Chapter Text
Yagi has been gone for days. He hasn't quite slept since the last time he was in this suite, actually, and it is nice to be home . Home, even if it is not his name along the plaque denoting the suite assignment.
What makes this particular set of rooms home to him now in his old age is sleeping soundly, as it is the middle of the night. Yagi hardly dares to breathe as he sits to remove his shoes and place them neatly by a familiar pair of black boots and pink slippers. Neither of them have ever cared much for house slippers in their own space, but there is an extra pair for visitors who are so inclined. Yagi is glad to see that the pair have not been done away with in his absence, as is wont to happen when he is away for more than a few days.
He leaves the pink slippers behind and continues on in his socks. His suit feels gritty and he wants to take a bath. There is no one around to see, no one he needs to smile for, so he feels comfortable allowing the expression he's kept firmly fixed to fall away in the safety of the shadowed hall. He rubs his temple as he slides heavy feet to the bathroom. He feels older every day - only appropriate! He is aging, after all.
He forgoes a bath in exchange for washing his face and brushing his teeth. Between interviews, traveling, meetings and impromptu fan meet ups, he has managed to snatch a few showers and that will hold him over until after he rests. Perhaps he will even manage to talk his way into having someone to wash his back for him, if he wakes to an agreeable mood.
Then again, between his extended absences of late and the stress of young Midoriya's class, agreeable moods have been few and far between. He finds himself smiling stupidly at his own reflection in the mirror.
He has missed being home and will happily take a disagreeable mood if that is the price he is allowed to pay.
Part of him wants nothing more than to shed his clothes and leave piles of fabric in his wake to the bedroom. The rest of him reasons that it will save him a red-eyed stare if he abstains so he does.
He finds hangers waiting on the doorknob of the bedroom, the same spot they are always waiting for him. Yagi does not know when they are placed - if it is the same night he calls in to say he won't be home or if there is some sort of magic or secret quirk involved that allows them to be waiting only on the nights he comes home in the dark. Either way, he strips his suit off in the hall, leaves his briefs and undershirt on but lets the suit stay neatly hanged on the knob as he enters the dim domain of his lover.
Moonlight is the only thing to shred through the night like gashes, thin lines marring the bed and showing off the burrito-like lump in the middle. Yagi remembers his old apartment, how the streetlights were much more violent in their haloing. He prefers the washed out pale of the moon, which is kinder on his eyes. The campus has been kind to him, even after his retirement.
"I'm home." He says into the quiet, a whisper.
"Welcome home." He gets back, muffled and grumpy. He feels a grin stretch across his face. All of his smiles are genuine, but this one is somehow more so.
"Sorry for being so late." He comes to sit on the edge of the bed, warmth seeping from the burrito lump and into his chilled thigh. He is always so cold and, finally, the chill is being chased away.
"Shut up. Come to bed."
"You're in the middle of it." Yagi points out fondly, resting a spindly hand on the general hip vicinity of the lump, "Will I sleep around you?"
The lump grumbles and shifts and Yagi watches as it blooms, pitch dark hair and pale skin and tired eyes blinking out tiredly as Shouta emerges.
"You are a Pro hero, All Might. Problem solve."
"Retired, now." Yagi reminds him, reaching out to brush a tangled lock out of Shouta's eyes, "I leave myself in your care."
"Shut up." Shouta frowns but he is still mostly asleep so it comes out soft. Yagi brushes his cheek, feels the stubble that Shouta has left behind against the thin skin of his fingers. Shouta lifts the edge of the blanket with a sigh and Yagi eagerly climbs in.
Shouta is wearing few clothes, as is usual when he gets the chance to sleep in their bed instead of his sleeping bag or whatever other place he has chosen to nap. Much like a cat, he can sleep just about anywhere but, unlike a cat, he must usually be wearing clothes while he does it. Yagi takes advantage and burrows against the firm heat of his lover, burying his icy nose in soft skin.
"You're cold."
"Sorry."
"Stop apologizing."
"Sorry." Yagi smiles when he gets a light knock on the back of his skull.
"Go to sleep." Shouta pulls the blanket back over their heads, encasing them in darkness once again.
Yagi...tries. He truly does. He closes his eyes and breathes in and out, lets Shouta warm him up with slow strokes along his spine and with the heat created between their tangled legs. And he relaxes, to be sure, but sleep continues to evade him.
He has not seen Shouta in days and days - it has been even longer since they last had time like this. He is free tomorrow, a Sunday, and Shouta will not have class until his afternoon training session. Barring villainous activity, it is the longest stretch of time they have had together in some months.
