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Hawks wasn't sure why he kept coming back.
The coffee was not that good, and the position of the café was so far that he missed at least five other cafés on his way there, all with much better coffee. And considering one of them had been Starbucks, that was saying something.
So, why did he keep coming back to that place at the corner of the street, its sign missing at least two letters?
Okay, maybe Hawks knew precisely why he kept coming back.
The first time he had come there was when he was around helping another hero, and she had said there was a café nearby where they could celebrate handing villains to the police force. And Hawks had accepted.
More poetic souls would claim that the decisions had sealed his fate.
Hawks hadn't paid him attention at all at first, so all these poetic souls could stick the 'love at first sight' shit right back their ass. He was busy talking to the other hero, barely paying attention to the man he ordered to - nothing except his very tall frame that was very catching.
They waited until they received their orders, and he greedily reached for his cappuccino with three shots - vanilla, caramel, and hazelnut - his mouth already salivating at the smell of the sweetness which Rumi would call a crime against humanity.
He grabbed his to-go cup and halted.
When he looked up, he could see that his partner had her mug signed with a little smiley face on the side. Hawks' own, however, lacked any of such.
It was petty, Hawks was well aware, but there were no other customers currently waiting, so he found himself leaning against the counter with a smile. He was a famous pro-hero, damn it, and he wanted to enjoy its perks.
"Hey, excuse me? I think you forgot to write down my name?"
He looked at the young guy with raised eyebrows. The barista mimicked the expression but somehow managed to pull a bored expression. Then, finally, he ceased to read the magazine in his hands, put it on the counter, and slowly walked to Hawks, leisurely leaning against the edge.
It was only then that Hawks took in his appearance - a tall, lanky man with tattoos covering all of his arms, some of them skulls, blackbirds, snakes, and dragons, all of which dark. They reached up to his chin, where he had two piercings at his lower lip, and both of his eyebrows pierced. His black hair was gelled so well it spiked in every direction possible, and he looked at Hawks from under them with fiery, turquoise eyes.
"I don't know your name," he growled, and, okay, here Hawks was willing to give the sappy fools some credit because if (and that's a big if) a person could fall in love with a voice, he would do it right there. "And you didn't give me one, so I don't really know what you're complaining about, pigeon."
"Ha!" Hawks laughed, but he doubted it reached his eyes. "Very funny. Now, would you be so kind as to write my name on the cup, please?"
What, he did ask nice enough... right?
The barista stared at him with a blank expression for several sluggish seconds, which just didn't seem to pass fast enough.
Hawks used the opportunity to lower his look and shifted it toward the nametag.
Dabi.
"Alright, I'll write your name on that stupid cup," Dabi declared eventually, and before Hawks could protest or complain to the heroine next to him that she shouldn't laugh at him, he grabbed the cup from Hawks' hands.
A satisfactory smile grew on Hawks' lips as he watched Dabi take a pencil and start to write his name on the cup.
"There ya go," Dabi purred, the pencil clicking as he withdrew the tip.
"See, it wasn't that-" Hawks stared at the name on the cup. "-hard..."
It said 'Gawks' in the most ugly handwriting Hawks had ever seen.
A moment of silence passed, and the grin on Dabi's lips just got wider.
Eventually, Hawks cleared his throat. "What's that?"
"I dunno," Dabi deadpanned.
"That's not my name, though?"
"You didn't tell me your name," Dabi argued easily.
Hawks shook his head, frustration growing inside him. "But you know who I am!"
"Do I? I don't remember, angel."
Hawks felt the tips of his ears heating up. He opened his mouth to continue the argument, but before he could, his phone started buzzing, announcing another battle to fight and another villain to catch.
He glared at Dabi, pulling the man closer. Then, narrowing his eyes, he pointed at him with the finger of his free hand. "This is not over."
Dabi scoffed. "Sure it isn't... 'Gawks.'"
Tension grew in Hawks' shoulders, and he just knew that a vein popped up on his forehead.
Then, he stormed out of the café, promising himself that he would never set a foot inside the café again. Needless to say, he did not keep that promise.
It would be much easier not to go to the café if the coffee weren't so freakin' good. So, in the end, it truly wasn't even Hawks' fault... was it? How was he supposed to say no to the smell of freshly roasted arabica and how the milk was whipped so well it practically melted on his tongue?
