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It had been a planned attack.
Hawks, who was fighting against Dabi, had been informed a week before. Shigaraki had decided that it was best for them to face off against each other and set them to training almost immediately. Hawks, of all the pros that would be at Yuuei during the attack, was fast enough to avoid Dabi’s flames, but only barely. If they learned how to make it look like they were fighting tooth and nail, while in reality it was all choreographed, it left the League with more freedom.
“I don’t get it,” Dabi had said, irritated at the prospect of having to fake a fight. Shigaraki had looked at him with a flat expression, while Hawks, who understood, licked his lips and sighed.
“I’m a liability in the attack.” he said. “I have to act for the opposition, and I know what your plan is. I know exactly how to stop you.”
“So,” Dabi, now comprehending, continued, pulling his cigarette from his lips, smoke rising in the air, “we make it look like you’re fightin’ me. That way, none of the pros think you’re slacking. They know I’m a handful.” He sighed, smoke pouring from his lips. “Fuck this, Shiggy. I thought this was gonna be fun.”
“Aw,” Hawks taunted, “I thought you were starting to like spending time with me.” Dabi made a face at Hawks, blowing a cloud of smoke into his face, and Hawks stuck out his foot to make Dabi stumble as he walked away. He cursed under his breath, shooting a jet of flames at Hawks without the intention to harm. Hawks dodged out of the way and laughed, following at a safe distance.
“Just do it,” Shigaraki had muttered, shaking his head as he left too.
Now, Hawks was jerking out of the way of Dabi’s flames, cursing under his breath. Didn’t matter how much training they went through; Dabi was a skilled fighter and Hawks, used to never needing to break a sweat, was met with a challenge.
Still, they both moved seamlessly around each other, like they’d been fighting for years. It would have been a dead giveaway, if their reputations hadn’t preceded them. Hawks listened as they danced around each other, with each other, trying to figure out how the other fights were going without really checking.
Endeavour was fighting Spinner and Compress; Eraserhead had taken on Shigaraki, likely a rematch from the USJ; Twice and Toga were struggling to take down Present Mic; and Midnight was dancing between all three, assisting where she could. They’d attacked during a break, when the students weren’t at the school – they weren’t after the students this time, they were after information and weakening the pros they could, in preparation for a bigger attack.
A shout cut through the fights, and Hawks snapped his gaze over to where he thought the shout had originated from. Shigaraki and Eraserhead, who had been fighting with wild determination from the beginning, the tension between the two intense, were caught in something like a standstill. It was Eraserhead who had shouted, and though he was still fending off Shigaraki’s half-hearted attempts, his eyes were cast in Hawks and Dabi’s direction, worried and scared.
Hawks instinctively looked to Dabi, who had locked eyes with a little girl with silver-blue hair and a single horn jutting from her forehead. Hawks instantly recognized her from files in the Commission’s storage rooms and was doused with sobering fear. He couldn’t call out to Dabi to warn him, couldn’t pull Dabi out of the way, he couldn’t give himself away. But he could get the girl away from Dabi, under the pretense of protecting her.
He leapt towards them, Dabi’s back half-turned to him, flying as fast as he possibly could. The girl – Eri, currently in Eraserhead and Present Mic’s care – was reaching out to touch Dabi, and Dabi didn’t know, couldn’t know because he hadn’t fought against Overhaul. Hawks bit back a shout and pushed himself past his limit of instant speed – he was the fastest in the world, but he couldn’t teleport, and he was a good fifteen meters away from Dabi and Eri. If he didn’t get there in time, Dabi would be gone.
His fear became sheer panic and he watched, almost in slow motion, as Eri’s pointer finger brushed against Dabi’s leg. Her horn was glowing, and Dabi was starting to take a step back, but it was a beat too late. Hawks felt a desperate cry in the back of his throat as he got closer, closer, almost –
Dabi jerked like he’d been punched in the stomach and Hawks managed to get his arms around Eri, ripping her away from Dabi, begging a god he didn’t believe in that Dabi would still be there when he looked over his shoulder.
He crashed into the ground, Eri protected by his wings wrapping around the pair of them and his arms keeping her close. They slid a few feet, coming to a stop, and when he released her, she was close to tears. A kid, he realized, she’s just a kid. She probably doesn’t even know what she did.
A surge of adrenaline caused Hawks to get to his feet and look for Dabi’s tall figure, for any sign that he still existed, that he was still alive. There was dirt clouding around them from his crash with Eri, and he used his wings to wave it away, more desperate than he’d been in a long time.
Dabi was on his knees, staring at his arms and wrists. Hawks was dizzy with relief, until he realized why Dabi was looking at his wrists and arms: his scars were completely gone, his skin flushed healthily from exertion. Dabi looked up from his arms and locked eyes with Hawks, and Hawks noticed that his hair was stark white before he stopped being able to breathe. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Dabi, though he desperately needed to – he couldn’t stare at a villain like this, not in front of Endeavour, Eraserhead and Present Mic, not now.
