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a nest between your ribs

Summary:

And that’s that. A deal, not unusual in their relationship, the weird part is that it’s a good one.

or:
Hawks can't sleep. He makes it Dabi's problem.

Notes:

god i wrote this in like two sittings so it's Not Edited, forgive all the mistakes this probably has. I promise I'll come back to fix them, but like i have class at 9am tomorrow.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Dabi knows a thing or two about exhaustion.

Sleep is a privilege, one of the many he hasn’t had access to. At home the screaming was too loud, the hospital was too quiet, the streets too uncomfortable. The leagues bar was okay, but only cause he had gone through all the other places before. It was dry, quiet and once he got over being surrounded by murderers who tried to kill him when they first met (and who he tried to kill right back) sleeping there was simply okay. Shigaraki didn’t trust them to do shit for him in the first few weeks, it’s probably the most Dabis ever napped.

But then Kamino happened and it was right back to the streets, except worse, because then he had stick with the league and somehow avoid the heroes, until he realized Shigaraki was too scattered from losing everything to really care about Dabi fucking off to do his thing. So he did.

The new hideout could be called an improvement, but just barely. There’s no peace to be had with the league anymore, not even when they’re not killing anyone. He’d rather nap in the dumpsters again, thank you very much.

Dabi knows quite a lot about exhaustion, actually.

Which is why he notices it so well in the feathered asshole. Not because he’s observing him, he just pays attention. To everyone, in general.

It’s been a while since he met Hawks, months that feel like much longer. He’s certainly brought him years worth of trouble. And he’s always looked tired, the kind of tired that won’t leave you, the kind you carry. It was one of the reasons Dabi didn’t call his bluff. A very small part of him considered that maybe Hawks really was just tired, tired enough to send all the other heroes up in smoke.

But now he looks like fucking Atlas, with the world bearing down those ridiculous wings of his, and it’s fucking annoying.

It started subtly, the zoning out, the forgetfulness, the way he seemed to knock things with his wings. Then it got worse, the tripping, slowed reaction time, that time he snapped at Shigaraki and Dabi had to remind him he would respect his allies wishes, and Dabi was still very much Shigaraki’s ally and he very much wished for Hawks to remain alive. That one was particularly fun, since Hawks got it in his head that Dabi wouldn’t let him die.

He’s watched him. Of course he has, he had to keep tabs on him. And the freak never. Fucking. Stops. The morning news has him stopping an armed assault in the morning, two more incidents before it's even noon, around lunch time he’s saved three people (on average) from tragic demise, by the time it’s even evening he’s had more arrests than most sidekicks get in their careers.

Then he’s with Dabi most of the night, fucking around with whatever Shigaraki wants done. Or what Dabi needs next in his patricide to-do list. Sometimes they just go for dinner, just cause they both hadn’t eaten and it was convenient. It varies.

It’s easy to understand why he’s nodding off in the middle of a stakeout. But Dabi can’t help being annoyed, if he doesn’t get to nap in the most boring job ever, then neither does Hawks.

He digs his elbow into Hawks ribs sharply and he wakes up in a blur of feathers and what sounds like squawking.

“Yeah! what?! Is it time?” He says, sitting up suddenly, his wings smack at Dabi’s back.

Dabi pushes them off with a grunt. “No, but if it was we would be fucked since you’re passing out.”

“I’m…” Hawks starts to argue. Then he closes his mouth and looks away.

Dabi rolls his eyes at him. Hawks drags a hand across his face, he looks so tired it’s no longer funny.

“You’re no use to me like this,” Dabi tells him as he gets up from the floor.

“What are you doing?” Hawks asks after a moment where he watches Dabi walk away.

“Leaving, this is a two person job and you’re not even half of one at this point,” Dabi replies. “Go home.”

“We're already here.” Hawks has gotten up as is catching up with Dabi as he heads to the staircase. “We need this done.”

“We’re not gonna do shit in your condition,” Dabi huffs.

Hawks sighs, giving up far too quickly and falling into step behind him. He really must be exhausted.

