(For /y/ anon and all those supplying me lots of great bnha goodness)

"Easy does it, kiddo. Easy."

Kirishima didn't mean to squirm. Didn't mean to buck his head so hard back he almost broke Fat Gum's nose. He wanted to be good, he wanted to do what the impressive pro hero was teaching him, and most importantly, he just wanted Fat Gum's enormous and warm hands to keep running themselves up and down the sides of his bruised and beaten frame.

The Pro Hero laughed deeply at the aspiring second Red Riot in his lap. The boy felt his own bones rattle against the much larger man's chest, his chuckle vibrating through them together.

Kirishima huffed out breathy pants, spindles of drool dripped down his chin. He was seated like a King upon Fat Gum's ridiculously long legs, his bandaged back pressed against the letter 'G' of the man's torso. One of Fat Gum's arm wrapped itself around protectively, securely, over Kirishima's whole front, keeping him close to him. He was mindful of the plastic tubes that were running into the boy's nose (collapsed lungs the doctors said) and the needles taped to his arms (too much loss of blood the doctors said).

The pro hero working Kirishima's

Later, Fat Gum would blame the kid's sudden flush of his skin and and pleading moans on the cocktail of pain kills and morphing the doctor's had put in him. Maybe even later, after that, he would blame himself for taking advantage of the riled up youth.

But it was hard to deny such a wanton pretty face, one that was nearly clawing at you to come closer when you stepped inside his hospital room for the first time since their grand fight with the villains.

Kirishima had been badly damaged, yes, that much was true. Fat Gum rushed to see him, proud of his new employee and yet shamed at how badly he allowed the still U.E. student to get <i>this</i> hurt under his watch. "Broken" is the word the young man used, tears coating his cheeks, throat so dry he could barely even muster that one word. Fat Gum, out of his protective round form, dropped to side sit on Kirishima's hospital bed. He pulled the boy in so quickly to himself, he almost upset the bed. In Fat Gum's long arms, in that tight embrace, all Kirishima could do was wail pathetically into that soft hoodie, every limb screaming in pain, his skin on fire from the quick movements.

They stayed like that forever. Fat Gum glaring at whatever nurse popped her head into the room to check why the monitors attached to Kirishima's chest and head were drastically changing their numbers.

"Shhhh. You did well, Kirishima. You did SO well." Fat Gum would mutter into the boy's locks. Red Riot certainly did look like a completely different person when his usually spiked up hair, those two front locks of hair mimicking little devil horn, laid flat and loose over his eyes. Fat Gum allowed the boy to cry, strange as it was. The man never figured such a boy who praised manliness over anything else to allow the tears to flow so freely. Then again, maybe that's why he would one day become such a fantastic pro. Kirishima wore his feeling on his sleeves, regrettably for the world to see, and that too made Fat Gum admire the boy even more.

And this is where the trouble started. Fat Gum really should have done what All Might would have done. All Might would have embraced the boy but then would have pulled away, leaving him with a hearty pat on the back, maybe a manly firm grip of his shoulders. He would flash that damn perfect smile at the boy for a job well done and would have been on his way.

That's what All Might would have done.

But Fat Gum did not do that.

Fat Gum, instead, dipped his head down a little lower, a little closer to the side of Kirishima's face. He said mumbled comforting babble in the boy's ear, then allowed one of his hands to gently rest on the back of all those red locks and smooth the hair down, over and over again. Kirishima didn't seem to mind the petting, and when all the tears were done, or perhaps he was just too tired to continue the sobbing any more.

Fat Gum brought his hand up to the top of his head one more time and when he brought it back down, he passed the base of that pale neck and let it travel down, down, down. Down to the base of Kirishima's slightly damaged spine and let it linger there. It was like holding an action figure; Kirishima's much smaller waist almost fit perfectly in Fat Gum's massive palm.

