were told so we could understand the circumstances and respond appropriately if anything should happen on or off campus. It seemed fairly standard. Having full disclosure ensured we could form a united front in the event of an emergency, though it was a little excessive, considering. Surely, even with his horrific injury, All Might wouldn’t need such special care? After his surgeries, he’d continued on with his pro work for years and we’d been none the wiser.
Then he deactivated his Quirk.
It felt like a shift in my worldview, which was silly. The world was the same, his deeds in it as the Number One Hero were still valid. Somehow, though, it all felt different. The bombastic mountain of a man was now gangly and wasted away. Even his personality was subdued. His mannerisms were reserved, not flashy; his words were almost awkward, like he was suddenly unsure of his place in the meeting. There was something charming about this side of him, acting as if he was the civilian and we were the pros he looked up to with stars in his eyes. It wasn’t an act, nor was it patronizing. He genuinely seemed flattered to be among us.
The meeting continued from there with no further surprises except for one: while the topics were addressed, I noticed All Might looking at me. Maybe it was because I was the one person who wasn’t glancing his way first, or offering up commentary to catch him up on how we did things here. It must have been apparent I was the only one not over the moon about his presence, yet from my peripheral, I kept catching his attention gravitate towards me. Very peculiar.
When the meeting adjourned, Hizashi descended upon All Might like a biblical plague, throwing an arm around his narrow shoulders and exclaiming his excitement to have him as a fellow teacher. The others passed by, shaking his hand and offering their gratitude and condolences for the sacrifice which led to his condition. He accepted each word with grace and humility instead of loud laughter and cheesy catchphrases.
Normally, I would have been the first out the door, but Hizashi and I were going out for drinks with Nemuri, so I waited at the exit, arms and ankles crossed, wondering just how awful the press would be during the next school year, trying to catch a glimpse of our newest faculty member.
A few times, between exchanges with those waiting their turn, when Hizashi wasn’t yammering on as unofficial host orchestrating the meet and greet, All Might would cast yet more looks my way. This time, I returned the favor and blatantly looked him over.
His joints were angular where his oversized clothing didn’t blanket him. Sunken cheeks made his azure eyes seem adrift in the dark rings circling them. Anemia, probably. Definitely malnourishment, though his pallor held on valiantly to a seemingly healthy tan. His hair was a chaotic blossom of blonde even I, of all people, felt needed a brushing. And yet there was something appealing about him I couldn't quite put my finger on. Sure he was undeniably handsome when he was bulked up but I had a type, apparently, and it was centered around skinny blondes. It was too bad his personality was so exhausting.
The last of our peers were filing out, waving goodbye to All Might, when I heard the words which chilled me to my core:
“Hey, a few of us are going out for drinks! You should come, yo! Get to know your future coworkers!”
I was going to rip that stupid speaker off his neck and beat him with it.
“Oh? I wouldn’t want to impose!”
“Nonsense! The more the merrier! Right, Eraser?”
I stared at Hizashi, let the seconds drag out to make him uncomfortable, before glancing at All Might and shrugging. “It’s not a private function.”
“He’s just grumpy because he didn’t get his nap today.” Hizashi turned up his nose haughtily. “We’re just going to hit the locker room to ditch these duds for street clothes then it’s happy hour, baby!”
“No, really! I’ve got a lot to do before the new school year starts-“
He looped his arm through All Might’s and marched him towards the exit. “That’s a year away, my man! Come on. My treat!”
All Might still looked unsure, ruffling the hair at the back of his head as he loped along reluctantly. His eyes landed on mine, projecting something between an apology and resignation. “I suppose it would be rude to turn down such a generous offer.”
“Yeah!” Hizashi pumped his fist in the air. “Let’s rock and roll!”
I rolled my shoulders off the wall and headed down the hall ahead of them, trying to think of any excuse to leave early that I hadn’t used recently.
* * *
The bar wasn’t packed, it being relatively early on a weeknight, and we were able to nab our usual table. On a typical outing, I would be sitting alone, opposite Hizashi and Nemuri with my back to the wall, so when they inevitably got up to sing karaoke or dance or both simultaneously, I could watch without having to participate. Tonight, I was in my usual seat, but I wasn’t alone. The heretofore empty chair beside me, which always became a repository for Nemuri’s various purses or accessories under Hizashi’s jacket, was occupied by All Might.
The other two carried the conversation as we sipped on our first couple rounds of drinks. It wasn’t as bad as I thought. Without the theatrical laugh and constant stream of enthusiasm, he wasn’t the obnoxious company I’d expected him to be.
Baskets of fried snacks had made their way onto the table and we all picked at them except for All Might, who waved it off, citing his health. It was also his excuse for nursing the same beer for an hour and politely declining the offer to go up and sing.
“Are you sure? Mic here is so loud no one will hear you if you miss a note,” Nemuri wheedled. Her cheeks were flushed from the vodka crans she’d been sucking down.
“It’s true!” Hizashi nodded emphatically. “Plus, it’s karaoke. No one cares if you’re good or not!”
“No, I’m really more of a spectator, but please! Go enjoy yourselves!”
“But-“
“You heard the man!” Nemuri started dragging Hizashi backwards by his elbow. “No means no, Mic.”
He flapped a hand at us. Well, at one of us. “I’ll pick something in English! For you!”
All Might laughed as they made their way to the karaoke station and huddled over the digital display of song choices.
“They’re quite the pair, aren’t they?” He turned to me, smiling congenially.
“Hm.” I sipped my beer. “They’ve known each other a long time. We all have. But they feed off each other. Like a house fire.”
“So I see! It’s nice you’re all still close.” We watched the two of them push at each other, over who would go first, if I were to hazard a guess. “Are they together? I didn’t want to stick my foot in my mouth earlier by asking.”
Nemuri went to pinch Hizashi’s nipple and he danced away, but not quickly enough. His yelp momentarily filled the bar. I took another drink. “Sometimes.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you seeing anyone?”
The question seemed innocent, his expression was earnest. Why then did I feel like it wasn’t merely polite curiosity? “No. Are you?”
“No.” He smiled at the half-empty glass inside his entwined fingers. “Too busy keeping villains in check for a love life.”
“Uh huh. According to you, that’s about three hours out of your day. So what do you do with the other twenty one?”
“Oh, this and that!” He chortled. “At my age, the dating scene seems like a very different beast from when I was last in it. I’m content with a quiet night watching TV or reading a book.”
I snorted. “What, no needlepoint or knitting? Maybe some crochet in your rocking chair?”
His laugh was different this time, more genuine. His eyes crinkled with deep lines from a long life of smiling. “Maybe I’ll take up one of those for a new hobby!”
“And they say heroes never retire.”
“The lucky ones do.” His tone dissolved into something far less chipper. “Or maybe it’s the unlucky ones.”
From the small stage built at the other end of the bar, an American pop song began playing. Like a light switch being flipped, he brightened, turning his million-watt grin towards Hizashi who began singing, loudly but in key. Nemuri was crooning along beside him, her arm around his waist. All Might watched them with glee but there was something underneath. Something sad.
