Chapter Seven: Consenescence

Noun: To grow weak and decay together

Moments before Vlad's death, Hizashi heard angry voices echoing in the bathroom. He forced himself out of bed, using the IV stand for support. He opened the door just a crack to peak inside – just to check.

The naked bodies in the shower were entangled.

"You're hurting me."

A piercing wail of agony rang in Hizahsi's ears.

Vlad's hips didn't stop moving.

Rage clouded Hizashi's vision. Hizashi couldn't let this happen – not again. His arms started to move. He bellowed a warning long forgotten.

A flash of metal.

A wet crack.

Vlad's neck snapped to the side at an odd angle. His body fell with a thud, unmoving. He had never seen a body so still.

"He's dead."

"No…" said Hizashi as he shook his head and stumbled back against the wall. It was an accident – an accident – he hadn't meant to take a life. His hands gripped the metal stand until his knuckles turned white. Hizashi's legs trembled once before they gave way. He sank down to the floor and started to hyperventilate. He gasped for air but the air was too thin. "No, no, no."

"Hizashi…" mumbled Aizawa.

But Hizashi couldn't think straight – he felt like he couldn't breathe. Why had he swung so hard? Why had he aimed for the temple? It was such a fragile and vulnerable spot. It didn't make any sense. Hizashi wasn't a violent person by nature.

"I – I didn't mean to…I swear I didn't – I didn't – " he repeated these fragments over and over until perhaps he himself believed that this was an accident, that his anger hadn't gotten the best of him, that he hadn't wanted this, that he hadn't wanted Vlad to die.

"Hizashi, what do we do?" asked Aizawa urgently.

Hizashi finally tore his eyes away from the steadily expanding puddle of blood. He looked up to see Aizawa's wild eyes behind strands of damp hair. Hizashi opened his mouth to speak, but there was nothing – just guilt and excuses and regrets. There was too much happening. Hizashi clutched at his bandages and tried to steady his breaths.

"I don't know, I have no idea what to do," said Hizashi quickly. He wasn't a villain. He didn't know what to do with dead bodies. He stared up at Aizawa, looking for answers, but Aizawa's expression was just as lost.

"Hizashi why…why would you?" sputtered Aizawa with a disjointed gesture in Vlad's direction.

Hizashi didn't have an answer. Why would he do anything like this? His heart was still racing. His hands still shook with left over anger. Hizashi's thoughts just kept flitting back to the moment before he struck:

'You're hurting me.'

Aizawa's pitiful cry. Hizashi had seen white, and then Vlad was dead.

"He was hurting you," said Hizashi desperately.

Aizawa ran his fingers through his hair and bit his lip.

"You didn't have to…not for me," he said with that strained look on his face.

Hizashi's stomach flipped.

"Aizawa…" muttered Hizashi, "how could I stand by and let him do that to you?"

Aizawa averted his eyes and shifted backwards as the pool of Vlad's blood crept closer to his toes.

"I was fine," muttered Aizawa, his arms crossed over his bare chest, "I was okay, I didn't care, Hizashi, goddamnit you didn't have to kill him."

"I told you it was an accident," Hizashi huffed and shook his head, unable to understand Aizawa's lack of dignity and self-respect. He knew that Aizawa was damaged, but this was too much. "Look at me, Aizawa, please," asked Hizashi. He waited until Aizawa's eyes flickered over to him, "Listen, none of that was fine, he was ra – "

Aizawa flinched and cut him off sharply, "Stop. Hizashi, he was just – "

"Raping you," finished Hizashi firmly – needing to justify his own actions. Hizashi could see Aizawa's jaw clench as muscles rippled down his neck. "Doesn't that matter to you?" asked Hizashi, softly this time.

Aizawa grimaced and looked away before muttering, "Who gives a fuck how I feel if it just keeps happening regardless?"

"I do," whispered Hizashi, his heart breaking all over again.

"Well…don't. And don't look at me like that," said Aizawa when his eyes flickered back to see the pitiful look on Hizashi's face.

"I'm sorry," said Hizashi softly, and he saw Aizawa roll his eyes in tandem with a sharp exhale.

"You care too much, Hizashi, it'll just make your life harder," muttered Aizawa, "especially here. They won't stop until I'm dead. If you're going to survive until then, you'll need a thicker skin."

"I'll protect you," said Hizashi. He didn't want to think about those morbid possibilities. They might never leave this place. Vlad wouldn't. They were one down, two to go.

