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Hawks’ dual sabers flash brilliantly in the high noon sun, clashing against the improvised weapon of the big, dirty pirate currently trying to take his head off. Muscles strain under his heavy wool Captain’s jacket, but only for a moment. Someone checks Big Dirty in the back of the knee, and Hawks takes advantage of his stagger to bring both sabers up sharply through the brute’s meaty shoulders.
The guy reels back, and then falls with a clang as Lt. Miruko cracks him across the skull with the butt of her sword. She flashes him a feral white smile out of a deeply tanned face, then throws herself back into the fray. Hawks’ answering smile has a touch more steel, but it can’t be helped - this is a confrontation that’s been a long time coming.
Cannons boom as his gunnery men constantly reload and attempt to sink the shit out of the dread ship Cremation. Over the side of the ship, Hawks can see the answering blue flashes of cannon fire from the pirate ship’s distinct chemical gunpowder. His own ship, Fierce Wings, rocks violently in response.
His expression goes tight. Even with the adrenaline high, he can’t afford to lose focus. There’s only one man here who can bring this whole fracas to an end.
Sharp golden eyes scour the men and women fighting across his deck, trying to find that familiar head of black hair, or maybe the glint of gold flashing from the man’s many piercings and staples.
Hell, he’d take the scoundrel’s raspy, kind of sexy voice that always calls him -
“Captain Pretty Bird,” that familiar voice says from behind him. “We really gotta stop meeting this way.”
Hawks turns slowly, knowing that, despite the pirate’s nature, he isn’t going to be stabbed in the back. They have too much fun to end it that way.
“Captain Dabi,” he returns in the same tone of voice, taking in the lean figure currently lounging against the main mast. His white shirt is hanging open, and his dark blue jacket has some very suspicious dark stains. Gold glitters across the man’s scarred body, and Hawks looks him up and down, from his soot black boots to his wild, wind tossed hair. Sweat darkens the blue cloth wrapped around his forehead, but Hawks is sure the pirate appreciates keeping the salt out of his stapled cheeks.
Those same cheeks that are flexing into as much a grin as the pirate can manage, with Caribbean blue eyes sparkling like the sun on the ocean waves.
Ocean waves that had monsters lurking under the surface, of course. Hawks clears his throat noisily, trying to remember that he’s in the midst of a pitched battle.
His hands flex across his saber hilts when Dabi shifts. The pirate is armed with his signature silver-embossed pistol in his left hand, and his red-stained scimitar in his right. Ambidextrous, just like Hawks.
“You know you’re not getting away this time,” Hawks comments casually, one boot stepping to his right, angling to pin the pirate with his back to the mast. Give him no place to run, this time.
Not quite the same as the last time he’d had Dabi pinned somewhere, but those were different times.
“And we both know that’s not true,” Dabi says, shrugging lazily. His pistol is resting against his shoulder, not even remotely at the ready. His scimitar is held loosely in his other hand, but Hawks isn’t fooled by the lackadaisical manner. They’d both been trained to fight, and Dabi knew what to do with a sword.
Not the only sword he knows how to use either, Hawks’ hindbrain reminds him helpfully. The captain shakes his head vigorously.
Your men and women are fighting for their lives right now, he thinks fiercely. Pull yourself together and stop lusting after your old flame!
He levels one of his sabers at Dabi’s sea blue eyes, heart beating a mile a minute. “You’re not going to get what you want. So why don’t you and your crew -”
“Surrender?” Dabi supplies smoothly, finally pushing off the mast with his shoulder. Each thump of his boots sounds loud to Hawks, even over the cacophony of battle. The pirate approaches until Hawks has to lower his sword slightly to avoid actually stabbing the man. The edge of the blade presses lightly under Dabi’s jaw. Almost a caress, instead of a threat.
“Hand him over, birdie, and it won’t have to end badly,” Dabi coaxes, his warm breath ghosting across Hawks’ face. “In fact, I’d be happy to reward you for your services.” Glittering eyes dip down to Hawks’ lips, and the Captain’s ears flush when he sees blue edged out by pupils blown wide.
The abyss was in those eyes, and Hawks… Hawks could easily let himself drown.
“My services,” Hawks says, voice steadier than he would have imagined, “Belong to the Empire. And Lord Todoroki is my charge. I cannot let you take him.”
Please Touya. Let me deliver him to justice the right way.
