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He wondered what he was doing here, one of these cliche red cups in his burned hands. He wondered why he accepted to come tonight, except to quench his thirst for cheap alcohol and spend the night mocking everyone's badly stitched costumes. Dabi didn't try to impress anyone with his, hell— his whole body was a stitched mess au naturel — no need for one of these dreaded Halloween costumes. It was the party of a friend of a friend, there was no one he knew personally, so he decided to come wearing his usual dark jeans, matching black leather jacket and grunge sweat-shirt with big ass holes in it. Some would ask if he was cold with the free-nips look — others would stay quiet and respectful of his privacy.
Dabi has been in this corner for half-an-hour, his cup half-full of a weird mix of tequila and other shits he didn't want to know about. And in this half-an-hour, he already had three people coming to him to compliment his "burned victim costume" and his "good-looking burns make-up". He kindly thanked them with a "fuck off this is my real face" before sipping on his warm tequila-other cocktail. To say, Dabi was getting used to strangers coming to him so say some shit, so he only raised a dark eyebrow watching something looking like a blonde fireman coming his way asking,
"Are you the burned victim?
— What does it look like?
— Like you've been in hellfire, but don't worry even if the flame is out you're still smoking hot."
The stranger winked, his thumbs flirting with his chunky bell, his red pants nearly falling from his hips as baggy as they were. As he opened his mouth to continue to flirt — or spew shit according to Dabi, a tall white-haired bunny woman came to them, her arm against the shoulders of the blonde,
— "I see you've found your wayward boyfriend. I love the dark humour in your couple costume !"
Before they could say anything, she was already hopping to another gathering of college students trying their best at beer pong — and utterly failing. The stranger kept closing and opening his mouth like a goldfish and even Dabi could admit to himself he was lost for words. What in the world — why would people think the blonde jock was his boyfriend, how could they think he would lower himself to date someone with the questionable taste to come to a costume party as a fireman.
— "Drinks ?"
Dabi finally asked, sipping loudly and showing the multiple bottles of alcohol on a table nearby.
"How can you be so calm?
— Force of habit," he shrugged.
As it was an everyday occurrence for Dabi to be mistaken as in a relationship because of ill-advised matching Halloween costumes. Shaking his head, the stranger walked by to pour himself a drink — a rum-cola the heathen — before leaning against the wall next to him.
"Soo ... I only came to see for myself the quote, 'amazing burned victim costume', how did I get a boyfriend on the way?
— Not your boyfriend.
— That's not what the rest of the party seems to think.
— Let them be idiots."
Dabi sneered, his voice cold and his eyes burning blue. The blonde only hummed,
"Well ... I for one wouldn't mind it.
— You don't even know my name.
— What's your name?"
Dabi huffed but smiled, amused, his lips hidden by the edge of his cup, before answering,
"Dabi.
— Nice to meet you, I'm Hawks.
— Hawks? For real?
— That's what my friends call me.
— Do I look like your friend?
— Nope, not really. And I hope we won't stay friends for long."
Hawks gave him another wink, his handsome features dwarfed by the big silly fireman hat that kept on sliding off his hair. The pick-up line was ridiculous and yet Dabi smiled once again, more than he smiled for the whole party. Maybe it was the tequila-other mix speaking or the truly stupid situation they were in: who in their right mind would come as a fireman and a burned victim at a party? It wasn't romantic, it was even disrespectful as shit, especially for him who didn't wear any make-up tonight. He owned his burned marks like proud beacons of survival instead of the shameful scars others would think of. But, in the privacy of his head, Dabi could argue that he was a bit peeved that everyone thought of his face as a Halloween costume instead of ... just his face. Maybe that's what pushed him to mumble,
"I'm not wearing any make-up.
— Sorry?
— The burns are real you dipshit."
The blonde stranger blinked then his eyes focused on Dabi's face, his pupils two slits against a burning amber — talk about freaky eyes.
"Oh shit, you're right!"
Dabi rolled his eyes, putting a hand on his hip,
"Of course I'm right, we're talking about my face. You know ... the thing I see every-time I look into a mirror?"
Hawks wrung out his hands, biting his lips, a tremor shaking his shoulders before laughing out loud. Dabi blinked, taken apart by this reaction. Everyone would excuse themselves, loudly and full of fear, annoying the shit out of Dabi. It was his face, his burns, and he was used to it if only people would stop focusing on it, as it defined him. Dabi shook his head, focusing once again on the shabby fireman in front of him,
"Something funny?