"I don't want you to protect me," said Aizawa simply, looking away again.

"Well it's too late, isn't it?" sighed Hizashi, and let his head fall back against the wall.

A few moments of silence passed before Aizawa responded softly.

"It's not worth your soul, Hizashi," said Aizawa with a limp gesture towards Vlad's broken body, "this isn't who you are – I'm not worth you becoming this person."

And Hizashi couldn't reply, because Aizawa was worth everything. He knew they wouldn't see eye to eye, and so Hizashi groaned as he struggled to his feet.

"Come on," said Hizashi gently, and he extended his hand out to Aizawa across the expanse of blood. Slowly, Aizawa reached out and grasped Hizashi's hand. Together, they used each other for support as they stumbled out of the crime scene and back into their respective beds.

Aizawa curled up in the thin covers and turned his back to Hizashi while Hizashi watched the rise and fall of Aizawa's rib cage. A few moments passed until Hizashi heard a faint, barely there question.

"Do you think I'm a traitor?" asked Aizawa softly, "I never filed a report. I never told anyone. I let them get away with making such a dangerous weapon."

Hizashi sighed and frowned. So that was what happened in the bathroom.

"I know you, Aizawa. I know you're a good person," said Hizashi.

"Maybe, but withholding that vital information – lying by omission when I knew that UA was in danger – that students were in danger," muttered Aizawa, "Maybe I'm not a traitor, but aren't those traitorous acts?"

"You know me" asked Hizashi softly, "I've always believe in good intentions," and Aizawa was quiet for a moment. They always differed on those moral philosophies. He waited while Aizawa steadied his breaths before speaking.

"Giran thought I was dead. I couldn't – " Aizawa's voice caught in his throat and he coughed to clear the tension, "If they knew I didn't die – if they found me again…I couldn't…"

Hizashi heard the pain cutting in Aizawa's voice. He knew what the public would think. He knew what the Pro Hero Code of Ethics required, but he thought about what Aizawa must have gone through. If the sexual abuse of the past forty-eight hours was any indication of what Aizawa's imprisonment was like ten years ago, then Hizashi could understand not wanting to risk being capture again.

"It sounds like you were just trying to survive a bad thing that happened to you," said Hizashi softly, "that doesn't make you a bad person."

"But what I did caused bad things," muttered Aizawa.

"You couldn't have known," said Hizashi.

"I shouldn't have had to know," Aizawa scoffed sharply, "I was…I was supposed to be a hero."

"You are a hero," insisted Hizashi and Aizawa tsked.

"Because of me, you've been abducted and Vlad is dead," said Aizawa with his hands coming up to cover his eyes, not seeing that Hizashi shook his head in response.

"Vlad is dead because of me, Aizawa, not you," said Hizashi firmly.

Aizawa just shrugged under the covers.

"Tell me you understand that," begged Hizashi softly, but Aizawa never replied.

They sat in silence for a long time. Hours passed as they drifted in and out of uncomfortable cycles of sleep. Aizawa didn't want to talk – didn't want to move. Some part of him felt selfish for turning his back on Hizashi. After all, Hizashi had just taken his first life and that wasn't an easy event to cope with, even if it had been an accident. Aizawa took the blame onto himself, feeling that even though Hizashi swung the weapon, Aizawa himself had allowed the events to unfurl in a way that led to Vlad's death. If only he had kept his mouth shut. If only he had just put up with the pain and humiliation. Aizawa had gotten so good at just staying still and taking it – but Dabi had shaken him to his core – made the transgression somehow harder to withstand.

Maybe it was the way they spoke to him here – Vlad and Dabi and Shigaraki. He could withstand the pain, but the verbal assaults were cutting and raw and made it hard to dissociate. Those voices still rang in his ears –

"I've heard rumors about you, Eraser," whispered Shigaraki.

"You look so fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth," murmured Dabi, "you wanna choke on it, babe?"

"Relax," muttered Vlad, "if you're fucking the entire League, then this shouldn't even fucking faze you, right?"

Aizawa sat up quickly when his heart started racing. He didn't want their words racing in his thoughts. But the timing was impeccable. The locks started shifting in the heavy-duty door.

They had a visitor.

Aizawa pulled the bed sheet up around his tensed body. He hoped it wasn't Dabi. Anyone but Dabi, but the universe wasn't listening.