The pirate takes another step closer, drawing a thin line of blood from Hawks blade. Dabi doesn’t seem to care - his eyes are searching Hawks face.
“I see,” he breathes. “If that’s how it has to be, I suppose we shouldn’t waste anymore time.”
The clang of steel on steel is jarring, but Hawks didn’t make youngest duelist of the century by being slow. He catches Dabi’s heavier scimitar against his saber and angles it away, letting the blades thunk into the deck as he brings up his other saber, fast as lightning.
Dabi practically dances back out of range, raises his pistol over his head, and fires.
Blue flames erupt from the barrel, and the massive lead ball cracks into something solid above them. Hawks risks a glance up and his golden eyes go wide as a sail comes swinging toward his face. He hits the deck to avoid death by 180 kilos of canvas. And by the time he looks up, Dabi is gone.
“Shit,” he hisses, vaulting over the railing to hit the main deck. He ducks under two clumsy attacks, but is waylaid by a third with halfway decent swordsmanship skills. He narrows fierce golden eyes at the pirate across from him.
“You are getting between me and my brig,” he bites out, before disengaging and booting the man hard in the sternum. The ‘oof’, bang and splash of the man cartwheeling over the railing are lost on Hawks as he continues his sprint after Dabi.
He almost slams into the wooden wall in his haste, and clatters down the stairs with zero caution in his panic to reach Dabi before the pirate reaches the brig. It’s this speed that nearly gets him skewered by Dabi’s scimitar.
Instead, the pirate flips his grip at the last second and nails Hawks in the solar plexus with the hilt - completely ejecting the air from his lungs. Hawks is still heaving in oxygen desperately when Dabi fists his other hand in his lapels and shoves him up against the wall.
“Where is he?” Dabi demands in a low, lethal voice. Behind him, the door to the only room in the brig hangs open. Empty.
Hawks wheezes for breath, eyes watering in pain. The slightly strangling hold at his collar not helping in the slightest.
Dabi apparently realizes this, because he drops his grip on Hawks’ coat in favor of gripping his hair - forcing the captain to meet his furious gaze.
“They knew,” Hawks coughs out, heart hammering violently against his ribs. “They knew you’d follow me instead.” He sees Dabi blink, comprehension dawning.
“You were bait,” the pirate snarls, releasing Hawks’ hair with a shove that sends the captain’s head cracking against the wood. Dabi spins away, shoulders bunched in anger. Like a storm, about to break.
Hawks isn’t sure if the pirate might not murder him for this, so he figures he might as well be honest.
“It was that,” he confesses hoarsely into the tense air, “Or let them set their beast on you.”
Dabi’s breath hitches in the unnatural quiet.
“That’s…” the pirate trails off. The flickering lantern is the only light to go by, but Hawks can still see when Dabi’s ring encrusted fingers clench like iron around the hilt of his scimitar.
“Illegal?” Hawks supplies, finally pushing away from the bulkhead. Both sabers now hang unthreatening in his grip. “Yes, it is. So is piracy, by the way.”
Said pirate lets out a strangled laugh. “And here you are, the hero - preventing both at the same time. You must feel so proud of yourself.”
Dabi still hasn’t turned around to look at him, and Hawks swallows painfully. His sternum aches, but not from the blow Dabi had landed on him. Abruptly, he makes his decision.
The sound of swords being sheathed makes Dabi glance back at him, and Hawks catches that ocean blue gaze and holds it for all he’s worth.
“I didn’t do it to stop you,” he says, stepping forward into Dabi’s space. He sees the pirate’s jaw flex under scarred skin. “I did it to stop them. ”
He’s not sure when he reached up to cup the scarred cheek of the man he once loved, but suddenly he can feel the rough texture of scars and the bumps of warm gold under his palm. His fingers thread into soft hair at the base of Dabi’s neck and brush against the tails of his silk bandana. Hawks loops a finger around the end and gives it an almost playful tug.
“Can’t believe you kept this old rag,” he murmurs, watching the pirate’s head tilt back, unresisting.
“Only thing you left behind,” Dabi mutters right back, raspy voice carrying in the odd silence.
...Odd… Silence…
Dabi seems to realize something is wrong at the exact same time as Hawks, and their wide eyes meet in immediate alarm. No sounds of fighting, no booms of cannons. Even the constant lap of waves against the hull is suddenly muted.
Until a sound not unlike a thousand whales breaching suddenly crashes through the air, and the ship bucks alarmingly. Hawks feels Dabi’s hand grab him by the arm, and then suddenly they’re both staggering toward the door.