Retirement was being forced on him, by his health and the limitations of his Quirk. He’d put in a lot of good years, though, saved more people than some of the other top pros combined. Maybe he simply didn’t feel like he deserved the gentle decline into retirement by transitioning to teaching when too many in our line of work were cut down in their prime? And for how long he’d been at it, things must have felt very lonely at the top where he sat, unreachable, while those inspired by him died trying to achieve what he had so effortlessly.
Or seemingly so, anyway.
“Hey.”
He turned to me, grin still wide.
“UA is lucky to have you, you know.” I gave half a shrug. “Being a teacher is hard, especially when it comes to the headstrong kids who think they know better than their instructors, but if you’re going to inspire new generations of heroes, it’s better to do it where you can show them the right way to go about it.” I lifted my glass to gesture at him with it. “Or, you know, your way.”
He guffawed, delighted by my jab. His eyes were glittering as he leaned back in his chair to look at me. “So insensitive! But I appreciate your brand of honesty. It’s not often people do anything but compliment me when it comes to being a hero.”
“Must be rough,” I deadpanned. “But I admit you’ve done good and inspired good. I can drink to that.” I drained the last of my beer. “You want another drink? Mic’s paying, so don’t be shy.”
He chuckled. “No, thank you. One really is enough for me.”
“Hm.” I motioned to the bartender, who nodded and began pouring me a new one. “You know, I remember meeting you.”
“Oh?”
“I don’t mean All Might. You you. You were pretending to be All Might’s secretary or something like that.”
“I remember you as well.” He ducked his head slightly in embarrassment. “It wasn’t the most creative cover but it offered the best excuse for my hanging around scenes most civilians wouldn’t be allowed. Who would want to disappoint the Number One Hero by questioning his assistant?”
I nodded. “I remember thinking it was strange he would let such a vital employee run around in disheveled clothing. Now it makes sense.”
“I’m sure many people questioned All Might’s judgement on letting his staff dress so shabby!” He looked down at his overlarge white button up and baggy yellow pants. “It can’t be helped, unfortunately.”
“I’m surprised people didn’t assume you were dating All Might.”
Surprise took over his cheerful visage. “Why would you say that?”
The waitress dropped off my beer and removed the empty glasses. At the stage, Nemuri was launching into a love song solo while Hizashi stood in line to pick out his next selection.
“Well, All Might’s secretary was running around in clothes that obviously weren’t his size but definitely something his boss would wear.” I shrugged. “Seems like a short leap for a conspiracy theorist to think the two of you were involved.”
He laughed into his beer. “My team would have had a field day stifling that story! But they never had much to do in the scandal department.”
“Regular boy scout, huh?”
“Hardly! But I take my public image seriously, and the safety of the people I care about. If anyone I was seeing got hurt because of his association with me, I would never forgive myself.”
I did a mental double take.
His; not their, not her.
Interesting.
Maybe there was something to those glances in the meeting after all. Was he dropping a hint? Testing the water? Or just being comfortable enough to not care about me knowing this personal tidbit about him?
I’d have to follow suit to see.
“I can understand that. That’s why I’ve found dating other heroes is easiest. If I know he can take care of himself, I worry less that his association with me would become a liability for either of us. Plus, I don’t have to explain the odd hours.”
After taking a long drink, I looked over at All Might. He was smiling, because he almost always was, but this one was painted with a more seductive brush. “I can’t argue with you there. Other heroes understand the lifestyle.”
I pointed at him while still holding my beer. “But you went and signed up for teaching at UA. You think you don’t have time in your schedule for dating now. Wait until next year when you’re exhausted from babysitting all day and running around on patrol at night and on half your days off. You’ll be lucky to find your own bed let alone someone else’s.”
He hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know. If you’re not the only one keeping odd hours, I’m sure there’s someone who would be willing to wait up for you.”
“Yeah? And when exactly do you plan on finding that someone? During your one free period, or between grading papers all weekend? Or would you just have your team set up a blind date?”
“Oh, if my team were in charge of finding me a date, it would only end in disaster!” He leaned forward on his forearms. “And they wouldn’t even know where to begin with finding my type.”
It was strange, flirting with All Might. Not in million years would I have imagined having a drink with him, let alone dancing around what felt like the first authentic chemistry I’d had with someone in a very, very long time.
With an emboldening sip of beer, I asked, “So what is your type, All Might?”
“Oh, the stereotypical: tall. Dark. Handsome.”
“Doesn’t sound like your team would have a hard time with that criteria. Although, tall is relative when you’re, what-“ I glanced him over. “-seven foot? Seven-one?”
He laughed. “Point taken! How about someone who likes a quiet evening at home over club hopping?”
“Clubs are awfully crowded.” I set down my glass to focus on him.
His eyes were on mine, soft yet intense. “And someone who isn’t intimidated by my billboard rank or fame.”
“It really isn’t any better than a grade school popularity contest.” Something small and effervescent was tickling behind my ribs, and it wasn’t the beer.
His leg shifted slightly so our knees brushed together. “Someone who isn’t afraid to speak their mind. Who has their own sense of self, and isn’t just looking to be a kept man.”
“Autonomy is as important as equality in a relationship.” I swallowed at the lump forming in my throat.
“What about you, Eraser?” He was practically whispering but I heard him over the music and hubbub of the bar clear as a bell. “What’s your type?”
“You!” Hizashi slammed his open palms on the table before pointing at All Might. “Did you enjoy the song I picked for you?”
The spell was broken, shattered really, and I was horrified to feel a heated flush had taken up residence on my face. I knocked back a copious amount of beer to hide the blush I knew Hizashi would recognize as something more than the glow from alcohol if he noticed it.
All Might, on the other hand, recovered far faster than me. “I did! Your song choice was perfect, it felt just like I was in America again! You have a marvelous voice, Mic!”
“Always happy to please a listener!” He finished his drink, crunching on an ice cube. “You’ll love the next one, too!” He winked and spun neatly on his heel, practically skipping over to the bar for a refill.
Nemuri was now swaying on stage with a woman who was doing a not-terrible job of singing her way through a sappy classic. Looked like she made a new friend for the evening. Maybe one that would carry over into the morning, judging by how low her hand was sitting on the woman’s hip.
“I’m glad I came out tonight.”
I eyed All Might, wondering if that was a heartfelt sentiment or an intentional play on words. Knowing him, it was probably both. Inwardly, I scoffed at myself. Knowing him? I’d talked to him more in the past hour than I ever thought I would in my entire lifetime. Yet I was getting the impression I might actually be closer to knowing him than a lot of other people.
“Me too.”
* * *
We never fully recovered the magic of that moment as the night continued to unfold. There was something decidedly different to our conversation as it meandered around various topics, though, but it failed to gain traction. Due, in large part, to the fact that at any given moment Hizashi would be by for refreshment or a break while someone else took the stage. Nemuri came over with her new friend, Yuuki, who had a table of friends who were apparently dying to meet Midnight before abandoning us. Her laugh floated over periodically but I never really saw her again.
