Chapter Text
If he was being sentimental (or honest), Todoroki Enji would admit that there were….things he missed about his children being young. Particularly when they had been very young, before his pride and arrogance had driven them away. Little things, difficult to put a pin in…
Something he did not miss about those days was the germs. Touya in particular had had a talent for dragging home every illness under the sun and spreading it around the household, and while neither Natsuo nor Fuyumi had been so bad, Shoto had made up for it. Perhaps it was related to the quirk he shared with his eldest and youngest sons, so that anything that could survive their body heat could also survive his. Perhaps it was just to prolong the length of time he himself was forced to contend with working long hours while also under the weather. But whatever it was, it was over.
Or it was supposed to be.
Instead, he found himself facing a crimson bundle of feathers and flight suit and what smelled suspiciously like fever sweat on the couch in one corner of his office. The window near his desk was open, and hadn’t been when he had left. No doubt the lock had been jimmied by a feather. Again.
Enji dropped the stack of files he had been carrying onto his desk from much higher than was necessary. The heap of feathers exploded into motion at the noise, resolving into Hawks as he threw himself up and over the back of the couch- or tried, as the couch was against a wall. Hawks hit hard and rolled to the floor with a startled groan.
“Get out of my office, Hawks,” Enji growled, settling into his office chair as though he hadn’t just made Japan’s #2 hero do a halfway decent imitation of a pigeon hitting a window.
Hawks picked himself up off the floor, feathers ruffling and resettling. “What the fuck was that for?” he demanded.
“You shouldn’t be here at all, let alone asleep. This is an office, not a flop house.”
Hawks perched himself on the arm of the couch, reordering his hair with his fingers. Enji gave him a once over and didn’t like what he saw. A fine tremble in the hands…sweat at his hairline and in the hollow of his throat….not good.
“Got some intel for you, hot stuff. Came by to bring it, but you weren’t here. So I figured I’d wait.”
“You can come in through the lobby like a civilized person, and wait in the lobby like anyone else.”
Hawks dismounted, noodling his way across the office and around Enji’s desk, squeezing between desktop and chair arms to drape himself over the much larger man’s lap. Enji took a sharp little breath in between his teeth.
“Hawks…”
This thing they had was still very young, awkward and uncertain and, in Enji’s darker moments, shameful, and it was always kept behind closed doors, away from the public. But here Hawks was, settling into his lap like a spoilt housecat.
“Mmnnpph…..just for a little,” Hawks mumbled, plastering himself against Enji’s chest. “Out all night…didn’t sleep…”
“You can’t-“
Hawks waved a hand at Enji, almost hitting him in the nose with the little flash drive between two fingers.
“You c’n review this an’ I c’n nap.”
“This is a public-“
“You locked the door, coming in.” Hawks yawned. As Enji took the flash drive, Hawks sank against him, wings rustling as they spread to cover his back and about half of Enji’s field of vision. Enji hurriedly extinguished his beard before any feathers could singe.
“I have work to do. What if there’s a call?”
“Then dump me on the couch.” Hawks nuzzled briefly up under Enji’s chin, sweat-damp skin scraping deliciously against the older man’s stubble. “I’ll be quiet. Just need t’ sleep off a long night an’ a funky food truck dinner.”
Something tight in Enji’s chest loosened. It wasn’t something contagious, then, just a young man making stupid choices about where his food came from. He sighed a cloud of steam and put a hand on Hawks’ back, holding the lean bundle of limb and feather still while he adjusted them both in the chair, hopefully lessening the chance he’d have a dead leg before Hawks’ nap was over.
“Do not make me regret this.”
“Won’t. MMmmgahd your body heat makes my stomach feel so much better….”
“You should be more mindful of what you eat,” Enji grumbled, pulling his keyboard and mouse closer to compensate for Hawks in his lap. “A hero must take proper care of their body, or it will fail them.”
“I was hungry,” Hawks mumbled into his shirt.
Enji muttered under his breath, plugged the flash drive in, and got to work.
By nothing short of a small miracle, they got a solid two and a half hours of paperworking done before Enji’s pager went off, calling him out to an explosion of unknown origin. Trapped civilians, fires burning…more or less his area of expertise.
He probably should have been gentle, but instead he did exactly as Hawks had suggested and dumped the younger man onto the couch in a jumble of limbs and bleary groaning. His left leg had gone to sleep more than an hour before, and it took some doing to make it out the door without limping or tripping.
