Our night together

The heavy steel door of the Kirishima residence creaked open with a groan that mirrored the state of Eijiro’s joints. It was past midnight, and the silence of the apartment was a stark contrast to the cacophony of sirens, crumbling concrete, and shouting civilians that had defined his last fourteen hours. As Red Riot, he was a pillar of strength, a man whose skin could withstand the force of an exploding building. But as Eijiro, the man currently fumbling with his keys, he felt like he was held together by nothing more than sheer willpower and a very sturdy hero costume.

He kicked off his heavy boots, the thud echoing in the hallway. His shoulders were hunched, the crimson cape of his costume singed at the edges and smelling faintly of ozone and smoke. Every muscle in his back screamed for a hot shower, but his heart ached for something more vital.

As he rounded the corner into the living room, the dim glow of a single floor lamp bathed the space in a warm, amber hue. There, sprawled across the velvet emerald sofa with the effortless grace of a jungle cat, was Mina.

She was wearing one of his oversized black hoodies—the one with the Crimson Riot logo fading on the chest—and a pair of tiny silk shorts that did very little to hide the long, pink curves of her legs. Her horns caught the light, and her dark eyes, usually bright and dancing with mischief, softened the moment they landed on him.

"You look like you went twelve rounds with a mountain, Eiji," she said, her voice a melodic purr that cut through his exhaustion.

Eijiro chuckled, a tired, raspy sound. He dropped his gear bag by the door and trudged toward her. "Feels like it, too. Villain with a kinetic absorption quirk. Every time I hit him, he just got bigger. Took the whole Fat Gum Agency just to pin him down."

Mina didn't say a word. She uncoiled herself from the sofa, her movements fluid and rhythmic. She walked toward him, the hem of the hoodie brushing her mid-thigh, and stopped just inches from his chest. The scent of her—sweet jasmine and something uniquely acidic but pleasant—filled his senses, instantly grounding him.

She reached up, her pink fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. "My poor, brave shark," she whispered. "You’re all wound up. I can feel the tension radiating off you."

"I'm fine, Mina. Just a long day," he lied, though his eyes closed involuntarily as she leaned in.

Mina hummed a low, vibrating sound against his skin before pressing her lips to his. It wasn't a gentle greeting; it was a slow, deep claim. She tasted like the cherry lollipop she had clearly been snacking on, and the heat of her mouth sparked a fire in his belly that surged past his fatigue. Eijiro’s hands, still calloused and rough from his quirk, found her waist, pulling her flush against him. He groaned into the kiss, his fingers digging into the soft fabric of the hoodie.

When she pulled back, she was smirking, her yellow eyes flashing with a playful, predatory glint. "You're a terrible liar, Eijiro Kirishima. Your shoulders are up to your ears and your heart is racing."

She stepped back, just out of his reach, and began to move. It wasn't a walk; it was a dance. Mina had always been the best dancer in Class 1-A, her body possessing a natural elasticity that made every movement look like liquid. She circled him slowly, her hips swaying in a way that made his throat go dry.

"You know," she said, her voice dropping an octave, "I was thinking about how hard you work. How much you give to everyone else. And I thought... maybe it’s time someone gave something back to you."

Eijiro sank onto the edge of the sofa, his breath hitching. "Mina, what are you doing?"

"Shhh," she hissed playfully. "Just watch."

She reached for the remote on the coffee table, clicking a button. A low, bass-heavy R&B track began to pulse through the speakers of their home theater system. The rhythm was slow, sensual, and heavy.

Mina stood in the center of the rug, the light behind her silhouetting her athletic frame. She began to move to the beat, her hands sliding up her own sides, tracing the curves she knew he loved. She dropped into a low squat, her knees wide, and rolled her hips with a precision that made Eijiro’s vision blur.

She was teasing him, her eyes locked onto his, never breaking contact. She moved closer, the hoodie sliding off one shoulder to reveal a hint of pink collarbone and a lacy black strap. When she reached him, she didn't stop. She turned around, placing her hands on his knees for balance, and lowered herself onto his lap.

Eijiro’s hands instinctively went to her hips, his thumbs tracing the dip of her waist. "Mina... you’re going to kill me," he rasped.

"Not yet," she whispered, looking over her shoulder at him with a wink.

She began to move against him, grinding her hips in slow, agonizing circles that synced perfectly with the thrumming bass of the music. The friction of her silk shorts against his hero trousers was maddening. He could feel the heat of her skin through the layers, a searing brand that made his quirk flicker instinctively, his skin hardening for a split second before he forced himself to relax.

