All Might gives Recovery Girl a run for her money.

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Aizawa wasn't really sure when it started.

Then again, he didn't really know when any of this started, or how. So much had happened at once; meeting Izuku Midoriya, the death of Izuku's mother, the adoption, moving in with Number One Pro Hero All Might, and a myriad of other things Aizawa couldn't be bothered to remember. It was all written down somewhere, filed away in a cabinet in some office so Aizawa didn't have to remember the details.

He didn't really want to. It was easier, emotionally, to push that junk to the back of his mind. Instead, he focused on things like when the fuck Yagi turned into such a fantastic father figure to little Izuku, or when it started melting Aizawa's crumpled little heart.

After the death of his mother and Izuku's brave smile in the face of it, after his unwavering support of All Might despite their failure to save Mrs. Midoriya, the top hero had absolutely fallen for the kid. All Might declared that moment that he would take the child under his care and raise him as his own, a stupidly large grin on his stupid face and tears pricking at his eyes.

That, of course, came with some complications. The top hero had a job to do; he could not rear a child on his own when he worked full-time saving lives. Unless he found some help, he would not be qualified to adopt Izuku. So All Might swung his head around and, eyes locking onto the first person he saw, boldly declared, "You'll help me, won't you?!"

And like the soft, unlucky bastard that he was, the hero Eraser Head took one glance at the hopeful look on that Midoriya kid's face and said, "Whatever. Fine."

It took plenty of paperwork, money, and unbreakable dignity before both Izuku Midoriya and Shota Aizawa were ready to move into Toshinori Yagi's apartment - which, admittedly, he had only moved to a week before them to accomodate for the extra bodies. It was cozy, if too large for Aizawa's tastes, and Izuku was elated when his new caretakers bought him all sorts of hero decor and collectibles for his bedroom.

Or rather, All Might took him shopping, and Aizawa quietly put together his furniture. He knew he wouldn't be able to stand that man for so long in his muscle form.

Izuku was always downtrodden at the loss of his mother, but next to nothing could dampen the spirits of a child living with two heroes. Still, during that first year in the new apartment, Aizawa would often find himself wandering to the balcony on sleepless nights, witnessing the kid staring out at the lights of the city. Sometimes he simply gazed, the lights reflecting in his eyes. Sometimes he cried. Always, he would tell Aizawa he missed his mother.

Admittedly, at first, Aizawa had no clue what to do. He was experienced with teenagers, not five-year-olds. Izuku was patient - sad, but patient - as Aizawa fumbled through night after night of attempted explanations and flowery words, none of them right, none of them helping. It went on and on until one night, his chest aching and eyes drooping with tiredness, all Aizawa could bring himself to do was reach down and ruffle Izuku's hair, uttering only a few words.

"I know," he had sighed as the kid drooped against him. "Shit sucks."

A soft giggle. "You're not supposed to say that word."

Aizawa cocked an eyebrow. "Says who?"

"Says All Might!"

"Oh no."

The words had been laced with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, which was next to zero, but Izuku laughed anyway. That was probably the night Aizawa would label as his first real connection with him - the night they made a turnaround in their relationship. Izuku seemed far more comfortable with him afterward.

.

Of course, Yagi had always been better with him. He was better at making Izuku smile, laugh, and tire out, and Izuku wanted to cling on him at all times. Even after finding out Yagi and All Might looked different, he had taken it far better than Aizawa, who had refused to speak to either form for a week. His heart bursting with the love and acceptance only a child could give so freely, Izuku declared that Small Might was even better than All Might, because he was allowed to be sad sometimes.

Izuku was a lot wiser than any adult he knew, Aizawa noted.

First Aizawa was relieved. He had no idea how to care for a child beyond very basic ideas. Annoying as All Might was, Yagi was far more bearable and knew his stuff. Aizawa left bathing and bedtime up to Yagi as much as he could, and when it came to real interaction he was totally clueless. All he could really do was make sure Izuku didn't starve or get himself killed. Yagi could be the fun parent if he wanted; Aizawa couldn't handle the pressure of it.