They make the deck just in time to see massive tentacles breach the ocean surface, sending tons of water splattering violently across the decks. In the distance, Hawks spies most of both of the crews crawling up the side of the Cremation. Hawks and Dabi exchange one intense look of fear and understanding before they both sprint for the railing.
Around them, wood creaks and snaps, sails rip in two, and ropes pop like twine as massive grey arms grasp and fumble for prey the monster cannot see. Hawks spies a cannon, weighing at least two and a half tons, snapped in half like a twig.
They’re almost to the port side railing when a monstrous limb crashes down directly in front of them, sending a spray of water and splinters like shrapnel out in all directions. At his side, Hawks feels Dabi jolt and grunt in pain, then feels the fingers gripping his sleeve go slack. Fear hammers at Hawks’ throat, watching the pirate’s white shirt stain red low on the abdomen.
Nostrils flaring in panic, Hawks hooks one hand around Dabi’s waist and yanks the pirate’s limp arm over his shoulder, stumbling back from the writhing mass of muscle and mythological horror.
Hawks is fast on his feet, and always has been. Fast with his mouth too, if Dabi is to be believed. But it doesn’t help him much when he has a drenched, leaden pirate leaning heavily against him while a literal behemoth tries to take his ship apart board by board.
Teeth gritted against the strain, Hawks forces his way over fallen barrels, destroyed sails, and ropes that catch at his boots. All the while, the Commission’s beast roars and the Fierce Wings flutters in her final attempts to stay aloft. A massive boom sounds somewhere aft of his ship, and Hawks staggers from the heat and the noise of the beast screaming. It happens again, and a flash of blue catches his eye.
The Cremation was firing on the monster, trying to give her captain time to escape.
Hawks’ grin is tight and satisfied. It looked like Dabi hadn’t lost his ability to inspire loyalty.
But, after he risks a glance down, he can tell that the pirate was losing a lot of blood. Hawks redoubles his efforts, finally making it to the starboard railing. It’s on the opposite side from the Cremation but Hawks doesn’t fancy his odds of making it back through the massive, thrashing limbs currently buckling his main deck.
Dabi leans heavily against him, warm and soaking wet. His breath is harsh against the top of Hawks’ head as the captain struggles to get them both up and over the rail.
Lips, contrasting in texture and a little bit inelegant, press into Hawks’ temple.
“Thanks, pretty bird,” the pirate whispers. Hawks’ heart stumbles over itself in alarm.
“Don’t go dying on me just yet,” he orders, unintentionally slipping back into his ‘captain’ voice.
Dabi huffs, pained eyes peeking open in amusement, “Aye, aye, sir.”
The ship bucks again, and Dabi tightens his arm across Hawks’ shoulder. Hawks braces as best he can, and then they jump.
----
The joint crews hauled them out of the water barely five minutes later, the beast having retreated when Miruko nailed it in the eye with one of the cannon shots. To Hawks, though, it might as well have been a lifetime. Treading water fully clothed was hard enough - but keeping both he and Dabi afloat had been damn near impossible.
Damn near. But Hawks was used to accomplishing the impossible, he supposed.
Which is how he found himself in Dabi’s cabin later that evening, trying to get the pirate captain to eat some of the rice that their new cook, Taishirou, had managed to salvage.
It still surprised the captain, that the two crews had been able to come together after such a pitched battle. But from what he heard in the galley while going to get rice, the pirates were desperately trying to recruit Miruko into their ranks. Supposedly for her ability to snipe a mythical beast with a cannon, but Hawks wasn’t fooled. He tells Dabi as much when the pirate asks after his crew.
“It’s probably because I told them to go easy on your people,” Dabi admits, more truthfully than he likely intended if the wrinkle in his nose afterwards is anything to go by. A half bottle of rum to dampen the pain of surgery would do that to a person. Hawks just grins at him tiredly.
“Showing favoritism, Dabi? I’m flattered.”
The pirate is silent for a moment, staring up at him from his bunk. Bandages wrap around his waist, and the doctor had tossed his shirt away as a lost cause. Hawks isn’t sure what else she might have gotten rid of under the blankets, but she’d decided to leave the thin strip of blue silk wrapped around Dabi’s forehead. It’s a constant reminder to him that Dabi… that Dabi was showing far more than favoritism.