Lo and behold, the devil himself slipped through the metal door with a tray balanced precariously on his fingertips. Aizawa's heart sped up. He watched Dabi – the smirk on his lips that pulled at those glinting piercings. Those cold, lifeless eyes that Aizawa couldn't look at without feeling like he was suffocating again.

"Good evening, pet," said Dabi as the door shut behind him. He presented the tray at eye level with the two men in their beds. The tray held three plates with three to-go bento boxes. Dabi tilted his head as he looked between Aizawa and Hizashi.

"The big one. Where is he?" Dabi asked as he dipped down to check under the beds. The tray stayed perfectly horizontal on his long fingertips with seasoned expertise.

Aizawa bit his lip. There was no way to hide the evidence – no way to predict the consequences.

"You know I hate it when you don't answer me," chided Dabi, and Aizawa shivered despite himself.

"Bathroom," Aizawa said thickly, his throat getting tight. Aizawa swallowed his anxiety and hoped he would choke on it.

Dabi raised one eyebrow. He crossed the entirety of the room in a few long strides. His knuckles rapped against the metal door, but there was no reply. Finally, Dabi opened the door and laughed out loud when he saw the dead body strew across the tiles. He laughed so hard that he doubled over and held his stomach with one hand. Aizawa's teeth clenched. This perverse sense of humor terrified him to no end.

"Well, shit," chuckled Dabi, "I thought you were supposed to be the good guys."

The accusation was too soon and the guilt still stung, but Aizawa didn't reply.

Aizawa's eyes were glued to Dabi's expression, taking in every mannerism in search of that psychotic break that would make his life hell. Dabi just shut the bathroom door with a snicker and a smile. He tossed a bento that landed in Aizawa's lap, and the second bento whizzed over his head to land on Hizashi's bed.

"Eat," ordered Dabi as he unwrapped the remaining bento and sat in Vlad's empty bed on the far wall.

Aizawa stared down at the familiar Family Mart packaging. His heart started beating faster as he read the label stuck onto the plastic wrap.

Kabukicho.

If Dabi had bought these bento boxes at a convenience store near their current location, then that meant they were still in Japan – the red light district of Kabukicho, Tokyo to be exact. Aizawa rubbed his thumb over the label and turned to look at Hizashi, who seemed to have noticed the same piece of information.

They were so close to home.

"Are you deaf?" asked Dabi through a mouthful of sweet rolled omelet.

Aizawa started to open his bento, but he had already lost his appetite. Ten years ago, Giran had been so careful to never disclose any information about their location. They could have been halfway around the world, for all Aizawa knew, but Dabi was so careless. It was a blatant implication that they would take these secrets to their graves, and those graves would be a dumpster in Kabukicho.

Distracted by those morbid thoughts, Aizawa slowly shoveled food into his mouth absentmindedly. He swallowed half-chewed mouthfuls and ignored the nagging thirst. The only source of water was in the bathroom, and his thirst wasn't worth seeing the dead body that mocked him. Accused him. Blamed him.

Eventually, they finished their meals, but Dabi didn't leave. Instead, he watched them like a bird of prey.

"You, blond," started Dabi with a silky smooth tone that suggested oncoming torment, "tell me your name again."

"Present Mic," said Hizashi stiffly.

"Your god given name," said Dabi, still in a light enough mood to entertain disobedience.

"Yamada," said Hizashi, giving only his surname at first before thinking better of that act of defiance, "Yamada Hizashi."

"Hizashi," murmured Dabi, immediately using the least formal form of address, "I see why Shouta likes you – you're pretty eyes, tanned skin, athletic body – let's have fun together."

Dabi offered a smile before rummaging through his oversized pockets. He sucked his teeth, checked an inner pocket, and then pulled a gun from his coat. Aizawa's heart stopped. His limbs went numb. Just as Dabi aimed the gun towards Hizashi, Aizawa dove forward across the bed. The shot rang in the small room and Aizawa felt the rush of air against his throat as the projectile careened inches from his jugular. There was a thwacking sound and Hizashi groaned in pain behind him. Aizawa whipped around to see a tranquilizer dart wobbling in Hizashi's pectoral muscle.

"Are you okay?" breathed Aizawa, fear still thrumming in his veins. He could see his own heartbeat throbbing in his peripheral vision.

Hizashi – still frozen in shock from the fear of being shot at point blank range – nodded blankly as he stared down at the dart in his chest. He pulled it out with shaking hand and let the needle fall to the floor.

