FORWARD/WARNING - Sadly it has become necessary to add this additional note. I know not all of you need this hand-holding, but it appears people are NOT paying attention to the story description and warnings. Please understand this story is M/M and contains NON-CONSENUAL stuff. Its fiction. Rape is NEVER justified in the real world NO MATTER WHAT. This story is FICTION and involves dark subjects. It also involves a male on male relationship. If you don't enjoy it - THEN STOP READING. If you decide it's too much for you later on as you're reading it - THEN STOP READING. If you want to know if there's a happy end - of course there is, but I'm not even close to done yet! I've never received more harassment than I have in my entire life until posting to THIS site. I'm sorry if the story gets your emotions going - but if it's too much for you CLOSE OUT OF IT AND STOP READING! I encourage fanfic lovers, both readers and writers, to visit Archive Of Our Own DOT Org. That site allows you to select very specific tags and add tons of warnings and descriptions. The interface is better and people can search easier for what they want to read. It also gives the writer more control and protection of their work and has a friendlier community. Although I usually appreciate reviews, I am NOT reading reviews here anymore. I am just posting the latest chapter as it comes out because I'm aware there are a handful of people here who like the story. Sorry - but only the worst of the worst speak up on this site. To those who are enjoying, thanks for your support and maturity concerning adult fiction.

Zero Potential

Summary:

All Might (Yagi Toshinori) and Eraserhead (Aizawa Shouta) do not have the best of beginnings. All Might has had enough of the way Eraserhead speaks to his protege. Just because the up and coming host of 'One for All' is nicknamed 'Deku' doesn't mean his teacher should treat him that way. After the USJ incident, All Might thought both he and Midoriya had surely done enough to prove themselves to the underground hero. But the moment Shouta's bandages were removed, he was at it again. Frustrated and fed up, the Symbol of Peace finally confronts the sleek and scruffy teacher... only to discover some dangerously unresolved feelings.

Rated Explicit for full detail and non/con. This is a Top-Might, aggressive Yagi story; The Number One Hero has a set of Number One-Sized Balls. It's really hard to hide a Plus Ultra Why-Boner beneath a skin-tight hero suit. Please check out the tags - it gets violent, emotional, and strangely adorable.

More seriously, this is a broken story about broken heroes, written by a broken person, for an audience who knows what it feels like to break and try to put the pieces together again.

(Okay, it's that and some shamelessly indulgent size-play.)

(The Plot-Drop. The sleek and scruffy alley-cat prowls the night until he's caught by a giant. Context is set, and the confrontation begins. This takes place during the two-day break granted after the conclusion of the Sports Festival. So we're looking at the night of Season 2, Episode 25 of the Anime aka the night of Manga vol 5, Chapter 44.)

Chapter 1: The Whispering Night

The night whispered through ink black strands as Eraserhead prowled the streets, pausing on the occasional roof-top to stand tall and yawn. Aizawa loved to drink in the midnight air. It was lighter somehow. Refreshing. The lithe muscle along his legs tensed beneath his black suit, a wave of sleek strength rolling up his back, over his shoulders, back down his arms, and all the way to his clenched fists as he power-yawned. Then, release, and he went back to the slightly slouched, lazy posture he was so well known for. His eyes surveyed the street below, his lax body prepared to snap into immediate action should he catch sight of either trouble, or a stray cat - but neither came.

What he got instead was the ring of his cell. Aizawa pulled the disturbance from his pocket. Earlier today, the noise of the Sports Festival had finally concluded and he'd dismissed 1-A for a 2-day break. There should be a little quiet now. Squinting into the glare of his phone he read the name of the caller. 'Hizashi.' Of course it was the loudest hero on Earth. And strangely the loudest hero on Earth was one of his few and only friends, so he answered.

"Hey." ...And held the phone away from his ear a few inches - Mic was always loudest at the start of a call.

"YO ERASER MY MAN! I GOT YOUR TEXT! OUT OF THE CASTS! CONGRATULATIONS!"

