Thrill of the Hunt

by ReadOrDieTrying

"I mean it, Hitoshi. Do not run from me." Aizawa says lowly, a warning. Because the anger is shifting, his focus wholly redirected, and Shinsou is at the center of it despite how desperately Aizawa wishes he wasn't. He can't help himself. "Why not?" he asks, and Aizawa can hear how breathless his boy is, see how his body shifts, muscles flexing, like he's getting ready to... run.

The entire fucking mission was shit.

The heroes Aizawa got saddled with were all incompetent glory seekers who were only worried about their images in the media and how the mission would affect their rankings in the popularity polls. And Aizawa is almost positive they were doing it on purpose, because no one is that obnoxious.

The only reason they even succeeded in gathering the intel—without starting a full on war with a local gang in the middle of a busy city street—was because of him.

And even though the mission was declared a success, and no one was injured, Aizawa is still seething and practically dripping with enough pent up aggression to level a city block by the time everything is said and done. And yeah, he may sound like one of those old school heroes who complain about the newer generation, but Aizawa is right, unlike them.

These newer heroes were garbage and he was tired of getting saddled with them.

So, the instant they are cleared to leave, gear in tow and multiple glares thrown in every direction as he kicks open the door to the agency, Aizawa is making an immediate beeline for the gym. Because he needs to work this off before he rips into someone, literally rips into them with his teeth, and has to deal with an HR complaint a mile long.

The gym he usually goes to is only a fifteen minute walk from the agency (an eight minute run on a bad night) and Aizawa is almost half way there when his phone makes that annoying twinkling sound that Shinsou programmed into it for when he sends him messages. Aizawa misses his old notification sound, it wasn't as annoying.

H: free yet? Or are they still holding you hostage?

There's an image of a bear tied to a chair under the message that Aizawa blatantly ignores, he's just not in the mood.

S: Going to the gym. Bad night.

He's irritated, but not at Shinsou, so he tries not to let it show in his message. But his skin feels like it's crawling, like it's on too tight and the best way to fix it would be to spend the next few hours bruising his knuckles on a punching bag and running until his lungs burn from the exertion and his muscles feel like they'll slide right off his bones like overly tender spare ribs. Aizawa learned the hard way that hand to hand sparring was a terrible idea when he was like this.

H: The one by the agency?

H: They're closed for renovations for the rest of the week.

Aizawa comes to a sudden and complete stop in the middle of the sidewalk.

Someone runs into him a couple seconds after he does and the unfortunate moron turns to try and give Aizawa an earful before they see his face (he's definitely wearing what Shinsou calls 'The Death Glare') and decides to continue on without a word. Smart man.

Closed?

S: Are you sure?

Aizawa really can't handle this tonight. Without the gym he'd be forced to go back home and do some barely passable workout that wouldn't do anything but aggravate him more. Even if he ran home at this point he's not sure if it would settle the tension pulling at his chest.

H: Yeah, stopped by before patrol.

H: There's a sign and everything.

Aizawa curses under his breath and, in a desperate bid for something, looks up the nearest gym that's open at this hour…it's literally on the other side of town.

Another message from Shinsou drops down over the map he's currently staring at and Aizawa feels some kind of hope spark to life inside him.

H: You can always join me on patrol if you need to blow off some steam.

Aizawa only half considers it. A good patrol might give him some action, some half brained mugger or villain to chase down and wail on and expel some of this pent up energy… but it would also put Shinsou in his line of sight.

He's always tried his best to stay away from the kid when he gets like this, not liking the hunger that always shoots through him at the prospect of taking out his frustration on the person who means the most to him.

And he's been diligent thus far, always careful to hit the gym or take on extra patrols to avoid being alone with Shinsou while he feels like this. There's only ever been one incident where Shinsou came back from a mission a day early and Aizawa had to lock himself in their little home gym and run himself to near death on the treadmill before he could even look at his past student… boyfriend?

And this was before they somehow ended up in this quasi relationship that's mostly them having sex and passing out together before one, or both, of them have to run off for some patrol or mission (or school in Aizawa's case). It's something Aizawa tries not to dwell on, the reality of him fucking one of his ex-students, especially given that everyone already liked to give him shit about Shinsou always being his favorite. His favorite boy.

Though how the relationship came into being is another thing entirely.

After Shinsou graduated, he immediately went to work for an agency that catered to underground heroes (Aizawa was quick to vet them and give his approval). Shinsou was adamant about wanting to remain out of the spotlight, follow in his sensei's footsteps and all that, and Aizawa was more than happy to help him achieve his goal.

During one of their customary lunches—mostly them drinking ridiculous amounts of coffee and complaining about work—Shinsou mentioned he needed to find a new apartment because he was going broke paying for the one he was in when he was rarely home.

Aizawa still isn't sure why he was so quick to offer his place, at least back then he wasn't, but two days later Shinsou was moved in and it was an easier adjustment than Aizawa expected.

They both kept obnoxious schedules but always seemed to run into each other in the early morning hours, before the sun was even a thought in the skyline and the majority of the world around them remained sleeping. Shinsou would come stumbling in at three am and face plant on the couch beside Aizawa, begging for food while he graded papers or ran through reports, and the two of them would spend those few hours together in that comfortable way that Aizawa has come to rely on.

But then there was a weekend, some random weekend in the middle of summer, where neither of them had work . One beer became two and then six and then Shinsou was in his lap, heated skin against his, and then they were in Aizawa's bed, Shinsou under him moaning his name like a prayer...and that was it.