It was the anti-quirk serum, but at least it wasn't a bullet.

"Now we can have fun," said Dabi as he put the dart gun away and rummaged through his pockets for something else. He smiled and said, "Shouta, babe, you were so good for me yesterday. I got you a present."

Aizawa swallowed and his eyelids fluttered when he saw the small object in Dabi's hands. It was a small bottle of lubricant that glistened in the light. Aizawa's heart dropped.

"Don't be frightened, pet," murmured Dabi with light chuckle, "not yet, anyways."

Then, Dabi tossed the bottle of lubricant across the room. It flew in a shallow arc over Aizawa's head and landed perfectly in Hizashi's lap just like the bento. Aizawa's eye widened in apprehension, but Hizashi's head was tilting in confusion.

"You killed the third one, didn't you, Hizashi?" guessed Dabi quietly, making Hizashi sputter, "Or should I call you Hero Killer?"

The evidence was obvious and damning. It didn't take a forensic specialist to understand the blood splatter on Hizashi's face and the broken IV stand dropped next to the body.

Hizashi opened his mouth to defend himself, but Dabi waved away the stammered attempts at an explanation.

"I don't care – I'm not your judge, nor your jury, but I am your potential executioner," murmured Dabi as he took out his phone, "so, you should probably do exactly what I tell you to do."

Aizawa drew his knees up to his chest and pressed his forehead into his kneecaps. He wanted to disappear.

"What do you want?" asked Hizashi quietly.

"I told you already – we're going to have fun together," said Dabi, making Aizawa's stomach flip, "And by that I mean – try not to murder me while I fuck your boyfriend, Hero Killer."

Aizawa swallowed. Color left his face.

"He's already injured," protested Hizashi weakly, "you'll hurt him."

Dabi smirked and said, "That's the point."

Aizawa's temples started to throb with stress. Hadn't he just been through this? Hadn't he been punished enough? The smell of ash preceded Dabi's arrival at his bedside. He didn't look up. He felt gentle fingers brushing through his hair – almost sweet – but those fingers wrapped around the hair at the base of his neck. Dabi yanked Aizawa's hair down to make Aizawa look up, making Aizawa wince. Staring upwards, he saw that bemused smile – those gleaming lifeless eyes – he felt like he couldn't breathe.

"I have plans for us," said Dabi gently, "are you going to play along?"

"Always," whispered Aizawa, hoping Hizashi couldn't hear, but to refuse this man was too terrifying to consider.

Dabi leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss against Aizawa's forehead. His rough lips scraped against Aizawa's thin skin. Dabi's breath was burning hot.

"Good, keep making me happy, Shouta," whispered Dabi, his lips still pressing against Aizawa's forehead as he scooped Aizawa up into his arms. The bed sheet draped around Aizawa, and he felt weightless against Dabi's torso. Dabi sidestepped the center bed and took a few long strides to Hizashi's bedside.

Aizawa refused to look towards Hizashi's expression. The shame would have overwhelmed him – but then Dabi dropped Aizawa in Hizashi's lap and pulled the bed sheets away. The fabric fluttered to the ground, leaving Aizawa completely naked on Hizashi's covered thighs. Both their cheeks and collarbones flushed a deep red. Aizawa barely had time to get used to this before Dabi grabbed his hair again and pulled him down towards the bottom of the bed. Aizawa nearly yelped and reached for his hair as strands were pulled loose between Dabi's fingers.

Dabi pulled until Aizawa ended up on his back, belly up, and completely naked – Aizawa's head at Hizashi's feet – Aizawa's legs strew awkwardly up and around Hizashi's torso. Dabi pulled Aizawa further down the bed until his neck arched and his skull hung upside down over the edge of the bed until he was eye level with Dabi's belt. Aizawa had been in this position before. He knew what Dabi wanted. He could almost feel his lungs suffocating already.

"What are you – don't do this," stammered Hizashi, and Aizawa could feel Hizashi trying shift back and escape the set up that Dabi was creating.

"If you're going to do any prep, do it now," said Dabi as he tested a gentle grip around Aizawa's exposed neck.

"I don't understand," croaked Hizashi, and Aizawa could feel Hizashi legs shaking around his hips.

Dabi unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants.

"The last man I fucked bled out – thought I might try to prevent that this time since Shigaraki would throw a fit," said Dabi casually, "but I'm not a patient man, so you can prep him, or I'll just fuck him dry and see what happens."