"Yeah, they're finally off."

"YEAAAAAAA! ...But isn't it too soon?!"

"No. I'm fine." Aizawa moved the phone back to his ear as the Voice hero calmed down. Now he could hear Nemuri in the background asking how he was, and Mic whispering non-discreetly, "SAYS HE'S FINE!" Based on the familiar ambient they were at the trio's favorite dive bar.

"You should've told me, Eraser! I would've gone with you! You didn't just take them off yourself did you?"

A smile Hizashi would never see tugged at the corners of Shouta's mouth. "I thought about it, but no, I stopped by the infirmary after dismissing class. Turns out an aggressive bout of kisses from Recovery Girl was all I needed to finish up my healing."

"Well, then its time to celebrate! Say it with me; RECOVERY PARTY! Where are you, we'll come get you!"

"I can't. I'm working."

There was a pause.

"WORKING!?"

Aizawa jerked his head back from the phone, wincing. "Yeah, I'm back on the hero night-shift."

"Yo! If it's a matter of money, I can always lend you-"

"It's not. I'm sticking close to Yuuei. Doubt I'll bag any villains here."

"Eraser..." That tone of concern again.

"Really, I need this. The press pissed off hours ago, staff and kids have all gone home. It's uneventful and perfect. It'll give me a chance to see if my body can still *do* everything."

"...Hey, fine, okay!?" The usual grumbles of a friend who knew when his pal could not be persuaded. "I get it. But call me when you're done. Or just come over, yeah? You should crash at my place until we're sure you're 100 percent!"

"Maybe." And in the background came a barrage of shouts and cheers - sounded like a round of drinks on the house. "Go have fun."

Mic started on further protest but there was a fumbling sound and Nemuri took over. "Naughty Eraser, Tsk Tsk. You really shouldn't be swinging around rooftops and alleyways right now. I'll buy you a rice plate if you come, so be a good boy and-'

"Tempting, but I'll catch up later." And Eraserhead hung up. He turned the volume on his phone all the way down, and waited for it. A few seconds later the screen flashed; Text message received. Aizawa read it.

"YO! Don't be so dark and serious! You want to crash you have the key! Stop by okay?!"

Aizawa tucked the phone away. He liked that he could be rude to his friends - they just 'got' him - but he'd meant it. Tonight was his. He raised a single pale hand to his cheek, fingertips bumping against the bottom of his yellow goggles and pressing gently to the new scar under his right eye. The cheekbone was healed, but the orbital socket still ached a bit. Recovery Girl said it should stop completely in a month or two, aside from possibly acting up when it rained. But for now it was still tender, and his quirk seemed to be just a touch slower. It was time to find out if his technique would suffer.

Shouta rested his eyes closed. At least it was quiet again. His lips parted softly against the night, every movement utterly silent. When his gaze lifted a gleam of red shone, casting crimson hues against the black, silken strands that were now lifting from the hero's shoulders. Eraserhead straightened his goggles and unwound his scarf, breaking the stillness of the moment. The carbon-fiber weapon twisted and whispered against the night, dancing to life before him, controlled as much by his gaze as could be the stifling of another's quirk. Within a heartbeat he was racing across the roof-top, leaping, slinging the scarf for a target which would swing him over to the next building. He was determined to make the most of this midnight run, feeling he should push himself to make up for all that time spent in bandages. He had no idea that a giant among men had just picked up his trail.

All Might stared down at the empty yellow sleeping bag with a frown. It made him angry the way it lay there in the teacher's lounge, covered with crumpled juice boxes and other forms of litter. A nest is what it was. A nest for an ungrateful and far too negative teacher. Did Eraserhead even have a bed to sleep in, or was that yellow bag the whole of his estate? Yagi Toshinori allowed the steam around his fists to dissipate. He wanted to conserve his energy in case he actually did get a hold of Aizawa tonight. He'd rushed around to find him earlier when the festival concluded, but first he'd been busy with his class, and then he'd found him again getting his casts removed. The disgruntled Number One had come back to the lounge to wait where the bag was, certain Aizawa would return for it. But it was getting really late...