When he returned, smoke-streaked and bruised but satisfied, Hawks was gone, leaving behind a few stray feathers and a still-warm dent in a couch cushion.
Several days later, Enji found himself on patrol in an area of the city he didn’t spend much time in, covering for another hero currently in the hospital. Not a hero of note, no one he knew personally and certainly not of any significant ranking, but it butted his patrol route up against Hawks’, and that was….
Well, it was a distraction to be sure. Hawks, being both highly mobile and highly irritating, made regular forays onto Endeavor’s route, and it had taken him less than ten minutes to connect to the man’s earpiece, so his chatter could continue as long as he was within the fairly long range of the high-end piece of equipment.
On a good day, this would have been alternatively annoying and flattering; Hawks’ flirtatious nature was known to all, allowing the blond to come onto Enji in public without anyone thinking it was odd behavior. Enji, of course, would swat at him, scold, and make efforts to chase him off, with the smug knowledge that for every time Hawks ignored him now, there would be another time he would deny Hawks once they were behind closed doors at night. If Hawks was particularly obnoxious, Enji could keep him on edge for well over an hour, over-stimulated and begging.
Today, however, was not a good day. Something he’d eaten earlier wasn’t sitting well, making his belly loud and restless, and the additional heat of having his quirk active (he was on patrol) had him bloated and uncomfortable, tight costume stretched over the soft swell of his upset stomach. He suspected his mic was picking up every burp and groan he couldn’t suppress, and while whoever was back at his agency monitoring the frequencies might not comment, Hawks….
“Mmrph….HooORRRP!”
He thumped a fist against his sternum, hoping to work up a little more gas and ease off some of the unpleasant pressure.
Whoa! You feeling’ alright, Big Guy? That’s like the sixth one in fifteen minutes!
Hawks’ voice came in loud over his earpiece, too clear for Hawks to be anywhere except within clear line-of-sight. Endeavor turned to check behind him, seeing a streak of red and tan coming his way.
“Nngh…mind your own business and worry about patrolling yoooorrph!”
Hawks slowed as he neared, coming to a casual hover at Endeavor’s side, hands stuffed casually in his pockets and coat zipped all the way up. Just looking at him made Endeavor sweat- it was far too warm out for that much insulation, especially if Hawks was flying at an appropriate altitude for ground patrol.
“Alright, alright, I’m just making sure!” Hawks chirped, grinning at him over the high, fuzzy collar of his jacket. “Something’s been goin’ around, and I do not wanna catch it.”
Something cold dropped into Enji’s gut.
“Don’t you have work to be doing?” ENji demanded. His stomach tightened, making a high, uncomfortable gwwweeeeeerrrr noise that made him swallow uneasily.
“Sure, but it’s about time to take a lunch break. Kaen’s schedule is pretty close to mine, so we usually grab something together. Wanna come?”
No, he did not want to come. The thought of adding more to whatever was bothering his stomach was extremely unappealing.
But saying so…well. He’d not admit weakness at any point, but particularly not in broad daylight, out on a public street with a gossip like Hawks listening.
“I suppose…”
“Great!” Hawks’ boots hit the sidewalk beside Endeavor, wings giving a little shake to settle the feathers before folding neatly against his back. “There’s this place a block and a half down that makes great katsudon.”
Enji bit back a groan, but wasn’t able to suppress another belch, only muffle it in his fist.
“Uurrmph……wonderful.” Greasy fried food was not going to make the state of his stomach any better.
“Getting some food into you’ll probably help,” Hawks said brightly. “Running hot for so long probably boils whatever’s in your stomach.”
Enji cringed at the very visceral mental image that produced.
“Just shut up and hrrrpp l-lead.”
Hawks did, chattering nonstop. Walking at the speedy hero’s eager pace jostled Endeavor’s stomach more than he would have liked, but it did prompt additional, positively thunderous burps, which eased the pressure and discomfort in his gut. Hawks only commented sometimes, for which Enji felt oddly grateful.
Lunch was exactly as much of a disaster as Enji had feared. On any other day, had he been prepared with an afternoon of paperwork so he could cope with the almost inevitable indigestion, he might even have enjoyed the meal. It was excellent katsudon, but that, like most fried foods, had at least a seventy five percent chance of leaving him bloated and burpy for hours afterwards. A price he was willing to pay, now and again, but…not today.