Dabi was beautiful with his scars, but he was beautiful without them too. His eyes shone like arctic fire, his pale-ish skin only accentuating the saturation and intensity of colour in his irises. His scars usually took away from their effect – Hawks hadn’t even noticed how pretty Dabi’s eyes were until their third or fourth meeting – but now they were unhindered and vivid.
“Get me out of here,” Dabi whispered, knowing that Hawks would be the only one to hear him. His eyes shifted to the pros, standing and staring with awe alongside villains, just as shocked and confused, and Hawks ripped his gaze away to look at them all too.
The most interesting expression was Endeavour’s, and he looked like he was about to be sick. Hawks wondered why, when he looked back to Dabi, and it slammed into him like a fucking brick wall.
How could he have not seen it sooner?
Endeavour started to speak, saying “Touy –“ and Hawks snapped into action, like he’d done when he’d seen Eri reaching out for Dabi, cutting Endeavour off.
He flew to Dabi’s side, dropping down to look into Dabi’s wide, scared eyes, and Hawks felt sick. Dabi didn’t show fear, not even around Hawks. He grabbed onto Dabi’s wrist with his gloved hand, and Dabi looped that arm around his neck. He helped Dabi to his feet, and then looked at the rest of the pros and villains.
Endeavour looked frozen and broken. Eraserhead’s expression was shocked, and Present Mic was simply staring, lips parted. Midnight looked like she was ready to start fighting again, specifically with Hawks, while the rest of the League gave Hawks shocked but approving looks.
Hawks’ gaze lingered on Endeavour the longest, and he slid an arm around Dabi’s waist, keeping him close. “Don’t let go,” he breathed, and Dabi gripped onto him a little tighter as confirmation.
Hawks took off without looking back.
~
When they got to Dabi’s apartment, the safest place for the both of them, Dabi immediately shut himself in his bedroom. Hawks tried to talk to him but relented when it became obvious that Dabi wasn’t going to answer.
So he turned away from the door and sat against the wall across from it, waiting quietly for Dabi to emerge. He didn’t know what he wanted to say – sorry? That wouldn’t cut it. He didn’t know if saying anything would cut it, at this point, and he was preoccupied with the fact that he’d publicly stated his loyalty for the opposite side, and that Endeavour was Dabi’s father.
That didn’t even feel real yet. Endeavour was Dabi’s abusive father he rarely mentioned – the one that drove him to become a villain, the one that drove him insane. Hawks’ idol, the one hero he’d looked up to, was the abusive father of the one person he lo –
He stopped thinking about it. There was too much going on for him to properly comprehend what had happened, and pair that with an unbearable concern for Dabi, Hawks was close to snapping.
The door opened. Hawks looked up as he got to his feet, arms itching to reach out, remaining by his side anyways.
“I…” Dabi breathed, slumping against the frame of his door. He didn’t open it all the way and didn’t look up at Hawks. “I can cry.” He confessed, and then he looked at Hawks, and Hawks saw crystal clear tears that sparkled in the dim lighting of his apartment.
“Dabi,” Hawks whispered. Dabi laughed a little nervously, reaching into the pocket of his pants, and pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. Hawks watched as he tapped one out, sticking it in his mouth, and lighting it with a blue flame that erupted from the tip of his finger. He extinguished it, inhaled slowly, and then, on his exhale, made a broken sound. His hands were shaking, and when he pulled his cigarette away from his mouth, he nearly dropped it. “I’m sorry.” Hawks said quietly.
“Don’t,” Dabi warned. “You, of all people, don’t apologize.” Tears were streaming down his cheeks now, though he was either ignoring them or simply didn’t realize they were there. When he reached up and wiped them away with his fingertips, however, Hawks received his answer. He looked at them and laughed again, shakier than before. “I put those scars there myself,” he admitted, “and now they’re gone.”
I thought you were dead, Hawks thought, I thought you were dead and it’s the most afraid I’ve ever been in my life. He said, “I thought you might’ve,” and Dabi gave him an amused expression. He looked strange without his scars, like he was another person. Someone else. Someone he’d tried to escape. “I also thought that Endeavour might’ve given them to you.”
Dabi tensed, and muttered, “You’re too smart for your own good, birdie. The ones he gave me are gone too.”
Hawks felt rage flare inside him, intense and overwhelming, and he had to fight to stay where he was. He wanted so badly to act, to seek out revenge, but didn’t. He had gotten the same treatment from his father, and knowing Endeavour was the one to inflict it upon Dabi…
“Keigo Takami.” Hawks said softly. Dabi looked up, eyebrows raised. Hawks turned away from his gaze and felt heart creep up his cheeks. “It’s only fair.” He said lamely, as some sort of excuse.