— Yeah, sorry. It's just you looked exactly like Snape for a moment."
— Snape ?"
Dabi asked, raising a thin eyebrow and making Hawks giggle uncontrollably.
"Yes, exactly like that. Next, you'll call me–
— Potter?"
Hawks sputtered, his face joyous and his laugh attracting more than one pair of eyes around the room. Some quickly averted their eyes, mindful of disturbing the couple in the corners. Others leered, hopefully only appealed by the dreadful fireman excuse of a costume of Hawks. Dabi chuckled lowly to the joke, the alcohol loosening his control — or maybe, he enjoyed the company.
"So mister fireman–
— Hawks!
— I won't call you by this stupid nickname.
— It's not a nickname!"
The blonde shuffled around his pockets, looking for something before pulling out proudly his driver licence,
"See! It's my official name!"
Dabi took out the driver licence, his eyes reading the finer script and his eyebrow, once again, rose.
"You're right.
— Ah-ah! Of course, I'm right. We're talking about my name."
Hawks told him, mockingly, imitating the rough tone of Dabi's voice.
"Ha-ha-ha, very funny. Keigo."
Dabi' smile was sharper than a shark's teeth, pulling on his burns and the piercings littering his face. Hawks flapped uselessly his hands to get back his driver licence, his laughter gone and a frown on his face. Dabi played with the little card like a cat with a mouse, pulling it in front of his face and reading out-loud,
"It says here Keigo 'Hawks' Takami"
Like a puppet with its strings cut, Hawks sighed, pushing a hand through his hair before he remembered that he had a fireman hat on top of his head, knocking it on the ground. Dabi hummed, surprised and said, under his breath,
"Much better.
— Alright you won I– What did you say?
— Hmmm?
— Don't play that game mister, you finally realized how handsome I am!"
Hawks crooned, his chest puffed, combing his hair backwards like a proud peacock.
"And how modest as well," Dabi jeered before downing his cup.
Before either of them could continue their flirt-banter — and what else could it be at this point, a green-ish Frankenstein's monster hailed them,
"Oy lovebirds, would one of you pour me some vodka? You're hogging the alcohol corner and no one really wants to interrupt you!"
His tone of voice changed mid-sentence and he mumbled something to himself. Hearing the word 'lovebird', Dabi got his feathers ruffled — metaphorically, there're no human-birds mutants at this party, thank you very much. As he started to open his mouth to correct the interloper, Hawks nicked the bud in the mud,
"Yes darling, pour the poor sad some vodka."
Dabi sneered before taking the empty cup from the slack hands of this cheap excuse of a monster, expertly juggling the different alcohol bottles.
"Here's your fix, now kindly fuck off.
— Sir, yes sir!"
The Frankenstein's monster saluted them with a big smile, insulting them in the next for how slow they were. Dabi shook his head as his attention went to Hawks once again,
"Are we doing pet names now?
— Isn't it funny how everyone assumes we are together because of costumes at a *costume* party? As if total strangers couldn't decide to come as ... I don't know Luigi and Princess Peach by chance!
— It's Mario and Peach you uncultured swine.
— You would look ridiculous as Princess Peach.
— How did your mind get there? "
Hawks only shrugged, smiling sheepishly, pushing his hands in the pockets of his red trousers. To emphasize the situation, he would have sipped on his cup of cheap rum and coke, but as the party continued on, he was emptier than his bank account.
"That's for me to know and you to find out.
— The mysterious type of guy is not working for your whole aesthetic, you know.
— Riiight, and you rock that type of aesthetic, mister hot topic?
— Are you trying to flirt with me or to insult me?"
Dabi snarked, ignoring the healthy flush his cheeks gained when Hawks winked — full-on wink emoji face — at him. For once he thanked the gods that half of his face was a burned mess of scars and no one could even decipher a quarter of the emotions his cold dead heart could muster.
"I don't know, you're so hot that you fried my brain,"
Hawks answered, his smile bright and flirty. Dabi tried to drink his cup, realizing too late that it was empty and he looked like the dumb college student he was. He coughed quietly, trying to get his bearing again, focusing his attention on the blonde jock that kept. on. smiling.
"Good thing there's a fireman nearby."
He didn't get as far as throwing a wink, but his smirk was ravenous. Hawks gapped, eyes wide as a saucer and a bright blush colouring the tip of his ears. Satisfied, Dabi continued on,
"How about we ditch this party?
— I thought you would never ask."
And ditch the party they did, the onlookers ignoring them. They weren't the first couple to slip away from the party after all.