Aizawa remembers waking up to Shinsou sleeping beside him, naked body covered in countless dark bruises and bitemarks, and scratches so deep they welled with dried blood, and feeling something dark and possessive grip him so tightly he couldn't take his next breath.

But after that night he made it a point to handle Shinsou with care, doing everything in his power to not lose control like that again. Especially because Aizawa wanted to do it again. He wanted to do so much worse to his favorite boy.

The memory of it makes the ache worse, makes his knuckles itch and this need he has to rip into someone burn like fire through his veins. Aizawa glances at his phone again, struggling with his choice while knowing there's a possibility it could turn out badly if he can't get it together...

But tonight he's desperate enough to risk it, he needs this, and Aizawa sends back an affirmative to Shinsou's offer before he can think better of it. He should really think better of it.

Shinsou drops his location, a rooftop not fifteen minutes away, and Aizawa straps his gear to his back and takes off at a run in the opposite direction of the gym. The air feels heavy tonight, thick with the scent of rain, and Aizawa does his best not to think about how foreboding it feels, especially tonight.

The run helps, the feeling of his feet moving, his blood rushing in his ears, and the burn in his legs and lungs as he sprints through allies and up a fire escape onto the building Shinsou is perched on tonight. But the second he stops, the instant his feet are still and he's no longer moving, no longer on the hunt—fuck, Aizawa hates that's what it feels like, like he's hunting Shinsou meeting up like this and it feels good.

"Look what the cat dragged in." comes a familiar, amused voice that does nothing to help his current state. "Looks like said cat might have fucked you up a bit before he finally decided to do it though." The last part is murmured in Shinsou's usual brand of humor and Aizawa chooses to ignore it in favor of dropping his gear by the fire escape.

Shinsou's perched on the roof ledge, one leg dangling off and the other tucked under him, careless as always. He's in his usual gear, his mask and capture weapon, and a black jumpsuit with utility gear strapped all over him. Aizawa knows for a fact there are at least four knives on him right now.

"...did you run all the way here?" Shinsou asks, eyeing Aizawa from head to toe, no doubt noting the sheen of sweat covering his brow and the faster than usual rise and fall of his chest as he tries to calm his racing heart.

"Yeah." Aizawa grunts. "Faster than taking a cab."

"Oh it must have been a really shit mission then. Haven't seen that look in a while." And there's this knowing shine to Shinsou's eyes as he grins, all mischief and reckless teasing that sets Aizawa's teeth on edge. It's enough to get his pulse up on a good day, tonight it feels like nails against his skin.

It feels too much like stalking prey when he slowly starts moving forward, so Aizawa plants his feet and doesn't take another step, Shinsou's eyes tracking the odd behavior like he's cataloging it away for later.

"Any action tonight?" He asks, ignoring Shinsou's unwavering stare. Aizawa can practically feel those violet eyes on his skin, touching, prodding, and his paper thin restraint can't handle it tonight.

"Nope." Shinsou answers with an exaggerated pop on the 'p'. "It's been quiet all night. But I thought you wouldn't mind keeping me company for a while, ya know, since you were jonesing so hard for something to do." The suggestive tone doesn't go unnoticed by Aizawa, but it does go ignored, and Shinsou shoots him a dramatic pout when he doesn't get the response he wants.

"Well you're no fun." He says as he finally hops down from the ledge.

"Aren't you a little old for games, Hitoshi?" And Aizawa could kick himself for even indulging Shinsou this much.

"You would know, cradle robber."

It's a joke he's heard multiple times, Shinsou's playful little dig at their age difference, at the fact that Aizawa is the one who trained him and even took him out to celebrate the night he turned eighteen. Tonight it feels almost like a taunt, like he's twisting the knife to get a response.

It's very close to working.

"If there's no reason to be up here, then I'm heading to the gym across town." He really doesn't want to, but desperate times meant suffering the journey.

"Wow. You'd really rather spend hours in some sweaty, overpriced gym than go a few rounds with me?" Another dig laced in that joking manner. Aizawa's so on edge he's ready to tip over.

"I'm not in the mood for this tonight, Hitoshi."

"What? It's isolated and everything. No one would even hear us, watch," Shinsou walks to the ledge closest to the busy street and screams at the top of his lungs. It's a long, drawn out noise that filters through the night air like static and rings in Aizawa's ears when he finally stops. "See? no one even looked up."

Aizawa takes a quick glance down… and he's right. Not a single head turned to look in their direction. "No one would hear us, no one would see us… I could be as loud as I want and no one would even come to my rescue. Poor little me."

God… that image, Shinsou pinned, helpless, yelling for help while Aizawa takes him apart...no. No, stop it. This was the exact reason why he didn't want to come up here tonight. He was already losing it.

"No. Absolutely not. You're still on patrol." Yeah, that was a good enough reason to avoid that suspicious gaze. Aizawa didn't want Shinsou looking for reasons to ask questions, he just didn't want to lose his shit and do something he would regret.

"Literally nothing ever happens here! I've been stuck on this roof for the last week and haven't seen a hint of action the entire time." Shinsou's staring him down and Aizawa is trying with all his might not to read into the challenge behind it. "What? Are you scared? We could make it a little game if you want? How does tag sound? Or even...hide and seek. You can run and come find me. That should wear you out."

Shinsou does a little side step/skip motion, bouncing on the balls of his feet towards the opposite end of the rooftop, faking like he's about to take off running, and Aizawa's control slips.

"Don't you fucking dare." The words come out so hard, so rough, Shinsou actually stops dead in his tracks, eyebrows shooting up into his hairline.

"Oh? And what if I do it anyway, huh? What then?"