Aizawa felt ice-cold terror on his skin and in his veins. Could someone really die from that? How brutal did Dabi have to be to achieve such a terrifying outcome?

Aizawa was starting to realize that his survival had been entirely accidental last time. Wasn't Dabi supposed to in charge while the others were away? Wasn't he supposed to at the very least keep them alive? It seemed like Dabi didn't care much either way. In that moment, Aizawa never thought he could be so desperate for Giran to come back.

"Well?" asked Dabi as he pressed his crotch against Aizawa's upside down face, but Hizashi didn't move, "Maybe your friend needs some encouragement. What do you think, Shouta?"

Dabi's hand hooked around Aizawa's throat. His palm started to get hotter and hotter until the skin itched. He knew that Dabi wanted him to debase himself and put on a show.

"Hizashi…" breathed Aizawa, trying to overcome the embarrassment that caught his tongue and the heat that made his vocal chords ache, but the words didn't come soon enough.

Dabi placed that warm hand in the center of Aizawa's chest. Without warning, Dabi's hand went up in bright blue flames.

"Don't hurt him!" cried out Hizashi.

"Fuck," Aizawa cried out as his quirk activated instinctively, and the fire against his skin went out. He took a shaky breath before trying again – quicker now.

"Hizashi," he started again, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice, "Please help me. Please make it less painful."

"Be specific, babe," muttered Dabi.

Shame made Aizawa's lips purse, but he didn't want to die here. He didn't want Hizashi to die here.

"Hizashi…" started Aizawa awkwardly, his eyes closing as he tried to feel less, "I want your fingers inside of me – I want you to make me wet – please, Hizashi."

Aizawa would have blushed if blood weren't already rushing to his head from being upside down. He could feel Hizashi hesitance.

"Please, you said you wanted to protect me, 'Zashi," begged Aizawa, and he felt fumbling hands starting to move around his hips. He heard the snap of a bottle cap opening. A cool, gelatinous substance dripped haphazardly onto his stomach.

"I'm sorry," whispered Hizashi before one cold, shaking, slippery finger pushed through his entrance.

"Ahh," gasped Aizawa as he shifted uncomfortably.

The lubricant stung Aizawa's raw skin and micro tears. He could feel Hizashi's fingers slipping over ridges deep inside of him – internal scar tissue left by careless men who had been too rough. Aizawa cringed and wanted to close his legs and pull away, but he knew better. He would tolerate the humiliating vulnerability and everything would be okay. Dabi seemed mild and tame at the moment, just brushing his twitching bulge ever so gently against Aizawa's face while Hizashi worked. It was okay. Aizawa could handle this.

He didn't want to risk bringing out that sadistic side he knew all too well.

Aizawa breathed and tried to relax, tried to make Hizashi's task easier. He heard the squirt of additional lube. Another hesitant finger joined the first, and Aizawa flinched at the pressure on existing wounds. Hizashi paused and let Aizawa adjust.

Then Dabi's fingers drifted over Aizawa's mouth, slipped through his chapped lips and pulled his jaw open with a hooked finger. Dabi took out his cock and pressed the tip into Aizawa mouth. It tasted unwashed and ashen, but the thrusts were mercifully shallow.

Aizawa felt Hizashi hesitate when Dabi started using his mouth to pass the time.

"I want you to fuck him, Hero Killer," ordered Dabi as he pumped his hips lazily, "open him up a little more for me."

Aizawa coughed in surprise around Dabi's cock, but the action made Dabi press deeper against Aizawa's gag reflex.

"I can't – I thought you – " stammered Hizashi, and Aizawa could feel Hizashi's fingers trembling as they slipped out of his entrance.

Dabi just laughed and said, "I changed my mind."

Hizashi didn't move.

Dabi's hands drifted over Aizawa's chest and drew lazy circles. He tweaked Aizawa nipples with hard pinches and then pressed both palms flat into the center of Aizawa's torso.

"I don't like repeating myself," murmured Dabi, and Aizawa knew what was coming. He rushed to activate his quirk, but a sharp snap from Dabi's thrusts sent his cock down Aizawa's throat. The bruising, unnatural pain and panic of suffocation made his quirk falter. Dabi's hands started to burn until Aizawa swore he could smell his seared flesh. Aizawa would have screamed if not for the cock blocking his airways. His body thrashed to get away from the scorching pain on his chest, but Dabi was pressing down hard enough to make his ribs bend and ache.

