Archive of Our Own ^beta

Natsuo arrived at the Todoroki estate - his childhood home. The sky was dark, no stars out. The neighborhood was silent.

He had promised himself - and Endeavor - that he was never going to come back to this place, that he would never forgive the man... but here he was. 

A week ago, Fuyumi and his mother had insisted that their monthly family dinners would continue to be held in this shitty place. And more than that, the dinners would continue to include their father. ‘The family is broken. It needs to heal,’ his sister's voice echoed in his mind. ‘We are all trying to heal here, Natsuo. You are the only one who wants it to stay broken.’ Fuyumi had had the audacity to say that to him, and their mother stood firm beside her. They were more ready to leave him out than that soulless piece of shit. Perhaps Touya had been right about the women in this family.

But he was gone now. It was too late to admit that to him. 

Natsuo opened the front door and made his way to his old bedroom. Silently.

‘Just watch me,’ those had been his father's words once everything had gone public. And Natsuo did watch him, he watched his father put on airs for months after Dabi exposed himself in order to maintain that dignity – that pride, that status. 

He seethed as he stared at his childhood futon folded neatly in the closet next to Touya's... He looked at the floor, remembering all those years his older brother pleaded and complained about their father in the middle of the night, sharing the secrets of their family – their purpose.

Their failed purpose.

He paused for a moment, listening to the rhythmic thumping of crutches against wood. It was his old man, limping around on those legs that he had once claimed he'd never be able to use again. But a month ago, Endeavor had switched from his wheelchair to the elbow crutches, and nobody has seemed to bat an eye.

But that switch – that made it clear to Natsuo: his father hadn't changed at all. Endeavor hadn't given up anything for the family.

Had his injuries even been that bad in the first place? Has he sacrificed anything? Or was it just for pity? Was it just a show for Touya?

There was no doubt in Natsuo's mind that his father was already recouping so he could go right back to being a hero again. He knew that eventually, the man would stop playing victim and return to his normal, selfish obsessions.

A man like that doesn't change.

Natsuo heard those steps and stumps retreat down the hall, the door sliding shut as his father retired to his room for the night.

With determined grit and quiet feet, Natsuo made his way downstairs, the spy camera in hand. He had purchased the device for just this reason.

The training hall was cold, untouched by warmth from the rest of the house. It was a complete contrast to the cozy, dim-lit hallways. The room was mostly as he remembered it: wooden, sterile, and smelling faintly of sweat. The walls were lined with training equipment that had seen better days, remnants of his father's obsessive push to surpass All Might.

But there were some new additions to the room. There was a low, padded table, most likely for use in physical rehab. Additionally, there was a beanbag chair, a mat, a few cushions, and some new small pieces of equipment that he hadn't seen before. It all looked strangely trendy in this old traditional space.

With nervous hands, he carefully placed the camera in a discreet spot on the shelf, angling it to cover as much of the room as possible without being seen.

His mind raced. 

He would catch his father in the act. He would get footage of his father training his quirk and his body – most likely to exertion. Then, he would show Fuyumi, Shoto, and Mom the madness in their old man's eyes - the crazed way he knew his Endeavor must be training once again. And then, they would all know that his father wasn't worth forgiving.

Natsuo would show them.

He set the device to record on motion detection, linked the Bluetooth to his phone, connected his account with the app, and retreated from the house with a mix of fear and excitement.

Days passed, and the footage remained blank. The app would send snapshots of the room to his account twice daily, but the motion detection was not going off. No one was entering the training hall.

He checked the footage constantly, anticipation growing with each uneventful review.

It was a quiet evening when the notification finally popped up on his phone. His heart raced as he clicked to see what had triggered the camera. The room was brightly lit, the shadows playing on the dusty equipment. But there, in the center of the training hall, was his father, limping to the table. Natsuo was already starting up his computer, logging into the app so that he could watch the footage in higher definition.