Yagi brushed the long, blonde bangs from his face with one hand, his teeth bared in a grimace the public never got to see. He really did not like to be angry. He resented the fact he was bothered enough to have to confront the fellow U.A. alumnus, and further bothered that he had to do it late at night, but he was resolved to catch the other teacher privately and when he was awake enough to be approachable. The past was embarrassing enough; When he'd caught the teacher telling Izuku that he had zero potential. "Zero Potential!" Yagi said it like the words tasted bad in his mouth. He believed strict teachers could have their purpose, but to say a thing like that? It went too far! So he'd waited around the corner of the building to catch the perpetrator alone. And yet, when he had, the man had caught him in those eyes of his - with a smug smirk half hidden in that scarf he always carried! Somehow, the black-haired teacher had immediately discerned that Midoriya was especially important to him. He'd spelled out Toshinori's private thoughts as if the whole of the Number One Hero's intellect was no more challenging to read than a children's book! And just like that, All Might's friendly hopes for a chat had been replaced by his own near-incoherent stammering!

Yagi sighed as he remembered the ordeal, his tall, lean form slouching in momentary defeat - until he realized he was slouching just the way Aizawa did! "That little villain!" All Might growled out loud and swept one long, lanky shin forward with a kick and scuffed the yellow bag with his heel, overturning half of it and setting off a burst of empty wrappers and depleted juice boxes. Electric-blue eyes burned from the shadows behind those blonde bangs. His every thought was on Aizawa, and it only seemed to get worse the longer he couldn't resolve it. This had to be addressed... Tonight. Since the man wasn't teaching or sleeping, he'd be out roaming the streets. But even knowing that, All Might couldn't help but feel like Aizawa was evading him on purpose, dismissing him. Yagi scooted over to the teacher's lounge computer and accessed the Hero Locator icon. As a safety precaution since the USJ incident, the school required teachers and students to keep their phone location data on so their whereabouts could be accessed during an emergency. All Might scrolled through the hero list until *Eraserhead* appeared. He clicked so hard to catch the name that the mouse creaked under his finger. A map appeared on the screen, followed by a single red dot which moved slowly along a street just a few blocks away. A rush of anticipation broiled in Toshinori's chest. It really was like chasing after a villain. He shoved away from the computer and headed out the door.

Aizawa continued his parkour/scarf run until he reached the last roof-top on the street. Here he perched against the very edge of the building and surveyed the area below. No criminals. No cats. But this didn't have to be a zero potential night. Eyes flaring red, he slung the scarf upward to catch the top of a tall street lamp, at the same time leaping off the roof. The rest of the scarf coiled around his forearms and one loop even crossed over his back. As gravity took over, the scarf held him and carried him in a great, graceful swoop through the night. He extended his legs, holding them together, and twisted his seating to steer the trajectory of the swing into a lazy. descending spiral. One ivory hand coaxed more slack from the scarf bit by bit until he was delivered effortlessly to the ground. The red light in his eyes dimmed out as Aizawa followed the momentum of the landing into a purposeful runway walk, raising one arm for the scarf to coil around as it followed behind him. The walk was not flamboyant, but there was an element of show to it, though he believed himself to be alone. When half the scarf was reeled in - the rest still floating in the air behind him - his pupils burned red again. He spun, quickly, the heel of one foot arching high in a decisive strike that caused a ripple to race down the trailing half of the scarf. Aizawa's eyes dimmed, his foot returned to the ground, and he stood motionless, all before the ripple could reach the end of the scarf. When it did, it produced a sharp little crack, like a whip. The moment it sounded his eyes shined red again, hair lifting to ride the air around him as he shifted into yet another slightly overdone move. He carried himself between the mood of a scruffy underwear model and the posturing of a martial artist, demonstrating his technique before an awestruck audience. But for Aizawa, it was simply how he practiced, enjoying his talents and paying close attention to how every move felt along his recently healed body. His audience, as far as he knew, was himself.