Then, as Izuku came out of his shell - and Aizawa started to realize maybe kids weren't so bad - he grew bitter, not that he would ever admit it. Izuku smiled for him, sometimes laughed, but he could never draw out the gut-busting shrieks of joy that Yagi could. He could never get him bouncing with excitement like Yagi could. Sure, it was only from lack of experience, but Yagi was so busy stealing Izuku's attention that Aizawa hadn't even gotten a chance to learn.

Of course a child would prefer All Might. Aizawa had nothing on the Number One Pro Hero, and especially not on Toshinori Yagi.

Then, somewhere along the line, it melted into warmth that Aizawa was even more reluctant to admit to. Yagi could make Izuku grin just by smiling at him or giving a thumbs up, and the way Izuku fawned over him even when he wasn't around was sweet. Yagi would give Izuku as many shoulder rides as he wanted no matter how exhausted he was, and cooked them all a meal every night, even if Aizawa preferred to eat quietly alone.

And if the sight of Yagi cooking while humming to himself brought a smile to Aizawa's lips, that was nobody's business but his own. It was just a sweet thought, a buff ego like All Might cooking for a child, but if Yagi heard anyone admit that his head would get so big he'd topple over.

Aizawa also got the opportunity to bond with Izuku during walks to and from school, as their schedule was the same, and he got the luxury of holding hands the whole time some days. It was more than enough for him.

Yagi also took care of the sad stuff. Any time Izuku was upset, Yagi was at his side immediately to make him laugh. If he was picked on, he got a pep talk. If he messed up, he got encouragement. With the exception of Izuku and Aizawa's late-night balcony talks, which were their special secret, Yagi took care of the emotional side of things. That was alright with Aizawa - Yagi was simply overall much better with heart-to-heart stuff.

Yagi was good at everything, really. Somehow, that was less obnoxious than All Might being good at everything.

.

He also took care of injuries.

Sure, Aizawa could disinfect some scrapes, and after Yagi taught him how to use sweets to judge the intensity of the wound, he was well-equipped to handle accidents. Izuku was a bit of a crybaby, but some sympathetic words and a few head pats could get him through the pain, and band-aids did wonders to make him far happier.

Still, he was no match for Yagi in this area, either.

"Toshi!"

The whine had Aizawa on high alert for half a second, but he'd learned Izuku's different cries rather quickly. Besides, he was calling for Yagi. Still, he kept an eye out when Izuku came trotting into the living room with one hand held in the other, eyes watering with his bottom lip jutting out.

Yagi peeked over the back of the couch. "Hey, kiddo," he greeted warmly, patting the cushion next to him. "Something wrong?"

"Papercut," Izuku replied, voice quivering.

Aizawa watched over the rim of his coffee mug as Yagi held his hand out expectantly. Izuku placed his injured hand inside, and Aizawa could see the offending cut: a thin, red line along the thumb muscles of his palm. Yagi rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly with his free hand, cocking his head.

"A bandaid won't work on that one, kid," he admitted apologetically.

"It . . . " Izuku hesitated, staring into Yagi's eyes, and despite his lack of involvement Aizawa felt endlessly guilty. "It won't?"

Yagi shook his head. "It won't stay on that part of your hand."

When Izuku looked to Aizawa for confirmation, it was absurdly difficult to copy Yagi's nod. His eyes were just so big and hopeful, but his face fell at Aizawa's agreement, and it made him feel like an absolute villain. Izuku sniffed loudly, lower lip trembling worse than ever.

"O-Okay," he mumbled.

He was trying hard not to cry, but his words came out thick, his pout worsening. Yagi and Aizawa made eye contact, equally as helpless, and Aizawa wasn't sure if he should jump in or if that would make things worse.

