Chapter One: Regimen
Noun: a prescribed way of life to promote overall health and wellness
As Aizawa had many times before, and as he would many times in the future, Aizawa met one of his suitors in the private teacher's bathroom of UA during the student's lunch break.
"Aizawa," called a familiar, gruff voice.
"Yo," called Aizawa as he put out his cigarette and let his scarf fall to the floor with the rest of his clothing.
"Are you gonna let me fuck you or not?" asked the impatient voice from the other side of the large stall.
"Hold on…fucking hell," muttered Aizawa as he slipped out of his shoes. Things got semen and bodily fluids on them more often than not, so it was best to be proactive about that.
He could usually be found smoking out the bathroom window like a delinquent teen. Aizawa would wait, knowing that more often than not, someone would come looking for him. Someone would want to fuck him, and that gave him purpose during these god awful lunch breaks that were too short for a nap and yet somehow long enough to be mind numbingly boring.
Aizawa opened the stall door and Vlad rushed through the entryway without so much as a greeting. He huffed and puffed and ran his hands through his hair.
"Stressful day," commented Aizawa, not really asking.
"You could say that," said Vlad, not really answering.
And then Vlad was kissing his jaw with rough lips and biting his neck with sharp teeth. Aizawa's hair lifted like a halo as Vlad spun him around and manhandled him to the bathroom floor. As per usual, there was no resistance from Aizawa regardless of Vlad's choices. Aizawa bent forward subserviently and waited.
Large hands spread his ass cheeks until the skin burned where it stretched. Aizawa winced and wriggled to lessen the burden on his kneecaps against the cold tiles of the bathroom floor.
"You look used, Aizawa," said the rival 1-B teacher behind him. His voice echoed in the small space.
"Then use me already," sighed Aizawa. He held his heavy head with his fist on his chin and his elbow on tile. He was going to fall asleep if Vlad didn't fuck him soon.
Finally, a calloused thumb rimmed his entrance – along with a bit of spit – a bit of manipulated blood. Vlad's thumb pulled at the ring of muscle, assessing how much prep work needed to be done. Vlad huffed. Not much prep at all, if any.
Aizawa hummed lowly, his eyelids drooping, until he felt Vlad's thickness pressing into him.
"Ah – ahh," gasped Aizawa as he was stretched open with small, considerate thrusts. Vlad was always a gentleman no matter how much Aizawa taunted him with the class 1-A achievements. He was always gentle. Not that Aizawa minded so much, but he preferred someone a bit more full on, a bit more rough around the edges. As Aizawa daydreamed about old conquests, Vlad made his way deeper and deeper until Aizawa cried out.
"There it is," muttered Vlad. He held Aizawa's hips in place and started fucking into that sweet spot that he knew Aizawa liked. He was a gentleman, of course, always a gentleman.
Aizawa's legs began to tremble as the stimulation proved to be too much. His sweaty hair fell down around his eyes as he struggled to see straight. His stomach coiled and his hard cock bounced unattended to as Vlad fucked him harder.
"Fuck you're tight," groaned Vlad as his fingers bruised pale hips, "I don't know how that's possible anymore."
Aizawa almost laughed. He wasn't sure either since he really got around the pro-hero circle. Perhaps it was good genes, but he couldn't think about that right now, not with his asshole stretched open by the solid, hulking man behind him. Aizawa tried to breathe through the overwhelming sensations as he shook. His arms collapsed and his face landed flat on the cooling bathroom tiles.
"Shit," Aizawa hissed as his recently cheekbone thudded on the floor. Too tired to hold himself up, he just barely managed to turn the other cheek to rest on the ground.
At this point, Vlad's forearm strength was the only thing that kept his ass high in the air and fuckable. He felt like a living doll.
"Fuuck," groaned Vlad as his rhythm changed and he unloaded his balls deep in Aizawa's ass. After a few final, pointed thrusts for good measure, Vlad pulled out and let Aizawa sink to the floor.