It wasn’t terribly late by the time I was ready to leave but the bar was filling up with a younger, louder crowd and my eyes were beginning to ache. All Might was too polite to say so but I could tell he had had his fill, too. I waded through the tables to find Hizashi, chatting with a man who had been a frequent singer tonight, and let him know we were heading out and the tab was all his. He groused how his offer to pay hadn’t actually included me but I pretended not to hear as I walked away.
All Might was still standing at the table, yellow jacket folded over his arm. When he saw me in the crowd, I jerked my head towards the door. We met outside in the mild spring evening.
“Thank you again for letting me join you guys tonight. I wasn’t expecting such a warm welcome to UA!”
“Technically, I didn’t let you do anything. Mic invited you.” I shoved my hands into my pockets. “But you’re welcome to join us anytime. It’s a pretty regular thing. It’s not like you’d be intruding or anything.”
He grinned but it was gentler than his usual one. “I might take you up on that once I’m settled into my new routine.”
There must always be something going on for him to attend to, with his hero work and health issues. “If you need a hand with any of the teaching stuff, let me know. I know it’s a year off but it can be overwhelming to start.”
He beamed down at me. “I’ll be sure to call on you if I need help with anything.”
I nodded. Social cues weren’t my forte but it felt enough like the conversation was dwindling off. My eyes hurt and I was tired of being in public. I waved a hand as I turned. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around campus. Have a good night.”
“Ah! You as well!” He called after me, voice sounding awkward. When I glanced back, he was already moving in the other direction. Hm.
It was only a few blocks to my apartment from the bar. It wasn’t a convenient coincidence. Hizashi and Nemuri knew if it was troublesome to get to, I would find excuses to avoid hanging out. Sometimes I still did, and they let me, because relaxing with them outside of work a couple times a month was better than never at all if they pushed me to that point.
I’d thought I’d reach that point tonight with the special guest tagging along. Boy, had I misjudged how the evening would go. And the wonders never ceased once they’d started. All Might was into men. Specifically into men like me, as it turned out; he knew how to give as good as he got in conversation, was unexpectedly self-aware, and so much more, not the least of which was how exotically attractive I found him once I was able to reconcile the new face to a familiar name. Had we met this way, just having drinks and chatting instead of in the line of duty as pro heroes or him posing as his own secretary, I would have considered asking him out.
So what was stopping me from doing just that now?
The winding stairs to my apartment creaked as I ascended them. It was true I didn’t agree with everything All Might did, but that was professionally, and who knew how much longer he could keep that up? His legacy would live on but with such a strict limit on his Quirk, his days as Number One would be over sooner rather than later. UA would gain a new full-time instructor and future generations would be better for it. There was a distinct possibility we would overlap in our classes and have plenty of opportunities to get to know each other better that way.
But did I want to wait that long? Take the risk someone else might come along and catch his eye? Interest was there for both of us, of that much I was certain. It’d be a waste to not at least explore the potential between us, physically or otherwise, before another suitor came along.
It was the beginning of the school week. If he wasn’t busy this weekend, maybe I’d invite him over. Right. More than likely, if I had the time to dissect the idea to death, I’d chicken out. I should text him now, see if he would like to continue where we’d left off at the bar before Hizashi interrupted.
It was easy to hit on someone when they were right in front of you, but when they weren’t and time passed, the doubting set in. What if he had had second thoughts? He might see the message and pretend not to have noticed, or decline my offer because texts were inherently impersonal and it would soften the blow. For all I knew, my window of opportunity might have already closed. I was atrocious at flirting, according to Hizashi. What if he hadn't picked up on my interest in the first place? I should have continued with the verbal foreplay by answering his question about what my type was, regardless of the constant interruptions. Could be he took it as me avoiding the subject because he wasn't my type and I was quietly rejecting his advances.
Fuck it.
I paused outside my door to take out my phone and scroll through the UA faculty directory. Thankfully, his information had already been added and it looked like it would be a couple of train stops or a quick cab ride to his place.
I was warm and fortified from the beers, buzzing with the kind of low-grade arousal from flirting all night that I knew wasn't going to subside. What I should do was head inside, jerk off in the shower, and catch up on the essays I needed to grade. What I was going to do was a hell of a risk but if it didn't pan out, I could always come back and do those other things anyway.
Optimistic despite having no concrete justification for it, I entered my apartment and took the time to clean myself up a bit, at least where it mattered if this mission was successful, grabbed a couple of condoms, and headed back out.
At this hour, it was easy enough to find a cab cruising for the late dinner crowds. Fifteen minutes later, I was buzzing the apartment intercom labeled ‘Yagi’.
It felt strange to think of him by any other name except All Might. It was the same fallacy as young kids who couldn’t think of their teachers as having first names or lives outside of the classroom. I knew better, obviously. I was a hero, but I was also Aizawa Shouta, who ran errands and did chores and lived a life outside of confronting villains as Eraser Head. It wasn’t quite the same thing as being All Might, though, was it? There was something about his achievements that made him seem untouched by the trappings of life’s basic activities.
“Yes?” The voice on the other end of the intercom wasn’t the booming trademark I still found myself expecting, even after spending the evening talking with him.
“It’s Aizawa.”
“Aizawa!” His tone brightened immediately. “Come on up!” The door buzzed and I pushed my way in. He was on the third floor. Unlike my apartment complex, his had an elevator and I took full advantage. I shoved my hands in my pockets and fiddled with the foil packets, wondering belatedly if this would play out like I hoped or if I was about to make things supremely awkward.
Too late to back out now.
His door was at the end of the hall because of course he landed himself a corner apartment. I knocked and returned my hand to my pocket.
The insulation at his place was also better than mine and I barely heard or felt his footsteps as he approached. A short series of locks were disengaged with the glide of metal on metal and a small chain rattling. It was an amusing thought, imagining the precautions he took when he was the Number One Hero dozens of times over. I pitied any burglars who attempted to break in but would pay good money to see their faces when they realized their mistake.
The door opened, revealing him in all his unassuming glory, lanky and slightly hunched and, of course, smiling. He was practically swimming in a plain t-shirt and sweat pants.
“Did I forget something at the bar?” He asked.
I shook my head.
“Oh. Then to what do I owe the pleasure of your company for a second time this evening?”
Here went nothing.
“I was hoping to cap off my night with a good lay, and unless I misjudged all that flirting at the bar, I was hoping you would be interested in the same.”
The blush hit him so hard I thought there actually might be something wrong. Then he began to cough wetly into a fist and I really began worrying. His other hand produced a handkerchief to replace his fist. A startling amount of scarlet was now on his lips, hand, and soaking into the cloth.
“Shit. Are you okay?”
He nodded, still coughing, and waved me into his apartment.