"I mean it, Hitoshi. Do not run from me." Aizawa says lowly, a warning. Because the anger is shifting, his focus is wholly redirected, and Shinsou is at the center of it despite how desperately Aizawa wishes he wasn't. He can't help himself.

"Why not?" he asks, and Aizawa can hear how breathless his boy is, see how his body shifts, muscles flexing, like he's getting ready to do the very thing Aizawa just warned him not to do. Reckless. Typical.

"Because I'll fucking catch you." He finally says, more grow than actual words.

It's more than that, so much more than that, and Shinsou is playing with fire. Aizawa won't be able to stop, not tonight. "Hitoshi, I'm serious."

"That's the whole point of the game, old man." Shinsou teases, eyes sparkling in the low light, but Aizawa can see how fast his heart is beating by the rapidly pumping pulse point on his throat. "Or are you not fast enough to keep up with me? Yeah, you definitely couldn't catch me. I'm told old age makes for a terrible hunter in the wild. At least that's what they said on Animal Planet."

The challenge, that blatant fucking challenge, has Aizawa taking a step forward, fists clenched, teeth bared. But he stops, muscles straining with the willpower it takes to bring his entire body to a statuesque stand still, and he levels Shinsou with a look so heated the young hero actually takes a step back. Terrible idea.

Aizawa is ready to give him another warning, a real one this time because he's already riding a very thin line, no, the fucking line is gone, buried in the dust along with the remainder of his self control. And Shinsou seems dead set on ignoring the danger he's playing with—

Shinsou takes off. Despite the clear warnings he's been given, he takes the fuck off.

Aizawa blinks and he's running, full sprint, and leaping from the roof top without a second thought. His capture weapon flying out to catch him as Shinsou swings from the building and into the night without a single glance back, expecting Aizawa to follow… wanting him to follow.

There's a split second, a moment where he tells himself not to do it, not to be baited like this, but it's so quickly overshadowed, swallowed entirely, by the rapid beat of his heart and the need clawing at every instinct he has to catch what's his…

He's in the air and hot on Shinsou's tail a moment later, all doubt gone as he maneuvers between the buildings and through the air with lightning quick reflexes in search of his prey.

Shinsou is heading away from the more populated area, swinging so fast between buildings and over rooftops Aizawa would have lost him by now if he hadn't been the one who trained him. He can read Shinsou's movements as he maneuvers through the air, the shifting of weight and angling of his body that tells him exactly where Shinsou will move next.

They round a corner, apartment buildings and businesses turning into warehouses and abandoned buildings along the way, and Shinsou launches himself into the air and on top of the roof of the building in front of them. Aizawa doesn't know what game the kid is playing or what he thinks will come of this, but he's sure Shinsou isn't prepared for what will happen when Aizawa finally gets his hands on him.

Aizawa isn't sure he's prepared for what will happen.

He swings onto the roof right behind him, ready to take off running again to make sure Shinsou doesn't get away, but there's no need. Shinsou is standing on the opposite end of the roof, balanced on the very edge and grinning at Aizawa like he's been waiting for this.

"Getting a little slow there, Sensei?" he teases, and Aizawa wastes no time in stalking towards him.

"You're going to regret this, Hitoshi. This isn't a game." But it feels like one, a dangerous game that neither of them should be playing. Not when Aizawa is literally dreaming of tearing into those soft, pale thighs with his teeth.

"Oh?" Shinsou's grin never falters. "But what if I like games?"

"I just said—" Aizawa starts with a growl before he's interrupted with a short;

"I heard you."

There's that fucking challenge in his eyes again, knife sharp and unwavering despite Aizawa's constant warnings. Shinsou doesn't care about the danger, or maybe he really thinks this is a game… either way there's no turning back now.

"I always hear you, see you… I think it's time for a little action… ya know, if you can keep up."

Aizawa sees it coming before the words have even left Shinsou's mouth. He's running again just as Shinsou jumps from the roof to send them on another wild chase through the night. There's not a hint of doubt or hesitation as Aizawa follows after him. Shinsou was warned, and Aizawa tried to stop this…

They're flying between the buildings so fast that one mistake could easily have them crashing into a brick wall or falling to their deaths. Somehow the added danger makes Aizawa's heart pound harder and his blood rush in his ears, and it fuels him as he swings up and over a half destroyed building to get ahead of Shinsou and cut him off.

They're getting closer to the docks, the warehouses becoming less run down the closer they get, and Aizawa is determined to get ahold of his favorite boy before they reach it.

He launches himself onto a nearby building, directly in Shinsou's path, and sprints along the edge to gain enough momentum to throw himself into the air again, the capture weapon biting into his hands from the force of it. Aizawa is positive he's got the drop on him, there's no way Shinsou will see him coming, so when his protege comes flying around the building he's stunned when—rather than maneuver out of the way and into Aizwa's perfectly laid trap—Shinsou comes for him head on.

They collide mid-air, the impact knocking the air from Aizawa's lungs, and Shinsou uses that split second of inaction to slam Aizawa into the wall with a boot to his chest, the two of them hanging in the air like some kind of twisted Cirque du Soleil act.

"See, that's what happens when you hold back, old man." Shinsou laughs, his smile so wide it looks painful. "You've gotta do better than that if you're gonna catch me."

Aizawa grits his teeth and reaches out to grab Shinsou's ankle and yank him forward until he's all but straddling Aizawa's chest, the two of them hanging in the air as they pant out each breath through the electrically charged tension between them. Even this little bit of contact feels like too much and not enough. So he holds tight when Shinsou tries to kick him off, face a mask of heat and fury.

"Nothing can save you now. I hope you're ready for this."

"What makes you think I need saving?"