Kirishima just stared down at the lettering of Fat Gum's hoodie, breathing in his sent. Kirishima would like to think it was something nice, like baked bread and mint after shave, or spring flowers from the fabric softer that kept his hoodie so soft. But the to-be-soon-second-Red-Riot, couldn't smell anything, his nose was too overpowered by the medicine on his tongue, the bleach of the hospital hallways and room, and the recycled air that was pushed into his nostrils from the breathing tube.

He looked up at Fat Gum then, towering over him, a three or four feet taller than him, easy,  who hadn't moved yet himself, hands hesitant to explore any further...no matter how desperately they wanted to. His past fellow offers would be ashamed of him now, but it didn't matter. Not now. Not when Kirishima was looking up with  an undeniable thousand yard stare glazed over those blood stained eyes of his. Not when Kirishima's soft mouth was parted slightly open, and Fat Gum's penis almost hardened immediately and threatened to rip a hole in his pants at the mere thought of those pointy teeth grazing themselves over his throbbing member in what could be considered the greatest blow job in all of mankind.

Fat Gum removed that thought for another time...
It was easy then, to bend over Kirishima and kiss him, to test the waters. To see if the kid would violently turn his head away or not. If those smaller arms, devote of his quirk abilities for the time being, would push Fat Gum away from him after he would realize what was happening. But all Kirishima did was sit upright, his head tilted back to grant Fat Gum easy access to his dry lips.

The hand at his back cupped around him tightly and when he finally kissed back (though sloppily and clearly unpracticed), all Fat Gum had to do was slip his hand underneath Kirishima’s legs, lift him up like a pillowcase filled with flower petals and place him carefully in his lap. He was careful with the boy, even when he put his chin on top the back of his head, mindful of the bandages around his forehead.

Kirishima leaned back into him, fitting almost too perfectly up against his chest, under his chin. He tilted his head nicely to the side when Fat Gum started to place his mouth on his exposed neck, taking tiny nips of the youthful flesh, darting his tongue out a little to lick up under his jawline. The young hero was definitely experienced, obvious by how straight spined he had become and how he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. Fat Gum even felt him shaking slightly.

“Just relax, Kirishima. I’m gonna thank you properly for saving me back there.”

And here they were. With one arm holding Kirishima close to him, the other slipping between them, his hand going underneath the flimsy hospital dress gown, and touched between Kirishima's legs.

It was when the red haired hero, yes, he was a hero as far as Fat Gum was considered, pure in heart and strong as all mercy, started to grind his hips against the former police officer's thigh, that Fat Gum almost lost hold of the kid and dropped him to the floor.

"<i>Christ</i>" Fat Gum thought, his own features pinched in pain. If Kirishima didn't stop wiggling around so much, he was going to come right there and then.

“What I saw before, hmm? Eeeeasy. Easy.” he said against the crown of Kirishima’s skull.

It was easy to reach around Kirishima's smaller frame with his left arm in front of him to grab under his thigh and lift his leg up a little. It was even easier to get the boy to sit neatly almost right on top Fat Gum’s palm. His long fingers slid between Kirishima’s cheeks and it caused the boy to dip his head down, losing the strength to hold his head up any longer.

Fat Gum caught the little case of salve the nurses were using to smooth over Kirishima’s cracked and scorched skin on the silver tray of other medicines. He reached for it, Kirishima moaning in protest when he ceased his pleasant rubbing.

Fat Gum leaned forward then, his chest pushing against Kirishima’s back, and forcing him to bend over the furthest he could go.  Satisfied, Fat Gum smiled gently and told Kirishima to hush when a cold, slikced up digit touched his entrance and then pushed itself in carefully.

First the knuckle passed the tight ring of muscle, the pink skin around Kirishima’s soft hole being spread, then Fat Gum would pull it back out. The tip of his finger would circle the quivering hole, the sauve getting everywhere, then he would push his finger more deeply in.

“There we go, that’s it.” Fat Gum said, more to himself.

His finger would pull out again, then push back in, each time going a little further, until the kid was practically riding his palm out of his own merit, moving his hips nicely in order to feel the base of Fat Gum’s hand holding him, while his long digited smoother out his insides.

It was easy to add a second finger, Kirishima’s body was loose from the medication, simple to tease and fondle.