"You're such a mess," said Vlad as he cleaned off his shrinking erection, paying no mind to the aching hard-on attached to Aizawa's limp body. "You should get up before someone sees you."
"Great advice," murmured Aizawa in a sex-induced haze as Vlad left and shut the bathroom door behind him. He truly didn't care who saw – maybe they would fuck him too – but eventually the cold floor made his muscles ache. Aizawa sat up, let Vlad's cum drip down his thighs without a second thought, and got back into his uniform to teach the post-lunch classes.
On his way out the door, Aizawa bumped into Hizashi Yamada.
"Oi," yelled Hizashi too loudly when Aizawa stepped on his toes. Hizashi's voice always gave him a headache this early in the day, although it was already past noon.
Hizashi sniffed the air and analyzed Aizawa's disheveled appearance – more disheveled than usual anyways – with the sweaty hair and unbuckled pants. Aizawa saw Hizashi's eyes trailing down as he finished lacing the belt and buckling it tight on his bruised hips.
Aizawa snorted softly, always amused by Hizashi's propriety and prudish sensibilities.
"Sorry, you just missed my last open slot for the day," said Aizawa with a slow wink, "but if you get here before Vlad tomorrow, I'll have lunch ready for you."
"No that's not – that's okay – I don't – " he sputtered.
Hizashi turned beet red instantly and put his hands up as if to defend himself from this lewd invitation. He knew that Aizawa was sexually open. Rumors got around that Aizawa would never say no to anyone or anything. Hizashi had even heard of bets going around on what various colleagues could get Aizawa to agree to. Those bets soon lost their novelty when the players realized that Aizawa would always agree.
Those thoughts ran through Hizashi's mind while he stared at Aizawa with a gaping mouth. He remembered suddenly, he had just been propositioned. How could he have forgotten?
"Ai-Aizawa-san –" started Hizashi.
Aizawa rolled his eyes and brushed past Hizashi. His frame was thin and he could always move in and out of tight spaces. His hair brushed by Hizashi's nose and Hizashi finally recognized that scent. It was all musk and sex and that obtrusive cologne that Vlad wears.
"Don't worry," called Aizawa over his shoulder, "I don't bite."
Then Aizawa left Hizashi alone in the teacher break room, standing halfway through the doorway of their private bathroom. Hizashi took a deep shuddering breath and tried to remind himself of why he had come here. To use the bathroom of course. Yes, that's right. He hurried into one of the stalls, having only a few minutes before class, and rubbed one out so that his students wouldn't catch on to his wildly raging hormones. Aizawa always got him going. Thinking about Aizawa bent over for their colleagues – thinking about what it would be like if Hizashi were brave enough to take that wily man for a ride.
But something about Aizawa scared him too. That lewd and blasé exterior hid something dead and broken inside. Hizashi didn't want to go near it, fearing that whatever it was would only break him in return. And yet, Hizashi was brave. He was a pro-hero for goodness sake. So the very next day, as soon as lunch started, Hizashi was waiting in the bathroom. He had a new packet of cigarettes, the kind he knew Aizawa liked – an offering of sorts – but Aizawa never showed. Instead, Aizawa had been called out to a pro-hero agency to discuss Todoroki Shoto's problematic behavior involving the Hero Killer Stain.
Halfway across the city, Aizawa was sitting face to face with the number two hero: Endeavor. Raging flames made the room unbearably warm, and the smell of ash and smoke made Aizawa a bit light headed. Looking back, he wished he had finished off that water bottle before stepping into Enji's office. Aizawa felt sweat drip down his temple as the temperature slowly increased. If this were a tactic to get him to take his clothes off, it would probably work faster than Enji intended.
"You requested my presence, Todoroki-sama," said Aizawa with a deep bow while he remained seated. It was odd to refer to this man with his student's surname, but the number two hero deserved respect.
Enji got straight to the point.
"I sent my son to your school to make him a hero, not a lawless vigilante," boomed Enji.