He finds himself tracing shapes on a well-muscled back. Nothing in particular, just the tips of his fingers moving in odd patterns from shoulder to hip. He walks his fingers up the knobs of Shouta's spine, over familiar scars and sensitive spots he knows without even needing to look.
"This isn't sleep, Toshinori." Shouta sighs, but he doesn't seem put out. Yagi can feel his body reacting where his thin leg is nestled.
"Observant, as always, Shouta." Yagi teases and huffs when he gets pinched for it. Shouta's fingers are light in their punishment, at least.
"I have class tomorrow."
"At noon." Yagi points out, rubbing his flat palm along Shouta's side, following the curved dip of his hip. He keeps going, over the thin material of Shouta's boxer briefs and to his thigh. His lover is not bare, but the hair on his thighs is somehow more sparse than on the rest of his body.
"Exactly. I am going to sleep in. We both are."
"Then it won't matter if we stay up just a little longer, probably." he smiles, but relents and returns his fingers to safer places - the dips between ribs.
Things have been...different, since the loss of his quirk in this respect. Yagi is not an insecure man by any means. He hasn't, to be honest, had any reason to be; and he wouldn't be where he is if shame or a willingness to stand in the background were traits he favored. No one has ever accused All Might of being the humble symbol of peace.
But Yagi ten years ago is not the Yagi of the present. The body he has is not the body he had and neither is his sex drive. Since his injury, his seeking of sex has never quite been the same. He is just as interested in laying like this, bodies sharing heat and bared skin as he is interested in more intimate touching.
Any time in bed with Aizawa Shouta is time he considers well spent, no matter what they are doing.
Shouta is quiet but Yagi notices when he shuffles closer, notices his hips hitch so he can drag his groin more firmly into Yagi's thigh.
"I didn't say stop." Shouta mumbles, dark hair and the pillow material hiding his face from Yagi's eyes.
Yagi's lips quirk, a crooked smile he thinks he might only ever wear for Shouta.
"Sorry."
"Stop apologizing. Take responsibility for what you started, All Might."
The words are grumpy, but Yagi knows what Shouta is really saying and it makes his heart rate increase. Technically, he is supposed to be avoiding activities that do that outside of specifically monitored sessions but c'est la vie.
He trails his fingers back to Shouta's hip, pulls until he's got a firm leg locked between Shouta's. He gently rocks Shouta's hips, listens for the near-silent hitch in breath that tells him it feels good.
It appears quickly.
“Of course.” Yagi tucks long fingers under the elastic of Shouta’s shorts, strokes the skin there. It’s a comfort to be allowed to touch so freely, so familiarly. It doesn’t feel like he’s earned this right, not really, but he loves to take advantage of it and now is no different. He wastes little time setting a smooth rhythm, guiding Shouta’s hips with one hand and gripping one of his butt cheeks with the other, squeezing firmly just to feel the muscle.
Shouta is quiet during sex. When Yagi was younger, that quiet might of worried him, made him feel like he wasn’t doing a good enough job. They’ve been together long enough now, though, that he can spot the other ways that Shouta loses control.
The way his muscles grow tense the longer they work themselves together, the way his previously relaxed palm finds itself twisting into the back of Yagi’s shirt. The way Shouta’s breathing goes off and the way he tilts his head just enough to peek out from the pillow, to look at Yagi with one slitted eye.
With only the thin material of Shouta’s shorts between them, it’s easy to feel as he grows steadily more worked up. Yagi presses a thin-lipped kiss to Shouta’s shoulder, inhales just to smell the spicy cologne he favors. Yagi has never caught him using it, but he thinks that either it must have somehow soaked into every inch of Shouta from the one whole time he wore it for an event or Shouta wears it in secret.
“I missed you.” Yagi admits.
Shouta stretches like a cat, throwing the blanket off of them and letting cool air wash over them. Yagi lets him, shivering at the temperature change. When Shouta grabs at his hand and pushes him onto his back so he can swing his leg over Yagi’s hips and settle on his lap to look down on him, Yagi doesn’t argue. That heart rate of his skips a beat before going into overdrive at all the exposed skin, pale and sculpted. Shouta’s hair is wild and long but he uses a hand to shove it out of his face and hold it there so he can drag dark eyes down Yagi’s thin body. His weight is a comfort, familiar and wanted. Yagi can see the bulge in his boxer briefs, can feel it against his own dick.
“Come home faster if you miss me.” Shouta frowns, awake enough to make it a real one now. Yagi rests his hands on his thighs, squeezes lightly and then rubs one up until he can grip Shouta’s hip.
