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Hawks didn’t think much about it. With his mind somewhere else entirely, he didn’t even notice as his hands moved to trace the broad back in front of him. Carelessly, mindlessly, his fingers traced the lines of hard muscle covered by the skin-tight suit. As always, Endeavor’s costume left little to the imagination. Hawks could see the muscle tissue tense with the way the hero crouched in front of him. Fascinated—entirely forgetting himself or where they were—Hawks allowed his hands to roam.
All the way until…
“Hawks.” Endeavor’s voice was different than usual—he sounded uncertain. “What are you doing?”
At first, Hawks didn’t get it. Then his hands stopped. Shocked he stared at the way his fingers splayed out across Endeavor’s shoulder blade. The hero didn’t look back at him, yet Hawks felt trapped and caught. What was he thinking? Even as Endeavor’s eyes not once left the villain in front of them, the one they were waiting to apprehend as soon as the civilians had left the scene—there actual job, what they had come here to do—Hawks felt his undivided attention on him.
And his massive slip up.
What’s he been thinking? Yes, it took surprisingly long for the villain to leave the mall, overrun with civilians, making Endeavor’s and Hawks’ time alone together as they waited for their opportunity to pounce way longer than it needed to be—longer than either of them had expected. That was no excuse, though, for Hawks to let his control slip like that and touch his idol, unwantedly.
Still, his hand was resting on his hero’s shoulder. He wanted to pull it back but felt trapped in the awkwardness of the moment.
“Hawks?”
“I’m sorry!” His hand was glued to the spot. “It wasn’t…I mean, I’ll stop.” But even still, he hadn’t moved away.
Endeavor didn’t ask again.
Finally, Hawks coughed as he regained the control over his body. Embarrassed he pulled his hand away, lamenting the loss of warm touch. “I wasn’t thinking,” he explained himself and apologized once more. “Sorry about that.”
He would understand it, if Endeavor just up and left. Even if he canceled their cooperation for this job, left—or told Hawks to leave. Truly, they could each handle the villain themselves as soon as he left the busy area.
Endeavor’s ears had turned slightly pink. From the back, Hawks watched the skin turn darker.
“What did you do that for?” Endeavor asked. His voice was low and tightly controlled, allowing no emotion to transfer through it, so all Hawks had to gage his reaction was the reddening of his ears.
“Nothing,” he wheezed, feeling out of breath and shocked by his own lapse of control. That wasn’t normally his way at all. The HPSC had taught him in rigorous training hours, to keep his feelings in check. He had to have truly felt safe and at peace to allow himself to slip so massively. It was too late now, to lament his mistakes, all he could do was apologize. “It won’t happen again.”
Endeavor didn’t reply. Quietly, he peered around the corner to check that the target hadn’t gotten away and that there were still too many civilians around to move in, then he glimpsed over his shoulder at Hawks. It was just a moment, a silent second in which their eyes met. Endeavor was impossible to read, and yet, Hawks had a sudden idea.
A daring thought overcame him. It was utter madness and yet the words slipped out before he could pull them back. “Unless you want me to.”
He kept his breath, made no noise at all. For a tense second, he was certain even his heart stopped beating as if that could upset Endeavor and set him off, and Hawks was afraid of that. Of whatever his reply would be.
Worse than the reaction he had anticipated was the reaction he got. Which was none at all.
He had expected him to say something. To leave. To yell even and blow their cover, but Endeavor just remained silent. As if he had to think about it.
The fact that he wasn’t told off yet, made Hawks braver and crazier. “D—Do you?”
Nothing.
It was infuriating.
It was…inviting.
Testing the waters, he put the tip of his fingers on Endeavor’s spine. He traced the line of bumps down to the small of his back, pressed a bit tighter as if he thought Endeavor hadn’t felt it yet. Then he put his whole palm flat against the other man’s heated skin.
The contact felt amazing—warm and welcome on such a cold evening.