His eyes narrowed when a second figure entered the frame. Blonde hair and casual clothes. It was the former hero, Hawks. The man looked surprisingly at ease in their home, a polar opposite to the tension Natsuo usually felt when he was in the same space.

His father didn't flinch as the guest approached, blue eyes never leaving the floor.

"How've your legs been the last few days?" Hawks quipped, his voice teasing but gentle.

"Slow," Endeavor replied gruffly, his face tight with pain.

Natsuo felt a twinge of guilt but tossed it aside. His father was a monster. And he knew he'd have proof of that soon enough.

The smaller man helped his father onto the table - Endeavor's loose gym shorts and T-shirt making him almost look like a normal person. The blonde assisted him with ease, lifting him most of the way while being especially careful with Endeavor's stub of a right arm. The former winged hero was clearly a kind man. But... there was something about the way Hawks' eyes lingered on his father, something in the tone of his voice that didn't quite sit right with Natsuo.

He knew that the two had partnered together many times as heroes, but to see his father acting like this with someone, casual, friendly… It felt alien. He didn't want to think about the fact that his father had friends. Or a life. Or about the fact that this was his father's first time living, too. 

"I'm sorry I was gone so long," Hawks said, his voice a gentle rumble as he climbed up and bent over the redhead's legs. "It took way longer than expected."

"It's fine," Endeavor murmured.

Hawks began to assist his father with his stretches, pressing one of the man's weakened legs back to his stomach and holding it there.

"Now correct me if I'm wrong," Hawks began, "your physical therapist said you needed to take the rehabilitation a bit slower, didn't he?"

This was it. This was it! Natsuo was right! The light of the computer screen gleamed in his eyes, his face inches from it.

"I paid a visit to Recovery Girl the other day, so I should be fine," Endeavor responded. "Besides, the reason I stopped seeing that guy was because he didn't understand the limitations of my body."

Hawks had a smug grin on his face.

"Shut up, Keigo," his father grumbled.

"What?" The blonde asked innocently. "I didn't say anything."

His father sighed a huff of annoyance.

Hawks' grip was gentle as he switched to Endeavor's other leg, fingers trailing slow against the redhead's skin. "There's no need for the rush, Enji. You're retired now," his thumb rubbed circles against the gym shorts, "Finally time to enjoy your days off."

His father's somber voice responded simply, "The sooner I can walk without assistance, the sooner my family can get on without me." Natsuo felt his face fall. "I don't want them to be held back by me anymore. Rei had only signed the divorce papers once I was out of the chair... Once pity is out of the way, they can finally be free."

Natsuo stared at the screen. He felt sick.

Hawks took a slow sigh and rubbed the old man's only arm. "… I think you underestimate them," he supplied. "And besides, Number One" he added in a snarky tone, "I won't be going anywhere; you ain't getting rid of me that easily."

The tiniest of smiles. Right there on the former flame hero's face— before it was quickly covered with a grimace and a frown, "Uhg."

"Sorry," the blonde apologized as he pulled back a bit from his deep press on the larger man's thigh.

"It's fine," the redhead mumbled.

A long beat.

The camera caught the moment Hawks looked up and met Endeavor’s eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. "I missed you."

The room grew quiet, the only sound the gentle whir of the laptop's fan and the light breaths of the two men. For a moment, it seemed like Endeavor would say nothing. 

His eyes dodged to the floor. "Mu," he grunted - his usual response. But that face wasn't his usual pout.

The large hero's body stiffened; Natsuo watched as the former Number Two slid his hand into the loose leg hole of his father's shorts.

"You missed me while I was gone, didn't you?" Hawks purred, a deep, cocky sound.

Endeavor’s breath hitched, wide eyes locking onto the ceiling as the blonde's hand snaked inside his shorts.

"Yeah," the smaller man answered himself in a whisper. His smile grew, "You did."

The redhead's chest jumped as his breath grew ragged.