“Midoriya will be old enough, soon.” Yagi promises, and he knows there is naked adoration on his face as he looks up at this man, with his scars and his stubble and tired eyes, “They won’t care about me much once he is able to take his place as the new symbol of peace. I can be your kept husband.”
“I guess.” Shouta sets a hand on Yagi’s chest, walks his fingers down to the hem of his undershirt and then slowly drags it up to reveal Yagi’s concave stomach and bony chest, the dark, wrinkled scar that marks him. “Though you would make an awful kept husband. I’d come home from work to find you doing something stupid.”
“Life would be boring if I wasn’t there to shake it up.” Yagi points out and gets a soft look in the shine of Shouta’s eye as his confirmation.
“Shake it up here.” Shouta sighs, “At least I have comrades to keep you alive when I’m with students.”
Yagi grins widely at him, eyes crinkling up at the thought. Before Midoriya, the future had always seemed so scary to look forward to - how could he leave the hero business and take One for All with him? But now...now he has his pupil, and Young Bakugou at his side, and an entire class being taught by the man he trusts most in the world to take his place when it is finally time to step back. His forced retirement did not break down the dam between innocent people and villains who have been laying in wait and he has hope that the world will only grow brighter from here.
He can stay with UA, with Shouta and their friends, and help teach the coming generations. It is a good future to look forward to.
“I would like that.” He sits up, using Shouta’s hip to drag him close, and they finally kiss. Shouta tastes sleepy, much to Yagi’s pleasure, and he is soft under his lips. Fingers tangle in his blond hair, smooth out his bangs, rub at the lines at the corners of his eyes until he’s relaxed. He doesn’t dare try to work his own fingers through Shouta’s tangled hair, knows that Shouta will bite him if he tugs wrong, so he strokes, instead. Shouta rolls his hip, slow and grinding, and Yagi feels his stomach twist, grunts into the kiss and has to pull away to rest his forehead on Shouta’s shoulder.
“You seem tired.” Shouta, of all people, points out, and Yagi can’t stop smiling. It’s a welcome break from the times when it feels like he has to give everything to keep the expression on his face. Shouta is always able to make him smile.
“Not now.” he promises, thumbs digging into tense muscles and working circles that have Shouta’s hips twitching against his. He drags a soft gasp out with the move and takes it in greedily.
“You haven’t been resting.”
“I’ll rest later.”
“Toshinori.” Shouta pulls back to give him a dark look and it makes Yagi laugh, smooth and deep in his belly.
“Thank you for taking care of me.” He cups Shouta’s face, feeling more awake than he’s felt in days. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Die.” Shouta says shortly and pushes him back to the bed. Yagi lands with an oof and then watches Shouta casually tug Yagi’s briefs down. He doesn’t get them far, just enough to bare Yagi’s erection.
“Yes, probably.” Yagi nods and then has to tilt his head back and close his eyes because Shouta’s wrapped his hand around Yagi’s dick and squeezed the base.
“Look at me, Toshinori.” Shouta demands and, while his tone is short, Yagi can hear the amusement clear as day. He forces his eyes open and looks at his lover; moonlight crossing the bridge of his nose and one of his eyes, not even the night hiding how nice his skin looks. Yagi’s hands have fallen back to his thighs and he can’t help but grip tightly to feel the muscles underneath his palms.
“You woke me up.” Shouta starts, seemingly severe, but his touch is kind. He drags his hand along Yagi’s dick, tight enough to feel but not to hurt. It feels good and Yagi is not used to feeling good as a default. He enjoys it while he has it, breathing in and out as steadily as he can while he watches Shouta above him.
“Sorry.”
“I told you to stop apologizing and take responsibility.” Shouta uses his other hand to guide Yagi’s hand to his own groin, molds Yagi’s hand until he’s firmly gripping Shouta’s dick. Yagi goes willingly but lets Shouta decide how he wants to be touched. He takes over slowly stroking when Shouta’s eyes flicker, giving himself away.
“You’re very distracting. You make me want to be irresponsible.” Yagi feels his toes curl under Shouta’s touch, has to swallow around the tightness in his throat.
“I suppose retiring comes with some benefits, then.” Shouta shrugs and cracks a smile of his own. Some might say that Shouta has an odd smile - that it makes him look more scary than happy. Yagi couldn’t disagree more. He loves Shouta’s smiles, loves when his eyes grow hooded, when his lips curl up and his teeth are bared - when he’s smirking or smiling or laughing or mocking. He loves all of it. He loves the expression Shouta is wearing now, teasing and just for him. “This once, we can act irresponsibly.”
“Just the once.” Yagi goes along with the lie and slides his hand into Shouta’s underwear to wrap his long fingers around the hard length and stroke.