“Takami,” Dabi murmured, testing the name out. Hawks shuddered – that wasn’t and never would be his name; that one belonged to his father.
“Keigo,” Hawks insisted. Dabi raised one eyebrow this time, and his expression was unreadable. “Takami belongs to my – to a thief.”
“Touya,” Dabi replied, holding his hand out. His tears had slowed, and he wasn’t shaking as much anymore. “Todoroki belongs to Endeavour.” Hawks swallowed and shook Dabi’s hand with his gloved one. Dabi was temptingly warm. “Nice to meet you, Keigo,” Dabi said gently, and Hawks realized with a pang that he meant it.
“You too, Touya,” Hawks replied, working to keep his voice steady. Their hands lingered, and then, neither pulling away completely, they fell level with their hips, still clasped. Hawks felt like he might have a heart attack but didn’t pull away.
Dabi lifted his cigarette and took a long drag, eyes too soft as they wandered over Hawks’ face. “You revealed yourself.”
“It appears so,” Hawks replied.
“For me,” Dabi continued.
Hawks closed his eyes and sighed a little, like he wasn’t ready to answer the unspoken question. “Yes,” he succumbed, “I did.”
Dabi’s lips were incredibly soft and warm against Hawks’, and surprisingly gentle. There was enough pressure for it to be something, but not enough to make Hawks feel pressure to reciprocate. And yet, Hawks found himself shifting to press firmer into Dabi, fingers curling a little tighter around Dabi’s.
They broke too soon, and Hawks was miraculously capable of maintaining eye contact. Dabi’s eyes hadn’t changed, but something behind them had.
“Kinda been wanting to do that for a long time,” Dabi confessed hoarsely.
Hawks swallowed and licked his lips. “They told me you were insane and sociopathic. Apathetic.”
“I was,” Dabi agreed, and then he was kissing Hawks again, and Hawks wondered why they’d waited so long.
~
bonus
~
Hawks slurped his noodles noisily, getting broth on his nose and cheeks and chin, and Dabi watched with horrified amusement. Hawks glanced over and frowned slightly, chewing a little faster and swallowing.
Dabi spoke before he could start. “You’re so messy,” he said, aghast. Hawks, mouth open to speak, closed his lips and thought for a second. Dabi just split into a grin and shook his head, shifting to look back at the TV they’d both been watching. Hawks muttered you’re just as bad under his breath and looked back to the TV, trying to keep from getting broth everywhere.
The past month had been a shitshow. Shigaraki had flipped out at the both of them for leaving in the middle of an attack, Toga had spotted their laced fingers and started to squeal like a pig being slaughtered, while the rest of the League sat back, both amused and shocked. Posters promoting Hawks as the number 2 hero were flipped into warnings and incentive for anyone who knew his whereabouts.
Funnily enough, there was a select group in Japan that had started supporting them. While no one but the League had actual confirmation that they were together, the footage from the fight (“Someone was filming?” Hawks had asked, watching the video over Dabi’s shoulder. Dabi had snorted and nodded,) suggested otherwise. The Commission had tried and failed several times to shut the group down, seeing as they were steadily growing.
(“At least you’re good for one thing,” Shigaraki had muttered over the phone. “Didn’t think I’d ever encourage receiving support from civilians.”)
Hawks looked back over at Dabi, and then down to the arm closest to him. His scars were gone, but they’d found a tattoo artist who worked with villains, and Dabi was slowly replacing them with works of art. He’d told Hawks about the idea, and Hawks had emptied out his bank account and spread the money out on their now-shared bed.
(“Not like I have any use for it,” Hawks shrugged. Dabi had looked at him with a strange look, pushed all of the money onto the floor, and then tugged Hawks onto the mattress with him.)
“Whatcha starin’ at, pretty bird?” Dabi purred, not looking over at Hawks. Hawks shivered at the new nickname – a month and he still hadn’t gotten used to it. He hoped he never would.
“You,” Hawks said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He paused, and in the silence, Dabi looked over at him calmly. “What are we gonna do next?” he asked quietly.
Dabi hummed, looking away, and then stood up. “We’re going to figure out how to get some groceries because I’m sick of takeout.” He said, turning to face Hawks. “And we’re going to get a better bed because I think this one won’t last.”
Hawks raised one eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, Dabs?”
Dabi offered a smug, gunpowder smirk. “Is it?” he teased.
(The bed lasted about two rounds, and then, in the middle of the third, it collapsed with a loud bang. Hawks, sitting atop Dabi’s lap, had started to laugh, leaning over to bury his face in Dabi’s sweat-damp chest. “Touya,” he’d gasped, still laughing as he leaned up to kiss Dabi.
“Keigo,” Dabi had replied, kissing him with a smile.)