"Oh!" Suddenly, Yagi was perking up again, and Aizawa cocked an eyebrow. "I've got it! I can kiss it better!"

What?

"You . . . you can do that?" Izuku sniffled, eyes wide and curious.

You can do that? Aizawa silently echoed, baffled.

"Of course!" Yagi declared, taking Izuku's hand gently once more. "Kisses have magic healing powers, you know."

What kind of nonsense -

Silly as he always was when cheering Izuku up, Yagi hummed loudly and gruffly like an engine revving, and with a loud, "Muah!" kissed the papercut on the child's palm.

Izuku was giggling already, wiping his eyes with his free hand. Yagi made a show of inspecting the cut very closely, as if judging his work carefully, then gave Izuku a thumbs-up, grinning broadly. Izuku glanced over to Aizawa, who kept up his silent support with an identical hand gesture.

"All better! It doesn't hurt anymore, right?"

"No!" Izuku shook his head with a wide, watery smile. "You're so cool, Toshi! Is it a quirk?"

Yagi shook his head, smiling mysteriously. "Magic," he insisted. "You'll understand when you grow up big." He emphasized it by stretching his arms out wide, then lowered his voice. "It's a grown-up secret technique. We can't tell kids all our secrets, can we?"

Izuku nodded excitedly. "When I'm a grown-up, I'll keep the secret too! Promise!"

Izuku raced back to his bedroom, laughing, and Yagi settled back onto the couch and focused on the television. From his place leaning against the bar, Aizawa tightened his grip on the mug, hiding his lower face in his scarf as heat rose in his cheeks.

That was the cutest fucking thing he'd ever seen.

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Kisses for minor cuts became a regular thing. Once or twice, Aizawa wondered if Izuku wasn't glad he got hurt by how eagerly he would ask for a magic healing kiss from the incredible All Might. Aizawa was glad he wasn't expected to do it, as too much affection was incredibly awkward for him.

He thought he was going to explode from cuteness when Izuku noticed a split knuckle from punching a thug in the mouth the night before and insisted on kissing it better. He complained until Aizawa let him, upset at the prospect of him being in pain, and the man wanted to yell to the heavens and demand to know what in the world he had done to be so blessed by such a perfect child.

Worse than that much cute was when, after a long night of fighting in which they had to request a neighbor babysit, they came home licking their own wounds.

Izuku took one look at the state Aizawa was in and proclaimed, eyes full of concern, "Toshi! Mr. Aizawa needs kisses, stat!"

Aizawa swore the world stopped turning for at least a second.

"Aha . . . hahaha!"

The laugh that issued from Yagi's throat was feeble. A glance at his face showed he was bright red, about the same hue Aizawa expected he himself was. He cleared his throat and shook his head, closing his eyes as casually as he could so he wouldn't have to look at Izuku's crestfallen face.

"I do not need any kisses," he said firmly, and he prayed that would be that.

It was one thing to let a child do something so naive, and another for a grown man to do it. Another for Yagi to do it. Finally, he felt comfortable living under the same roof, not even a little annoyed by him anymore. The last thing he needed was to strain their relationship once more.

"But you're hurt all over!" Izuku protested. All over was overdoing it. Their first aid kit would be more than enough, however much the cuts covering his body stung.

"Right," Yagi said quickly. "There's way too many injuries, I can't kiss them all."

But Izuku stared and pouted and started to tear up, so the heroes looked helplessly at each other and tried to communicate silently. Dread rose in his stomach as Yagi hesitantly raised a hand, putting a single finger up.

"Maybe . . . just one? To make the kid feel better?"

"They're supposed to make Mr. Aizawa feel better," Izuku corrected loudly. Yagi flinched, smiling placatingly.

"Of course. You're absolutely right, kiddo."

But Yagi didn't look at Izuku as he spoke, still watching Aizawa with a question in his eyes. Aizawa wished he would stop staring so earnestly. Willing away his embarrassment, he shrugged, shifting his gaze away from the both of them.