By the end of the meal- and the restaurant had generous portions, God save him- Enji had passed from uncomfortable into an unhappy middle ground between pain and nausea. His stomach was bloated and aching, making noises so loud he was fairly sure his mic was picking up on them.
“…..Jesus, Big Guy, you don’t sound too hot,” Hawks murmured as they headed back down the street. “Y’sure you’re alright?”
“Huurrrrrp…..ooh….don’t start with me, kid,” Endeavor grunted, half-muffling another belch in his fist. He resisted the urge to flatten his free hand over his stomach, unwilling to show any more signs of weakness or discomfort than he had to.
As they rounded a corner into an alley, Hawks leaned in and prodded Endeavor’s protruding gut with a curious churring sound. “Pretty sure you didn’t have this when I saw you last.”
For one horrible moment, Enji thought he might actually vomit on the spot. What came up instead was the sort of belch heard in frat houses around the world, followed by a queasy groan.
“HuuUUURRRRAAAAP! O-ooh….nngh….mrrrp….”
Hawks skipped back a pace, feathers ruffling in surprise. “Holy shit. Warn a guy next time.”
Enji hiccuped in response, hand hovering near his mouth. A cold sweat pricked at the back of his neck despite the warmth of the day and the heat of his own flames. His stomach gurgled and rolled with a horrid whining sound.
“Just- mmburrrrp….god…- just shut up. Hkk!”
Hawks sidled closer again, wings held up and back as if preparing to flee, but his eyes were bright and focused. He reached for Endeavor, flattening one long-fingered hand against the straining curve of his costume. Enji’s stomach burbled angrily. Hawks smiled.
“Wow. Bet the public would love to know that their #1 Hero has a sensitive tummy,” he chuckled, smoothing his hand up and over the swell of Enji’s belly. “Might actually humanize you a bit.”
Enji twitched hard, and regretted even that movement as his overfull stomach sloshed and gurgled. “Uurrmph….uunh….there is nothing human about how I feel right now,” he grunted. “Stop that.”
“I think it’s helping,” Hawks remarked, sliding his other hand under, then up, applying a smooth stroke of pressure up towards Enji’s sternum.
Enji hiccuped, free hand clenching into a fist as he felt his throat tighten.
“H-hawks, that….Ffuuooooorrrrppck!”
“That’s it, hot stuff, get it up,” Hawks crooned soothingly, repeating the motion. “So what is it that gets ya? The fried stuff?”
“Th-that, and- hurp- other things. Hawks stop, I hic don’t think you should keep doing that…we’re in public…”
And he could feel sweat beading at his temples, trickling down the curve of his spine. His skin was so tight it ached, tingling with the threat of overstimulated shivers.
“We’re down an alley,” the blond hummed, stroking again. “Poor thing, all gassy ’n worked up. Turn your flames off, that can’t be making this any better.”
Enji did. His whole body felt hot, hotter than it should with his flames off, and the inexplicably cold prickling was getting worse. Hawks applied another firm, double-handed stroke up Enji’s belly, and the belch this ushered forth brought a sudden flood of acrid saliva into his mouth.
“Hawks, stop,” Enji groaned, voice thick. “Please.”
“You suuurrrre?” Hawks asked, hands stilling at the unexpected politeness. “You really gotta relieve the pressure, or it’s just gonna feel awful all afternoon.”
“I’m hrrmp sure, this is neither the time nor the place.”
“Alright,” Hawks sighed. “Your funeral.” He gave Enji’s belly a firmly reassuring pat.
Endeavor lurched with a sudden, half-swallowed retch, one hand flying out for the closest thing to steady himself on as his knees went to water. That thing happened to be Hawks, so Enji hung onto him and clamped the other hand over his mouth. His shoulders jerked with an aborted heave, then another.
Hawks’ wings had fluffed up in agitation, rustling against each other and Enji’s arm as the blond tried to pry the much larger man’s hand off his shoulder. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed. “Not until you let go of me, don’t you-“
One fluttering wing knocked Enji even further off balance just as another heave jerked him forward. He threw his other hand out for balance.
Hawks had front row seats for the projectile vomit that followed. He screeched in horror, then clamped a hand defensively over his mouth and used the other to shove at Enji until, far too late, the big redhead released him and stumbled to the side, coughing and gagging on half-digested katsudon.
“What the actual fuck?” Hawks demanded as soon as he was out of the splash zone. He hurried to strip his jacket off, which had saved the rest of his torso from the worst of the mess.