Mina felt the change in him, the way his muscles bunched and his breathing became shallow. She turned around in his lap, straddling him properly now, her legs locked around his waist. She ran her hands through his dyed red hair, tugging gently at the roots to pull his head back.

"Is the big, tough Red Riot feeling better?" she teased, her face inches from his.

"I'm feeling... something," he managed to choke out. He leaned forward, burying his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. "You're so bright, Mina. Always so bright. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Mina’s expression softened, the flirtatious mask slipping to reveal the deep, abiding love she held for the man beneath the armor. She cradled his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing over the small scar above his eye.

"You'll never have to find out," she said softly. "But right now, I want you to stop thinking about villains. Stop thinking about the city. I want you to only think about me."

She leaned down, nipping at his earlobe before whispering something low and filthy that made Eijiro’s blood turn to molten lead.

He didn't need any more encouragement. He stood up abruptly, catching her under the thighs to keep her hitched to his waist. Mina let out a delighted squeal, wrapping her arms around his neck as he began to stride toward their bedroom.

"The bed?" she asked, her voice breathless.

"The bed," he confirmed, his voice booming with a newfound energy. "And maybe the floor. And the dresser."

Mina laughed, a bright, bubbly sound that filled the hallway. "So manly, Eiji!"

He kicked the bedroom door shut behind them, the sound of the latch clicking into place signaling the end of the outside world. Inside the room, the moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting long shadows across the rumpled sheets.

He set her down on the edge of the mattress, but before he could pull away to strip off the rest of his gear, she reached out and grabbed his tactical belt.

"Let me," she said.

Her movements were slower now, deliberate. She unbuckled the heavy plates of his costume, the metal clattering to the floor. She peeled back the compression shirt, revealing the map of scars and hard-won muscle that made up his torso. Every time her fingers brushed his skin, Eijiro felt a jolt of electricity. He was a man built for endurance, but Mina knew exactly how to break his defenses.

When he was finally stripped down to his boxers, he looked at her, his eyes dark with a hunger that was entirely focused on her. He reached for the hem of the black hoodie she was wearing.

"My turn," he said.

He pulled the garment over her head, tossing it carelessly aside. Mina sat before him in nothing but her silk shorts and a matching lace bra, her pink skin glowing in the moonlight. She looked like a goddess, a creature of pure color and light that he was lucky enough to call his wife.

He pushed her back onto the pillows, hovering over her, his arms braced on either side of her head. "I love you," he whispered, the words heavy with a passion that went far beyond the physical. "I love you so much it hurts sometimes."

Mina reached up, pulling him down into another kiss, this one searing and desperate. "Then show me, Eijiro. Show me how much."

The night became a blur of tangled limbs and whispered promises. Eijiro moved with a gentleness that belied his strength, his hands worshipping every inch of her. He was slow, savoring the way she gasped his name, the way her fingers clawed at his back when he hit the right spot.

Mina was a fire in his arms, her body arching to meet his, her movements rhythmic and urgent. She was the one who pushed him further, her flirty comments turning into breathless moans that drove him wild. When they finally merged, it was an explosion of sensation that made the rest of the world fall away.

In that moment, there were no heroes. There were no villains. There was only the weight of his body against hers, the sound of their synchronized breathing, and the overwhelming heat of their connection. Eijiro poured every ounce of his stress, his exhaustion, and his devotion into her, and Mina took it all, giving it back tenfold with every touch.

As the climax took them, Eijiro held her tight, his forehead pressed against hers. He felt like he was floating, the tension that had plagued him all day finally dissolving into the ether.

Long minutes passed as their heart rates slowed. The only sound in the room was the distant hum of the city and the soft rustle of the curtains in the breeze. Eijiro was sprawled on his back, Mina tucked firmly under his arm, her head resting on his chest. He traced idle patterns on her shoulder, his fingers tracing the faint, swirling markings of her skin.

"Better?" Mina asked, her voice sleepy and satisfied.

Eijiro kissed the top of her head, between her horns. "A lot better. You're a miracle worker, Mina."

"I know," she murmured, snuggling closer. "But don't think this means you're getting out of doing the dishes tomorrow. You still owe me for that."

Eijiro laughed, a deep, hearty sound that vibrated through both of them. He closed his eyes, the scent of jasmine and cherry still clinging to him, and for the first time in days, he felt completely at peace.

"Deal," he said, pulling the duvet over them both. "I'll do the dishes. I'll do whatever you want."

"Good," Mina whispered, already drifting off. "Because I have a few more ideas for tomorrow night."

Eijiro smiled into the darkness, his heart full. He was a hero to the world, but here, in the quiet of their room, he was just a man who was hopelessly, passionately in love with his wife. And as far as he was concerned, that was the greatest superpower of all.