However, it didn't take him long to realize that, while the coffee was always excellent, only Dabi could prepare it like a liquid orgasm - delicious and always making Hawks crave more.
He didn't know what the man was doing to the coffee, but he would never ask him to stop.
So, that was how Hawks decided to watch the place - not in the stalker-y way, of course! He wasn't following Dabi... only the barista who made him the coffee... okay, it did sound slightly weird now that Hawks thought about it, but all he wanted was to find when it was Dabi's shifts.
And so he would drop by on his days off or if he had a mission nearby. That way, he could soon realize that Dabi worked mainly in the afternoons and on weekends. And he worked really, really often, not being in the café scarcely, which meant that he probably didn't have a family.
On a weekend such as that, Hawks walked in, happy to find that the place was considerably empty. Then, again, it was evening and close to the closing ours, winter slowly knocking at the door.
Hawks shivered when he walked into the warmth of the café and headed straight to the bar, ignoring the way some of the customers started to whisper loudly and stare at him.
"Hi there," he dashed Dabi with a jittery smile and leaned against the counter.
Dabi's lips curled slightly, his eyebrow-raising before he imitated the posture and leaned against his elbow. "Hello, what can I do for you?"
Hawks scoffed at the way the man spoke as if they didn't see each other a couple of times this week already.
"I'll have the regular," Hawks announced.
The dimples on Dabi's cheeks deepened, and Hawks felt a fluttery sensation in his belly, which he decided to ignore, more so when he heard the words from Dabi's mouth.
"I don't know what that is."
Hawks blinked at Dabi several times but, despite himself, he felt a smile tugging at his lips. "Even your memory can't be that bad - I've come here pretty often in the last month."
It would probably be much easier to be rightfully annoyed by Dabi if his smile weren't so dashing.
"Sorry, I can't recall your name, so I'm not really sure what's your regular."
Hawks sighed melodramatically. "You must be untouched by the culture, aren't you? I am Hawks. Now, could I please get a cappuccino with shots of vanilla, caramel, and hazelnut?"
"Okay, first," Dabi tilted his head to the side, exposing his throat and the long, tattoed jaw, and oh-no... Hawks might be in a bit of trouble. It was a small miracle he heard Dabi continue over the sheer gay-panic override in him. "That's not your name. Second, I'll only do it because I like the way you say 'please.'"
He practically purred the last word, a silky smooth sound that sent a shiver down Hawks' spine, and OH-NO!
"Noted," Hawks croaked, wincing at the sound of his own voice – more so when Dabi's smirk widened. Then, quickly, he cleared his throat and continued. "I will make sure never to do it again. Now, could I get my coffee?"
Dabi sighed melodramatically but turned around, his large hands with skilled fingers already working the machine. "Shame. I do enjoy you begging."
Hawks laughed, then, to his absolute horror, his mouth came up with the worst possible retort: "You haven't even heard me yet."
"Interesting choice of words," Dabi noted before handing him the cup.
Hawks reached for it, eager to take it and disappear from the café, just to avoid his embarrassment, but as he pulled, he encountered resistance.
His and Dabi's eyes met as Hawks looked up at the man who refused to release his grip on the cup, and Hawks found himself lost in the brightest shade of blue, which reminded him of immaculate ocean waves. He felt his breath hitching in his throat when his fingers brushed against Dabi's, much warmer ones.
"Ehm," he croaked again. "Can I please take my coffee?"
He slapped himself internally when, despite his resolution, he'd said 'please' again.
Dabi endowed him with a cheshire grin that had no right to be as attractive as it was. "That depends if you intend to pay for it."
Hawks blinked once, twice. Then- "Oh…"
Dabi laughed, a short, rich sound that made Hawks' heart flutter again and yearning for more. "'Oh,' indeed… Or are they not paying the pro-heroes enough?"
Hawks frowned, yanking away the cup from Dabi's hand, and it was a small miracle that the liquid didn't spill on the counter, despite the cover.
"So, you do know that I am a pro-hero," Hawks muttered, searching his pockets for his wallet to pay up. And, if his ears felt hot from being flustered, he decided to ignore it.
"I would be a fool not to recognize such a famous, pretty face," Dabi smirked.
Hawks smiled, first giving Dabi the money, then his eyes examined the cup. His eyebrow shot up. "And yet, you still state the wrong name on my cup."
He stared intendedly at the culprit responsible for the word 'Pigeon' on his cup.