Shinsou kicks at him again, and when that fails to shake Aizawa loose, he pushes away from the building just enough to plant his other boot on Aizawa's chest and press his full weight against him. Aizawa manages to hold on a few moments more before he's forced to release Shinsou in order to take a full breath. It's all the little shit needs to pull himself up and scale the building.

"Desperate enough to play dirty?" he grunts, but he knows it's loud enough for Shinsou to hear him. "Worried about what will happen when I finally catch you?" Because there was no doubt that Aizawa would catch him, it was only a matter of when.

"If I don't play dirty now, when will I ever get the chance?"

If Shinsou wanted to play dirty, then they would play dirty.

Shinsou's capture weapon is still hanging just a few feet above Aizawa's head, slack while Shinsou gets his bearings and prepares to fire off into the night again. Except Aizawa isn't going to let that happen. He pulls himself up and grabs the capture weapon, winds it around his hand a few times, and yanks it as hard as he can.

Shinsou makes a startled yelping sound before Aizawa watches him fall from the roof, limbs flailing as he tries to save himself. He does manage to catch himself on the side of the building, a heated glare being thrown in Aizawa's direction as he quickly works his way down the wall.

"Now who's playing dirty?" The cockiness from before is gone, that grin nowhere to be seen, and for the first time since he first leapt from that building Aizawa feels completely in control.

"I haven't even begun to play yet, Hitoshi." And Aizawa is on the ground a second later, footsteps completely undetectable as he walks in Shinsou's direction. "But I suggest you…run."

There's fear in those violet eyes now, fear and anticipation as Shinsou takes Aizawa in for a moment, eyes scanning him from head to toe, before he's finally listening to what he's told and he takes off running down the nearest ally with Aizawa right behind him.

This feels better than leaping through the air or hanging from a rooftop. It feels better than running on a treadmill or working over a punching bag at the gym until he can't make a fist anymore or feel his legs. Because he can see Shinsou in front of him, can hear the sound of his foot falls and his heavy breathing. Aizawa can smell him in the air and practically taste him on his tongue already.

This is what he's always wanted.

This feels right, chasing Shinsou down with a kind of single minded focus Aizawa has never felt before. All while the anticipation, that undeniable tension, rises and thickens around them, spurring him on…

He's on Shinsou's heels before he knows it, easily within arms reach as they rip and run through alleyways and in between the maze of buildings. Shinsou's light on his feet, quick as a whip as he goes to make a sharp turn, gravel getting kicked up as he slides into it. But his legs are moving too fast to get under him properly, and Aizawa goes for a full tackle that sends them both crashing to the ground before immediately scrambling to get back up again.

There's a struggle, flailing limbs and sounds of protest as Aizawa drops all of his weight onto Shinsou's back and pins his hands in the process. "What happened to all that talk, kid?" He grinds out, barely able to hear the words over the sound of his own thundering pulse. "The way you ran your mouth I expected your legs to move faster."

"Don't get cocky, mother fucker. We both know exactly what my mouth and legs can do."

Flashes of Shinsou on his knees with his mouth wrapped around Aizawa's dick, along with images of those long legs wrapped around his waist or his shoulders as he takes the boy apart, come flying through Aizawa's mind and the unmistakable need it brings nearly has him shaking.

Aizawa is sure he has him. He digs his fingers into the meat of Shinsou's hip and tightens his hold on Shinsou's wrists before even trying to shift down his body. Because until now Aizawa hadn't been paying attention to how his body was reacting to the chase, the thrill of hunting his boy down in these dark alleys as tiny droplets of rain began to fall around them. But now, he realizes how hard he is, how perfectly his cock fits against Shinsou's ass as he settles against the boy's thighs with a self indulgent little grind just to taste how sweet his spoils will be.

Aizawa is so caught up in that singular moment, that electrifying pulse of friction, that he's too late to stop the sudden jerk of Shinsou's body under him. Shinsou yanks his hands free from Aizawa's grip with a painful sounding grunt, and before Aizawa can regain his balance Shinsou bucks him off enough to flip over and punch Aizawa square in the jaw.

"You're not the only one who taught me something, Sensei." He taunts, but there's heat behind it now, unlike before. Shinsou pulls himself from under Aizawa and jumps to his feet, already starting to put distance between them again. The insinuation behind the jab isn't lost on him, and a white hot stab of something dark and possessive burns through Aizawa's core. "I told you to stop holding back. And that's what you get for not listening."

What comes out of his mouth is more snarl than actual words, more beast than man as he watches Shinsou get further and further away from him. The punch had dazed him, the pain radiating across Aizawa's face and somehow feeding the thing prowling around inside him, like Shinsou is only making the hunt that much better, the reward that much more fulfilling, by fighting so hard and running like this.

Aizawa is getting to his feet the moment Shinsou spins on his heels and takes off running again. There isn't a single thought in his head, nothing but that white noise clarity and that buzzing under his skin as he follows suit, feet moving under him as the sky opens up with a rattling crack of thunder and a downpour hits them. The sound of the rain hitting the pavement mutes Shinsou's footsteps, swallows every sound around them until the only thing Aizawa can focus on is the sight of Shinsou's fleeing back in front of him.

He runs faster, pushes harder and harder fueled by the images still flashing through his mind of Shinsou pinned under him, naked, ruined, perfect and screaming as Aizawa takes him. The violent way it rips through his body and shreds pieces of his sanity, feels like gas on an open flame. It burns away everything around him, every noise and distraction until the only thing that exists is Shinsou and Aizawa's need for him.