Everything was pretty much as I expected, now that I knew he wasn’t as garish in his real life as he was in his hero work. It was homey and simple, with sentimental trinkets and framed pictures on the walls and shelves. It smelled like fabric softener and old coffee.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” I asked again.
“Fine! Thank you.” He cleared his throat and wadded up the handkerchief before stuffing it into his pocket. “It happens sometimes. Pretty often, actually. It’s a side effect from my injury.”
“Seems like a pretty serious side effect.” The cough was subsiding but the presence of blood didn’t seem like it should be the trivial matter he was brushing it off as.
“Not really. I mean, I have things I can do to help it, but…“ He trailed off, looking mystified. “Did you really come here for a booty call?”
I shrugged. “Are you saying no?”
“No! I mean, no, I’m not saying no!” He looked like he’d confused himself and the inexplicable urge to smile briefly passed over me. “I’m just, ah, surprised, I guess.”
“I thought about texting first but decided to take a gamble. Odds seemed more in favor of a yes than not. Better still if I asked in person.”
“I see.”
I stepped confidently into his personal space. “So, All Might. If you’re not opposed, I’m going to kiss you now, and see where that takes us.”
He laughed. “I’m the exact opposite of opposed.”
“Good.”
I took the last step to bring us together. In the instant between stretching up to introduce my lips to his and closing my eyes, there was a shift in the air pressure and instead of the thin body I was expecting to press against, I found myself suddenly enveloped in muscular arms, drawing me against an expansive chest. The mouth on mine was as firm as I hoped, though, regardless of which form he was in.
I took the initiative to deepen the kiss, and at first he seemed hesitant. It was clear why, after he let me slide my tongue in against his. The lingering tang of blood wasn’t exactly a turn-on but it wasn’t anything new to me after years of taking a beating on patrol. When it was evident I wasn’t repulsed, he finally relaxed into it.
As I leaned in the rest of the way, to fully feel that enticing stature against mine, two arms scooped me up from under my thighs and lifted me until we were kissing at a level height. My legs didn’t quite reach around his barrel chest but I looped them as far as I could. Not that he needed any help supporting my weight with the kind of strength he had. I threaded my fingers through his ridiculous hair to the heat of his scalp beneath.
We eventually separated to catch our breath. I opened my eyes to find the wide, smiling visage I was far more accustomed to seeing than the gaunt one which had greeted me.
“Still not opposed?” I was a bit breathless.
“Still the exact opposite.” His grin widened.
Our mouths reunited in a frantic collision of lips and sharp click of teeth. I cupped the hinge of his jaw and adjusted the angle to how I liked it, imposing on his mouth to accommodate my tongue. It bought me a small moan from him and zero resistance. Apparently, he didn’t mind not being in total control. Delightful.
Like I was no more an inconvenience than a baby in his arms, he began walking us forward. My legs clutched harder out of reflex and a sudden gasp puffed over my face. Was it from excitement, or pain? The living room couch caught him as he sat on the middle seat. I settled on his lap, knees stretched over him to push into the cushions.
“Okay?” I asked, pausing my journey to kiss him from cheek to jaw.
“Better than fine!”
I wasn’t sure I believed him but he was kissing my neck, pulling at the collar of my shirt to access the top of my shoulder, and I wasn’t his keeper. If he said he was okay, I would take him at his word.
The sweatpants he wore left little to the imagination as it was, especially in this stature which stretched them to capacity, and the hard length of him was pushing insistently against the inside of my thigh. And he was impressively proportionate. I’d been with some men whose physical attributes presented a challenge when it came to intimacy, or at least a fair bit of compensation, yet I’d never found myself with someone who was just bigger in every possible way. Good thing I wasn’t so insecure as to compare our sizes.
With hands braced on his chest, I leaned out of range of his roving mouth. He seemed thoroughly dazed. It was a good look on him. Crossing my arms to grip the hem of my shirt, I yanked it over my head. My hair flopped down into my face.
“Here?” He asked dubiously but with a lilt of amusement.
“Here.” I confirmed. “Bedroom is too far away.”
He laughed and I could feel it tumbling though his chest. He truly did laugh with his entire body. “It really isn’t!”
“It is for for me.”
His hands stopped mine when I took the bottom of his shirt to draw it up. His smile was wavering at the corners. Oh. Right. His injury. If he wanted his shirt on, that was fine. I let go of the garment and shrugged to show I didn’t care before pushing myself off of him to stand.
I toed off my shoes while undoing my pants and shoved everything off in a single, jumbled pile. He watched me with a greedy sort of focus.
“The shirt can stay but these-“ I tucked my fingers into the band of his sweats and snapped them. “-have got to go.”
“Ah! Right!” He lifted his hips and together we drew off his pants. I swallowed thickly at the sight of him, half naked and even more generously endowed than I was led to believe moments ago. Long, powerful arms reached out and drew me onto his lap, where he welcomed me back with a kiss.
I canted forward to trap our erections between our bellies and began thrusting slowly to build friction. Careful not to do more than he was okay with, I bunched his shirt up enough to get it out of the way, so it was just skin on skin. It appeared he was fine with it, by the palm of a hand pressing to the base of my spine to draw me in closer, increasing the pressure between us. I drove upward harder, with more intention, my dick sliding along his from base to head.
It was hard to maintain a coordinated kiss with the distance I had to cover to feel every inch of him. The hand not helping keep us flush together wound across my back and gripped the nape of my neck while the still smiling mouth left soft nips on my shoulders and conscientiously low on my neck. Each breath we took was a push against the other, made nearly suffocating by our proximity and the sticky heat building up between us. It was perfect.
Except it wasn’t, not exactly.
I wanted more.
On the next downward pass, I leaned back. There was a tacky pull from where the first few drips from each of us had smeared. I couldn’t decide what it was I wanted to do next - blow him or let him blow me or jerk him off to watch every glorious stage of him unraveling. But he made his move first before I could land on a decision, rendering my choice moot.
His hand was large enough to engulf both of us with room to spare. He began stroking in earnest before I had the chance to wrap my hand over his. If he wanted to take charge in this, so be it. There were other things I could do to contribute, like thrust into his fist using his thick neck for support to bring me forward when his hand came down; his knuckles nudged my abdomen with each swift pass. Between breaths, I peppered the side of his throat with kisses.
“I know we haven’t discussed it yet,” he panted darkly in my ear. “And I’ll be happy to have you any way you’ll let me, but I would really like to be inside you right about now.”
Holy shit. My spine went to jelly and I sagged against him. “I don’t honestly know if I’ll last that long,” I groaned helplessly. Especially if he kept talking like that. With how long the necessary prep would be to handle someone his size, I’d be done well before I could take him.
“I could make it so you last that long.” He let himself slip free from his grip and circled his finger and thumb tightly around the base of my erection.
It was entirely possible a gut-twisting whimper fell from my lips.
“Just-” I spread my legs wider across the breadth of his lap. I wrenched the hand clutching my back around and sucked his finger into my mouth to coat it with as much spit as I could. It would have taken an absolute idiot to not get my drift and All Might was anything but. He hooked his finger to help gather as much as possible.