"Cause I don't know your name, angel," Dabi winked teasingly. "See you around, hero."
And see him around he did.
At the rare days that he wasn't too tired to go home quickly or the days where he had a patrol, Hawks would find himself having the coffee right there at the café.
He enjoyed the smell of freshly ground coffee, the scents of sugar and syrups that would be brought to the table in the corner he chose for himself every time someone walked in.
And of course, and this one Hawks only admitted to himself internally, he liked to be in the presence of his newly found crush.
When he looked at Dabi, he honestly looked at him beyond the annoying smirk and even more obnoxious behavior; the barista was handsome, his remarks were witty and, fuck Hawks, funny.
On the evenings when there weren't too many customers, and Hawks was one of the few people at the café, he would sometimes catch Dabi, leaning against the counter with a black coffee in one hand and an open book in the other. He was wearing glasses, and it was utterly unfair that anyone could look so attractive with them.
Hawks himself didn't read as often as he should since, most of the time, he was too busy and too tired after patrols to open the book, but because of Dabi, he searched for the book the other man was reading. To his own surprise, he even found the book Silent Cry, which he had seen Dabi read, quite delightful.
It was with the book that Hawks once sat in his usual corner of the café and, hoping that Dabi would notice but not quite sure what precisely the purpose of this hope was, Hawks raised the new, shining book on the table in front of him at full display.
Of course, Dabi would notice the conspicuous exhibit of the book he was reading at the time. Hawks pretended nothing was amiss, though, even when he felt the gaze sliding between him and the book in his hands. He stared into the page for several minutes, hoping for Dabi to come closer so they could chat. The café was empty except for him and a couple more people.
His heart fluttered when the barista clapped the book close, gently, yet the sound carried over the distance. Then, Hawks saw him with the corner of his eye move around the counter, strolling closer to him.
Like a stallion going wild, Hawks' heart paced fast and hard inside his chest, more so with each step Dabi took closer to him.
"Having a good read?" Dabi asked, holding the cup of coffee in his hand from top, with the tips of his fingers.
"What?" Hawks pretended not to see him coming, and he looked up with a wide smile. "Oh, hello there. I didn't see you coming. Ah, yeah, I am quite a passionate booker."
One of Dabi's eyebrows shot up, and the corner of his lips twitched as well. "I see… So passionate that you can read with your eyes fixated on the same spot for the last fifteen minutes."
Well. Shit.
Then, the realization hit Hawks with the power of a full-speed train. He closed the book himself and leaned into the booth. He looked at Dabi with a smirk of his own. "Stalking your customers much?"
But of course, Dabi had a quick, witty retort ready: "Only the pretty ones."
"Aw, you think I am pretty?" Hawks batted his eyes.
This time, Dabi rolled his eyes, but the smile gave him away. "False modesty does not look as cute on as you think."
"Jokes on you; I am always cute."
"Hmmm," Dabi purred in thought. "That only makes me want to study the theory in more than one position."
And, god, Hawks really should have taken his sweater off because it was getting hot in there.
Hawks lolled his head to the side, looking up at Dabi through eyelashes, his smile seduction incarnated. "I think you will have to elaborate on these positions you want to put me in?"
Dabi smiled and licked his lips.
Then, the door to the café opened abruptly, and a group of teenagers marched in, their laughter ruining the perfectly hot moment.
Disappointment swirled through Hawks, and its weight sank him into the booth. Dabi rolled his eyes. If nothing else, at least the way he clenched his jaw was hot, although Hawks doubted it was anywhere as hot as what Dabi had been about to say.
The barista looked at him almost apologetically before returning to the counter and, quite rudely, taking the orders from the teens.
Hawks didn't find out if he intended to continue the conversation they had started, though, because his phone started ringing, he was urgently needed to help with a villain problem nearby.
When he saw the sour expression on Dabi's face as he watched the pro-hero leave, Hawks had never wished more to have a different job.
If nothing else, their little interaction proved to be very fruitful. Ever since, every time Dabi had a moment to spare, he would change the position behind the counter to sit in the chair opposite of Hawks, usually bringing his book.
It was surprisingly pleasant. Even on the evenings, Hawks didn't wish to discuss anything. Before he found this café, Hawks would always spend such time alone in his flat, but one day, he found himself on the way to the café without genuinely thinking about it. When he'd realized it was too late to turn around the home, he told himself he would order a coffee to go and just leave.