They're coming up on another sharp corner, identical to the one Aizawa caught him at before, and he prepares to do it again, to tackle Shinsou to the rain soaked ground and finally take what's his.

But Shinsou isn't preparing to take the turn. He's not slowing down in the slightest as he races for it head first and Aizawa doesn't give himself time to think as he follows his little rabbit, stride never breaking, as they both go crashing through the large warehouse window directly in front of them.

Glass shatters around them and Aizawa hears Shinsou's sharp hiss of pain as the razor sharp shards slice into his forearms and his face. Aizawa manages to dodge some of it, a few pieces actually hitting him, but a couple do end up lodged in his arms and slicing open his skin. And Aizawa doesn't make a sound.

The pain is worth the reward.

The two of them go tumbling to the floor, rolling in almost perfect unison as they hit the cold pavement and immediately push themselves back to their feet. There's glass crunching under his feet, pieces skidding across the floor as he goes still and listens for Shinsou's movements when Aizawa can't find him.

"Hitoshi." Aizawa sounds like a feral animal, no bark, all bite as he spins to find where Shinsou has run off to. He excelled at stealth training, completely blew Aizawa's mind with his skill, and now it's being used against him as his boy all but merges with the shadows in the room.

"You sound so scary, Shouta," Shinsou voice sounds like it's coming from all around him, echoing around the room and off the endless stacks of crates and metal beams. Shinsou using his given name has always done things to him, turning Aizawa inside out with how right it sounds coming from his lips.

Tonight it makes him so hard Shinsou's voice feels like those sinful lips wrapped directly around his dick.

"I knew you would be a handful… but I never thought it would be like this."

Aizawa stops dead. The warehouse is eerily quiet when Shinsou's voice isn't echoing through it, the sound of the rain outside a muted noise in the background of nothing, and he's just as silent as he begins to stalk through the maze of containers.

Shinsou is good, but Aizawa is better, more seasoned. It's how he's able to move soundlessly, following the subtle shift of fabric and the barely there breath sounds that move just out of his reach. Shinsou's breathing is becoming strained from the anticipation, from the thrill of being chased, or maybe it's fear that has those once quiet breaths turning into sharp little pants the closer Aizawa gets.

Either way it doesn't matter, because there's nowhere left for Shinsou to run—and Aizawa is closing in.

"You're running out of breath, Hitoshi. And I'm running out of patience." He's so close he can feel it now. Shinsou on his tongue, his dick, wrapped entirely in every one of his senses until even his tears taste sweeter than candy.

They've reached the end of the warehouse, nothing but a brick wall in front of them now, and nowhere else for Shinsou to go. Aizawa wasn't lying, his patience is nonexistent now, far too focused on reaping his reward and basking in the spoils of his hunt. So the instant he gets close enough he's reaching for Shinsou to finish this.

He finds Shinsou crouched behind one of the smaller crates, the sleeve of his suit peeking out and giving Aizawa all the opportunity he needs. His fingers close around the material, satisfaction coursing through his veins as he yanks it back to pull Shinsou into his arms, trapping him finally… except it's not him.

The sharp sting of the blade at his neck comes right as the realization hits, the top half of Shinsou's suit hanging loosely from his fingertips as Shinsou himself holds a knife to Aizawa's throat from behind him.

"Some hunter you are," he whispers, and Aizawa can feel how hard Shinsou's heart is beating in his chest where he's pressed flush against his back. "You feel more like prey to me right now."

The knife presses harder into his neck, and Aizawa barely feels it. There's no real thought behind his actions now, each one fueled entirely by his desire, this need coming to a full, raging inferno before his very eyes. It's what drives the impulse to push forward, to let the knife sink into his flesh until he can feel his skin part and blood begin to drip freely down his chest.

There's a sharp gasp from behind him followed by a muttered curse, and Aizawa is throwing an elbow into Shinsou's ribs. It's followed by another and another until Shinsou is no longer pressed directly against him. He grabs the blade of the knife with one hand, ignoring the sudden flare of pain when he yanks it from Shinsou's grip just as a fist connects with his kidneys. With the ease formed from years of fighting as a pro hero, Aizawa flips the blade into his good hand and turns into the next punch Shinsou throws.

The first connects with his ribs and the second is another shot to his face, but he's too busy lashing out with the knife to care. He cuts a deep, nasty gash into both of Shinsou's forearms with that single swipe of the knife. And Shinsou takes it with a hissed fuck! and tries to dodge the next swipe by side stepping, the tread on his boots keeping him from slipping in the blood, but he ends up getting slammed into the wall anyway when Aizawa kicks his foot out from under him.

Aizawa pounces before Shinsou can get himself together. Shinsou raises his arms to block again, expecting another assault with the knife, and pauses when nothing comes. He untucks his head just as Aizawa reaches for him, knife tucked blade side down in his palm as he hauls Shinsou forward and throws him over his shoulder in a textbook take down. Aizawa slams him hard, knocking the air from Shinsou's lungs as his back hits the concrete. He looks dazed, struggling to catch his breath, and Aizawa takes the opportunity he's been waiting for.

"Game over, Hitoshi." he growls as he flips Shinsou onto his stomach, pinning his arms behind his back. It forces an arch into his back, pushes his ass up for Aizawa to grind against shamelessly. "Gonna take what's mine."

He's beginning to understand the appeal of the spoils of war.

"Fucking… animal." Shinsou spits out as he struggles to free himself from Aizawa's hold. It makes the blood well and spill across his arms, staining his once white muscle shirt a stunning crimson under the low light.

"I warned you."

"Fuck you."

Aizawa planned to do so much more than that.