*

Keigo's fingers pressed into the soft flesh. Only four days without it and he felt starved. His digits glided down and traced over that junction between the plump thigh and asscheek, the meat hot and marshmallow soft. "Fuck," he groaned, voice thick and choked. "Enji."

The number one hero stared at the ceiling, quietly hyperventilating.

Hawks tugged the shorts down with one hand, letting the fabric catch on the man's thighs. Enji's little cock was rock-hard and wet.

"Enji," Keigo breathed, spreading the larger man's thick, ragdoll thighs, pressing them up to his stomach, and tilting that quivering soft pucker up to the cool air of the room. "You look so hungry, sweetheart," Keigo cooed at the pretty pink hole.

The flame hero was completely overwhelmed, his body tight and trembling. He didn't speak - his mouth open slightly, eyes wide and unblinking.

With a gentle squeeze of his thighs, Hawks leaned in and placed a soft kiss right beside his hole.

A gasp. A quiver.

Hawks pressed his lips to the plump cheek, then the other, before pushing his mouth against the tight ring of muscle. The room filled with the sound of wet, open-mouthed kisses as he licked and sucked at the puckered flesh. Enji's legs quivered, his body trying to escape the overwhelming sensations, but Keigo held him firmly in place.

With a groan, the blonde hero pulled back and unzipped his own pants, pulling out his cock with an urgency that was almost frantic. His eyes never left Enji's swollen little entrance as he grabbed the base of his own hardness and squeezed it to temporary silence. He reached into his back pocket and yanked out a golden packet, holding it in his teeth while he tore it open and pinched out the contents between two fingers.

At the sound of squelching lube, that pretty pucker winked at him. Keigo's cock bobbed in the air with need.

Enji's eyes were dancing into the space above him. The man vibrated, back pressed into the soft cushion of the table, practically folded in half, cheeks red, ears red, neck red, chest red, eyes watering, T-shirt loose against his chest.

"Look at me," Keigo panted.

A pout.

Then, firmer, "Enji."

Those wide blue eyes locked on his.

Keigo's hand slid over the head of his cock, stroking himself as he watched the man he had idolized for years writhe beneath him. "Baby," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

*

Natsuo couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen. Confusion. Shock... Something else.

He couldn't think.

*

With a slow, deliberate movement, Keigo pushed himself inside. Enji's body tensed, a silent sound on his lips, his eyes spilling. The slide in was so easy, so soft, so perfect, the wet heat wrapping around him like a tailored glove.

"Fuck... baby," the blonde moaned.

Enji's teeth were chattering.

Keigo gripped the larger man's waist and pulled him closer with practiced ease. Those burning insides fluttered around him, squeezing for sustenance.

"That's my good boy," he groaned.

"Mnnuaaah," Enji mewled – that first sound of the night. Fucking heaven.

Keigo's eyes rolled back in his head as he pushed deeper into his hero. "Yeah?" he whispered, his voice cracking with need. He watched Enji's thighs quiver, and he felt the man's little cock throb against his abs. The sight was almost too much, and he had to fight the urge to just slam home and fuck him senseless.

Instead, he rolled into him, slow and soft and deep: the way Enji deserved – the way that made the larger man fall apart.

"Ah..." Enji whimpered, "ah... ah..." his stoic voice high and tight.

The sound made Keigo's balls jump, and he had to bite down on his tongue to keep from coming too early. He pulled back, watching Enji's hole stretch and grip around his shaft, then pushed back in.

The redhead's dizzy eyes were still locked on his, the pupils blown wide, the irises a deep blue ocean. "Kei... go," he breathed, the word barely a whisper.

"Yeah... you missed daddy, didn't you?" Hawks purred.

Enji whined, watery eyes glistening as he pawed at the blonde's back with his only hand.

Keigo's presses grew firmer, jostling the man below him with each thrust. He tightened his grip, "Say it."

"... Daa… ddyyy...." the redhead keened, the sweet, sad, needy sound so perfect on his lips, "... missed... you..." His voice was soft, lost.