We both adjusted in uncoordinated movements for him to have easier access beneath me. He dipped in ever so slightly, not even the full tip of his finger, just toying with idea of actual penetration. I growled impatiently and tried to bear down but the bastard just pulled his hand away.
“This might be better in the bedroom,” he said, gliding his lips over mine and bumping our noses. “Where the bed is. And the lube.”
“Or we could finish what we started here instead of fussing about the details. The only place I’ll be leaving this couch for is home if you don’t put something inside me in the next ten seconds.”
“It’s like that, is it?” His chuckle was velvety and saturated with the kind of filthy promise I never would have imagined he was capable of. A violent shiver of desire cascaded down my body.
“Yeah. It’s like that.” My voice was disastrously hoarse.
Without telegraphing his intention, All Might twisted and stood, flipping me then dropping me onto my elbows and knees on the couch. Years of training had my body tensing to resist sudden action against it. This thing with him was new and my instincts weren’t acclimated to trusting him implicitly. It was a momentary struggle to cooperate with him positioning me against the armrest while he kneeled behind me.
A hand ran over my back, then down around my chest, and finally across my stomach where he slowed to trace his fingers through the sticky patches we’d left. “Is there anything you’re not comfortable with, Shouta?”
God, I’d never heard my name said that sensually before. “If you do something I don’t like, trust me. You’ll know. And you’ll stop.” I absolutely meant it as the threat it sounded like.
“Does that mean you’re giving me free rein on your body?” His hand gripped my dick firmly once more, massaging it with the pad of his thumb excruciatingly slow. “Until you say stop, of course.”
I took a steadying breath to gather my scattered thoughts. There was no way I would be able to look him in the eye and keep the ability to speak. I kept my gaze aimed at my white-knuckled grip on the armrest. “Yes, just stop stalling!”
He chuckled and placed a kiss to the small of my back. Then lower. Then he was spreading my ass and I felt a strong, probing tongue push into me. Fuck. I knew the very vocal moan tearing out of my throat was much too loud and undeniable proof he had the upper hand in terms of being the only one of us retaining his composure. In every sense, from physical to emotional, I felt exposed. He was barely getting started and I was undeniably at his mercy.
And very grateful I took the time to clean myself up before heading over here.
His tongue delved deep, seeking and pushing in a strangely prehensile way. The ring of his lips created a soft suction against my skin and acted like leverage for him to reach deeper. It was a far gentler stretch than a spit-slicked finger, that was for sure. And less intense, which would help me last longer. Based on the thoroughness of his exploration, this sort of foreplay was something he clearly prided himself on. Trust All Might to be good at literally everything he put his mind and body to.
Minutes passed in a glorious blur as his tongue moved in and out, over and around, spreading spit to keep the process comfortable. My racing heart had slowed but still felt like a heavy drumbeat behind my ribs. That is until, seamlessly, a thick finger joined his tongue and my pulse ratcheted right back up. Biting my bottom lip did absolutely nothing to stifle the moan pouring out of me.
After the digit eased in a few cautious times, it stayed inside and curled, twisting a little left and right until he found what he was looking for, announced unequivocally by my cry of pleasure. When the surge of euphoria passed, I could feel his wet lips against me smiling even as his tongue slid in again, moving alongside the careful finger.
“You don’t have to be so gentle, you know,” I rasped.
I was suddenly very cold where his face had been pressed. At least he hadn’t also taken his finger out. “Is that so?” He asked.
“You don’t need to take your time. I don’t mind a bit of pain.”
I could hear him lick his lips. It really shouldn’t have sounded as hot as it did but knowing he was tasting the most intimate parts of me did something electrifying to my gut. His finger never ceased it’s slow progression in and out of me.
“You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”
I grumbled in annoyance and dropped my forehead to the armrest in front of me.
“Words, Shouta,” he chuckled. The finger pushed in a little harder, rocking me forward slightly. That was more like it. “Do you want me to hurt you, or are you just impatient?”
“Both?” I huffed, tilting back to meet his forward press. He pulled away slightly, though, then stopped moving altogether. I swore and scowled over my shoulder at him. His face was flushed from being pressed to me, which made his smug grin all the brighter. And more infuriating. “Either get your fingers in me like you mean it, or hurry up with the prep work and get to screwing me properly. I don’t want to spend the entire evening with my face in the upholstery while you make out with my ass.”
The grin closed to a wide smirk. The finger curled again and my vision blurred as my elbows buckled and dropped me forward. “You get a little mouthy when you don’t get your way.”
I sucked air through my teeth. “And you’re purposefully being obtuse. I’m not into begging, so for the last time, would you please stop treating me like I’m made of glass?”
“Oh, that wasn’t my intention.” When he eased in a second finger, the burning sting of being stretched without proper lubrication beyond half dried saliva made me moan happily. His two fingers were bigger than at least a couple of the guys I’d been with. Hell, one of his fingers was bigger than my second boyfriend. “You have no idea how hard it is for me to not savor this. Savor you.”
“I’m a bit too impatient for that tonight. You can savor me all you want next time. Promise.” This time when I drove backwards, he didn’t pull away. In fact, he had stopped again. I turned again to tell him I was three seconds away from getting up and walking out of here, but the expression on his face stopped me. He looked-
-confused?
“What now?” I asked, exasperated.
“I thought- was thinking-“ The hand not knuckle deep inside me ran over my hip almost reverently. “Is this not a one-time thing?”
I contorted to see him better over my shoulder, up to where he was kneeling above me. What was he talking about? A few stray tendrils of hair slid over my face and I shook them away. I blinked. “What?”
“I thought you just wanted a quick lay to cap off your night.” He parroted my words but they sounded hollow. Was that how it sounded when I asked, or was this what he sounded like when he was unsure of himself?
“Yeah, I did, but I never said anything about it just being a one-time thing.”
A bizarre look of uncertainty flashed over his mouth as he swallowed self-consciously.
With a sigh, I reached around to indicate he should withdraw his fingers. He sat back and I could see by his flagging erection this was a bigger deal than it initially seemed. Great. Part of me wanted to crawl onto his lap and distract him to completion from whatever the hell this was. I knew better than that, though. Leaving also felt like a viable option for me but would undoubtedly make this strange turn of events worse for him.
I settled on my knees to face him, gesturing a hand in his direction. “Say whatever it is you thought this was that suddenly has you so insecure.”
His laughter was irritatingly false. “I’m not used to people being so blunt!” He tugged his shirt down to hide the tips of his scar; it covered a much larger area than I thought. I respected him enough to pretend I didn’t notice.
“Yeah, well. The sooner we clear the air, the sooner we can get back to it. Or the sooner I can get out of here. Whichever.” I shook off the last of my arousal to get all of my attention focused on him. My mind rallied but my body was slower to calm down.
“I apologize.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I really didn’t mean to ruin the mood!”
I waved him off. “It’s not entirely ruined yet. I’m more annoyed by how you keep beating around the bush.”