He still wasn't sure by what had Dabi realized how foul Hawks' mood had been. But, either way, Dabi had one look at Hawks, and all remarks he was about to say remained silent.
Thanks to this silence, Hawks has eventually decided to stay. After that, Dabi only asked: "Bad day, huh?" and when Hawks offered nothing but a grunt, Dabi replied in the same way.
After this short exchange, Hawks took his coffee and sat on his usual spot in the corner while Dabi finished serving the next customer. After he was done, Dabi then joined him at the table.
However, instead of their usual banter, Dabi sat down with him in the silence, bringing his book.
It was as surprising as it was nice, and they stayed like that until the closing time and then some more; the sound of Dabi's fingers occasionally sliding across the page or the paper rustling as he turned yet another page was surprisingly soothing.
Before Hawks realized, they stayed in the café well past the closing time, but Dabi didn't move or tell Hawks to leave.
When Hawks' phone told him it was midnight, he forced a slight smile on his lips.
"Nobody waiting for you back home?"
Dabi raised his eyes from his book, looking at Hawks from over the top bar of his glasses. Then, after a couple of seconds where he seemed to hesitate, a smile grew on his lips, an honest one.
"If this is your way of asking me whether I'm single, then the answer is yes. I live alone." He spoke quietly, then moved his head from one side to another. "If you don't count my cat."
"You have a cat?" Hawks asked, finding his own smile turning real.
Dabi scoffed. "More like I have a menace. Which is her actual name."
Hawks scoffed. "How dare you badmouthing her like this."
"Ah, the blessing of ignorance. You would understand if you knew her."
Hawks tilted his head to the side and smiled slightly. "Maybe one day I'll meet her."
Dabi mimicked the movement, his lips curling more, and his eyes seemed to sparkle.
"Maybe," he purred.
Hawks continued to sip his coffee, indulging in the warm feeling in his belly. He hid his smile behind the edge of his cup, despite it being empty.
Hawks contemplated it for a very long time. Each time he visited the café actually. Every time Dabi as much as smiled at him.
He told about his plan to Rumi during one of their lunches, watching her chewing on a cooked carrot.
"Just do it," she ordered after the thirtieth time he'd told her. "Dating civilians is not as bad as you think." She grinned suddenly. "Plus, you can role-play the shit out being of pro-hero."
Haws winced at the idea. "I don't think Dabi would be into that. He keeps telling me he doesn't even know my name. My! Why am I on all those billboards if I can't get laid."
Rumi laughed at him, and Hawks sighed, knowing he shouldn't have expected anything else.
"What's this?" Dabi's eyebrows were raised as he stared at the small card in his hand.
Hawks felt cold sweat running down on his spine - had he misunderstood all the hints from Dabi?
"It's um..." he cleared his throat, shaking his head - he was a hero, damn it! He'd done harder things than giving his number to a dude. "It's my phone number. You know, if you ever need a hero."
Dashing a smile, Hawks leaned against the counter.
Dabi's jaw tightened. Slowly, he put the card on the counter, looking at Hawks with half-lidded eyes, making him squirm. He didn't remember ever seeing Dabi so pissed.
"I don't need a hero."
He slid the card back to Hawks and began to wipe a mug with a cloth, even though Hawks had already seen him clean this one.
And the hero couldn't do much but stare, feeling cold, as if Dabi just splashed icy water into his face. But then, something clicked in his brain.
Catching the straw of hope with the desperation of a drowning man, Hawks urged: "Wait!"
Feeling Dabi's questioning look on him, Hawks frenziedly ran his hands all over his pocket until he found a pen. If nothing else, his frantic behavior seemed to capture Dabi's interest because he leaned back to him to see what Hawks began writing on the back of the card.
"This–" Hawks whispered, licking his lips, and pushed the card back to Dabi. "–is my personal number. Just, uh, call me if you ever feel like talking."
Internally, he winced. He sounded like he offered a free therapy session, not a date.
And, apparently, Dabi heard it the same way because he cackled loudly, not unlike a hyena.
Hawks watched him, stomach kneading, palms sweating while Dabi's eyes darted between the card and Hawks slowly. Then, he clicked his tongue, and his lips wavered in a smile.
"Does it mean you will tell me your name if I call you?" Dabi teased.
Hawks rolled his eyes as he always did. "You already know it. You are just being stubborn about it."