They’ve reached the street now and he turns to Hawks, eager to see him leave.

He will never admit it, but he really likes watching Hawks fly. He’s never seen such freedom. He’s a little envious and a lot resentful, if he can just go, why would he stick around this hell of heroes and villains. Fucking dumbass. (But he knows he would hate him for leaving, too.)

“Hm,” Hawks hums when he’s a few meters up in the air. Dabi frowns, something's off. “Yeah, no.” Hawks mutters.

Dabi lunges forward, and immediately regrets it. They both collapse hard on the pavement, fuck he’s so damn heavy. Weren’t birds supposed to be light?

“Get off,” Dabi wheezes. “Can’t breathe.” He would push him but he’s lost all ability to move as he tries to get some air back into his lungs. Hawks scrambles to his knees.

“Why did you do that?!” He asks, kneeling over Dabi. He’s patting him down as if to search for injuries. His hands are too warm.

Dabi doesn’t reply, cause frankly, he doesn’t know the reason either. Hawks was falling and Dabi’s body didn’t consult with him first before trying to catch him.

“What the fuck was that?” Dabi asks right back. “Seriously, when was the last time you slept?”

“What day is it today?”

“Fuck’s sake.” They’ve gotten up now, but Dabi’s back hurts more than a little and one of Hawks’ wings is bent awkwardly.

At least the bastard has the decency to look embarrassed. He looks at his hands as he counts with his fingers. “Three days, give or take.”

Dabi is not concerned, the twinge in his chest is probably just pity. Seriously, who would want to be a hero.

He considers his options. He knows that Hawks apartment is more than just a few stops train away (but he can’t say that, Hawks is not aware Dabi knows where he lives and he wants to keep that way), not that taking the train would be an option either. No matter how late, security cameras sleep less than both of them. The leagues hideout is even further out, they would have to actually leave the city. And Dabi isn’t precisely willing to let them see how run down Hawks is.

Good ol’ fashioned squatting it is.

At least they’re in the industrial complex, he’s got a place or two all around the city. He doesn’t explain where they’re going, Hawks follows him anyways.

Blessed be development companies who bankrupt mid construction. The condos were meant to house the workers from the factories around, but no one considered that maybe people wouldn’t want to live next to places that breathed out toxic smoke into the air. Shocker. Luckily, Dabis lungs are used to it.

“Cozy,” Hawks says.

“Thanks, I just redecorated.” The vast space of the place makes Dabi’s voice echo.

He’s got the pseudo-bed on the first floor, the roof on the second leaks.

Hawks is tired enough to unceremoniously drop on the floor like the useless pile of feathers he is. Dabi rolls his eyes.

When he notices that his breathing has deepened it hits him. Hawks is asleep, and he’s trusting he will wake up again. Dabi guesses they’re past murdering each other by now, but Hawks is being vulnerable enough to sleep with his back to him.

He’s not sure how he feels about that. It’s too much, too much of what, he doesn’t know right now. All he knows is that he’s the one not sleeping now. Maybe Hawks is just tired, too tired to consider where or with whom he is.

He sleeps on his side, one wing almost fully stretched out behind him while the other drapes over the rest of him, leaving only his eyes visible, his knees drawn up to his chest. He immediately looks better, younger.

Dabi pulls an old crate next to the bed, and he sits down next to him and leans back against the wall.

It’s not peace, exactly, that’s another privilege neither of them have. But it’s quiet.

Dabi closes his eyes.

He’s half awake by the time he registers the sound of Hawks coming back to life.

Dabi watches him, (it’s all he seems to do), and it’s a painful process.

Hawks fights it in an almost admirable way. When the light pours in, his right wing drags up to cover his face, and when that doesn’t work the other one spreads out to block the sun behind him. He curls up further with a groan, but the place didn’t exactly come fully furnished and the lack of curtains is jarring.

Then he places an arm across his eyes. Dabi’s pretty sure he can’t really breathe like that since he drops it not even fifteen seconds later.