“Oh Kirishima, the things I will teach you under my employment.”

The boy nodded dumbly back, a little unaware of what Fat Gum actually said. Just that his voice was kind and filled with heat.

Three fingers in and Fat Gum leaned back a little, gave the boy some breathing room and watched him bounce in his lap. Finger fucking had always been one of Fat Gum’s best traits. Both men and women could appreciate it just how talented he could be with maneuvering his hand in just a way. But Kirishima, even all bandaged up, was doing all the work now. Rolling his hips, bouncing his legs, arching his back, utterly loving the feeling of Fat Gum being literally all around him.  And in return, Kirishima being all around him, in a manner of speaking.

Fat Gum was calling him a good boy, saying what a good job he did, praising his efforts as a hero. Fat Gum had called him a hero, right in his ear, and without meaning to, he came. It was a short burst of cum, but Fat Gum wasn’t ready to give up the show yet, and again, he laughed at Kirishima’s childness.

“So easy to complement, mmm?”

Fat Gum drove his fingers in. Then out. Dipped them slowly back in. Pulled them out. He then buried them deep, held Kirishima still and wiggled his digits inside him, fanning them open, rubbing against the sides of his sensitive walls.

“D-don’t-” Kirishima managed to sputter out, his eyes threatening to roll in the back of his head from the simple pleasure. Fat Gum cut him off.

“Don’t? Hmm? Don’t what? Stop? Greedy boy.”

The man bit him then, a flare of both guilt and thrill, on his already badly hurt shoulder. His fingers then rammed themselves in and out in a perfect tempo, Fat Gum’s other hand guiding Kirishima's hip to bounce to the rhythm. Kirishima’s small hands gripped what they could of Fat Gum’s costume, the black fabric of his pants the only thing keeping him grounded to this Earth.

The kid was so lost within the feeling, he barely noticed when Fat Gum finally undid his own zipper, and freened his hardened cock. The red haired boy almost couldn’t keep his jaw shut at the sight of it. It certainly matched the man’s own frame; long and steady, and there was certainly no way in Heaven or Hell would that ever fit inside anywhere in Kirishima.

Fat Gum, as if reading Kirishima’s mind, maneuvered his large member in between the boy’s thighs, grunting out as he did. When Kirishima looked back at him, Fat Gum only have him a grin.

“You’re doing great. Just close your legs for me. That’s it. Like that. Perfect. Good. Good boy.” he said reassuringly back to him. He moved Kirishima’s hips up with this fingers still nestled inside him, and when he did, the inside of his thighs gripped his cock and slide up and down the sensitive flesh.

“Ah.” they both spit out at the same time.

Kirishima shattered first, but poor boy being far too over stimulated at this point. It was another short burst, his climax hitting him a little harder this time, a string of his himself shooting out onto the tiled hospital floor before him. Fat Gum snapped his own hips up a few more times, fingers dipping into Kirishima’s warmth at the same time, and then he too let himself go. He shot out quickly enough. He wasn’t too interested in drawing this out, in holding himself back. Not this time. Not here.

He would bid his time, as he no longer had to see if Kirishima would even be willing to allow himself to get this close to him. But Kirishima couldn’t have wanted it more. His eager looks and hero worship was an enough tell.

Next time, Fat Gum would draw it out, make the boy beg a little, before properly fucking him, and not with just his fingers. He thought back to those lovely teeth…

Kirishima then slumped back against Fat Gum, sleep, exhaustion and medicine finally taking him over the edge. With one more swipe of his hand, Fat Gum brushed the red hair out of Kirishima’s face and placed one last chaste kiss on his cheek.

“Well done, hero. Now get some rest.”

Lifting Kirishima up again in his arms, Fat Gum stood and cradled the young man a moment more. Then he placed him upon his starchy pillow and pulled the covers back over him. He stared down at Red Riot and thought how he would have been dead if it wasn’t for him. His new employee. His new shield.

Fat Gum left the room, smiling kindly at a nurse who passed him, and thought that right now, he could eat one hundred takoyaki.