The room grew hotter still. Flames licked the ceiling and the wooden desk between them. Aizawa idly wondered what brand of flame retardant kept Enji's possessions safe from his hell flame quirk.
Aizawa bowed in apology, half out of respect, half to hide his yawn as the heat made him sleepy.
"I apologize. It is with my deepest regret that I allowed young Shoto to veer from the path of a hero. As a teacher, his actions are my responsibility. I sincerely feel that it was my failure as mentor that led to Shoto's poor decision making that night. I will rectify this through proper discipline and training – both for myself and your son," said Aizawa as he bowed at the hips. He had rehearsed and recited this apology speech mentally for entire train ride from UA to the Hero Agency.
Enji seemed thoroughly unimpressed and unmoved, but that was to be expected. He had high standards that people rarely met, and so people were apologizing to him day in and day out.
"I have half a mind to withdraw Shoto from UA and enroll him in Shiketsu," said Enji roughly, not accepting the scripted apology.
Aizawa sighed. He knew that Shiketsu was good, but they produced heroes that were half as talented and twice as arrogant as UA heroes. Shoto's ego would flourish, but his talent would suffer. Aizawa knew that if Shoto's talent suffered, his home life would suffer as well. Thinking through his options, Aizawa decided on the most selfish route possible.
He straightened his back, cracked his neck, and stood up to stretch his ribs. A hint of pale skin peaked through the gap between his shirt and his pants.
"Don't you feel warm?" asked Aizawa as he removed his jacket, his scarf, his goggles, and his over-shirt, "because I do." He was left with his baggy pants and a thin black tank top that showed off his lean body. Aizawa plopped back down and threw his feet up on Enji's desk to lean back and relax.
"What the hell are you playing at?" growled Enji, taken aback by Aizawa's sudden change in demeanor and lack of respect.
"I think I can convince you to let Shoto stay – if you'll let me," said Aizawa as he stifled a yawn. "UA is the best school for him and you know it, but I'll work for it if you need an added incentive."
Enji's flaming eyebrows scrunched together as he tried to process this blatantly flirtatious – no, not flirtatious – this blatantly sexual proposition. Interns tried to curry favor in this way every other year or so, but Enji had standards. This was the first time a peer had come on to him in such a way, and Enji thought that maybe he could finally give in to those darker desires for a change. This man was of age. This man was willing.
Enji smirked and his heat died down. He didn't want to kill the poor bastard after all.
"Go on then," he said with a low and still somehow threatening tone.
Aizawa would have smirked if he weren't so tired. He unbuckled his pants and left his shoes on the other side of the desk. Vlad's dried cum was still sticking to his thighs, but he hoped that wouldn't ruin the deal. When Aizawa made it to the other side of the desk, Enji grabbed his elbow, pulled him forward, and pressed him face first into the overheated desk. Hot hands trailed his hips and his thighs as Enji inspected his body. Aizawa thought he may have even heard a chuckle from the stern man behind him.
"Don't tell me I'm the second man you've tried to strike a deal with today," said Enji as his fingers brushed over the dried stains around Aizawa's asshole.
"Wasn't a deal," said Aizawa bluntly, "just a friendly fuck in the bathroom yesterday."
Enji blinked, realizing that indicated a serious lack of hygiene, but something about this grimy mess of a man made his blood rush south.
"If you're trying to convince me that you're a suitable teacher, it's not working," said Enji as he grabbed a cup of water from the water cooler and heated it in his hands. He splashed the steaming liquid down Aizawa's crack and thighs to clean the smaller man's skin.
"Something's working," said Aizawa with a respectful amount of sass for the massive man who was presumably about to wreck his ass.
Enji just chuckled, feeling somewhat lighthearted for the first time since the hero killer incident. Maybe he would call on this absurd teacher more often if things went well. Enji then spit straight down and hit Aizawa's used asshole perfectly.
