Work Text:
Aizawa had been working as an underground pro hero for many years. He’d fought countless villains, but one in particular had managed to lodge himself under his skin in a way Aizawa never expected.
Karma was a sly thing - always slipping away at the last moment. Aizawa had been on his tail for months, almost obsessively so. That is, until he stopped actively trying to catch him. He wasn’t even sure when it happened. At some point, the chase turned into something else entirely. Somehow they stopped being just hero and villain. They’d even shared a few conversations, strange, sporadic moments where Karma seemed almost... human. Almost honest.
Their relationship was complicated in a way Aizawa didn’t have the patience to untangle. They were on opposite sides after all. They clashed constantly, yet Karma’s recent visit lingered stubbornly in his mind.
It had only been two days since that visit. Aizawa had taken the night off due to a cold, intending to sleep it off. Instead, Karma had appeared unannounced on his doorstep carrying food and sarcasm disguised as concern so poorly it was almost insulting. Aizawa hadn’t known whether to kick him out or let him in. The villain solved that dilemma by walking inside on his own.
Now, back on patrol, the streets were quiet in that eerie way that made the air feel too thin. Aizawa exhaled, his breath fogging in the cold night. He couldn’t tell if the stillness was just calm… or if something was waiting to happen. His footsteps were nearly silent against the pavement, a familiar rhythm grounding him as his thoughts drifted back - annoyingly - to Karma.
Why had he come?
How did he even know Aizawa was sick?
And the damn soup…
...
His hand brushed over a piece of paper in his pocket. Despite delivering the food personally Karma still left a note on the container, scribbled in that ridiculous glittery pen of his he used to write all his cheeky comments with. It was practically his trademark - dozens of them already in the police reports, and more showing up whenever he was involved in trouble around town.
He felt an urge to take out the note but he crumbled it lightly between his fingers instead. He remembered every word anyway.
“Soup's for the weak. Literally. Everyone always said that's a cure for it all so it has to work.
Get better, there's no other i want to bother out there :)
Karma”
Aizawa clicked his tongue, shaking his head and forcing the embarrassing warmth in his chest to scatter.
The streets were mostly empty, save for the occasional stray cat or a stumbling drunk. Predictable. Then, another silhouette appeared ahead - slow-moving, hooded, hands shoved into pockets. Something about the figure’s posture tugged at Aizawa’s senses. Their steps were too loose, too relaxed, like they weren’t truly aware of their path.
He narrowed his eyes and trailed quietly behind them. Habit. Caution. Suspicion. Maybe it was nothing — someone heading home late, distracted by their mind. Or maybe it was someone who’d cause trouble once they thought no one was looking.
The figure slipped into a dark alleyway. Aizawa followed through a side path, cutting ahead to intercept them. He waited in the shadows, body still, breath controlled.
As the stranger walked through the alley, led by their unhurried step, Aizawa moved fast, grabbing them and pinning them against the wall before they had time to react.
The person grunted, startled, tense under the sudden force that held them against the wall. After a brief moment of silent confusion, they looked up and blinked a few times before recognition sharpened their eyes.
“You’ve got too much time on your hands to stalk me like that, ’Raser?”
Aizawa felt a tug at his lips as his mind registered the voice.
“Karma.”
He didn’t loosen his hold. “What are you doing in this part of town? Looking for trouble again?”
“I was just going home,” Karma replied, sounding genuinely flat. He wasn’t wearing his usual surgical mask today, just the hood shadowing his face. Aizawa had seen him unmasked before, but rarely and usually with more fight in him.
“Just going home, huh? And you just happened to take this dark alley?” Aizawa’s brow arched, tone sharp and skeptical.
“It’s a shortcut. I was on autopilot.” Karma shrugged. He looked off… Definitely not his usual alert, calculating self.
“Autopilot, huh? You’re losing your touch.”
Aizawa adjusted his hold, studying him more closely. The hood hid too much, annoyingly getting in the way. He reached up and pushed it back.
Brown hair fell around Karma’s tired-looking eyes. There were faint shadows there that hadn’t been present two days ago. Aizawa noticed immediately and something twisted in his chest despite himself. He shouldn't.
“You look tired,” he murmured.
Was it concern? He hated to admit it, but he'd become almost fond of this villain. He pushed that feeling deep down.
“Aww, are you worried?” Karma teased, lips curving slightly, while his eyes squinted just a tad in amusement
Aizawa rolled his eyes, but didn’t relent. “Worried? No. Annoyed. Can’t have you passing out in the street where someone else might get to you. That’s my job.”
Beneath the gruffness, the softness was unmistakable. And Karma caught it.
“Oh? So I’m reserved exclusively for you now?” The smirk widened.
Aizawa’s fingers tightened around the fabric. That stupid smirk always knocked him off balance. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that? What am I supposed to do with you?”
Karma leaned in, reducing the distance between them to almost nothing.
“Is that a threat, Eraser? Or… an invitation?”
His voice dropped as he tilted his head. He brushed his lips close - too close - before pulling away with infuriating precision.
Something in Aizawa snapped. Desire. Frustration. Restraint breaking. That tease was going to be the death of him.
“Tch. You wish.”
Before he could overthink it, he closed the distance and kissed him. Firm. Certain. Too honest. And when he pulled back, his voice rasped low.
“…Stop playing games.”
Karma blinked, momentarily thrown, heart pounding against Aizawa’s chest. The boldness stunned him, the heat of the moment spreading on the back of his neck. It was rare for Aizawa to be so bold.
Then he recovered, lips curving again though the edges of the smile were softer now. He could feel Aizawa's breath on his skin, and the warning in his voice only made him more intrigued.
“Who says I’m playing?”
He leaned closer, his voice lowering to a murmur.
“Maybe I’m serious.”
Aizawa’s breath hitched. His fingers flexed against Karma’s arms. Logic screamed at him. He wanted to scold him, to push him away, to say something rational - but the warmth between them killed his restraint.
“Serious?” he scoffed, though his voice faltered at the edges. “Then prove it. Start by staying out of trouble for once.”
His grip loosened, shifting one hand to Karma’s neck, thumb brushing the line of his jaw.
“…You’re a mess.”
“Always.” Karma replied lightly, though his eyes held something more vulnerable.
Aizawa sighed — almost fondly — thumb lingering on warm skin. “You’re impossible.”
He leaned in again, slower this time, giving Karma a chance to pull away. He didn’t.
The kiss was softer, deeper - a quiet surrender in the dark. When they finally parted, Aizawa rested his forehead against Karma’s, voice barely above a whisper.
“…Go home. Get some rest. Before I actually do my job and haul you in.”
“You’d never,” Karma murmured, rolling his eyes with a soft, affectionate smile.
Aizawa huffed a quiet laugh, his thumb lightly brushing once more along his jaw. That smile — damn him — it was dangerous how much he liked it.
“Don’t test me.”
He almost kissed him again. Almost let himself stay in that narrow, dimly lit alley a little longer. Instead he forced himself to step back, hand falling away with lingering reluctance.
“Go. Before I change my mind.”
Karma pulled his hood back up and slipped into the night without another word.
Aizawa watched him go, lingering for longer than he should have before turning away with a sigh. He adjusted his capture weapon and disappeared into the shadows once more.