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"You know, hot stuff, you look more suspicious than usual wearing all black and those bulky sunglasses."
Hawks' tone was light, teasing good-naturedly. Dabi tilted his head slightly to the side and glanced at the hero. Originally, they were supposed to meet at a remote place the previous night. However, a random villain attacking a hospital had eaten up all of Hawks' time, so they had to reschedule. Dabi didn't like to appear in populated areas, but the hero had insisted he had useful information and, even though Dabi knew it was rubbish, he went anyway.
It wouldn't hurt to pretend that he was playing by the hero's rules from time to time; it was fun, amusing. It kept him on his toes.
Dabi took a moment to study Hawks' appearance before lifting his gaze to meet Hawks'. Not that Hawks was able to see his eyes behind his shades, but he was already looking at Dabi; the weight of his gaze was heavy. Dabi had caught him staring more often than not in the past few weeks. It had even become more frequent recently. Dabi didn't know what it was supposed to mean; Hawks must already be used to his excessive burn marks. He brushed it aside as a lousy tactic to claim dominance.
"And you look stupid in that ugly, baggy coat," Dabi retorted, shifting on the bench. "Brown doesn't suit you. It clashes horribly with your wings' color."
Hawks' feathers fluttered slightly. "It's comfortable."
"I'm surprised nobody has recognized you. You aren't even wearing a disguise," Dabi muttered under his breath, glancing at Hawks again.
Hawks' grin was soft. It stirred something deep in Dabi's chest. He pushed it down.
"I wonder that too. Makes me think people don't really look past a hero's persona."
Dabi didn't say anything. He left shortly after that, aware of the hero's gaze on him as he walked away.
Flames licked at Dabi's skin, crawling high around him on the walls, encircling the two men in the room. Among the flames, Dabi met Hawks' gaze. His grin widened, tugging at his staples, threatening to rip open his skin.
Hawks' wings were a pitiful mess of burnt feathers and yet, he was still standing, holding his ground. Blood dripped down his face, his limbs shook slightly, his expression was focused.
"You know, little bird," A few staples on his cheeks popped out, blood started to ooze out from his seams. "You look so good covered in red. It suits you better than brown."
Hawks' expression shifted to something akin to anger in a moment before he controlled it. Silently, he stood still as Dabi began to walk towards him through the flames. His gaze was locked on Dabi, never looking away. It was thrilling, Dabi thought. It had always been, he admitted to himself.
Hawks charged at him. Dabi met him halfway.
Dabi started visiting Hawks' apartment at first to get under his skin. Just as he had expected, the hero was unnerved in the beginning, but as time went on, he either got used to it or learned how to mask his annoyance. Dabi couldn't tell which assumption was correct and he didn't care enough to find out.
As long as Hawks left open his balcony door, and Dabi got to have a good meal and a comfortable couch to nap on, he didn't care what was going on in the hero's head.
That night, as Dabi stepped onto Hawks' balcony, he was mildly surprised to see a dim light in the apartment. Hawks was rarely home. He spied a feather floating above the balcony's door as he closed it behind him. It didn't move at first. Then it slowly drifted towards him, almost brushing against his face before zooming away to where the light was coming from.
Dabi hesitated in his spot for a second before deciding to follow after the lone feather, wondering what made Hawks hide himself in his dark apartment.
He stood on the threshold of the bathroom and peeked inside. Hawks was sitting on the tiled floor, a first aid kit open near him, its contents scattered around him, his feathers shed and strewn around the room.
Hawks lifted his head and gave him a small, tired smile. "Hey, Dabi. Didn't know you were coming tonight."
Dabi leaned his shoulder against the threshold, crossing his arms across his chest. "Who the fuck kicked your ass?"
Hawks flinched, his smile faltering. He mentally debated with himself about whether he should tell the truth before sighing and looking away, again, at his arm. "The Commission. They could be severely harsh if they want."
Dabi hummed non-committally, taking in the sight. There were bloody rags and unrolled bandages on the floor. Dabi studied the hero then, noticing the nasty bruises and cuts on his body, the bags under his eyes, and his pale face.
He noticed, too, that Hawks' fingers were shaking slightly as he wrapped a bandage around his arm. The sight made him uncomfortable all of a sudden. Dabi wasn't the type to offer comfort or help to someone. Not even when he once caught Fuyumi crying silently in her room before leaving without saying anything. Not even when Shouto once threw him a desperate look as he was dragged away by Endeavor.
Dabi wasn't a hero. Never had been. All he knew was how to inflict pain; he never learned how to take it away.
His gaze stopped on Hawks' wings. They were drooped and much smaller than how they usually were. "The Commission made a mess out of you, huh," he commented.
"No," Hawks' tone was firm. And so was his expression as he glared up at Dabi. "They made me a hero."
Silence fell over the room following his words. Hawks' expression shifted, looking like someone who had just let something slip that they shouldn't have before he hurriedly busied himself with unrolling another bandage.
Dabi smirked a little before turning around to leave. Throwing a sarcastic 'good luck, hero' over his shoulder before walking across the living room to the balcony.
Dabi took a short moment to study Hawks: the blood running down his face, the burn marks on his skin, the burnt wings at his back.
"What a lovely mess you are, hero."
Hawks' fingers brushed down along his arm. His touch was gentle, tender, careful of his staples and burns. It made Dabi sick.
"Stop it."
Hawks instantly drew his hand away. "Sorry." His naked body, like Dabi's, was covered in his bed sheets.
Dabi glanced down at Hawks from where he was reclining against the headboard, smoking, taking in Hawks dishevelled state: his unkempt hair, the bite marks covering his neck and shoulders, burn marks on his hips. Hawks stretched his body lazily, the sheets shifting with his fluid movements.
"Like what you see?" Hawks teased, smirking up at him.
"No. You're such a lousy whore," Dabi looked at him coolly.
"Not a whore, but," Hawks raised a finger and waved it in the air. "You wouldn't keep coming back to me if I wasn't a good fuck."
Dabi took a drag, letting the smoke out through the gaps between his face staples. "You're just a convenient tool to me. Nothing more."
Hawks was silent for a moment. "You sure know how to make a guy feel special, don't you."
Dabi raised a brow, smirking down at Hawks. "You wanna feel special? Fine. When the time comes, unlike those other losers I've burned, I'll give you a moment to speak your last words."
"When?" Hawks stiffened, immediately pushing himself up on his hands and sitting on the bed. "You mean you still don't trust me?"
In lieu of a response, Dabi took another drag before blowing smoke in Hawks' face.
Dabi kicked at Hawks' shoulder, digging his heel into the burns. Hawks let out a choked noise, his body too weak and wounded for him to move.
It was over.
Dabi always knew this moment would come. If Hawks thought otherwise, that just proved how stupidly optimistic he was.
"I promised you something, didn't I?" Dabi grinned, looking down at Hawks. His gold eyes met his. "Any last words, little bird?"
Hawks' body stiffened as if he was preparing himself to move and attack him again, but after a moment he gave up, going limp again, staring up at Dabi in silence. His breath came out as short pants as he opened his mouth to speak.
"I'm sorry." His voice was rough, raspy, nothing like his usual smooth voice, his charming laughs, his breathy moans.
"Could've fooled me," Dabi didn't spare any moment to think about Hawks' words, to study his expression and the look in his eyes, to think back on those rare moments that Hawks seemed genuine in his affection and actions. This situation had already dragged more than enough.
His flames surrounding them grew higher and burned hotter. They licked at his skin, slowly crawling up Hawks' body.
"Goodbye, Hawks."