Shinsou is still fighting under him, refusing to give up his struggle to get free, and the struggle only grows when Aizawa slices through his shirt, dragging the blade down the middle of the ruined material until it falls open to reveal broad shoulders and scarred skin. Shinsou has been burned and stabbed and shot as a hero, the evidence laying plain for Aizawa to see. He's endeavoured to be gentle for so long that now all he wants to do is add to the collection of scars on his body.

"Are you fucking—I'm gonna fuck you up when I get free!"

No he won't.

Shinsou's pants are next. He drags the blade edge straight down the seam between Shinsou's cheeks and then tosses the knife so he can use both hands to rip them clean open. The sound of fabric tearing makes Aizawa groan. He's got the pants mostly open, able to see the dark briefs underneath, and he immediately rips them open too.

Aizawa truly feels like the animal Shinsou claims he is as he shreds the younger hero's clothes. The pants don't come all the way off, trapped around Shinsou's thighs, and the utility belt is still wrapped around his waist. But Aizawa has all he needs. Endless bare skin and an ass begging to be ruined, claimed, marked in every way Aizawa can think of.

He wastes no time in spreading pale, round cheeks and spitting directly on his prize, tight and pretty and taunting Aizawa as he watches his spit drip down to Shinsou's taint before dripping down his balls. He takes a single finger with ease, opening right up and swallowing it whole like it's desperate to be filled—Aizawa immediately adds another.

"Fuck, Shouta...Shouta-let me, let me just..." Shinsou tries, but Aizawa shoves his head down, face pressed to the concrete, and shushes him as he adds a third finger just to listen to the way Shinsou's pained grunts turn into high pitched whines from the burn of the stretch—from how Aizawa is rushing and near frantic to get inside him.

Shinsou jerks under him, the blood from Aizawa's ruined hand leaking down Shinsou's face and onto the floor from the strain of holding him down. He hadn't realized just how much blood was smeared across the two of them. But Aizawa can see it all over Shinsou's back and arms, and dripping down his face from Aizawa's own wounds. It's disgusting how much he likes it, how Shinsou's pained grunts have him pulling his fingers free and fumbling to get his dick out so he can line himself up with his next breath.

There's no pause, no waiting, no hesitation as Aizawa pushes forward, sinking into the very heat of Shinsou's body with a loud groan and a far too forceful shove. He's utterly molten on the inside, tight like a vice and squeezing Aizawa's cock with every thumping beat of his heart. Shinsou makes a noise under him, something choked and strained that makes Aizawa go cross eyed as he grips the band of the utility belt, still wrapped around Shinsou's waist, and uses it to yank Shinsou back as he slams forward to bury himself completely inside.

That thing in his chest that's been clawing at his insides, roaring for the chase and the prize at the end, finally settles. It's no longer a thundering compulsion in the back of his head, but a steadily thrumming need that has Aizawa forcing Shinsou's hips up, scraping his knees against the concrete until they are raw and bloody like the rest of him, and proceeding to fuck into him with a viciousness that not even the worst of villains has seen.

"Oh my...oh my god." It comes out a watery moan, punched right out of Shinsou's throat with a savage thrust that rocks him bodily against the floor. Another gasp follows suit and suddenly Shinsou is fighting the hold on his wrists again, struggling to shake Aizawa off of him so he can no doubt try and make a break for it.

Aizawa grits out another order to be still, to take it and whine for him some more, and there's something primally satisfying about the way Shinsou almost immediately sags against the floor, wrists going limp against his back as he moans into the concrete when Aizawa bottoms out and grinds against him. Like he's giving himself to Aizawa entirely.

"Fuck, fuck, Shouta—oh my… that feels so fucking good."

Now that, that is a block of C-4 on the fire.

Shinsou's moans grow louder, rougher as Aizawa returns to his punishing pace. He's fueled by the sounds of Shinsou's pleasure, the scent of copper in the air from the slowly drying blood covering them both, and the greedy way Shinsou's body simply takes it all.

He releases Shinsou's wrists once he's sure his boy won't go anywhere, and heaves him back against his chest. The sudden angle change pulls a ragged sound from Shinsou's throat that's quickly snuffed out as Aizawa wraps a blood stained hand around his neck to hold him in place.

"Do. Not. Move."

"I won't. I won't, I promise!"

Shinsou's tattered shirt falls to the ground, his destroyed pants still wrapped around his legs and shredded at the knees from Aizawa dragging him across the concrete, and Aizawa takes them both in as he sinks his teeth into the unmarked flesh of Shinsou's shoulder. Shinsou hisses out a pained breath, teeth clenched and head hanging as he forces himself not to pull away when it so clearly hurts like hell. The pain makes his body clamp down around Aizawa's cock, pleasure shooting down his spine and across his body until he's moaning out a blood soaked sound of his own.

"Bastard, that hurts." Shinsou wheezes, but Aizawa can see how hard he is, can feel how hard his body is shaking as he tries not to rock back against the dick buried deep inside him.

"I know." Aizawa practically purrs, tongue rolling over the ugly bite leaking down Shinsou's shoulder. He immediately adds a matching one right beside it.

"FUCK!"

He holds Shinsou in place, dick buried inside him, and litters his neck, shoulders and back in countless bite marks and deep, purpling bruises. Every mark makes Aizawa more possessive, more determined to mark every inch of the body trembling against him. Shinsou makes the most delicious sounds with every new bite, cursing Aizawa with a string of profanities, but never once tries to run. Good boy.

By the time he's satisfied with his perfectly painted canvas—the tree in the forest shredded by his claws to mark his territory—Aizawa is so close to the edge that the heat of Shinsou's body makes him lightheaded. His nails dig into the meat of Shinsou's thigh as he rocks into his body, chasing the end Aizawa already knows is coming.