Dabi shook his head, insisting. "You didn't tell me yet, bird-brain."
And had it not been for his work phone starting to ring in his pocket, Hawks would tell him to piss off with laughter.
Like this, he only gave Dabi an apologetic smile and left.
Hawks didn't revisit the café. It'd been several days already. And it wasn't that Hawks didn't want to. He wanted to. But the day right after, he had given Dabi his number, he was called in on a villain attack near a city park.
Despite his attempts, several civilians lost their lives. The villain was put behind bars, yes, but that wouldn't return the life to anyone. Hawks had failed, had been too slow.
Nobody blamed him, although they should have. And he'd been too ashamed to go to Dabi again.
What kind of hero would let so many people die? He could imagine Dabi's dismissive words about heroes if he dared to show his face at the café.
With this attitude, he only went to work and back home. Occasionally, Rumi dragged him out to make sure he ate something.
During the evening, he was sprawled across his couch; a fluffy blanket was thrown over his entire body as his feathers decorated the floor with red. He was munching on ice cream from a little bucket.
Suddenly, his phone rang.
Hawks felt himself roll his eyes. He thought about letting the call go to voicemail for several seconds and simply call them later. To which, of course, he could imagine the voice of his handlers, telling him how irresponsible that would be.
With a groan that an old man, tired of life, would be proud of, Hawks got up, wrapped blankets around his waist, and grabbed the phone from his coffee table.
He narrowed his eyes when he saw the unknown number beaming at him from the display.
For several moments, he considered who it could be - it wasn't like he gave his number to random peo-
Oh!
His heart skipped a beat, and he felt adrenaline rushing through his veins. So it had to be Dabi. But why would Dabi call him at such an hour? What would he want?
Gulping, he took in a deep breath. He could do this. It was an improvement, right? This meant that Dabi did notice Hawks wasn't coming to the café, and he was reaching out on his own.
For the first time in days, Hawks felt pleasant warmth spreading through his belly, and he smiled.
Quickly, suddenly afraid that the buzzing would cease, Hawks reached for the phone and picked up.
"Hawks speaking."
A very short silence followed before the familiar, grumpy voice brought a smile to Hawks' lips. "Really? That's how you pick up even on a private phone?"
Short, desperate laughter escaped Hawks' throat. "I have no idea what you are talking about."
"Sure."
"And who am I speaking to anyway?" Hawks asked, the tone not yet as teasing as he hoped.
For a moment, the other end of the line remained quiet. Then, he received a reply. "It's Dabi."
The words were so unlike Dabi, so tender that Hawks almost forgot how to breathe.
"Oh... Hi Dabi. It's nice of you to call."
"Yeah," Dabi murmured and paused before continuing. "I didn't see you much around the café, so I was wondering what was up."
Hawks' stomach dropped, and he followed it, collapsing onto the couch. Dabi didn't know. Of course, he didn't; he probably didn't even watch news related to pro heroes and-
"I..." Dabi added, then hesitated. "I saw what happened on TV and wondered if you are, um... alright?"
The whirl of emotions rushing through Hawks at that moment was almost too much to handle, too much to grasp. Relief, confusion and touched at Dabi asking him this. It'd been so long since someone had.
And the words fell from his lips before he could stop them. "I don't know."
Dabi hummed a deep uncertain sound which brought more peace to Hawks anyway.
"Are you alone?" Dabi suddenly asked.
"I-" Hawks furrowed his brows. "I'm not. I'm just... chilling at home."
"Would you like for me to come over?"
Hawks' heart skipped a beat before he felt the blood rushing through his veins, loud with sudden want and adrenaline. "That'd be nice, I guess. If you bring coffee."
"Please," Dabi huffed cockily. "Of course, I'll bring coffee."
"Cool," Hawks smiled. "I'll text you the address."
"Sure. I'll see you in a bit."
Unceremoniously, Dabi ended the call, and it took all of Hawks' willpower not to start screaming. Then, quickly, as if to make sure Dabi didn't waste any time, Hawks sent his address his number.
When he checked twice if the text beamed the word 'read,' He glanced at the watch on his wrist - it was almost 10PM.
And Dabi was coming. To his place. When Hawks was wearing his pajamas and the whole place was in disarray.
Desperately trying not to panic, Hawks spread his arms and called upon his feathers and started to frantically tidy the place up. Which shouldn't have been as hard as it was given how little time he spent in his flat.