Enji couldn’t answer. He gripped the edge of a trash can so tightly the metal warped under his hand and heaved until his vision whited out.
When he came back to himself, he was half slumped against the alley wall, leaning a bit precariously against the trash can he was still hanging onto, and Hawks was patting nervously at his face.
“Hrrrp….Hawks? Nngh….”
Hawks breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Fuck, Enji, don’t do that to me.”
“What?”
“You like, checked out for a couple minutes. Freakiest thing I’ve ever seen someone do without their quirk.”
Enji became aware of how utterly rotten he felt. Nevermind that it tasted like something had died under his tongue, he was drenched in sweat, and when he dared to release the edge of the trash can, he found he had gripped it so tightly that he had cut his palm in several places. To his dismay, he hadn’t magically recovered from the upset stomach while he was….absent; his stomach was still swollen and aching, gurgling unpleasantly. He still felt overfull, and suspected that, as was often the case when he was under stress, the vast majority of the episode had been unproductive dry heaving.
“Sorry,” he croaked. “Didn’t….hrrrpphh…..didn’t see that coming.”
“No shit.” Hawks ran a hand through Enji’s hair. Enji could feel it trembling. “I’ll call a car. Need to get you home, hot rod.”
“No,” Enji insisted, straightening under Hawks’ touch until the gentle hand slid from his hair, down his neck to his pauldron, then away. He pushed off from the wall, and by a stroke of luck, his legs held him. Things wavered a little and he swayed, but he was standing, and that was all that mattered. “I haven’t finished my patrol route.”
Hawks appeared to inflate to roughly twice his usual size. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he squawked. “You just spewed everywhere and retched yourself halfway into a coma, and you want to keep walking your patrol?”
“It’s not a-hhrrrrpp matter of want, Hawks, it’s a matter of responsibility.”
“Oh yeah? Explain to me exactly how useful you think you’re gonna be if something needing a hero actually happens. Right. Now.”
“Uurrrmph…..that isn’t the-“
Hawks darted to the left. Despite knowing what the feathery little shit was up to, despite knowing this was going to end badly, Enji shifted his weight and turned sharply to counter. Two things resulted:
First, the sudden movement made his head spin dizzingly- or perhaps it was the alley spinning around him- and his stomach turned over with a thick, angry groan.
Second, the vertigo went straight to his knees, which promptly folded. He hit the ground on hands and knees with a groan and stayed there, shuddering against the need to vomit, mouth open so he didn’t have to swallow back the excess of sour saliva flooding his mouth again.
“Look at you!” Hawks snapped. Enji heard the shutter sound from a camera, but couldn’t look up. “You can’t even grab for a purse snatcher or get out of the way of a kid skateboarding down the sidewalk, how the fuck do you think you’re gonna handle a real problem?”
“H-hawks, I- ggrrrgglh….ohhh…”
Visibly upset as he was, Hawks still managed to rub Enji’s back. His hands might tremble slightly, but the touch itself was gentle…and weirdly reassuring that the only nutjob behind him was the nutjob he mostly trusted.
“Babe,” Hawks murmured, voice lower. “You’re in bad shape. You could get someone killed if you stay on patrol like this. Go home. Say you’re sick, say you have an appointment, say something came up, I don’t care, just please…” He sighed. “I will personally cover your route as well as my own, either until evening shift kicks in or until I can get a sidekick to take over.”
Enji started to argue, but a guttural retch bowed his spine into an aching curve and any objection he might have come up with crumbled.
“F-fine,” he groaned. “I’ll…call a taxi.”
“Nah, let me call. I use a private service- much lower chance of a photo getting taken and put up somewhere you don’t want it, and damn, you do not want the gossip rags seeing you like this, trust me. Look.”
He held his phone where Enji could clearly see the photo on the screen: ashen skin, eyes red-rimmed, sweat darkening his beard, thick ropes of drool hanging from his open mouth. His stomach turned.
“…..alright. Call them.”
“Come over here,” Hawks coaxed, typing one-handed as he ran the other hand over the back of Enjii’s neck. “Getcha sitting down until the car comes. That position isn’t gonna help your joints any.”
“I’m not an in-hooorrrp!”
“You’re a cranky old man and kneeling on concrete is gonna fuck up your knees,” Hawks said firmly. He put his phone away and used both hands to coax Enji upright. “You owe me a jacket, by the way. C’mon, there’s a couple of crates over here.”