"STOP – I'll do it just stop – please stop!" cried Hizashi panicked voice, and the fire subsided but the burning in his skin kept Aizawa's body flailing like a wounded animal.

Aizawa's vision was white with pain and asphyxiation. Half lucid, his twitching fingers searched his burning skin only to discover painful, bubblng blisters in the center of his chest. He could barely process the sound of Hizashi desperately jerking off and trying to get hard enough to fuck him.

"I'm sorry," moaned Hizashi again, his tone deeper now with a hint of self-loathing, his voice shaking with the effort of his futile masturbation, "I'm so sorry – I'm trying."

Aizawa thought he could feel droplets of tears hitting his stomach. His eyes rolled back as his lungs throbbed. This time, Aizawa hardly recognized his need for air. The blistering pain on his skin drowned out every other physical discomfort. He didn't want to feel that way again.

Hazily, he wished he could reassure Hizashi – tell him that everything would be okay – beg him to make it okay so that Dabi wouldn't burn him again.

He felt Dabi's finger brush against his lips straining and stretching around Dabi's cock. His lips must have been turning blue. It seemed like Dabi liked that sort of thing. His vision was going black. Dabi probably liked that too.

"Time is running out," breathed Dabi softly, and Aizawa heard Hizashi choke back a sob. "Do you want him to die, Hero Killer?"

Aizawa reached blindly for Hizashi's thigh with the last dregs of energy in his body, and squeezed as if to say – I'll forgive you.

Perhaps Hizashi understood, because slowly, Hizashi shifted onto his knees and lifted Aizawa's hips up. He lined up with Aizawa's entrance and pushed ever so gently. With a pop, the tip of his half-hard cock slid through the slippery ring of muscle. Stinging pain made Aizawa shudder and jerk despite the prep that Hizashi had done.

Then, Dabi withdrew from Aizawa's throat. Aizawa gasped for breath. His chest heaved to pull in oxygen but the movement made his blistered skin erupt in another fresh wave of pain. With full lungs, Aizawa couldn't stop himself from screaming. The unyielding torture of burnt flesh was more than he could handle. He writhed on Hizashi's cock, hardly noticing that Hizashi was even there.

Dabi knelt down and chuckled in Aizawa's ear. He kissed Aizawa's temple gently.

"My perfect, obedient little whore," whispered Dabi, his voice like gravel and his breath like brimstone, "You want it that badly, huh? You fuck yourself loose on his cock even after I set you on fire. You depraved, nasty slut."

Aizawa was still whining in pain and buckling his body as if he could find a position that would make it hurt less. He barely heard Dabi's cruel words, but he heard a moan slip out of Hizashi's mouth and that almost hurt more than the blisters on his chest.

Dabi noticed the chain of events and laughed softly.

He whispered so that Hizashi couldn't hear, "Sounds like he likes it, Shouta. Keep going, kitten, you were made for this."

Aizawa cringed and turned away. His eyes stung. He tried to still his hips, but his body still twitched and undulated in pain.

"Now look pretty for the camera, babe, and open up," muttered Dabi as he stood up, and Aizawa heard the bell tone that signified the start of a video recording.

Aizawa opened his mouth robotically and took a deep breath, hoping it would be over soon. Dabi immediately sank his cock deep into Aizawa's throat and started a brutal pace that forced Aizawa's hips down on Hizashi's cock. A ripping pain tore through Aizawa that made his hips buck and try to pull away – but he was spit-roasted between them and the fullness was tearing him apart.

Hizashi shuddered and moaned again despite himself when his shaft impaled Aizawa to the hilt over and over again. Hizashi couldn't move back any further – couldn't make his violation any more shallow. His back was pinned against the headboard and Dabi's hips pistoned Aizawa's body into motion. He tried not to move – tried to will his half hard dick not to grow rigid and large within Aizawa's fragile membranes – but his body fell prey to the rapid bouncing of Aizawa's ass against his hips. Hizashi's cock grew and heat coiled in his stomach, but the visions of horror and the sounds of choking made him want to curl up and die. Hizashi closed his eyes and waited for it to end, and Aizawa Enjied to do the same.

Aizawa's flaccid cock bounced on his thighs and stomach. Even if he wanted to, Aizawa couldn't find any pleasure in the pain that ripped him apart and seared his skin. He was fading, and Aizawa barely heard Dabi's voice narrating to the camera through his own sounds of gagging and retching around Dabi's cock.