"Whatever," Aizawa muttered. If it makes Izuku happy, he thought.

It did make him happy, as it were; Izuku smiled wide and rocked on the balls of his feet, though Yagi didn't seem any more or less relieved.

"Which one should I heal?"

A mistake, one that made Aizawa bristle and Yagi cringe in on himself. There were too many injuries to choose from, so many in risky locations, some bleeding so much it'd be too messy, some painful enough that Aizawa didn't plan on letting them be touched at all. Thankfully, Izuku hmmmed thoughtfully for only a second before picking a shallow slice on his wrist - one that could have killed him, had that villain cut only a tiny bit deeper.

"That one," Izuku decided, pointing, then wrung his hands and stared expectantly at them both. For Izuku, Aizawa grumbled to himself. Hesitantly, he raised his arm, and allowed Yagi to delicately grasp his hand like it was something to be careful with. He felt Yagi pull his sleeve back gingerly, careful not to agitate any wounds.

It happened so quickly. A soft whisper, the faintest pressure against his skin like the beat of a butterfly's wings. So small, so insignificant that he might not have even noticed it, but unfortunately Aizawa was all too aware of Yagi's touch. For Izuku, he reminded himself sheepishly, even as his hand threatened to close into a fist and heat crawled up his neck. This was so unnecessary!

"There! All better, Aizawa!"

At least it was over, and Yagi could let go and Aizawa could go wrap his wounds and retire to his room to pretend none of this ever happened -

"Toshi, wait!" Izuku frowned, eyes wide and worried, and for once Aizawa wanted to scream instead of console him. "You didn't kiss his ouchie like you do mine, what if it doesn't work?"

"It'll be okay," Yagi tried, a fruitless effort, while Aizawa desperately wished he could disappear.

He had not yet released Aizawa's hand. His skin was warm. Was he just as embarrassed? Aizawa didn't exactly have a ton of blood at the moment, though, so maybe he wasn't a great comparison for temperature at the moment.

"But Toshi!"

You've gotta be fucking kidding me.

"You heard him, Yagi," Aizawa sighed, muffling his voice in his scarves. Someday, Aizawa was certain, Izuku would know exactly how manipulative his doe eyes and quivering lip were. He was not looking forward to that day.

Yagi's fingers twitched on his hand, his eyebrows raising inquisitively. The calluses on his fingertips were rough on Aizawa's skin. It shouldn't have been so jarring. He nodded, looking from the cut and Yagi's eyes pointedly, and thankfully Yagi got the message without having it spelled out.

Aizawa couldn't look. He tried hard not to flex his fingers with Izuku watching, closing his eyes in what he hoped was a cool expression. He tried harder to tune out the silly humming noise Yagi always made and fought hard to contain the heat crawling embarrassingly higher toward his face. He tried his hardest just to not be bothered. He wanted to gnaw at his lip, hidden behind the safety of his capture weapon, but he'd split

Then Yagi's lips pressed to the cut on his arm, warm and soft and oh-so-gentle, and Aizawa could hardly contain his reaction. His eyes shot open wide, redness overtaking his face, and to hide it he hunched his shoulders and hid his face as far as he could within his scarves. His entire body tensed against his will, skin far more sensitive to Yagi's stupid touch than it had any right to be, and was that his dignity draining away or his spirit leaving his body for shame? Both?

By the time Yagi was finished and proclaiming Aizawa healed, and Izuku was satisfied enough to skitter off to his room when asked, Aizawa was ready to jet. He withdrew his arm quickly and brushed past Izuku to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him as hurriedly as he could without slamming it.

He stood there for a second, willing himself to calm down. When all he could think about instead were Yagi's calloused hands, he unraveled his capture weapon, allowing it to pile on the floor, and turned on the sink to splash cold water on his face. It took several splashes before he could muster his usual apathetic scowl again, face dripping, and finally he set to work cleaning his wounds.