Mostly standing, head still lowered to lessen the vertigo, Endeavor trailed quietly along at Hawks’ side, choosing to focus on the golden lines of the younger man’s flight suit instead of on where they were going. Hawks was many things- a pain in the ass, a hedonist, a smart-mouthed little shit- but his stubborn insistence on seeing things through once he had started them was, in this moment, comforting. Hawks had said there would be a car, so there would be. He had said the route would be covered and that there was sometwhere for them to sit and wait, and so there would be. Simple as that.
They sat side by side on the promised crates, Hawks leaning as far back against the wall as his wings would allow, Enji slumped, trying to keep pressure off his aching gut. After a long moment of listening to the wholly unpleasant gurgling and whining, Hawks side and shifted a bit, laying a cautious hand on Enji’s stomach.
Enji tensed. “Hawks…” he said carefully.
“No pushing,” Hawks murmured. “Just for the tension. Your core is gonna hurt like a bitch later….tryin’ t’ make it a little easier now.”
He nodded tersely, holding very still as Hawks rubbed a slow, careful circle. As promised, there was no added pressure or effort to force a belch from him. After a moment, Hawks got his other hand involved, rubbing wide, soothing circles until a chime from his phone announced the arrival of the car.
“Alrighty, that’s my cue t’ leave,” he hummed. “Get some rest, Big Guy. I’ll check in later.”
“I don’t need mothering,” Enji snapped, getting carefully to his feet. The car, he could see, had tinted windows and a partition between the driver and the passengers. Good. All the better to hide his humiliation.
“Uh-huh. Drink water. And check your temp, I’m pretty sure you have a fever.”
Enji growled something wordless at him and slid into the car. Hawks waved casually from the mouth of the alley, taking to the skies as the car pulled away.
Alone in the house, Enji did none of the things Hawks had said. He shed boots, gloves and assorted armor bits, beached his bloated, miserable self on the couch, and tried to do administrative work on his phone. He fell asleep before the third page.
Something startled him awake. He wasn’t certain what, because the instant he jerked upright, his stomach did a tight somersault and leapt into his throat, which was a fairly good distraction as far as such things went.
Dragging himself to his feet, Enji stumble-ran for the kitchen with one hand clamped over his mouth and the other out ahead of him in case of obstacles. He slapped both hands down for support as he made the sink and bent double over it, coughing and gagging on his own spit.
“Goddamn, Enji.”
Oh. Oh, it was Hawks, probably having jimmied another lock and set off this miserable chain reaction. Out of the corner of one eye, he could see black and red and gold as Hawks sidled up beside him. A hand settled on his back.
“Did you sleep in your costume?” Hawks asked, pressing himself into Enji’s hip. “Seriously, that can’t have been comfortable.
“Hawks, just-“
Aaaaaaand there was Hawks’ other hand, sliding in front of him and applying firm pressure up against his stomach.
Enji leaned further forward with a belching heave, elbows grinding into the countertop as his gut finally, finally threw things into reverse. Vaguely, he could feel Hawks’ hands on him, one gentle against his spine and the other pressing against his gut, just adding to the awful pressure.
“Nggh….HhhRRrrrRRLP!”
“Come on, get it up,” Hawks murmured. His wings rustled softly. “Isn’t doing you any good keeping it in there.”
A streak of red zipped by his face: a feather, flicking the handle for cold water to rinse at least some of the mess away. Enji noted it only briefly, because the retching seemed endless and that was taking most of his attention.
When nothing was coming up anymore except spit, Hawks withdrew his hand and started prodding at his hip instead. Feathers zipped into view as Enji straightened (sort of, he was fairly certain that if he took his weight off both arms and tried to stand entirely on his feet that he would end up on the floor, probably tangled in Hawks’ wings), bearing a damp cloth and an empty cup. Right. Try to make himself feel a little more human.
He took the cloth first as Hawks kept poking and making little cooing noises, scrubbing it roughly over his face in an effort to banish the tingling feeling of disconnect. It didn’t help much with the tingles, but it got the puke out of his beard and took care of the sweat, at least for now. He rinsed his mouth, contemplated drinking a little and decided against it, and used the cup to finish rinsing most of the sink out. He should clean it properly, but the feeling of disconnect with getting worse and he just….didn’t care.
“You should get out of your costume,” Hawks murmured, nudging him gently towards the hall. “I’ll take care of shit in here.”
