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If it weren’t for the frankly embarrassing amount of times that Hitoshi had asked whether Aizawa actually liked him in the three years of training him, Hitoshi would have been sure that Aizawa was currently trying to murder him.
Sure, maybe the kick to the balls had been a dirty play, but Aizawa had literally taught him that no tactics were too dirty when you were fighting for your life, so Hitoshi didn’t really see the problem. He did, however, see the (proud?) fire burning in Aizawa’s eyes as he got knocked to his back by the vicious hit.
Oh, Hitoshi idly realized, catching his breath as his teacher smoothly tucked into a back roll and stood up, glaring at him from across the mat. I’m about to straight-up die.
Hitoshi barely had the chance to blink before Aizawa came at him in a whirl of kicks, jabs, and slashing hits. This is unfair, Hitoshi internally complained, blocking a kick coming to hit his ribs. He’s totally upping his game. He managed to hold out for another thirty seconds, weaving through rapid-fire attacks, but he was already doomed as soon as he was forced onto the defensive. An unexpectedly harsh jab to his hip had Hitoshi falling hard to the ground, and out of the ring. Fuck.
Aizawa huffed and walked over to Hitoshi, who was now pouting on the ground. Hitoshi locked eyes with him and, in a mocking monotone, said, “I’m dead. You killed me.” He flopped down, now fully laying on the gym floor. Aizawa clicked his tongue, seemingly unimpressed with Hitoshi’s theatrical display.
“Get off the ground, it’s disgusting. You know how much sweat is on there?” Aizawa reached out a hand for him to grab, but Hitoshi remained on the ground, sighing loudly and dramatically draping his arm over his eyes. Aizawa’s arm dropped, and his eye twitched. “Shinsou. Get up.”
Hitoshi uncovered his eyes, giving Aizawa hope for an end to the dramatics. Just as Aizawa began to lift his arm again to offer a helping hand, Hitoshi locked eyes with Aizawa as he let out an uncomfortably loud moan, fully cementing his role as a dying (masochistic, or maybe sexually frustrated) child. Suck on that, old man. Hitoshi wins again. But to Hitoshi’s surprise, Aizawa did not groan in frustration but instead gained a terrifying shit-eating grin and an amused twinkle in his eye.
Hitoshi faltered, wondering why his expertise at pissing people off had failed him in such a crucial moment. Aizawa maintained his evil Totoro smile as he deadpanned, “Oh, so that’s what I hear coming out of Midoriya’s room every now and then.” Aizawa let out a sadistic chuckle as he watched Hitoshi’s face contort in abject horror. He completely froze up, slowly averting his gaze as Aizawa continued to cackle.
Aizawa sneered at the pitiful display on the floor. “I live in the dorms too, you know. I hear everything. ” Hitoshi actually let out a scream at that comment, rolling on the floor with his eyes covered.
Suddenly, Hitoshi scurried over to Aizawa’s feet, vaguely reminding the man of a feral alley cat. The sight reignited his internal debate on the merit of adopting yet another cat (Hizashi may have protested after the third cat, but maybe the fourth would even things out). Hitoshi grinned as he recognized the “I’m thinking about cats” look on his mentor’s face, and sweep-kicked Aizawa on the back of his knees, bringing him down to the floor as Hitoshi came back to a standing position. He pointed and laughed at the man that he knocked to his ass, who was really starting to think about abandoning his position as a hero solely to murder this gremlin troll child.
Aizawa grumbled as he stood, sounding more like a grandpa than ever with his cracking joints and hand on his back. Hitoshi stopped cackling as he remembered what was said to him in the first place and flushed in embarrassment. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Can you actually hear me and Izuku?”
Aizawa barked out a laugh and smirked at his mentee, no remorse in his eyes. Hitoshi tensed up in unease. Aizawa’s Totoro smile has never looked so terrifying. The man took no survivors, evident by the way he stared Hitoshi dead in the eye and said, “You two are real fuckin’ loud- what does he call you again? Oh right, kitten .”
Hitoshi screeched and hid his face in his arms to avoid the smug face of his teacher. Well, I can never look anyone in the eye ever again. Goodbye, everyone, I’ll see you in therapy. Apparently he had said that out loud, seeing as Aizawa had started cackling, which really just showed how much joy he found in Hitoshi’s pain which was maybe just slightly too sadistic of him. “Jesus fucking hell I’m going to go jump off a cliff. Is this payback? Is this a payback for the dick shot?” Hitoshi was pacing now, hands furiously combing through his hair. He looked like Todoroki when the guy was theorizing on students’ secret parentage. Yikes.
Aizawa waved him off, nonplussed. “The dick shot was good, kid.” Hitoshi was about to sigh in relief, but the man cut him off. “Still pissed about it though. Stop attacking my means of production.”
Hitoshi blinked, then somehow had even more questions for the guy. “Means of production?!” Aizawa nodded, unbothered. Hitoshi pinched his brow. “I thought you were gay, man, you told me this in my second year.”
Aizawa tilted his head in thought. “Well, yeah but being gay doesn’t mean I don’t put the little guy to use, brat. I do have Hizashi. You obviously know how it goes with Midoriya and all.”
Hitoshi was in even more pain. He fucking enjoys this, doesn’t he?
“Please- and I say this with what little respect I still have for you- please never talk about you having sex. You’re like my weird older brother,” Hitoshi continued, flushed but hurried, “I don’t want to think about your fucking dick.”
Aizawa scoffed. “Didn’t have a problem with it when you kicked me right in my means-”
Hitoshi screamed in pain, squatting down into a ball and covering his ears with his hands. This is surely what it felt like when Izuku broke and rebroke his bones all the time in their first year. Aizawa let loose a truly terrifying Disney villain cackle as Hitoshi muttered donotthinkaboutAizawa’sdickdonotthinkaboutAizawa’sdickdonotthinkaboutAizawa’sdick over and over again. Aizawa offered no platitudes for the boy’s meltdown.
Suffice it to say, the mantra did not work.
OMAKE:
Izuku startled at the sound of harsh knocking on his dorm room’s door. Oh, Hitoshi must be done with training for the day!
He cheerfully skipped over to his door and opened it, only to find a scarily amused Aizawa holding his boyfriend by the scruff of his neck (almost like a cat, and it really was funny considering that both Aizawa and Hitoshi loved cats! Maybe that’s what they started bonding over? Like, they seem really close for a simple mentor-mentee relat-). Aizawa coughed, and Izuku came back to his senses.
“Here’s your boy.” Aizawa dropped Shinsou in the doorway and walked away. Izuku frowned at the retreating figure but focused his gaze on the boy sitting on the ground. Did Aizawa work him so hard that he couldn’t walk? That was kind of concerning, maybe they should have an off-day tomorr-
“He knows about our sex life,” Hitoshi whispered, mortification clear on his distressed face. “He called me kitten and talked about his dick .”
Izuku just about died on the spot.