He groans again, more drawn out this time. Damn, poor bastard.

Dabi pulls at one of the longer feathers. Quickly retreating his hand as the whole wing turns sharp and Hawks calls it back towards his body out of reflex.

“Rise and shine,” Dabi mocks.

The feathers covering his face part to reveal an ice cold glare. Dabi smiles.

He gets up from his shitty napping spot, his legs are kinda numb and his neck cries out, but he won’t let Hawks see him complain.

Hawks takes a few more seconds before accepting that the sun won't go back down. He sits up slowly, looking like he’s finally processing the situation he’s in.

Hawks gives Dabi a long look, one he's not sure what to make of this early in the morning, so he just holds it until Hawks looks away.

His wings snap like the bones might be breaking as he stretches, they both wince at the sound.

“...time’s it?” Hawks asks, his voice is way deeper than Dabi was expecting, rougher too.

“Dabi?” He calls when Dabi doesn’t reply. Dabi didn’t need to hear his name in that voice.

“Seven twelve,” Dabi replies after checking his phone.

Hawks freezes. “Huh.”

“What?”

“I can’t remember the last time I slept more than five hours,” He shrugs, and gets up.

“That’s just sad,” Dabi says.

“At least I sleep them in an actual bed,”

“Sorry for the less than optimal room, next time I’ll break you into a five star hotel,” Dabi huffs.

Hawks pauses. “Next time?”

Ah, fuck. Fall back.

“Well unless you start sleeping like an actual person, I guess you can crash with me when you get this bad.” What the fuck happened to falling back, why is his mouth acting on it’s own.

Hawks gives him a small smile, less showy than his usual ones. Fuck, and Dabi thought the sunlight was annoyingly bright.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

And the fucker does.

Except he doesn’t even let him know. Dabi has to find out the hard way that Hawks somehow got into the base while he wasn’t around, broke into his room, and is now sleeping on his bed.

By the hard way he means that he just got back from a job, tired, burning and fed the fuck up. Ready to blissfully pass out after downing an unnecessary amount of painkillers, shrugging off his coat and kicking off his boots. But when he threw himself on top of his bed he didn’t land on his fucking bed.

“Mpfff!” The thing under him exclaims.

“The hell!” Dabi replies,jumping and rolling off the bed on instinct, landing flat on his back, almost knocking the air out of himself with the move. He’s slightly smoldering out of reflex, a fact he registers as he hits the floor, his skin sparkles against the concrete.

“Ow,” The familiar voice mutters, sounding almost as pained as Dabi feels.

“What the fuck,” Dabi says, getting up so fast his head swims and his vision fills with spots. Still mildly panicked, he calls fire to his plan so he can see better.

Hawks, buried underneath Dabi’s sheets, wrapped around one of his pillows with the other one still resting over his head, glares at him from the bed. He has the audacity to look completely pissed, as if Dabi’s the one trying to sleep on his bed.

It takes him a couple of seconds to process the scene in front of him. During which Hawks doesn’t stop trying to kill him with a golden and sleep heavy look.

“What-” Dabi starts, pausing for effect and genuine confusion. “-The fuck. Are you. Doing?”

Hawks frown deepens even more. “What does it look like?”

What is wrong with him. What is wrong with Dabi for not killing him on the spot. He stares at him in genuine exasperation and disbelief, not really knowing what else to do.

“You’re in my bed,” Dabi points out stupidly.

“Yeah?” Hawks answers. Finally pushing off the pillows and the sheets, sitting up. He’s wearing the body suit that’s under his hero costume. And Dabi’s sweatpants.

“...Why?!” Dabi asks, the fire flares. Which reminds him to put it out, fuck, he’s indoors. Fuck, he’s in his room.

He turns away before Hawks replies, kicking at the clothes on his floor to discharge his annoyance (and nervousness), as he opens a path to the back wall where the light switch is placed.