He waited for Endeavor to call him off, to move away, to call him names even. Anything. He couldn’t believe Endeavor would just let it go, wouldn’t comment, would let him touch him. Though the contact was perfectly innocent, it felt like the most daring, most indecent thing he’d ever done. The realization that despite his fears, Endeavor didn’t move away nor told him off, spurred him on. His mind was filled with ideas. Innocent touch quickly turning much less innocent as he thought about all the ways in which he wanted to touch Endeavor but had never thought possible before. Now, these dreams might be reality, if only he could dare move his hand a little lower, push a little harder.
If only he could be bolder.
He didn’t dare.
“Hawks.”
His mind snapped back. Away from the filth he was dreaming up in his mind. His hand, however, remained where it was.
“Do you like it?” he dared to ask, hearing his voice smooth and surprisingly firm despite the fear in his heart.
There was a long pause. Finally, Endeavor allowed a deep breath to leave his lungs. It made his torso deflate, his shoulders slump and tense muscles unwind. “Yes.” Another pause. “Could you go a little higher?”
Hawks wanted to go lower. With Endeavor’s verbal agreement to his current touch, his mind had turned filthy again. His eyes had slipped to the belt and the visible crack between his cheeks, though he wouldn’t be able to touch that part where Endeavor’s flames danced over his costume, without burning himself. Now, his mind refocused on Endeavor’s request.
“Like that?” He moved the hand higher to just under where the flames were lazily flickering over Endeavor’s shoulders.
“A bit higher.”
A bit higher meant he’d burn himself. Yet, he wanted to do as Endeavor asked, so recklessly, he put his hand higher. To his amazement the flames parted for him, leaving Endeavor’s skin hot but comfortable to touch. Hawks’ hand came to rest between his shoulder blades.
“Yes, there.”
Endeavor didn’t have to say more than that. Knowing he found the right spot, Hawks put his second hand there. Firmly, he pressed both palms against his back, then his fingers clawed around his idol’s strong neck, and he started massaging tension and aching kinks from knotted muscle.
When Endeavor sighed, a cloud of steam wafted from his lips. It gave Hawks all the confirmation he needed, to know he was doing it right. The poor man’s body was all uptight and hurting from years of hard work and not a moment of relaxation. Now, Endeavor’s head dropped ever so slightly lower, offering an unprotected neck and back to Hawks.
It’s the ultimate sign of trust.
Firmly, Hawks dug his thumb next to the other man’s spine. With circling motions, he forced the flesh to relax and the tension to seep away. With the palm and the fingers, he rubbed along the shoulder blades and neck, he kneaded the flesh, chasing the flames away wherever his hands reached. He wasn’t afraid of the heat at all.
Endeavor moaned slightly.
Hawks’ hands ached from the effort of tenderizing strong muscle, but he was determined not to stop until the tension had left his idol completely. Slowly, but surely, Endeavor’s whole body leaned into his touch, as he allowed himself to enjoy being taken care if. More and more, Hawks could tickle sighs of pleasure and moans of relief from him, as old aches left Endeavor’s body, replaced by therapeutic relaxation.
The moment was over too fast.
Suddenly, a flurry of motion and energy made Endeavor pull back, his spine go erect. He pointed forward. “That’s our chance.”
Hawks blinked. Misty-eyed, having his dream so rudely interrupted, he looked past Endeavor’s relaxed shoulders to the villain leaving for the exit.
“Right.” He flared his wings, sent out his feathers, wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.
The fight was barely worth the name. Against the top two heroes the villain, who had seemed so intimidating on paper, hardly put up any resistance at all. Maybe Hawks’ vented interest in finishing the job as fast as humanly possible did its part in thwarting the villain’s defense. He never stood a chance.
A few minutes later, Hawks called the police to pick the criminal up, as Endeavor held the villain in submission. Hawks looked to the two men, focused on his hero, tried to gage the man’s thoughts. Endeavor wasn’t looking at him.
Wasn’t his mind still reeling from their moment just now, the way Hawks was still struggling to comprehend what had happened? How could he be so calm, as if nothing had happened—or as if it didn’t matter—the moment they’d shared.