All Might walked out of the school and down the street in his deflated, lanky form. A white t-shirt hung from his frame as though it was three sizes too big. His olive-drab cargo pants did the same. It was dark, late, and there was no class for two days so he had no concern for discretion. It wouldn't take him long to reach the street where Shouta was, and he wanted to keep hold of his relaxed form as long as possible, as if controlling it was somehow also controlling this strange new temper in his chest. But it was already getting hard to keep the steam from curling up from his knuckles. Not with the little villain so close now. "No," Yagi reminded himself, "He's not a villain he just... he's just... We just don't see eye to eye." But the short walk that was supposed to help him clear his head only made him grow more agitated. All the things he had to say came rushing to mind, along with the events that triggered them. Especially what happened after USJ! Yagi rammed his steaming hands into his loose fitting pants and quickened his gait. Both he AND Izuku had almost died saving the underground hero. Toshinori was more than fine with putting his own life on the line. If he could avoid death, he'd like to, but he would never fail to rush into impossible situations to preserve another's life. It's why Nana chose him for "One for All" in the first place. And Deku was the same. So its not that they had almost died... Its what Eraserhead had said after they unwrapped his head - and villainous lips - from all those bandages.

Toshinori stopped dead in his tracks. There he was. Right ahead of him. Fighting - or was it dancing - beneath one of the street lamps. Lithe body moving gracefully, a wink of red here and there, the scarf trailing behind like an extension of its wielder's soul. That dark hair so black it shined. The glimpse of alabaster hands and porcelain face. Yagi felt his heart jump in his throat. All at once he felt like he shouldn't be here, like he was watching something private. But other feelings came as well, like the fact he had a hell of a lot to get off his chest. All Might pulled his hands back out of his pockets, clenching them into fists, as if trying to fight against some unseen hypnotism. The way Aizawa moved... It was so... interesting. Cat-like. ...

Attractive.

Yagi's last thought shocked himself and he pulled back behind the building, dropping one hand by instinct to squeeze the head of his dick through his pants. This gave him another shock. A chubby? Really? What the hell was his body trying to do here?! He squeezed a little harder, forcing the blood back out of his member. He leaned back against the wall, jaw clenched. Why couldn't he keep his thoughts straight around Aizawa? Did the little teacher have some secret quirk that confused observers? Steam curled up off Yagi's hands and shoulders. His body began to perfectly fill out the loose clothing as he silently transformed into his hero posture. In an effort to remain focused he recalled the events that brought him here.

Deku had gone to visit the teacher after Aizawa's face wraps were removed. Toshinori had as well, but he'd stopped just outside the door when he'd heard Shouta's voice drift outward in a scolding tone. "You should go home to your mother," the dark-haired man had said. "You didn't stand a chance. It wasn't logical of you to fight. You should be dust right now. Just like All Might." Yagi had felt Deku cringe right through the wall. "Er... W-well... There was no way either one of us could watch you get killed! Aizawa-sama, you rushed in to fight for all of us too! We all risked our lives that day! And... well... We're all alive right now! So it worked out!" Yagi felt proud of Deku for that, watching from outside the door as that big, hapless grin spread across his protege's face. The same grin he used no matter how dire the situation became. Then Shouta's voice came again... "The two of you have almost zero potential. And you're a problem child. Go home." All Might could let any number of insults roll off his shoulders, but when they were directed at Midoriya a hot, protective ball of fire rose in his chest. At that moment Yagi had stepped into the room booming loudly with the fake smile plastered across his face. He clapped Deku on the shoulder and congratulated him again on a job well done. He watched as the doubt Shouta had planted instantly melted away from Izuku's face. He tried to remember how like himself Midoriya was - That he wouldn't let those words undo him. But knowing that did nothing to quiet his protective streak. And yet, when he'd turned to confront the underground hero, the new scar under Aizawa's eye had held him at bay. He recalled the sight of Shouta beneath Nomu. All that blood. His heart, how it had turned to glass as he knocked the villains away from that broken body, as he looked to see if Shouta was still alive. ...And how that glass heart filled with fire and turned to steel when, yes! Yes! He was still alive! The way the smaller, graceful man felt so limp and delicate when he'd scooped him up. How he *must* be protected. It had all come back to Yagi and he'd failed, yet again, to press the issue with Aizawa.