Enji finally let go.

"Yeah," Hawks moaned, that beautiful, scarred face staring up at him. His hips rolled in a steady rhythm. "It's me, baby. I've got you."

Little, whimpered noises and "huhn"s we're escaping Enji's lungs with every breath. With every push. 

Keigo couldn't help the smile that pulled at his mouth as he picked up his pace, watching his redhead squirm and cry beneath him.

"Good boy," he praised, his voice gruff. "So pretty."

The words seemed to push a button in the flame hero. Enji's body arched, a sob tearing from his throat as his damaged legs attempted to wrap around Keigo's waist, his toes curling into the blonde's shirt.

"Fuck," Keigo murmured, "baby." His brows were pressed tight. To say he was obsessed was an understatement – a sight he had seen so many times before, but couldn't get enough.

He was addicted.

He was losing his mind.

He was high.

He'd rather die than lose this.

Ever.

His hero. Turned coworker. Turned friend. Turned so much goddamn more. Vulnerable, but only for him. Broken, but so wonderfully special. Proud and heroic and smart and desperate and brave.

And so goddamn pretty on his cock.

Enji's tongue was out, begging for Keigo's mouth. Saliva and tears made his sweet face glisten, eyes unfocused and scared of the overwhelming pleasure.

"Da....ddyyy..." Enji babbled.

Enji's ass was lifted off the table as Keigo leaned up, capturing that fat bottom lip between his teeth, biting gently before devouring the pleading mouth.

They kissed desperately, the blonde's hand sliding into Enji's hair, cradling the man's head like a treasure. Enji's mouth was open and eager, his tired tongue tangling with Keigo's as if he were starving for it.

The camera, unseen and unheard, captured every whine and whimper, every thrust and kiss. The sound of slapping wet skin filled the room, mixing with the occasional clank of metal from the crutches against the table.

Keigo's strokes grew more intense, his cock sliding in and out of Enji with a rhythm that was as mesmerizing as it was obscene. The redhead's body was pornographic, his muscles twisting with every movement.

He pulled back to drag his eyes over Enji's face – over the way his eyes fluttered shut and opened, the way his mouth formed babbled cries of pleasure, the way his scarred cheeks flushed. Keigo had missed this so much. It had only been four days but he thought he was going to fucking implode. His gaze strayed down to that stub of an arm, the way it moved around like its ghost was holding onto him for dear life.

Keigo felt like he was going to pass out.

He slammed his hips, and Enji's body jolted, his back arching. His little cock was smushed between them, leaking precum. Based on the erratic breathing and the squeaking gasps that came from every inhale, he knew the redhead was close. "Enji..."

"D-d-d... da..." The friction grew.

Keigo watched Enji's orgasm possess him – the arm and a half hugging him tight, that pretty body going taut, that little cock pulsing against Keigo's stomach, leaving a sticky mess as he simpered against the skin of Keigo's neck.

The blond's hips stuttered, his breaths coming in short, desperate bursts.

Keigo's body trembled as it reached its limit, his peak crashing through him like a stroke. His cock throbbed, pumping cum deep inside the other man's quivering body.

For the hundredth time, he felt himself die and be reborn.

They remained like that, caught in the aftermath, breathing ragged and wild.

Until it slowed.

He combed his fingers through Enji's short, damp hair, thumb playing against the scar on his temple. He could feel the exhaustion seeping from Enji's body. "Baby," he cooed.

*

Slowly, Hawks pulled out, his cock glistening with proof of what they’d just done. Endeavor’s legs fell back to the table, his body lax and sweaty. The blonde leaned over to kiss him gently, whispering something into his ear that was lost to the camera's microphone.

In the flash of something inhuman, Hawks' eyes widened, neck jolting towards the camera.

Natsuo's heart stopped, and his palm slammed his computer screen closed, the plastic splintering under his hand.

He stared at the broken device.