With a bowl of water and and a soft cloth ready, he carefully peeled off his shirt, hissing through his teeth as the fabric stubbornly clung to some drying blood and tugged at the injuries near it. This shirt has to be trashed, he thought grimly.

There was a knock at the door. Aizawa already knew who it had to be, but the voice still had him jumping minutely.

"You alright in there?" came Yagi's voice, muffled through the door. Aizawa shrugged despite knowing it would not be seen.

"I didn't want Izuku to see this shit." That was most of the reason, anyway. "He's still young."

"He's in his room."

"Door's unlocked."

There was very little pause between his invitation and the doorknob twisting, door swinging open to reveal exactly who was expected. It was common nowadays for Yagi and Aizawa to wrap their wounds together, and Yagi plopped down comfortably on the closed toilet lid to shirk off his shirt while Aizawa leaned against the edge of the tub, going to work rinsing the dried blood from his skin.

Somehow, being topless still left Aizawa feeling less exposed than that stupid kiss.

"Hey," Yagi spoke up as he rummaged in the cabinet for another towel. Aizawa only made a soft noise to acknowledge he was listening, unsure if he could handle eye contact at the moment. "Sorry about all that, back there. You didn't have to do it."

Aizawa offered a one-shoulder shrug. "I don't like to see him sad anymore than you do."

He could hear the smile in Yagi's tone. "It did make him really happy. Thanks for that."

Aizawa only hummed low in response. The quiet between them was surprisingly comfortable, a familiar atmosphere between battle-torn heroes. Aizawa finally remembered the soreness of his muscles and he slouched a little further than normal. He was going to sleep like a rock later, injuries be damned.

"Why do you do it?" He hadn't been thinking about it, not really, but he halted the wet towel at his wrist - at the cut that Yagi had . . .

"Do what? The magic kisses?" Yagi frowned. "Did your parents not do that sort of thing for you?"

It just felt like another reason to be embarrassed when he phrased it like that. Shaking his head and continuing to clean off caked blood, Aizawa repeated himself. "But why do it? Why lie to a child?"

"Because it makes him all better," Yagi answered matter-of-factly, like it was the simplest concept in the world.

Aizawa finished up his arms and set the rag in the bowl, staining the water red. "But it doesn't actually do anything," he argued, grabbing for the bandages. "Surely when he figures it out, it'll just end up upsetting him."

"It does do something," Yagi countered. He watched as Aizawa dabbed some ointment on a few of his nastier gashes. "It makes him smile and forget he's in pain. To him, that's magic."

"And when he grows up and realizes it was all a lie?" Frustration seeped into his challenge. It just didn't sit right, the idea of lying to a naive kid. "That the only magic kisses come from quirks, and you never had one like it?"

Yagi observed quietly as Aizawa struggled to start wrapping the bandage, an uncommon problem for him. He waited and watched until Aizawa finally realized what Yagi wanted and, annoyed, he glanced up to look at that stupid soft smile and found it impossible to keep that unwaveringly friendly stare. Aizawa looked back down, chewing at the inside of his split lip with annoyance growing in his gut, but Yagi seemed satisfied with what little eye contact he got.

"Izuku believes in it, so that makes it real," Yagi told him. He held a hand out, and Aizawa reluctantly handed him the roll of bandages. "Just because it's psychological instead of physical doesn't make the effect any less potent."

Aizawa grumbled but relented. "You could have just said that at the start." He held out his arm for Yagi to start rolling the bandages around, comfortably snug, jostling his injuries as little as possible. Halfway up his bicep, Yagi snipped the length and tucked the end in. "Wish your magic kisses worked on these nastier things, though. You'd put Recovery Girl out of business."

Yagi reached for his other hand. The palm of this one was skinned a little worse than what Aizawa would call superficial, but not too terribly. Yagi brought his hand closer, eyes skimming over his flesh, then looked back up at Aizawa with a question in his eyes. Aizawa granted his permission with a shrug and averted eyes.