Enji just grunted at him and made his unsteady way to his bedroom. The hall felt several times longer than it should have, and the floor was definitely moving under him, but damn if he wasn’t going to give Hawks another reason to rush after him like a goose after a stray gosling.
There was a guest in the house. He ought to put at least a little effort into dressing…..but Hawks had seen him naked on plenty of occasions. He didn’t need to be impressed. Enji went with a thin tank top and sweats usually reserved for gym time, because the idea of anything tighter or more restrictive made him feel more nauseated than he already was.
He was sitting on the bed, trying to decide if lying down would be better or worse, when Hawks puttered in, arms and feathers heavy with things. To his shame, it took Enji a few blinks and more effort than it should have to focus on any of it.
“Heeeyy,” Hawks said softly. “Still kinda puke-stupid, huh?”
“Hnnuuh?”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Here, open your mouth.”
He did, since that was easier than arguing, and a feather swooped into view, popping a thermometer under his tongue in a move that was really too smooth to be anything other than practiced.
Hawks puttered around the bedroom, moving and rearranging and generally making himself at home in Enji’s space. Enji….wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about this. The vast majority of their time together had been in Hawks’ apartment, where there was no chance of one of Enji’s children walking in on them, and the rare times he allowed Hawks into the house…well. He had a guest room.
Now here was Hawks, turning blankets down and twitching curtains closed, making tiny chirping noises to himself as he worked. Like he’d always been welcomed into the space, and was free to do whatever he pleased.
The thermometer beeped, making Enji twitch and bringing Hawks bustling over for it. Enji turned from him, pressing a fist against his mouth in a vain effort to suppress the burp that forced its way up from the sudden movement.
“Mmrrrppf….hhh…”
“Well shit,” Hawks remarked. He’d put the thermometer down and was looking at his phone, free hand reaching over to card through Enji’s hair. “That’s a fever, Hot Rod. Even for you. This is definitely not just grumpy stomach from a greasy lunch.”
“No,” Enji growled, because there simply wasn’t time for that kind of nonsense. Besides, Fuyumi hadn’t said anything about a virus at the school when he’d seen her last…Shoto hadn’t been home to bring anything from the dorms…when would he even- “You did this to me.”
Hawks looked up from his phone, feathers fluffing. “Sorry, what?”
“You did this to me,” he repeated.
“I admit that feeding you a heavy, greasy lunch was not a great idea, given the circumstances, but I d-“
“You were in my office. Sick.”
Hawks blinked. “What, days ago? I’d just had-“
Enji gave himself a little shake, trying to get himself a bit more together. “Fever,” he said sternly, counting off on his fingers. “Indigestion. Stomach cramps. Fatigue.”
“…..I did throw up a couple hours later,” Hawks admitted. “But seriously, babe, that was nothing like….whatever it is you’ve got.”
“You. Did. This,” Enji said. His beard flared up briefly, but he forced it away. He might be ill, but that was no reason to let his quirk run wild.
Hawks was very quiet for a minute, feathers slowly settling. Then he ran a hand through his hair. “Makes more sense than I’d like…..well shit. Don’t know why it hit you so damn hard, but…I’m really sorry.”
Enji’s general anger ran up hard against the unexpected apology. Hawks was not a man who regretted much, or at least who didn’t admit to regrets- part of the reason they had hooked up in the first place, because no-strings sex required no regrets- but now his wings were drooping and he looked…upset.
Upset for Enji.
“Don’t do it again,” he grunted.
“Hey, I’ll do my best,” the blond promised. “And I’ll make it up to you. You need someone to hang around and take care of you anyhow.”
Enji had been about to get up and very carefully investigate the possibility of actually lying down, but he stopped to stare at Hawks instead. “…..what?”
“Someone needs to take care of you. So I’ll do it.”
“No.”
Hawks raised one finely sculpted eyebrow. “No?”
“I’m not an invalid, Hawks. I- ouuurrrph!” Just the force of the belch was enough to make him gag, and Hawks darted nervously to the lined trash bin he’d carried into the bedroom. Enji pressed a hand to his mouth and held very still, swallowing hard. After a moment, he felt safe enough to lower the hand, though a fresh prickle of sweat was beading at his hairline. “I can take care of nngh myself.”
“Can,” Hawks agreed amiably, carrying the trash bin over to the side of the bed. “But shouldn’t have to. This is not any judgement of your masculinity or capability or whatever macho crap it is that has you convinced I shouldn’t stay. You’ll recover faster if you don’t have to spend energy on the extra stuff. Besides, I was due for a paperwork day. I went by my office and snagged the stuff that needed done before I came over.”