***

Two days had passed, and Natsuo hadn't been able to sleep. Hadn't been able to think. Hadn't been able to eat. His house was a mess. His phone was full of messages; he didn't want to look. He had no idea what to expect. His apartment was near freezing, but it still felt too hot—

He jumped at the sound of his doorbell, "Fuck!"

Natsuo took a breath, trying to calm his racing heart. It couldn't be him, right? He wouldn't just show up at his door like that. And you'd have to be some sort of hacker or something to trace the camera back to his IP address, or however the fuck that worked.

Wiping his sweaty palms on his pants, he made his way to the door, peeking through the peephole.

It was just Shoto.

He took another breath, relieved but still on edge, and unlocked the door.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice harsher than intended.

Shoto looked at him, eyes searching. "You've been avoiding my calls," he said simply, stepping into the apartment.

Natsuo stepped aside, letting his brother into the tiny space. "I've had a lot to think about," he mumbled.

Shoto nodded, his eyes flicking around the room as if searching for something. "Yeah," he said. "I figured."

The silence stretched out between them, thick and uncomfortable.

"Your girlfriend called me because she was worried," Shoto added.

Oh. Shit. Yeah.

His little brother continued, "So, are you coming to dinner tomorrow?"

Natsuo froze, his mind racing. 

If he didn't show up, would they know? "Yeah... I'll be there," he heard himself say.

His stomach felt like a boulder, but what choice did he have?

Shoto nodded, his gaze lingering on Natsuo's tense frame. "Good," he said, his voice softer. "We've all missed you."

With a forced smile, Natsuo nodded, "I've missed you too, Shoto."

As his brother turned, he reminded, "Call your girlfriend. She was really worried."

"Yeah…"

When the half-half kid turned the knob to leave, Natsuo felt something like relief wash over him. He needed sleep.

The door closed, and Natsuo listened to the footsteps fade down the hall. He slumped against the wall, his eyes heavy.

A knock on the door.

"Jesus!" His nerves were shot.

He went back to the door, opening it with a bit of annoyance this time, "What else, Sho--"

It wasn't Shoto's concerned eyes staring back at him.

"Yo~" the voice was cheerful.

The smile was cheerful.

The eyes were not.

They were the same golden amber that had stared into his soul from the screen.

Natsuo's mind was ice, his hand frozen on the door handle.

Hawks' smile didn't falter. "Natsuo, right?" he asked, his voice a gentle rumble.

Natsuo nodded dumbly, his throat thick.

The blonde stepped into the apartment, closing the door behind him. "Is it okay if I come in?"

He nodded again, still unable to find his voice.

Hawks took that as his cue to move closer, his eyes never leaving Natsuo's. The man wasn't wearing his hero suit, but the authority of it remained etched in every line of his body. "Your brother told me you weren't feeling well," he said, his voice playful, yet unreadable. "Thought I'd check in."

Natsuo swallowed hard, squeezing the phone in his pocket. "I-I'm fine," he managed. "Just... a lot going on."

"Well, that's why I'm here," Hawks said, moving deeper into the apartment. Natsuo could feel the weight of his gaze, the way it lingered on the couch, the TV, the laptop...

Hawks reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the crumpled pieces of the camera. Natsuo's stomach dropped.

"You know, I had a bit of an accident," the blonde hero said casually, throwing the wiry pieces of glass and plastic onto the table. "Found this in your father's training hall."

The silence was deafening. Natsuo felt his face flushing, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Found what you were looking for?" The blonde's voice was strange.

Natsuo's mouth opened and closed; no sound came out.

Those eyes didn't look like they belonged to a hero.

"You know… I don't like you much." The words hung in the air. The predator's gaze burned holes into his ice. "… But you're Enji's kid, so I played nice."

Natsuo's throat was dry. Hawks came forward, an inch from his face. 

"However, I'm not going to hold back on the second oldest son, too."

He leaned in to Natsuo's ear.

"Don't miss dinner," the villain warned.