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Dabi is a creature of fire, a burning ember that, once sparked consumes all around him. A fire that burns fierce and bright until it flickers out. Taking everything with him.
Hawks is the opposite, he is an all-encompassing void with a sunshine outer layer that shines so brightly, it draws you in until you get close enough to fall and never stop falling.
Whoever had thought to liken him to Icarus couldn’t have been more wrong in the comparison. No, in this case, it was not the one who flies too high who falls. But the wretched creature who thinks he can gaze upon where the other rests. It is not Hawks who falls from broken wings, but Dabi, who tumbles from the cliff’s ledge blindly gazing upon the others light.
It’s a dreadful thing, the love Dabi holds for the blonde, what should be pure is instead twisted with him and his blackened heart that doesn’t quite know or remember how to love properly.
Hawks is something angelic that has yet to be tainted by the sins of Dabi’s past and the blood and ashes on his hands.
The hero playing villain has somehow become a refuge from Dabi’s mind, someone who wards off the demons of his past as easily as if it was his quirk.
Hawks lays in bed with him in his shitty apartment on the bad side of town, uncaring of the demons that reside in the dirtied soul that holds him close. An impure thing that could set him ablaze while he slept is instead wrapped within the warm embrace of red wings.
The man sleeps on.
Dabi watches the way that the moonlight, shining through the dirty and cracked window, hits the smaller man’s hair, shining its soft light on the blonde hair in a way that resembles a halo. And Dabi is enraptured.
He chuckles, low and soft, as he runs his hands through the soft hair, “Maybe you are an angel, hero.”
Hawks twitches in his sleep, sighing as his wings shift slightly. The feathers tickle against his chest and shoulders where the nerves aren’t as badly damaged. And Dabi smiles, a lazy little grin, as Hawks blinks open sleepy eyes. He squints up at Dabi, eye groggy and glazed over with sleep, snuggling up against Dabi’s chest, wings fluttering.
“Dabi?”
“Hush, Pretty Bird”
Hawks sighs, humming in contentment as Dabi runs his fingers through the red feathers, gentle hands moving soothingly. And It’s such a different thing to the rough hands that he used against others and to fight against the world that, if it weren’t for the scars the spread over him like an infection, Dabi would almost think they didn’t really belong to him.
(Dabi Touya remembers a time his hands were kind, a time when he was softer and more open. Before the harsh words and harsher blows and flames forced him to defend, made him ready to attack. Took his soft edges and kind nature and sharpened it, fashioned it into a weapon, cruel and deadly, ridding him of any of his gentle nature his mother's nature. When the world was still gentle words and loving hugs. Soft, long white hair and kind grey eyes. When he still had a twin standing by his side that was everything he wasn’t. That completed him. When the world was the happiness of siblings and not the cruelness of a father and a hero.)
The golden eyes that stare up at him half-lidded are no less sharp now than they are when awake and Dabi thinks that, at that moment, half asleep and surrounded by their mistakes, maybe he can learn to be kind again.
And isn’t that dangerous? A creature who is already so far gone thinking it can be redeemed, thinking it can relearn the things it’s lost, give back what it’s stolen.
“You’re thinking too loudly.”
Hawks’ smile is quite, so unlike the plastered on grin he wears in public, soft in a way it only ever is when the two of them are alone together.
Dabi smirks at the other, one that softens the longer he looks at the winged hero, and questions him. “Really?”
Hawks nods, humming, half asleep and serious. “Mhm, go to sleep Dabs, It’ll stop your brain from being so noisy.” Dabi snorts and Hawks is a little more awake now, looking up at him petulantly. He sighs and runs his hands through the blonde hair, causing Hawks to trill softly in contentment.
Dabi grins at that, it makes him almost giddy, the fact that Hawks is willing to let him see the parts of him that don’t fit within the neat little box that society has labelled human-like and acceptable. It’s a sign of trust (and Dabi has already taken so much from so many, what more is the trust from an angel on his tainted soul?)
“Sleep Dabi”
“You too, Birdy.” He smiles and returns his hand to Hawks’ feathers, running through them soothingly as the other’s eyes closed again, content. Minutes later they both drift off into slumber to the lullaby of the forgotten neighbourhood.
Dabi awakes to the sound of shuffling and the shadow of majestic wings in the faint light cast by the rising sun. The sunrise is visible through the window and there’s a chill in the room now, or maybe Dabi is just now feeling it because Hawks has left the bed. The hero moves quietly about the room, getting dressed for the day. The blonde’s hair catches the sun’s rays, shining on him where the moon had illuminated him. The softened look from the moon’s light is instead replaced by the suns harsher light, highlighting his features and making them sharper, the contours of his face and the markings around his eyes standing out more.
Like this Hawks resembles the picture of an avenging angel more than the graced one he was under the cover of the stars, and it’s a difference that reminds Dabi just where they stand. It’s a dangerous game for a sinner to play, this balancing game of their lives, the hero and the villain.
Dabi sits up, leaning against the headboard, and Hawks sends him a smile.
“Morning, Firecracker.” The winged man walks over, hair still messy and without his jacket or gloves on, he has a goofy grin on his face and Dabi rolls his eyes.
“Morning Pretty Bird, you gonna leave without a goodbye?”
Hawks’ eyes soften and he shakes his head gently, “Nah, just wanted to let you sleep in a bit. If you were still asleep when I had to leave I would’ve woken you.”