Shouta shivers atop him, curls his shoulders and bends over until his hair hangs like a curtain. Yagi does something to entice him into another kiss and takes full advantage when Shouta leanes down. He strokes him, slow and tight, while he cups the back of Shouta’s head to keep him close enough to kiss. He licks into Shouta’s mouth, tastes the sleep and the familiar essence of Shouta, feels the tangled hair under his fingers and the damp heat of his erection in his palm, the wet where he leaks at the tip.
Shouta doesn’t hold back, either. He kisses Yagi like he’s missed him as much as Yagi has, squeezes his hand around Yagi’s dick and jacks him off to the same rhythm that Yagi sets. Yagi can’t help but thrust his hips up as best he can, held down by Shouta’s weight, and he encourages Shouta’s hips to do the same until they’re rocking together. His sweat cools on his skin even as he sheds it, but his breathing goes shakey, his limbs beginning to tremble under the strain.
“Toshi…” Shouta whispers, drops his name between them like a secret, and it makes Yagi groan loud.
“Shouta, you can’t…” he has to stop, grit his teeth against the rush of feeling when Shouta looks at him through his lashes and twists his palm as he reaches the tip in his upstroke and then drags his palm back down.
“Why can’t I?” Shouta challenges, grin stretching for a moment before dripping back into a satisfied quirk of lips.
“Because I’ll -” Yagi shivers, caught in Shouta’s trap, at his mercy. He trails his fingers down to stroke the back of Shouta’s neck to avoid pulling at his hair, squeezing when he can’t resist holding onto something. Shouta’s hand is warm and wet and feels so good , feels like exactly what Yagi has been craving for days and days. He’s missed this, missed Shouta and their bed and their bodies together. Missed being home.
“Then do it.” Shouta encourages, dropping his voice into something gravely and rough.
Yagi, with a whine that is definitely not Plus Ultra, does. He loses his breath, back arching and limbs tensing as he comes, thin strips that Shouta works out patiently with long, firm motions.
“Shouta -” he gasps, finds himself trying to breath his feelings into Shouta’s mouth, speaking into a kiss, “I - Shouta, shit -”
“There we go…” Shouta sighs, satisfied, “Finally breaking down that polite bullshit...let me in, Yagi.”
“Whatever you want,” Yagi says too honestly, “Whatever you want that I can give -”
“Just you.” Shouta says with finality, and Yagi goes back to stroking him, kisses him when Shouta’s eyes dip closed, “Just give me you and I’ll be satisfied.”
“I’m already yours.” Yagi reminds him, because he’s been Shouta’s from the moment that red-eyed stare had found him and everyone has always known it.
“No.” Shouta sighs, slowly begins to roll his hips again, “I have to share you with the rest of the world for now. But you’ll be all mine, soon.”
“Yes.” Yagi nods, knocking their foreheads together and then leaving them that way, hunching up a little to keep the position. He wants to feel Shouta’s heartbeat against his; barring that, he tightens his hand and jacks him faster, thumb rubbing the sensitive nerves at the head until he has Shouta’s hips twisting, has him making soft, grunting noises into their barely-there kiss.
When Shouta comes, it’s with no sound. He goes totally silent, back and shoulders curling in, biting at Yagi’s lip as he paints Yagi’s fist with come. Yagi holds him tightly, hand between his shoulder blades, thin arm curled protectively along his ribcage.
Shouta has to gather himself and Yagi gives him the time, fluttering kisses to his chin and down his neck until Shouta is able to relax and roll onto his side, wrinkling his nose at the feeling in his underwear. Yagi would say he feels the same, but he’s been much more uncomfortable and he’s pleased enough that he doesn’t mind the sticky feeling. Still, he sits up enough to strip his undershirt off from where Shouta had shoved it up to his armpits and uses it to wipe them both down and then toss it over the edge of the bed along with their underwear.
“You always cause a mess.” Shouta mutters, but gives himself away with how he tugs Yagi into his side before he drags the blanket back up to cover them.
“I’ll clean tomorrow.” Yagi smiles, looking at the wall like it is the reason he’s so blessed as to be allowed to have Shouta bury his face in Yagi’s shoulder instead of the pillow.
“No you won’t.” Shouta tangles their legs together pointedly and Yagi doesn’t argue. Instead, he flattens his palm at the base of Shouta’s spine, feels that heartbeat he’s missed so much bang-bang-bang against his own where they’re pressed together.
He’s mostly sleeping when Shouta next speaks, so quietly Yagi wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t supposed to hear it at all.
“I did miss you, too.”
Yagi smiles.