It was a somewhat more open wound than the last, certainly more painful, though this one had been thoroughly cleaned and was not bleeding. Without an audience, the kiss Yagi pressed to his palm was somehow sweeter, softer, and to Aizawa's surprise it did not altogether hurt much when touched. A shiver shot up his arm and along his spine nonetheless.

Yagi pulled back after a moment, thumb tracing over an untouched patch of skin. "Better?" he asked, voice low and husky in a way that brought on more shivers.

A shrug. "Don't think so."

"Ah, well," Yagi muttered, and started wrapping Aizawa's hand. "Had to try."

Aizawa could not tell if it was his hand trembling or Yagi's. The bandage wound up past his wrist. Yagi almost looked downtrodden at the denial. Feeling a bit guilty, Aizawa mused aloud, "You could try again."

Yagi raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" The smile brought to his face lit up the atmosphere like nothing else ever could, bringing warmth with it. "What would be the purpose?"

Aizawa cocked his head, the smallest inklings of a mischievous expression forming as he tapped his temple. "Maybe I stopped you from using it, so I could make a fool out of you."

Yagi seemed nothing but pleased by the invitation. His eyes roamed the bruised and bloodied expanse of skin that was Aizawa's arm and, after a moment, kissed a tiny cut no worse than a cat scratch on his forearm.

An amused curl of the lips. "Erased again?"

Eyebrows raised ever so slightly, a playful lilt in his voice. "If I tell you, that takes all the fun out of it."

Fingers careful to maneuver around each laceration, Yagi would pick an injury, typically rather small, to bless with a tender brush of his lips. Each kiss had a pink flush strengthening on Aizawa's cheeks - what a silly thing to be so flustered over, kisses - but a glance at Yagi's red ears showed he was in the same boat. Each kiss was followed by another wrap of the bandages, until this arm was neatly tied off at the top as well.

Yagi did not release Aizawa's hand, and Aizawa did not complain. Rather, he was more soothed than anything by the way Yagi ran his thumb over his knuckles.

"Shame," Yagi sighed. "I failed to heal all of them."

Heart skipping a beat in his chest from his own boldness, Aizawa said, "Not all. There's one more."

Yagi's gaze fell on his split lip. The movement of his thumb halted, and he stared long enough that Aizawa wanted to squirm under his stare. Of course, he had far better restraint than that. With no move from Yagi, Aizawa scooted closer, and Yagi let out a sharp exhale.

"Will you let it work this time?" he asked.

Yagi stood and braced his hands on the lip of the tub, arms on either side of Aizawa, caging him in. Aizawa kept still, taking in the leisurely method Yagi took in approaching, the way he gave Aizawa plenty of time to back out if he wanted, but Aizawa didn't want to back out in the slightest. Yagi's face loomed closer and he rested their foreheads together.

"You'll have to wait and see," Aizawa whispered.

He thought Yagi's lips had been soft against his skin, but he was nowhere near prepared for how lovely they felt against his own. His eyes slid shut easily, and he obeyed without complaint when a light touch under his chin guided him to tilt his head back further. It was only one kiss, an incredibly sweet one, and when Yagi moved to pull back Aizawa found himself chasing the other man's lips.

"Better?" Yagi breathed. His eyes were brilliant blue. Had Aizawa ever noticed that before? Had he ever bothered to look?

"Hm . . . "

Aizawa still didn't bother opening his eyes all the way, his half-lidded gaze and parted lips making Yagi, a weak man, an easy victim to reach forward and trace his finger along the split bottom lip.

Well . . . " Aizawa drew the word out in a pondering lilt, and flicked his tongue out to catch on Yagi's thumb. Yagi's face seemed to suddenly bloom with red hues, but he did not back off. "I may have felt something. Maybe. We'd have to try a few more times to be sure."

A short chuckle answered him, and Yagi moved close once more. "I think we can do that."