“Ah! Sorry for that, too! It’s just, most people only want to sleep with me to put a celebrity notch in their bedpost, or to brag to their friends; I’ve never actually had to have this conversation before and I’m not sure where to begin.”
I glared at him. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“No!” His hands flew up defensively. “Gracious, not at all! No, no, no!” He spoke in a rush. ”What I meant was once their intentions were obvious, I excused myself from their company, so there was never a need for any explanations. That’s all.”
“So, what, then? You only have one-night stands with people who aren’t cruising for fame?”
“Jeez, I’m really bungling this up! No, I’ve never had a one-night stand. With anyone. Even my team couldn’t spin that into a favorable light if it turned into a scandal.”
It’s true I had never heard a single verifiable rumor about All Might having a fling, or having any romantic attachments whatsoever over his lengthy career. I assumed it was because he had a well staffed team to hand out NDAs and settlements. Or that he only chose to bed fellow heroes who understood the need for total discretion. Had he really kept himself celibate, like the other half of the tabloid rumor mongers speculated?
“Let me get this straight. You’re not into one-night stands, but assumed that’s what I wanted when I showed up, and you let me in anyway.”
He looked like he wanted to disagree but couldn’t figure out how. His hands fidgeted. “The thing is, a lot of people have wanted to sleep with All Might, and I never took up any of the offers. I prefer partners who I can have an honest connection with, not fans who only know me from the news. But when people see Toshinori-“ He shrugged one massive shoulder. The action seemed to be one of defeat and was entirely foreign to see from him. “Let’s just say no one looks twice at a guy who could double as a science class skeleton. I’ve never been propositioned by someone who knew both sides of me and didn’t know what to think when you showed up and did just that. I knew it wasn’t for the story. But I also knew it couldn’t be because you wanted Toshinori. The only logical conclusion I could reach was you were looking for a night of strings-free sex with someone who wasn’t a friend or total stranger. No potential complications, as it were.”
I stared at him incredulously. Unbelievable. “And here I thought you were supposed to be some kind of genius.”
“What?” His face was perplexed.
“I can’t believe I have to say this to someone your age, but you can never assume what someone wants. You say I couldn’t want someone like Toshinori; I say you don’t get to tell me who I find attractive. Got it?”
I glared until he nodded.
“Who exactly did you think I was flirting with earlier? And who did you think I was coming here to be with? I wasn’t leading Toshinori on to get to All Might because, believe it or not, I’m well aware they’re the same person. And my choice certainly wasn’t about picking the least complicated partner, because we both know that isn’t the case if you’re involved.” I sighed. “Maybe I could have explained myself better too, but for what it’s worth at this point, I don’t typically have sex with someone once and leave it at that. It takes a few times to get the hang of a person, you know? If I’m here, it’s because I’m positive it isn’t going to be a one-time thing.”
“Sure. Logical.” Part of his smile returned in a couple tiny increments.
“However.” I adopted my instructor voice. “If I ever suspect you’re doing something for me again that you aren’t also going to enjoy, whatever this could turn into between us will be dead on arrival.” At the confused twitch of his eyebrows, I elaborated. “You were going to have a one-night stand with me because you thought it was what I wanted even though you don’t like them. Don’t do something like that for me again. Or anyone else, for that matter. It isn’t healthy.”
He looked decidedly cagey at my reprimand. “I see your point, and I’ll take it to heart, really, but in my defense there was a little more to my decision than just breaking my rule to make you happy.” He cleared his throat, which suspiciously sounded like covering up another cough. “I thought if this was my only chance to be with you, I’d rather have one night than none at all.”
I scoffed. That was somehow equal parts romantic and pathetic. And flattering in a way I wasn’t used to being at the receiving end of. “I know we don’t know each other that well but did it ever occur to you to just tell me you were interested in more than a fling before assuming all you’d get out of me was a single night?”
His laugh was conflicted. “And risk being rejected by the most intimidating instructor at UA and have to resign out of shame before I even started teaching? Even I’m not that brave!”
“You think I’d turn you down that callously? After all the flirting?”
“Your reputation of being, ah, brutally honest about your opinions precedes you. If it turned out I was imagining things at the bar, it didn’t seem like you’d hold back on rejecting me.”
Well, he probably wasn’t wrong. Still. Contrary to popular belief, I did have some tact. “You assume too much, you know that?”
“So I’m gathering,” he said with a small smile. “Besides, I distinctly recall doing most of the flirting.” I narrowed my eyes at his expression of feigned indignation. “You’re a hard man to read! And blatantly avoided answering my question about your type. And when you left so quickly after the bar, I thought that was that.”
“It's Mic's fault I wasn't able to answer. And if you still feel like you need an answer to the question, I might have seriously misjudged your intelligence.” His laughter plucked a small smile from me. “I’m very much looking forward to getting back to business but I’m going to need you to answer a few questions first. Depending on your answers, I’ll decide if I’m staying or not. Okay?”
He looked hopeful. “Seems fair.”
“Are you overtaxing yourself by activating your Quirk tonight?” I had no way of knowing how close he was to his limit today and wasn’t sure if it was too personal a question to ask outright.
“No. It was a quiet day.”
“Are you activating it now because you think I prefer it, or because you do? Or are you just more comfortable this way?”
The struggle to be honest was unmistakeable on his features. It’s a good thing he wasn’t as transparent when facing down villains or he’d never have made it to Number One. “It all kind of ties together. People prefer this body to my other one. How could I be comfortable if my natural state makes them uncomfortable?”
“As I said, you don’t get to make that call for anyone.” Now for the big one. “Would you have sex with me without activating your Quirk?”
His whole body seemed to slump at the question, like a dog when faced with a rolled up newspaper. It was obvious he wanted to say yes but deep rooted insecurities were preventing him from doing so. The physical side effects of his injury weren’t something he could help but he let them define him. It was such a jarring transition from the substantial physique everyone knew him for; the pinnacle of masculine health. His natural form was the exact opposite and I could understand how that led to his persistent self doubt about it. Understanding hardly meant I agreed with him, though.
I didn’t care at all which form he was in tonight. However, the part of me that couldn’t stop pushing people towards their greater potential needed to know if he would at least be willing to accept there were people out there who didn’t find him repulsive. Namely me. The fact he was hesitating was proof enough for now; I wasn’t so cruel as to force him into a situation he was anxious about. I just needed to know if it would ever be a possibility.
“I’m not asking you to do it. Just wondering if you would.”
“I’d want to.” It was the first time I’d ever heard him sound distraught. It was a little heartbreaking. “But I haven’t, ah- not since the surgeries.”
I thought back to the meeting. The surgeries were almost five years ago. “Haven’t had sex?”
He shook his head.
“That’s fine.” I shuffled forward and clambered onto his lap. I cupped his chiseled jaw in my palms. “To be clear, I am equally attracted to you in either form. They’re both you, and you’re why I’m here. Pick whichever makes you most comfortable and trust me when I say I’ll be satisfied with your choice. Emphasis on satisfied.” I leaned in a little closer. “Just make it quick and get back to doing what you were doing before I write this whole night off as a waste of time.”