That….was a lot to unpack. Rather than answer, Enji picked hmself up and moved to his preferred side of the bed….which was where Hawks had placed the bin despite having never slept with him in this room before. Under Hawks’ watchful eye, he eased into bed and debated blankets or not. Hawks decided for him, twitching a sheet up.
“I’m assuming that if you can get a fever this high, you can also chill. So you want something on you, at least for now. And here….let me get another pillow behind you.”
“I don’t need-“
“Yes you do, you’re still gassy as fuck. This’ll help. And so will I, when the nausea dies down a little.”
“Hawks, this is entirely unnecessary.”
The look Hawks gave him then was….hard to read. Usually those golden eyes were so easy…
“So’s what we do behind closed doors,” he said quietly. “So’s the fact that it’s stayed behind closed doors. Doesn’t mean it’s not something we’re better off having.”
Something cold, like guilt, spread through Enji’s chest, an icy thread of unpleasantness woven into his fevered heat. “….Hawks, that’s-“
“Not a concern right now,” Hawks said quickly. “For now, you need an extra pillow to help get that bloating down. Can you handle some water and meds?”
Enjoy was fairly sure he didn’t have many, if any, relevant medications on hand. Painkillers, sure, both ingested and topical. Creams for the occasional heat rash or other thermal problem, bandages and other first-aid things….tape for during or after workouts…but very little for illness, except for some antacids. Usually he just found somewhere to be still and waited out any indigestion that might disrupt his regular routine. Relying on medication was never wise, the potential to become reliant was always there…and it had always been his policy to just work through.
“I…..might?” He said cautiously. Honestly the worst that could happen was that he would vomit it back up. If he was lucky, whatever it was might even help.
“Here, this first…..” Hawks tucked an extra pillow behind him, propping him up more than he would have preferred. It did, however, seem to be a reasonably happy mid-way point between lying too flat and sitting up enough to put pressure on his stomach. How Hawks had known that sweet spot was entirely beyond him, but he was grudgingly grateful. “Alright. You try and get some rest. I know you don’t have shit in the way of meds on hand, so I’ll do a supply run. I need paperwork fuel anyhow.”
“I don’t need a nanny,” Enji grunted.
“Nah, but a sexy nurse might help you feel better,” Hawks laughed, and sidestepped Enji’s attempt to swat him for the tease. “Seriously, though, I’m going to take your keys and I’ll be back in a flash. Quiet as I can be.”
“Do as you please,” Enji muttered. He gave in to the urge to rub a hand over his stomach, wincing as even that little pressure brought up a low, gurgling belch. “Mmp…..oouuurrrlp!”
Hawks sidled back to the beside to run a quick hand over Enji’s forehead and up through his hair, then whisked away in a streak of feathers and laughing eyes.
Enji was asleep before he heard the turn in the lock.
When Enji woke next, both the bedroom and the yard outside the windows were dark, and he was well on his way to sweating straight through his shirt.
“Babe?” Hawks appeared in the doorway, stripped to the waist and wearing an apron secured around trim hips. “Thought so. Welcome back.”
Belatedly, Enji saw the two feathers on the bed with him, which answered the question of ‘how did he know’.
“…what are you wearing?”
“An apron, obviously,” Hawks sniffed. “What else?”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
There wasn’t a meaningful conclusion to be drawn from the conversation, and really…it was a nice view. Hawks’ altered musculature and the strength of his flight muscles in particular had resulted in more muscle and sweeping curves than most men his size and shape. Especialy in his chest, built up by regular use of his pectoralis and supracoracoideus muscles for flight, and his abdomen, from the sheer amount of work it took to keep his body appropriately positioned in the air. He was still slim and smooth (a twink, Hawks had said once), but it was a solid, powerful slimness, more like the sleek form of a wildcat at rest. Enji enjoyed being able to fit his palm against Hawks’ hip and feel it curve under his touch, silk-soft skin over dense muscle. There was something intensely arousing about trailing his fingers down Hawks’ thighs, or nuzzling between them and feeling the powerful muscles flex, knowing they were strong enough to choke him out easily if Hawks chose. The younger man had reflexes like lightning, making taking him to bed on a spirited sort of day into something between professional swing dancing and a barroom brawl- but fun.