Shinsou's gone quiet, no longer spewing curses but now releasing strained little breaths and weak moans when Aizawa pulls out and immediately slides back in again. His head is draped back across Aizawa's shoulder and he's got a death grip on Aizawa's arm as he pulls the boy apart, teeth once again sunk into his neck far above where his uniform will hide it. Aizawa doesn't care who sees it, he wants them all to see it.

Something shifts into place in his head, the heat pooling low in his gut and burning Aizawa from the inside out beginning to expand as he puts the last of his energy into chasing the blinding light of his orgasm. He wants to reach the end and drown in that undeniable satisfaction Aizawa knows is waiting for him once he finally marks Shinsou in every way that matters. He's back to that frenzied pace, hips snapping forward while he holds Shinsou in place by his throat, his fingers squeezing bruises into that pale, bite ridden skin.

Shinsou makes a sound, high and broken, right as his ass tenses around Aizawa like he's trying to rip his dick clean from his body. It steals the very air from Aizawa's lungs as he watches Shinsou cum across the blood stained floor. He wants to smear it across his body, lick every stray drop from Shinsou's skin where it's dripping down his stomach and his thighs.

It's that image that finally tips Aizawa over the edge. He pants out strained breaths like he's been sucker punched in the gut as he yanks Shinsou on and off his dick like a glorified fleshlight. It's only a handful of minutes before he's pumping every drop of his release directly into Shinsou's limp body while fireworks explode behind his eyes. Aizawa refuses to pull his teeth from Shinsou's skin until the last of it has faded, until he's grown soft and slipped free from Shinsou's now messy hole.

When he finally sits back on his heels Shinsou comes with him, still limp against him and barely holding on to Aizawa's arm. He's pretty like this, fucked out and ruined with dark smudges on his face that Aizawa realizes are scratches caked over with dried blood. They sit like that for a while, he has no idea how long exactly but it's long enough for Aizawa's legs to begin to go numb under him. He holds Shinsou's trembling body close as the clarity sets in and the haze of adrenaline and aggression begin to fade. It's the exhaustion that hits him first.

Aizawa is suddenly so tired he can barely hold himself up, let alone the two of them. He looks to Shinsou again to see how he's doing and Aizawa sucks in a pained breath when he finally sees the true extent of damage he's done with a clear head. "Hitoshi… shit."

The sound of his voice startles Shinsou like he was moments away from dozing off, and he turns his head to look at Aizawa with tired violet eyes and what he can only assume is meant to be a smile of some sort. "You really are a beast, ya know that?"

His voice sounds like his vocal chords have been put through a blender filled with rocks and Aizawa momentarily worries about his quirk before Shinsou murmurs out a tired sounding, "It's alright, I'm fine. No permanent damage… well, maybe some new scars from your teeth, but that's it I think." That makes Aizawa flinch.

But Shinsou doesn't sound as upset as he should and Aizawa has no idea what to do with that. He pulls Shinsou into a more comfortable position in his arms (which is hard because he's nearly taller than Aizawa now) and does his best to try and keep him warm. His clothes aren't really clothes anymore, laying in tatters on the floor and hanging from his body. Aizawa tries not to flinch again.

"I'm sorry." He finally says after a moment, voice thick with guilt as he stares at the countless bloody bite marks and bruises all across Shinsou's body. "I didn't want this to happen. I knew this would happen…"

"I know," Shinsou hums as he pokes at a very sore spot on Aizawa's cheek with a yawn. His mind supplies that's where Shinsou punched him… twice. "But I wanted it to happen."

The record scratch that happens in his head is deafening.

Aizawa's confusion must read clear as day on his face because Shinsou laughs at him before trying to sit up on his own. "I told you, Shouta, I see you. I mean, it's been months. Did you really think I wouldn't notice?" He lets Aizawa help him into a better sitting position, flinching only a little when he has to put all his weight on his ass. "You don't even realize how happy you look right now, do you?"

Happy? Aizawa feels good, yeah, maybe more than good, but… happy?

"I didn't want you to notice because I didn't want to hurt you, Hitoshi." And yet here they are. "Yes, it felt good… It felt incredible, but that feeling isn't worth doing this to you. Jesus, you look like you just went toe to toe with a villain." And lost.

He can't stop staring at the marks, at the hand shaped bruise around Shinsou's throat or the nasty gashes on his arms. Aizawa fucking cut him for fuck's sake.

"Alright," Shinsou starts, taking a deep breath before he works, painstakingly, to get himself up on two feet despite Aizawa's protests. The full force of just how mangled Shinsou is hits him like a ton of bricks, but Shinsou seems completely oblivious to just how bad it is.

"I'm gonna say this and then we can pick the rest up once we get back home and we shower and you feed me, ok? Ok."

Apparently Aizawa wasn't actually supposed to respond to that. He nods anyway.

"Am I tired? Yes. Am I hurting all over and sore in places I didn't know I could be? Also yes. Did I enjoy every second of it like I've never loved anything before?" Shinsou makes sure Aizawa is looking him directly in his eyes when he says, smile wide and unwavering, "Like a pig in shit."

"Hito-"

"Shh, I'm not done." he interrupts before offering Aizawa a hand to help him off the floor. He's thankful, his knees were killing him. But Aizawa knows he won't get a word in edgewise when Shinsou looks at him like that, so he listens even though it's really fucking difficult with him standing there looking like Aizawa just mauled him.

"I loved being chased by you, being hunted by you like that." Shinsou makes a point to emphasize that one word and Aizawa feels it all the way to his toes.