"Ah! Hot!" yelped Aizawa as he bucked forward. More steaming hot spit followed as Enji prepped Aizawa and got the man ready for what would be the fuck of a lifetime.
"Get ready," warned Enji as he lined up his massive, throbbing cock with Aizawa's entrance.
Slowly, he pressed forward as Aizawa bucked forward and writhed in something akin to agony. He had never been this stretched out before – never been this full of another man's burning hot cock. Aizawa was sure the searing pain would rip him open.
"Do you want to stop?" asked Enji as he paused halfway.
Aizawa took deep, uneven breaths of hot, ashen air. Did he want to stop? Maybe, somewhere deep down. But honestly, he also just really wanted a rough lay after Vlad's subpar efforts.
"Don't stop," breathed Aizawa.
Enji smirked, never having been able to fuck someone up the ass with so little prep before. The spontaneity was exhilarating, and the moment was getting to his head.
"Alright then," growled Enji as he took a fistful of black hair in one hand and a handful of ass in the other. With one sharp snap of his hips, Enji buried his cock deep in Aizawa's burning ass.
Aizawa cried out in pain as his stomach was pushed out of the way and his insides rearranged themselves to make room for Enji's massive girth and length.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," cursed Aizawa as he trembled with his back arched to accommodate the hair pulling that Enji seemed to enjoy, "more spit, god, fuck."
Enji obliged as he started to slip out, giving Aizawa some reprieve while he lubricated the shaft of his cock. Once he was satisfied that he was slick enough to prevent Aizawa from bleeding out, Enji started bucking his hips again.
"Oh fuck," cried Aizawa as involuntary tears of pain clung to his lashes. This man was a mammoth. He had never been with anyone this big – and he wasn't sure he would ever be able to go back.
"Not many people can take me up their ass," breathed Enji as fire rippled across his shoulders, "I think I'll keep you around."
Aizawa tried to nod against the hold in his hair, but he was immobilized as Enji held him in place and rammed his cock from tip to base. Aizawa thought he might throw up at one point. He thought he might burn from the inside out. He thought he might die when Endeavor started pounding his ass so hard that the desk started to bruise the front of Aizawa's thighs.
"Shit," breathed Enji as flames roared and made Aizawa sweat. He pushed Aizawa's head back down into the desk and Enji grabbed the edge of the wood to hold as he felt his climax nearing. Uneven slams shattered Aizawa's world, and his only primal instinct was to cover his head with his arms and hide from the incinerating heat above him. "Yes, fuck," groaned Enji.
Enji's hips spasmed and Aizawa convulsed as he felt something even hotter burning his insides. He could have sworn in was hot enough to blister, but future inspections would disprove that theory.
"Fucking hurts, damn it," groaned Aizawa as Enji pulled out and hot liquid poured from Aizawa's gaping hole.
Enji patted Aizawa's ass twice with a large hand before standing up to go clean up. Aizawa was left once again to tend to himself, but this time he could hardly stand without cringing.
"I would have stopped you know, if it hurt that badly," said Enji with his back turned, but Aizawa couldn't really decipher Enji's tone, "I'm not a monster."
Aizawa just groaned as he rolled off the desk and onto the floor with a thud. He stretched out to reach his clothes and just got dressed on his back like an oversized, overturned beetle.
"I never wanted you to stop," muttered Aizawa, finally answering some sort of insecurity that Enji must have had. He had heard stories of the way Enji treated his wife and kids. Maybe he wasn't a rapist, but he was a monster all the same. Still, that didn't stop Aizawa from enjoying being ruined by the man.
"I'll let Shoto stay at UA," said Enji as he buckled his trousers. "I expect a personal update on his progress next semester."
"Yes, Todoroki-sama," breathed Aizawa as he used the desk to prop himself up.
He winced at the pain that shot through his insides and the liquid that burned down his bruised thighs. With a weak and shallow bow, Aizawa left with his mission accomplished. It was selfish, truly, but the end results were the same. Regardless of the means, he would keep his class intact and his students' safe. On the bright side, Aizawa was sure that young Todoroki would never find out just what his teacher had to do to keep him at UA. Although, the imagined look of rage and horror was enough to make Aizawa chuckle all the way home.