"I hope you enjoyed the last video, Father," breathed Dabi gently through sharp, angry thrusts, "I'll keep making them for you until I break your toy."

Dabi flexed his hips deeper until Aizawa's teeth cut against his own lips from the pressure of Dabi's pelvic bone.

"I just want to show you, Father, that anything you care about – anything you touch – anyone you get close to – even this filthy, single use whore you fucked on your desk – yeah, I know about that – I'll destroy it – all of it," grunted Dabi with a final thrust before he pulled out and came over Aizawa's face. Hot ropes of cum shot into Aizawa's rolled back eyes and gasping mouth. Oxygen flooded his brain and made him lightheaded. He was so grateful for the end of Dabi's abuse that he could barely even process the crazed rant that Dabi had recorded for – for his father? Someone Aizawa had already fucked?

Then, Dabi slapped Aizawa across the face – hard.

Aizawa saw stars.

By the time his vision cleared, Dabi had ended the video and was buckling his belt.

Hizashi slipped out gently without coming, and Aizawa curled onto his side with a groan of agony. Aizawa barely noticed Hizashi's sobs that shook the bed. The pitiful sounds were the only sounds that broke the silence in the room, and Dabi left without another word.

"It hurts," whined Aizawa as soon as they were alone.

Aizawa's felt Hizashi shuffle out of bed and take the pillow by Aizawa's feet.

"Hold on," croaked Hizashi as he tried to steady himself.

The door to the bathroom opened. He heard the sound of running water and rustling fabric. When Hizashi returned, he held a soaked pillowcase.

"I'm sorry, Aizawa," whispered Hizashi before he laid the cold, damp fabric over Aizawa's burns. The shock of the temperature change made Aizawa gasp, but it was better than the painful heat that lasted under his skin. Aizawa finally looked up and saw Hizashi's tear streaked, splotchy red face.

"Please don't apologize," breathed Aizawa, he didn't want to be pitied. He wanted to brush it under the rug and forget like every other trauma in his life.

But Hizashi wouldn't meet his eyes and continued, "I know you asked – that he made you ask – but I didn't…I shouldn't have."

Aizawa stared at Hizashi for a moment. The pain that warped Hizashi's face just felt foreign and made Aizawa feel inhuman. Aizawa's body was in agony, but his heart and his mind were empty now that the danger was gone. Aizawa was dissociating and couldn't bring himself to feel anything more than a morbid sense of normalcy.

This was his life.

This was how people treated him.

This was normal.

Aizawa reached out for Hizashi's hand and interlaced their fingers. He didn't know what to say, but all that came out was, "it's okay, Hizashi."

Hizashi withdrew his hand and shook his head, "It's not. Nothing is. I – I raped you, Aizawa. I should have fought him – I – I…"

Hizashi's voice broke. He doubled over with his face in his hands as tears started falling again.

Aizawa frowned. Aizawa already had a laundry list of rapists. He didn't need Hizashi adding himself to the list unnecessarily.

"Don't…don't say that," whispered Aizawa softly, "He would have killed you, Hizashi. He would have killed me."

Hizashi's hands clutched in his tangled hair, and he yelled, "I should have died then!"

The shout made Aizawa startle with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry," muttered Hizashi, "I'm sorry."

Aizawa looked away.

"I'm glad it was you instead of Dabi," muttered Aizawa, feeling an odd sense of fear after Hizashi's outburst. He took a deep breath. He didn't want to be afraid. He wanted to dissociate and never come back.

"I thought I could protect you here," said Hizashi softly.

"You can't," whispered Aizawa. Hizashi cared too much, and Aizawa fought tooth and nail not to let that get to him. His defenses were solid. He didn't have to feel this. He didn't –

"I thought our first time would be different," said Hizashi.

An unwanted tear escaped Aizawa's lash line.

Aizawa's dissociation was crumbling. He couldn't think about what could have been. Those wistful thoughts would break him, and Aizawa didn't think he would recover.

"I thought…" muttered Hizashi, but then he stopped, because Aizawa had started to cry.

Meanwhile, not too far away and unbeknownst to them, the Pro Hero Endeavor felt his phone buzz in his pocket while he worked late on paperwork. He checked the screen and saw that it was from the same unknown number as the day before. Another video file was attached, but this time a message appeared as well:

Unknown: Ignoring me, Father?

And with a scowl, Enji turned off his phone for the night.