“Aaaaanyway, do you feel up to some tea?” Hawks asked, padding into the room. He’d shed even his costume’s loose pants, exchanging them for illegally tight exercise leggings he would never get away with wearing around Enji if the redhead hadn’t been feeling too ill to make good on any threats. Enji might have gotten a little distracted as he rounded the corner of the bed, attention caught by the way the bow of the apron ties lay against the curve of his ass.
“What?”
“Tea, Hot Rod, stop staring at my ass.”
Enji flustered and looked away briefly, ears hot. There was something wholly different about ogling Hawks now, outside of their usual interactions of professional setting (clandestine and thrilling) and actively fucking (expected and allowed). It wasn’t that he wasn’t allowed, but it did feel like he’d been caught at something and he didn’t know what would happen next. It was both frustrating and exciting, and he was too damn tired to be excited right now.
Hawks chuckled and curled down onto the bed, leaning in to kiss Enji’s face and press the inside of one delicate wrist against his forehead. “Mmm…..definitely still have that fever. And you’re soaked, damn.”
“…..what kind of tea?” Enji asked, somewhat poleaxed by the gentle handling. Even in their best moments, he and Rei hadn’t had this sort of relationship. He remembered a few times, early on, when he had come down with whatever Touya had gotten, that Rei had been soft with him by virtue of him being asleep on a couch with an ill toddler in his lap or curled against his side. But it was never like this. This was sweetness for sweetness’ own sake, the end goal being nothing deeper than simple comfort.
“Straight peppermint, with some honey if you want,” Hawks hummed. He stayed perched on the edge of the bed, continuing to run his hand through Enji’s hair despite Enji knowing it was wet with sweat and therefore gross. “It’ll help with the bloating. How do you feel, by the way? Still feverish an’ all that, but you don’t look so….round.”
Enji actually looked down at his midsection a moment before the last word registered and he glared at Hawks.
“Round?”
“Yeah, round, you had a belly goin’ on earlier,” Hawked laughed. He leaned in, smoothing his other hand down Enji’s chest and over his stomach. True to his words, it was looking less dramatic than it had early in the afternoon. “Lookin’ a bit better now, see?”
Enji tried to keep the look of annoyance, but Hawks swept that clever hand back up, applying pressure in just the right spot.
“HhuuuUURRRAPPP!”
Hawks laughed and did it again, ushering forth another thunderous belch. When he tried for a third, Enji grabbed his hand. “Don’t push it,” he warned.
“Still queasy?”
“Do I have to have a reason?”
“Don’t have to, but it helps me understand. One more time, though- tea?”
“….could do tea,” he allowed.
“In bed?”
“No.” He wasn’t yet so much an invalid that he had to be served his tea in bed like an ailing grandmother.
“Alriiiiight. Up you get, then?”
He was oddly thankful that Hawks didn’t immediately rush to help him stand. He found his feet and moved away from the bed, wincing at the way his tank top stuck to his sweaty skin. His sweats did the same thing behind his knees, of all places. Ugh.
Satisfied, Hawks sauntered off down the hall, letting Enji make his way at a more comfortable pace. Judging by the click and burbling noise, Hawks had had the kettle set to keep warm for some time, just in case tea was called for.
When he reached the kitchen, a mug was steeping and Hawks perched on the counter, one wing drawn up and back and tight to keep away from the stove where a pot steamed gently. The other was was half spread, almost puddled on the countertop, and shifted when Enji neared.
“Give this a try,” Hawks hummed, pressing the mug into Enji’s hand. His wing curled around Enji’s side, gently chivvying him close against Hawks’ leg. “I’ve got some meds for you too, but we might as well try the tea first.” He spread his knees, nudging Enji between them and hooking his ankles behind Enji’s knees. It was close and intimate and Enji knew all too well that he would probably end up on the floor if he had to get away in a hurry. He resolved to throw up on Hawks rather than trip himself, if it came to that. He felt the wing curl in behind him, gentle against his shoulder even though those same feathers could stiffen and sharpen to killing blades at a thought from their welder.
Enji allowed the closeness, allowed the containment even though he had gone into it overwarm and sweaty to start with and was only getting moreso, and allowed Hawks to lean in, nuzzling softly at his neck and shoulder while Enji sipped.
“Tea’s good,” Enji said quietly. Hawks made a soft cooing sound against his neck, feathers rising slightly in a lazily content ruffling. “…….thank you.”
“Any time, Big Guy,” Hawks murmured. “Whatever you need.”