The Hunter and the hunted.

"I loved how rough it got," he continues, almost breathless. "And how hard my heart was pounding the entire time knowing you were going to catch me... wanting you to catch me. I loved every second of it, and wanted it just as much as you did. So don't apologize for giving me exactly what I wanted or for enjoying it with me."

Aizawa doesn't know where to start or where to even begin processing this. It feels like a massive weight has been lifted from his chest and now he's left struggling to remember what it was like to breathe without it weighing him down. Because he feels incredible, better than he can remember feeling… ever. It felt natural, right, to give in tonight and no matter the reservations he has... Aizawa can't make himself regret how truly at peace he is right now seeing Shinsou covered in his marks and looking at him like Aizawa is the single greatest thing to ever exist.

...Even if he is mostly naked and starting to shiver from the cold.

"It's time to head back." he says instead of any of the thousands of things going through his head right now. "Let's see if we can find you something to cover up with and then we can finish this when we get home." Because he has countless questions and he wants to know everything going through Shinsou's head right now. Aizawa needs to know.

"Yeah, yeah I'm cool with that. I seem to have misplaced my clothes near a paper shredder… like an industrial sized one." Shinsou jokes, and Aizawa can't help but smile despite how awful the joke is. That bit or normalcy soothes some of the unease rolling through him, at least enough to hopefully make it back home and finish this talk.

He pulls his top over his head and hands it to Shinsou before going to look for something to cover him up with so they can make it home without being stopped and slapped with indecent exposure charges. Shinsou shrugs it on with a more than happy sounding thank you while holding his ruined pants in front of his dick so they can search together.

The warehouse is huge now that he's really looking at it. The crates are filled with building materials, buckets of plaster, crates full of ceramic tiles and electrical wiring… but not so much as a loose tarp lying around.

"This is an oddly clean warehouse." Shinsou comments as he digs through a crate packed with what looks like hardware tools.

"It probably belongs to one of the gangs that run out of the port. They always keep places like this as cover for their illegal smuggling. Makes all their shipments and paperwork look legit when the cops come snooping around." Aizawa has seen so many of these it's almost impossible to miss. They always pack it full of useless goods and monitor it in case they get raided… "Fuck."

"What?" Shinsou asks, craning his neck to watch Aizawa make a beeline for the stairs on the far wall. There's a door at the top that Aizawa is betting is the control room.

"If this is a cut out for a smuggling operation they will have cameras monitoring the place. We'll need to wipe the CCTV before we leave." And find a way to cover up the blood and cum on the floor just to be on the safe side.

"If they're watching the place wouldn't it have an alarm to let them know when shit goes down? I mean, we've been here for a while and made a pretty flashy entrance," he gives a pointed look towards the busted window they jumped through. "They probably already know we're here."

"No. These places don't come wired. The point is to monitor them on and off, not draw attention. Plus there's too much crime in this area. So if a place gets hit too often or not enough it draws attention and the police can look into the security company. I'd bet money the CCTV here is older than me. Criminals are always cheap."

"Aw. You would deprive these cheap bastards of such an exciting show? I don't know if you noticed but I was very convincing." Oh Aizawa noticed.

He stops at the top of the stairs, arms folded across his chest, and stares down at Shinsou with the blandest expression he can manage. "I'd rather not turn on the news in the next few days and see footage of me raw dogging you in the middle of a warehouse with criminal ties, Hitoshi."

"... Well when you put it like that. We should definitely make them pay for it. It was a really good show after all."

Aizawa rolls his eyes so hard he gives himself a headache. Shinsou was a menace.

The door to the security office isn't even locked. Aizawa walks right in and, exactly as expected, the CCTV is ancient. Like, it's almost concerning how old it is.

He unplugs the monitor and destroys all the tapes within view, including the one with tonight's recording, even though, for a moment, Aizawa is more than tempted to keep it for himself. He hears Shinsou come up the stairs just as he's tossing all the tapes in a metal trash can and setting a match to them.

"All done here." he sighs, exhaustion hitting him harder than ever.

"Yeah, same. I found one of those fire suppression blankets in the little safety thing with the axe. So now we can safely walk back without my dick freezing off, because it is literally pouring rain outside right now." Fucking wonderful.

"It would rain the night the gym closes."

"Oh, the gym isn't closed."

"Wha- you literally said…" Aizawa's eyes narrow and Shinsou at least has the decency to look at least a little ashamed.

"I may have told a very small lie, a fib really, honestly it's so far from a lie it could really be the truth… if you squint."

"Hitoshi." Aizawa is this close to throwing him through another window. Minus the blanket wrapped around his waist. Instead, because he's old and tired and very much wants to go home and fall asleep with this menace in his arms, he pinches the bridge of his nose and counts to ten before saying anything else.

"Next time, let's just try to keep the chase confined to a short one mile radius and avoid bad weather." At this rate it would take them all night just to get back to the roof Shinsou is supposed to be patrolling tonight.

"Next time?" Shinsou asks with a grin, not at all worried about being caught in his 'not' lie to get Aizawa on the roof in the first place. Conniving little shit. But it's then that Aizawa realizes what he said, and why Shinsou is grinning at him like that. Next time… he can't deny that he really likes the sound of that.

"Yeah, next time." He offers with a small grin of his own.

"Sweet. I'm gonna hold you to that."

"I'm sure you will."

"Oh...uh," Shinsou stops him just before they can walk out the door and down the stairs. "Try not to be too mad at the guys you worked with tonight… I may have put them up to, you know, being really annoying."

"Hitoshi!"