Tonight was going to be different. Enormous hands clenched as All Might steeled himself. Tonight-

"What are you doing out here?"

Aizawa's voice took All Might by surprise. The Symbol of Peace stared down and beheld Eraserhead standing before him. The smaller man was standing slightly to the side, slouched a little, his goggles tucked back away somewhere and his scarf wrapped neatly around his neck and shoulders. One of the street lamps even gave enough light to reveal the inquisitive yet doubtful expression in the eyes staring back up at him. It was like catching a tired alley-cat by surprise. This was the moment it paused to regard you with that semi-interested look. All Might opened his mouth but the words didn't come. How long had he spaced out with his head spinning over Aizawa?!

The edge of a smug grin peeked up from behind the layers of the scarf stacked in front of Eraserhead's mouth. His voice came again, slightly muffled and a little lazy, but completely amused now. "This is the second time I've found you waiting for me around the corner." The smile became a half-hidden grin, and a knowing mischief appeared in the smaller man's eyes. "I guess it has to do with *Deku* again."

There was a certain tone added to the word Deku, and all at once All Might understood. Aizawa was egging him on! Downright fucking with him! The massive hero stepped forward, intent on being the one in control this time, and rested a huge, heavy hand on Eraserhead's shoulder. "Aizawa! We need to talk."

Aizawa's slouched form straightened at the touch to compensate for the weight of the giant hand. He even gave those large knuckles a brief glance before returning his gaze to All Might's face. "He's likely to get killed or kill himself with his own power," Aizawa sighed. "I'm just helping him be sure this is what he really wants. It's only logical for him to understand the probability of his demise." Aizawa waited, those big, sleepy eyes staring up at All Might matter-of-factly.

The giant, sun-kissed hand resting on Aizawa's slender shoulder tightened a little. "No, Shouta. He's here at the school so he can learn to use his quirk. So that he doesn't die."

Aizawa was a little surprised to be addressed so informally, but then, they *were* friends during the brief cross-over of their own academy days, kinda. If you could call it that.

All Might took the rare hiccup of silence from the smaller man to drive home his point. "You need to help build him up, not cut him down. I need you to recognize his potential."

Shouta squinted his eyes a little, studying All Might's face, that smug, knowing grin returning beneath the scarf. "What is it with you and him anyway?"

All Might's mouth opened, but again there came no words.

"Well then," Aizawa gave a lazy roll of his eyes, losing interest and turning to go. "I know he has *some* potential... like the ability to serve as cannon fodder." With that, Aizawa moved to step away.

All Might's hand gripped. They both sort of watched as Shouta's foot swung forward pointlessly and fell back to the ground; A step that would never be taken. The slender form of a chiseled yet delicate shoulder strained briefly beneath All Might's hand. All at once it made All Might remember how it felt to carry the broken man in his arms - it made him *want* to hold him again. And it reminded Aizawa of being trapped beneath Nomu. The black-haired hero's head tilted a little, his lips parting behind his scarf with a draw of breath. It was as if he lost conscious control of himself, compelled to submit to the weight of the hand on his shoulder; As if his body instinctively knew how mighty that hand was. For the first time ever, he was at a loss for both words and action - stunned as the unfamiliar spike of fear drove through him. Almost without thinking about it, All Might moved his free hand forward to capture Aizawa's other shoulder. He carefully turned the smaller man to face him again straight on. "Shouta. I'm serious. This isn't funny."

This time, Aizawa was the one who couldn't speak...