Dabi finds himself relaxing just the slightest, he hadn’t even realized just how much Hawks leaving while he was still asleep would’ve bothered him until just now. Hawks climbs back into the bed, careful of not only his wings and nails but also cautious with Dabi’s scars and staples.
Hawks rests his forehead against Dabi’s and hums, eyes closed and arms around the villain's neck.
“What time do you have to be in little birdy?” Hawks grimaces and Dabi knows it’s too soon. He wants the two of them to stay like this, because as longs as he is within Hawks’ arms he is absolved of his crimes. In this haven, they need not worry about the rest of the world.
Hawks sighs, “In around 30, you’ll text me if we have to meet up soon, Blue?”
“Yeah, just get going pretty bird.”
“Mmm, I have a little bit of time left, you got anything to eat around here?”
Dabi plays with Hawks’ hair, trying to recall what exactly he had in his fridge. From what he remembered it was empty, or maybe had a few inedible things in it. Either way, nothing they could eat.
“Nah, I gotta head over to meet with the rest of the League later though, so we can go grab something, as long as you pay of course.”
Hawks snorts, “What am I, your sugar daddy?”
Dabi shrugs, “I mean—” Hawks pulls back with a laugh, hitting the top of Dabi’s head lightly with the palm of his hand.
“Shut up, asshole.”
Hawks slips off of the bed again as Dabi continues to chuckle and puts on his jacket, the feathers reacting to Hawks’ will in a fascinating display of such a mundane task. Dabi finally stops laughing at the hero and gets out of bed, putting on his usual loose-fitting t-shirt, slipping on his pants, and putting on his coat. He grabs a medical mask and uses it to cover the lower half of his face. He can see Hawks from the corner of his eye, watching him with that ridiculous expression on his face again and the parts of his face that aren’t burned to hell and back feel warm. He curses softly, and Hawks laughs at him.
They’re about ready to leave and Hawks grabs his gloves from where they lay on the table, but he hesitates to put them on.
For a minute Dabi thinks that Hawks is going to leave them off, but then the other shakes almost violently and all but shoves his hands into the gloves. Dabi doesn’t mention it, but if he grabs onto Hawks’ arm and gives it a small squeeze of reassurance and grounding, then that’s something no one has to know about.
They get something to eat from a nearby, rundown shop and talk for a little longer before the hero says his goodbyes and heads to his Agency, Dabi watches him fly off into the morning sky.
With every beat of Hawks’ wings and every step of his feet, the sins return and the forgiveness fades, their safe haven crumbles. And as he catches a glimpse of Endeavor on the television, he is reminded that a few nights with an angel does not an atonement make. It only delays the inevitable.
After High-End, the public opinion was that the bastard was doing his job well and becoming a good number one, and it made the fire of his rage burn, wanting nothing more than to destroy the fake hero and his reputation. Endeavor did not get to be someone the people admired, someone who they all thought was safe, when all he had ever been was something terrifying. A monster that his around the corner and under the bed, except the monster had loud footsteps and an even louder voice, with flames that burned and burned and burned, with hands that hit and bruised and hurt, and a tongue made of knives that stabbed you over and over.
The fake of a hero didn’t get to become number one when he had made Natsuo so sure that he was worth nothing, turning the bright eyes and brilliant smiles into anger and defensiveness until the boy who gave hugs and smiles became withdrawn and bitter.
When Fuyumi, who had always been beautiful and vibrant and kind, was made small and timid and left clinging onto any scrap of love she received. Because the great flame hero had no use for the twin without fire, and yet still expected her to become the one who took care of everything in the house when mother Rei was sent away.
When little Shouto, who had only held a big smile and freely laughed for such a short time in his life before he was torn away from his siblings, was left with so little of his childhood. Remembering torture easier than happy memories. Forgetting when the four siblings had baked a cake with their mother, yet remembering the first time his mother took a hit so he wouldn’t have to.
When Rei mother , was driven insane because of how Endeavor treated her. Turning her from a kind, gentle woman who loved her kids with all of her heart, into someone withdrawn and paranoid. Scared and cautious and afraid of her own children, when the child she had always said was more like her was suddenly the child she yelled at the most, was scared of the most, confused with Endeavor the most .
The Todoroki’s all had a hole in their heart, where they should’ve had a loving father, and a happy family.
They had a second one where Touya should’ve fit. The kind little boy who loved his mother and siblings. Who was quiet and kind and wore his heart on his sleeve. The opposite of his twin in every way, before Endeavor turned them into the opposite of who they were, brave and bold Fuyumi became small, and kind and quiet Touya became loud and angry.
Todoroki Enji would not get away with this, no matter how much he insisted he was changing, no matter how many times he pleads for forgiveness.
Why did they have to forgive him, why were they not allowed to be angry, to be sad over what he did?
Endeavor had dug his own grave and now he would lie in it.
( why should touya have to be kind again when that was what Enji had beaten out of him? )
So Dabi would not let himself be drawn into the hero’s orbit.
No, if the angelic hero was trying to save him he would be disappointed. The pull Hawks had over Dabi was countered by the fire of his hatred and it burned hotter and brighter than the hero could hope to survive.
He wouldn’t let the sins of his father go unpunished, they would be revealed and he would die, even if Dabi had to burn himself to the ground to do it.
After all, not even an Angel can save the Devil.