Hawks meets the pirate’s thoughtful gaze with a soft, exhausted smile, and reaches out to take hold of the hand Dabi had left lying across his chest. On the sideboard, the little bowl of rice sits forgotten.
“Didn’t think we were going to make it out of this one today,” the captain admits quietly, playing with Dabi’s sea-roughened fingers. The golden staples across his palms and the back of his hand are warm to the touch. The skin around them, though, is slightly inflamed. Hawks' brows furrow in consternation.
“It’s the salt,” Dabi murmurs, answering his unspoken question. “Gold doesn’t rust, but the fasteners do.” Hawks' jaw flexes, and once more he fights back the anger at Lord Todoroki for what he’d done to his son. The only redeeming factor now is that the man will face his justice, one way or another. Lord Yagi had assured Hawks of that much, before he set off on this one final mission.
He lifts Dabi’s hand slightly to get a closer look at the damage, and can’t resist the urge to place a light kiss on the seam between rough and smooth skin. He can feel Dabi’s breath catch at the gesture.
“What can I do?” Hawks asks, meaning the staples. But when he looks into Dabi’s wide, searching eyes, the question takes on another meaning. He smiles.
“I guess,” he says slowly, “I should ask: what can we do?” Dabi’s throat flexes when he swallows.
“I’m not going back with you,” he says, finality like a death knell in his tone. Hawks rubs the pad of his thumb across Dabi’s scarred knuckles.
“I’m not going to make you,” he agrees. Dabi’s hand flexes in his own.
“My father -?”
“Is being dealt with by the highest authority in the land,” Hawks assures. “I made that my final demand, before I left.”
Golden eyes meet stunned blue, then Dabi is surging upright in his bed, injuries be damned. Hawks feels fierce fingers curl through his hair and then Dabi’s lips are on his.
He inhales sharply, surprise and longing hitting him like a hammer on an anvil, and then he’s pushing back into Dabi, sucking hard on his scarred lower lip, his eyebrows furrowed together in both pain and pleasure.
Dabi groans into his mouth, thumb stroking across Hawks’ cheek like he’s desperately trying to map his face. Then he groans again, and Hawks knows the sound well enough, damn him, to know this is a sound of pain.
“You idiot,” he mutters under his breath, pulling away from the pirate. Dabi stays stubbornly upright, blue eyes nearly black with desire. The look he gives Hawks is hotter than any kind of cremation, and the captain wars with himself over the potential harm he might cause the pirate and the potential harm Dabi might cause in general if they let this continue.
The choice is taken out of his hands when someone bangs heartily on the pirate captain’s door.
“Sirs! There’s snail racing going on out here! It could get pretty tame if you don’t intervene!”
Hawks blinks in surprise, nose still inches from Dabi’s and sees the moment the pirate’s expression go flat with exasperation.
“Jin!” The pirate roars, actually startling Hawks with the volume at such close range. He chokes on a laugh at both himself and at Dabi’s absolutely rankled face. “So help me if you bother me for the next twelve hours I will use your innards for spare ropes!!”
There’s a squeak from the other side of the door, and Hawks stops laughing long enough to call out, “Get Lt. Miruko to help keep everyone in line! I’m sure you’ll be fine!”
“Sirs, yes sirs!” The voice of the sailor, Jin, calls back. Hawks cocks an eyebrow at Dabi.
“Snail racing?” He asks, not even bothering to stop his grin. Dabi snorts, pressing his hand to his bandaged side.
“A pirate’s life isn’t all looting and having fun,” he returns haughtily. “We get bored too.”
Hawks makes a ‘hmm-ing’ noise, and plants one hand against Dabi’s shoulder, firmly pushing him back into his bed. The pirate almost protests, until Hawks kicks his boots off. Then he smirks, ocean eyes glittering unfairly in the dim cabin lighting.
“A pirate’s life, huh?” Hawks says, swinging one knee over Dabi’s hips, careful of the bandages that dipped below the blankets. Nothing too rowdy, then - not this time. His elbows go to either side of Dabi’s wild black hair, framing his scarred face. Hawks grins down at him, then dips his head low, planting kisses that start at the pirate’s collarbone and make their way up.
He’s just reached the shell of Dabi’s scarred ear when he continues the thought. “A pirate’s life for me, then.” Dabi breathes out, and Hawks feels some serious pride at how shaky the pirate sounds. But then the tables turn when Dabi catches his lips with his own.
“A pirate’s life,” Dabi promises, “for you.”