As the bulb flickers to life Hawks groans, throwing his wings out to shield his face, drawing some of Dabi’s sheets up as they get hooked on the end of his feathers. Dabi rolls his eyes, picking his coat up from the floor and putting it on rushedly.

He walks back towards the bed. Violently pulling the sheets off Hawks.

“Hey,” he says weakly from behind his feathers. “It’s freezing in your room.”

“Hawks,” Dabi threatens.

The wings come down. His shoulders lowering, too. He tilts his head to the side and closes his eyes tiredly. “What?”

Dabi scoffs. “The hell are you doing in my bed. How did you even get in?”

“Twice let me in.” Hawks shrugs. “And I already told you, what does it look like.”

“Fucking Twice,” Dabi mutters.

“Hey, man. You said I could crash with you.” Hawks drags a hand over his face, then stretch. The full lenght of his Wingspan doesn’t fit in Dabi’s room, the edges of the longest feathers bend against the walls and the ceiling.

Fuck, Dabi did say that. “Not in my fucking room.”

“Then where?” Hawks asks, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed.

“I don’t know, just- not in my bed,” Dabi stutters.

Hawks pauses. “Ah.” He bends down, snatching up a pair of shoes from the ground that are not Dabi’s.

“I texted you, to see if you were around,” he explains. Finally up.

“I couldn’t check my phone,” Dabi excuses. Why is he the one excusing himself.

“Maybe I-” Hawks shakes his head. “Sorry, look, they get off my back when they know I’m with you and the league.”

It’s not until he grabs his aviator jacket that Dabi realizes he’s leaving.

“How long has it been,” Dabi asks. “Since you slept?”

Hawks half smiles half grimances. “Uh, about four days?”

Dabi sighs tiredly. “C’mon, man.”

Hawks hooks his hands on the back of his neck. “Hm.”

Dabi hates him. “Whatever, just make the damn bed when you leave.”

Hawks blinks. “Wait wh-”

Dabi slams the door behind him, not letting him finish.

-

The next night, he can’t sleep once more. The bed smells like him.

-

They have come to an agreement.

It seems like Hawks grew some self awareness after finally sleeping, cause the next day he texted Dabi. ‘My bad, let me make it up to you.’ And an address. Which Dabi already knew, since it leads to Hawks’ apartment. Where he was waiting with too much take out.

A part of him is pretty sure it’s poisoned, but he can’t get the rest of himself to care. At some point his mind registers that this is Hawks’ way to even their situation. ‘Here, you know where I sleep, too.’

“The way I see it,” Hawks says between mouthfuls of fried rice. “I would like to sleep a little more, and it seems like you could eat a little more.”

Dabi pauses, his chopsticks midway to his mouth. Rude. Not that he’s wrong.
“A bed for breakfast?” Hawks jokes lamely.

Dabi won’t give him the satisfaction of a laugh. “Only if you don’t make it.”

And that’s that. A deal, not unusual in their relationship, the weird part is that it’s a good one.

So Hawks starts crashing with Dabi. And Dabi starts getting sick of washing his sheets all the time. But at least he starts looking better, not that he slows down. Not that Dabi cares.

He starts feeling better, too. Which is...unusual. He can’t remember a time when he didn’t feel drained and sick. He’s not what anyone would call “physically okay”, it’s practically impossible for him to be at this point. But he’s eating more than once a day.

The league is grateful, and he’s got owed favors to last him years. He could never finish all the food Hawks buys, since he eats like a literal animal, (“It’s my calorie intake, fuck off.”) So he brings leftovers quite often.

“Thank him,” Compress tells Toga and Twice one day.

“He’s not paying?” Toga asks cause she forgot all manners she ever had and she’s not technically wrong.

“No,” Spinner replies. “But he’s pimping himself out and you won’t even appreciate it.”

Dabi bans him from having takeout for a whole month.

-

The only days Dabi regrets it is when his and Hawks’ shutdowns coincide.

Those days he needs his shitty bed the most, and it’s been once or twice that he’s already found a passed out hero in it first. Dabi still has the couch downstairs, but in his tired state it annoyes him more than usual.