He searched my face intently for a few moments. When it happened, the shift was abrupt. One minute, I was cushioned on mounds of firm thighs, the next, in a gust of steam, I was straddling the twin ridges of bony legs. His jaw under my hands was still chiseled but now, instead of broad and defined, it was narrow and tapered to a razor’s edge. His bangs draped over my wrists.
The vibrant contrast of his gaze, still glued to mine, was braced for a reaction. All he would get from me was honesty, and I’d meant what I said. I smiled and kissed him, close-mouthed. When he didn’t shy away, I kissed him again but with an open mouth. It was an enormous honor I was being given, a supreme amount of trust placed in my hands to accept or rebuff, and I tried to convey through the kiss how much it meant to me.
We parted for air, and I asked, “Anything else I need to know before we continue?”
“Ah, no, not really, except just be careful of my left side.”
“I can do that.” I nodded. “Will you stop being so careful with me?”
He grinned. “I can do that.” With less flair or surprise as before, he dropped me down onto the cushions, this time on my back. “But since we’ve already paused the proceedings, so to speak, I’m going to go grab that lube now. You don’t have to move a muscle. Unless you’d rather take this to the bedroom now?”
My face pinched in mild annoyance that the intermission wasn’t quite over yet. The urgency from before was all but gone so I shoved at him lightly in lieu of responding verbally. Smiling in acknowledgement, he jumped up and disappeared into the other room. If he had kept his Quirk activated, I wondered if he’d have just carried me to the bedroom and settled the issue that way. It would be a lie to say being effortlessly manhandled wasn’t nice. Despite his thinness, he hadn’t seemed to struggle getting me down on the couch, so maybe his looks were deceiving in more ways than one?
From the other room, I could hear him opening a drawer and sorting through it. I took myself in hand and began the process of getting hard again. No sense in wasting time, considering how much we’d already spent talking about stuff we should have hashed out in advance in the first place.
I steered my thoughts away from what was behind us now and focused on how good he had felt - under me, in me; of him having the power to do what he wanted but being more tender than over half of my previous lovers because he genuinely cared about his partner’s wellbeing. I bit back a gasp and kicked myself towards the armrest, in part to make room for when All Might returned, as well as ground myself from not getting too lost in the rapidly returning arousal.
It was more the thoughts that were threatening to tip me past the point of no return than my hand. If I let myself dwell on the potential meaning in that, I’d probably worry I was doing that thing where I fell harder for someone than I was aware of until it was too late. The mild concern was stowed in a box and punted to a dark corner of my mind to ignore until I felt like addressing it, which would probably be never.
“You know, I think I could enjoy myself just as well watching you get yourself off.”
I opened my eyes and looked at him, staring at me like he really would be content to spend the evening watching me. “I’d be jerking off at home if that’s what I wanted tonight.” I let my knees fall open in the clearest invitation possible. “Get over here, All Might.”
He lowered himself on top of me, overly mindful of positioning his narrow frame in the cradle of my thighs. “Toshinori,” he correctly gently.
“Toshinori.” I tried it out.
“Shouta.” The way my name sounded wrapped in his smile was very nice.
“We should have added this to our conversation earlier but I’m up to date on my physicals, and I’m clean, so if you are too, I’m fine with no condoms.”
His lopsided grin was hard to interpret. “It’s been too long since my last partner to mention without embarrassing myself and I go to the doctor almost weekly. I’m clean as a whistle.”
“Good. Because I like to feel everything.” I touched his shirt. “Everything I’m allowed to, that is.” Here was that look of guilt again. “Really, it’s fine. Keep it on. Just get to putting that lube to good use, hm?”
He smiled and kissed my forehead. The bottle was opened and a few stray drops landed on me, making my stomach twitch from the sudden coolness. When he had enough, he set the lube on the narrow table standing behind the sofa. I swiped the stray dribbles and used them to slick him up. He was still semi-hard, at least, and growing harder.
Between our height difference and position, I had to give up stroking him so he could finish prepping me. I hitched my left leg over his waist. My right linked with his arm to bend me back a little farther, and to prevent it from knocking against his bad side. Two wet fingers pushed back into me. It hurt a little, in the way I liked. Perhaps it was spending most of my life training and fighting but I needed a bit of discomfort to remind myself living wasn’t easy or to be taken for granted, and pleasure was a byproduct of the pain that defined our existence. I’d been told I was just a low-level masochist. To me, labels were ultimately pointless; as long as I got what I wanted, I didn’t care what anyone called it.
True to his word, Toshinori was less careful than he had been. The fingers worked me wider with an impatience that finally matched my own. Even in this reduced form, the digits were quite large. It was a good thing too, because from what I could tell, so still was his dick.
A third finger joined the first two and I arched up to ease the strain, grunting contentedly. Finger tips brushed the hair from my face, likely to study my expression and make sure I was okay. It was sweet. Providing he didn’t stop, I didn’t mind if he needed the reassurance I wasn’t being reckless and therefore making him complicit in harming me needlessly.
He was good at what he was doing, though, and I was already close to being ready. I laid my hands over his jutting shoulders and telegraphed my desire for him to sit up. He followed my lead and sat on the couch as he had earlier. Hands grasped my sides as I swung myself onto his lap once again. Before settling down, I leaned over him to grab the lube and squirted some out. It warmed quickly in my hot palm. I smeared it down his erection with no care for precision, then held him steady as I sank down.
The first groan came from him. My waist was practically crushed in a strong grip. I took hold of his wrists for support as I brought him in for the last tight inches, rocking a little to help the process. It burned, and definitely ached with the stretch I was forcing my body to endure, but he was fully seated in me. Our legs were flush and one or both of us was trembling. I ran my hands up his arms to his shoulders where I fisted the sleeves of his t-shirt.
“You good?” He asked.
“Mmhm.” I wiggled my hips and stole my own breath doing it.
He kissed the corner of my mouth. “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
In unison, I raised up on my knees as he helped lift me by my hips. The sensation of emptiness he left behind was tangible. At the apex of how far I could go before he slipped out, I pressed my forehead to his. Dark, flickering eyes watched me with unrestrained lust. I grinned and relaxed my thighs, dropping down fast. He made some inarticulate noise that could have been pain or pleasure. The whine from me was definitely more the former than the latter; the perfect ratio.
He let me set the pace, which was fast and rough. To his credit, he matched it without any of the overt concern from before. His feet and elbows took some of his weight for the leverage to plunge up into me, undoubtedly bruising me with those bony hips of his.
When my thighs got tired, I gripped the back of the couch to hold myself forward so he could take over, grinding my hips every time he pushed in deep. It wasn’t perfectly synchronized but it was spectacular. And about as much as I was able to handle, embarrassingly enough.