A few days passed and Aizawa could still feel Enji's abuse on his body. His thighs hurt. His ass hurt. Over all, Aizawa was closed for business for the time being because otherwise he was positive he would break something. So, instead of chain smoking in the bathroom while waiting for random men, Aizawa was bundled in his unwashed sleeping bag. He pulled the worn fabric tight around his shoulders as he hunched over a Styrofoam cup of ramen. The steam opened his sinuses and made his aching eyes just a little less dry.
"Yo, Aizawa," called a loud voice, followed by a clanging and scraping of metal chair legs on linoleum.
Aizawa's blood shot eyes raised slowly to see Hizashi had pulled up a chair across the table with a bowl of real leftover ramen. He could smell the tonkotsu broth, richer and fuller than his instant noodles. There were mushrooms, bamboo shoots, and even a bit of pork belly. Aizawa looked between their vastly different meals and felt his mouth water.
"You know we get paid enough to afford nice shit, right?" asked Hizashi.
Aizawa shrugged, picked up his chopsticks, and stirred the shrimp flavored junk food slowly. Then, a few slices of pork belly and half a boiled egg plopped into his instant cup straight from Hizashi's ceramic. Aizawa scrunched his face in confusion, and looked up only to see Hizashi slurping noodles and pretending to mind his own business. He wasn't a charity case, he just constantly misplaced his wallet, but the gesture made something stir in his belly.
"Maybe you're so tired all the time because you don't eat properly," said Hizashi through a mouthful of reheated noodles.
"Maybe," said Aizawa as he took a bite of pork belly and cherished the burst of flavor. But when those delicious toppings were gone, he was left with bland over salted noodles that were no longer satisfying. This was why he didn't get nice things. Nice things went away and ruined the bad things he could have tolerated.
"Didn't see you during lunch," muttered Aizawa. He hadn't been there, but he was sure that Hizashi hadn't shown up, and he just wanted to push a few buttons.
"Yeah, I didn't see you either," said Hizashi with a faint redness on his cheeks. He fumbled in his pockets before pulling out a battered carton of unopened cigarettes – just the kind that Aizawa liked. Hizashi pushed them across the table and said, "take them. I don't smoke."
Aizawa nearly smiled as he picked up the carton and inspected it for no reason.
"I didn't think you would show up," said Aizawa with the tiniest smirk.
"I didn't think I would either," muttered Hizashi before he downed the last of his broth and stood up with a deep spinal stretch, "Well! See you around!"
And Aizawa was left staring at the gift of sweet tobacco in his hands. He was rarely given gifts outside of sexual expectations. Something made his heart beat a little quicker, but he remembered that Hizashi probably did have those sexual expectations, and his heart went back to normal.
Aizawa jumped up uncharacteristically quickly, abandoning his unfinished ramen, and raced out of the break room to catch Hizashi down the hall.
"Oi, Yamada," called Aizawa with a level of formality that he reserved for public settings in front of students.
Hizashi turned around when he heard his surname and scrunched his brows in confusion. Had he left something?
"Next week…are you going to the summer training camp?" asked Aizawa, but he didn't know why he wanted to know. He didn't know why it would matter. Perhaps he just wanted to check off this overly resistant conquest once and for all.
Hizashi shrugged and thought for a moment while he watched Aizawa catch his breath. His disheveled hair looked soft and beautiful. His bloodshot eyes were battle-worn and charismatic. Hizashi felt something stir in his stomach.
"Yeah, uh, I don't know…but I think I might go now," he said quickly and turned to hide the flush on his cheeks. He was a pro-hero, Hizashi told himself, and he would be brave.
"Cool," said Aizawa simply, and he turned on his heels and left, feeling a sense of triumph over an otherwise boring day.