One of those times Hawks wakes up as he’s leaving.

“Dabi?” He calls, voice heavy and surprisingly high.

“Hm.” Dabi lets him know it’s him. “I didn’t know you were here. Go back to sleep.”

“What time is it?” Hawks asks.

“Four something.”

“Were you going to sleep?” Hawks rises slowly, leaning his weight into his elbow.

“In a while,” Dabi lies.

“I’m taking your bed,” Hawks states anyway. “Sorry.”

“I’m not that tired.” Dabi shrugs.

“You’re a shitty liar,” Hawks replies. He turns his back on him, shedding his wings in a flash. “Your mattress is even shittier, but it’s big enough.” He flops down gracelessly on the left side of the bed.

“I’ll sleep later,” Dabi insists, turning to leave.

“Don’t be stubborn, I don’t even snore.” A feather flashes into his vision, and suddenly it’s tugging at his sleeve with surprising force. “I’m not gonna steal your bed when you’re the reason I’m even sleeping like a normal person now.”

Dabi stumbles onto his bed, Hawks doesn’t even flinch.

“I have an alarm set up at five thirty, sorry in advance.” More feathers drag the sheets over them.

Hawks breathing slows in minutes, while Dabi’s heart only races.

He can’t get up without waking him, so he lies completely still as the seconds tick by. It’s fine, it's only like one hour. This is fine.

He risks a look at his left.

Hawks golden eyelashes stand out even more when he has his eyes closed, the contrast with the markings around his eyes is striking. He looks ridiculously young, his face squished against the arm he’s thrown over one of Dabi’s pillows. With a jolt, Dabi realizes that he’s got scattered freckles over his cheekbones. He’s also got very faint tan lines in the shape of his wideass visor.

Dabi shouldn’t know these details, he saves them away in his mind anyways. As he’s committing the scene to memory he doesn’t realize when his vision begins to darken.

Hawks alarm blares what feels like seconds afterwards. Dabi opens his eyes slowly, a phone zips past his vision, carried by a red feather. Hawks stretches out blindly and silences it. He sits up slowly.

Dabi fake sleeps as Hawks goes around his room, getting his suit on and calling his feathers back. He pauses, making Dabi think he’s about to leave. He suppresses the urge to jump as warm fingers brush against his jaw.

Hawks drags a thumb over Dabi’s cheekbone, the touch impossibly delicate. More feathers straighten out the sheets, covering him properly. Then he feels one tangle into his hair. He hears Hawks sigh softly. The doorknob clicks shut.

Dabi can’t sleep after that.

-

Their deal changes unspokenly.

They are sleeping together. And not even in the fun way. That, Dabi could brush off. It’s not a regular thing, but if they both can’t go on at the same time Dabi stops sleeping on the couch.

He dreads it. He carves it more than anything.

He can’t have Hawks like this, not this kind of trust. And yet, he won’t let it go. The warmth on his sheets, the rhythm of his breathing. The way he can just completely fall asleep, not even waking up once.

One day, he wakes up to sunlight and golden eyes.

“Why did you let me stay?” Hawks whispers with his morning voice. One Dabi has grown fond of hearing.

“Why do you keep coming back?” Dabi replies.

“Dabi,” Hawks says. It sounds like a plea.

“Hawks,” Dabi echoes.

It’s a morning slow, warm, sleep filled kiss. And Dabi could drown in it.

Hawks closes his wings around them. Painting the light reddish, sealing them away from the world. He holds him so carefully, above him but not crushing him. Dabi clings to him, wrapping his arms around his back and pulling him closer and yet not close enough. His lips are soft, too soft for him.

His alarm goes off what feels like an eternity after.

“Sleep in today,” Dabi instructs.

Hawks laughs, birdsong sweet, burying his face in Dabi’s chest.

Notes:

This doesn't make sense but do i care? no.

So fucking excited for dbhwks week, i hope i can do more between homework. These two are my life. Let's see how well this ship ages y'all.

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