I took one of his hands from my hips and brought it to my neglected erection bobbing between us. His grip as he began stroking wasn’t quite enough. I used my hand over his to show him how I liked it. Once he had the pressure just right, I left him to it and draped my arms over his shoulders. Our cheeks were rubbing together, hair tangling, panting directly into each other’s ear.
“I’m almost there,” I gasped quietly. “But you can keep going.” I nipped his earlobe. “Take however long you need. I won’t mind.”
His hips stuttered clumsily. “Shouta-“
From the sound of it, he was nearly there too. I doubled down despite the fatigue in my legs and began to ride him faster than before. “Or come with me. Either way-“ His hand clenched. My breath hitched as the first sharp tip of orgasm pierced my senses. “-is fine with me, Toshinori.” His name was mangled under my whimper as I came, tensed and quivering, while my faltering hips tried to keep moving for him. The shirt caught most of the mess spilling between us.
His climax hit him moments after mine ended. The side of my neck muffled his low cry while I felt the heated pulses of him releasing inside me. He lost the rhythm of stroking me but it didn’t matter now that I was wrung dry. I rode him through the last spasms as best I could but I just wanted to melt into a boneless puddle.
Unsteadily, he got his arms around me and pulled me in for a breathless embrace for the tail end of his orgasm. It was different, to be held while still vibrating with the aftershocks of coming with someone for the first time. It was romantic in a way I wasn’t expecting. Yet it sort of felt right. I held him in return.
“That was-“ His sigh was shaky. “Thank you.”
I chuckled and smoothed down his hair. “I can’t recall anyone ever thanking me for sex before.”
His head tipped to look at me. I didn’t stop carding my fingers through his hair as we met gazes.
“I doubt they had given up on ever hearing their given name during sex again.”
It was too raw of a truth for me to know what to do with. He knew it, too, judging by the chagrined look on his face, like he hadn’t meant to say it aloud. Who would have guessed the most celebrated hero of all time was built on such a fragile foundation? Or that he became unintentionally honest post-orgasm?
“Toshinori.” I gave him a peck on the lips. “It’s a good name. And I’ll say it as often as I can remember.”
He laughed self-consciously. “Don’t do it on my account! I didn’t mean to get maudlin. It was really great. You were really great.”
“Hm. So were you.” I swept my hands over his face to clear the hair fallen askew. “Will you answer another question for me? A personal one?”
“If I can, I will.”
My hands dropped to his shoulders where my thumbs brushed over the skin above his shirt collar. “Did you really think you would never find someone who would want you as you are? As Yagi Toshinori? You weren’t actually expecting you’d be alone for the rest of your life, were you?”
He grimaced. “Honestly?”
“I hope you’ll be honest but you don’t have to answer if you really don’t want to. Though that in and of itself is kind of an answer, isn’t it?”
“You’ve cornered me into answering whether I want to or not, it seems.” He sighed and ran his hands down my sweaty back. “I guess I hoped once someone got over the fact I was All Might and knew me for me and not just the pro hero, they would be able to see past my physical appearance when I stopped activating my Quirk.” He lifted a shoulder. “Maybe then.”
It really never had occurred to him there were people who would overlook his physical health and appreciate the man behind the scars and malnourished body. It was as if he believed his worth and happiness were inherently disposable when weighed against the vain judgements of strangers. When he was All Might, they were tripping over themselves to be with him. When he wasn’t, the way he looked incited pity and disgust from those same people, and they had no idea it was for them he had been put in this condition in the first place. And his reaction to all this was to buy wholesale into their shallowness?
The public couldn’t know about his injury, that I understood. What I didn’t understand was why he resigned himself to live his life hoping maybe someone, someday, somehow, would see past his fame, see past his health, and deign to love him anyway. He assumed it was his only option, the self-sacrificing dummy.
“Shouta?” He was looking at me with concern.
My expression definitely reflected my internal anger. I dropped the scowl. “Sorry. I was just thinking how stupid and shallow people can be.” I cupped my hand under his chin. “And how stupid you are for letting your assumptions limit you. You know better, I know you do.”
“Probably. It’s different when you actually hear it out loud from someone else, I guess.”
“An outside perspective does shine a light on faulty logic.” I took my hand from his chin. “Not to interrupt what I suspect will become a recurring topic for us, but I would really like to get off of you before we get stuck like this. What are the odds you have a towel handy?”
His laughter dispelled some of the tension. “Not good! And I didn’t think that far ahead when I grabbed the lube. Here. Use this. It’s done half the job already.” He pulled his shirt up and over his head, hesitating only after it was in his hands; poised nervously for my reaction to his scar. He’d have to wait a little longer. I didn’t want my first impression of something so personal for him to happen while he was still inside me.
Without looking away, I accepted his shirt and eased myself off of him. The wetness between my legs was substantial, having spread while we sat talking, and a towel really would have been better to soak up the lube and semen. It was better than nothing. More importantly, it saved his couch and carpet from avoidable stains.
“I’ll get a towel.” He stood and took the soiled shirt, eyes averted.
I’d spent my life training myself to stare at specific locations against all other distractions, yet I utterly failed to not glance at the scar when it unfolded as he straightened. I could feel my eyes widen involuntarily at the sight of it and I kicked myself mentally. Twice, for good measure. The very last thing I wanted was to make him feel self-conscious but it was much worse than anything I’d tried not to picture.
Silently, he turned. Shit. I’d upset him. Before he could walk away, I grabbed his arm. Now that I’d seen it, I wanted to address it properly, not leave him to stew over my admittedly poor knee-jerk response for any length of time.
“It’s not pretty, I know,” he murmured. He could easily remove his arm from my loose hold but he didn't.
“Pretty is overrated.” I said dismissively. I slid my hand down to take his in a comforting grip. “It looks painful.”
“Only sometimes.”
It was like a crater from a meteor, made in flesh instead of earth. An inset knot like a fist sat in the center, striated outward into irregular points that joined one another. It almost looked-
“Like the sun.” I finished my thought aloud. Or an abstract flower, maybe.
Toshinori laughed uncertainly. “What?”
I tore my attention away from the aftermath of carnage to look up at him. “It’s only one aspect of many that make you you now.” For all that it took from him. “It doesn’t define you. And it doesn’t bother me in the slightest. You don’t have to hide it because you think it’ll turn me off, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Partly.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s hard to not be self-conscious about something I’ve never done before. The only people who have seen my scar are doctors and, uh, friends.” He didn’t sound as sure about the friend part but it wasn't my place to press the issue.
I released his hand. “I know it was a big deal for you trust me with all of this tonight. I don’t take it lightly.”
“I know you don’t.” He smiled. “I’ll be right back.” He started to walk away again but stopped at the hallway, turning to throw me an admiring look. “I’m really glad I came out tonight.”
Standing naked in the living room of a man who had barely been more than an acquaintance a few hours ago - who I had the sneaking suspicion I was about to be spending a lot more time with - I found myself surprised at how unsurprising it was to feel truly happy with how things turned out.
“Me too.”