But, he found himself desperately wanting to impress Dabi, and even after he was done with putting things in their places, he found himself recharging them again, into better places. His jacket hanging on the coathanger near the door got placed from one holder to another three times - on the same coathanger - and he still wasn't satisfied. Then came the horror of picking the right clothes.
Still, it was nice - to clean, but most importantly, that Dabi was coming over, and finally, his mind could focus on something else than what a failure he'd been.
He was still cleaning by the time he heard the bell ringing.
Which was not the perfect time to realize that this was the first date in years which he had invited to his apartment. Usually, his one-night stands happen in their places.
No, no, no, he was not going to think about sex when Dabi was right outside the door.
Again, his brain refused to leave the focus on the king-size bed in his bedroom in combination with Dabi out of his mind.
He hurried to the door and then took a deep breath to calm his nerves.
The bell didn't ring again. Dabi was patient, waiting for Hawks to open him.
Hawks couldn't tell why he thought the apron Dabi wore at the café was a part of him. Instead, Dabi wore a tight leather jacket that suited him much more. And, just like back in the café, he was holding a cup of coffee.
"What's that?" Hawks asked innocently.
Dabi tilted his head to the side, cocking his brows. "Coffee?"
"I can see that!" Hawks cackled a laugh. "I thought the café was closed this time on Sunday."
"It does," Dabi confirmed, then, without waiting to be invited, walked past Hawks into the apartment, looking around. "Fortunately, I have the keys."
Hawks laughed again, closing the door, then following Dabi inside.
"You know," Dabi noted quietly. "This place is actually much smaller than I imagined it to be."
"I don't actually spend much time here."
"A shame..." Dabi grinned, his eyes set on the stairs leading to Hawks' nest - the bedroom. "I would know how to spend time here."
Hawks' breath hitched, and the room suddenly felt a tad too hot, but not in a wrong way. "And what would you have in mind?"
Dabi turned around, looking directly at him, smiling slightly. "I'm sure together we could figure out something mutually satisfying."
Hawks licked his lips and tilted his head to coquettish look up at Dabi. "Do you have any propositions?"
Instead of replying, Hawks walked closer to Dabi, palms sweating and heart pounding in his chest, but it was good. Stopping just a few inches away from Dabi, he reached for the cup that smelled like vanilla, caramel, and hazelnut.
Only for Dabi to withdraw it from him.
Hawks frowned, looking up at Dabi with a question in his eyes.
Immediately, Dabi darted his eyes away, rubbing his nape. "I saw what happened a couple of days ago and... I think you did what you could, so yeah... And... You alright, bird-brain?"
The words knocked the air out of Hawks' lungs. His eyes suddenly stang, and his chest tightened. Not because he was angry or disappointed. It'd just been the first time someone asked him such a simple question.
A genuine smile grew on his lips, probably too fond considering Dabi was nothing but his barista... for now, at least.
"I will be." He surprised even himself with the truth to the words. "I will most certainly be after I get my coffee."
Dabi grinned at him, and warmth spread in Hawks' underbelly. Once more, he attempted to take his cup, and, once more, Dabi held it back.
"You know," he said teasingly. "I don't usually buy coffee to people whose names I don't know."
Hawks huffed out and rolled his eyes, but the smile didn't leave him. "Really? I'm fucking Hawks."
"I know," Dabi purred. "But I want to know your name."
Hawks stared, his mouth feeling dry. He never, for one second, considered that Dabi was asking for his actual name. Truth, it was not hidden from the public but... No. He simply could not remember the last time anyone asked him his name.
He parted his lips and touched the cup Dabi held and the man's hand. And, if his voice cracked, he ignored it.
"Keigo. My name is Keigo."
Dabi smiled, practically beamed, and Hawks felt the same growing on his lips.
"Well–" Dabi handed him the cup and then touched his against Hawks'. "Nice to meet you, Keigo. I am Touya."
"Touya." Hawks tasted the name before taking a sip of his coffee. "The pleasure is all mine."
Dabi laughed, then took a step closer - he smelled of rich coffee roast and fire. When he reached to cup Hawks' face, the smaller man didn't object.
His hand was surprisingly rough but as big and as warm as he'd expected. And Hawks' face fitted into it perfectly.
And when their lips met? The kiss tasted like coffee, and Hawks didn't remember it ever tasting so good.