Eventually, the police came to take the criminal away. As soon as their cars left with blue lights flaring, Endeavor took to the sky.
Dejected, feeling like this had been the moment to talk about it, Hawks followed. The number one landed on a nearby roof, Hawks arriving next to him only seconds later.
For a long time, Endeavor watched the city, as if looking for another evildoer, someone else to distract them from the reality of what they had just shared. Just when Hawks was about to give up on Endeavor mentioning it at all, he turned.
Turquoise eyes rested on Hawks. Endeavor reached over his shoulder, a fleeting motion touching his neck and the spot between his shoulder blades.
“What you did there…”
You’ll never do again.
We won’t speak about it.
It never happened.
Hawks expected the sentence to end like that, so when Endeavor found entirely different words, he failed to comprehend.
“What?” he asked to make sure.
If at all possible, Endeavor both blanched and blushed at once. He turned white around the nose yet red on the cheeks. “I’m sorry, if you didn’t want to talk—"
“No,” Hawks waved frantically, not wanting the man to take a hasty retreat. “What did you say? I didn’t…” He had to hear it again.
“I said…” Endeavor hesitated, as if he thought it might be a mistake, repeating it, “what you did there, it felt good.”
“You liked it?”
The pallor left Endeavor’s face, turning a darker and more thorough red. “I—I never felt like that before.”
Hawks wanted to cry for him, and for himself, but instead, he could only stare. “You genuinely liked it?”
Endeavor blinked, avoided his gaze. Hawks’ disbelief seemed to upset and worry him.
Hawks bit his tongue. Then he pulled all his courage together. “Do you want me to do it again?”
Endeavor looked uncertain. On his face, Hawks could watch two sides clash, a battle being fought between the hero who refused to look weak and the man who wanted to be touched like that again: kindly, soothingly, massaging away his aches. If that was all Hawks would ever be able to do for him, he’d do it until his hands burned and fingers hurt from hard labor.
For Endeavor, it seemed a battle he could neither win nor lose. He was stuck, unwilling to surrender either way.
“I would love to do it again,” Hawks smiled, to make it easier for him.
Endeavor balked at him. “You…you would?”
With a flutter of his wings Hawks had closed the distance, landing right in front of Endeavor. “Where else does it hurt?”
Endeavor still looked uncertain, but a flicker in his eyes gave Hawks the answer he’d been expecting. Everywhere. Of course, everywhere. They were similar that way, working their bodies to the brink of exhaustion, ever since they were young. Hawks knew that ache, but he was twenty years younger, his body more willing to ignore the constant struggle and heal in the short breaks he allowed himself to rest. Endeavor’s body was long past that point.
“Turn around,” he ordered, and to his amazement, Endeavor turned.
He started, where he left off before they had to catch the villain. Between Endeavor’s shoulder blades, tense again, where Hawks had just worked so hard to help the muscle relax. It was no trouble at all for Hawks, repeating the same effort once more. Enthusiastically, he started anew.
From the center he worked outward, to the shoulder blades and shoulder and up to the neck. Then, when his hands already burned from using whole new muscle groups that he hadn’t trained yet, Hawks moved a bit lower, to the middle of the broad back. It was a gigantic canvas, and Hawk was determined to cover it all in soothing touch and tender love.
“Hawks?” After a long time of silent massages, Endeavor spoke again. “Thank you.”
“No worries,” Hawks laughed.
He felt slightly nervous as he realized his voice had climbed several octaves at the excitement of not just touching his idol but hearing him call his name at the same time, thanking him even.
Endeavor glanced over his shoulder. His gaze was perfectly innocent, like the nature of Hawks’ touch seemed to be. He didn’t know where Hawks’ mind had truly turned. The way his eyes dropped increasingly lower past were his hands worked effortlessly—to the two round cheeks sitting below his belt.
Did Endeavor have tense muscle down there too? Would he allow Hawks to touch him there as well.
“What about you?”
“Hm?” Hawks’ eyes snapped up, feeling caught in his lude thoughts. Endeavor’s turquoise captured him for a moment, then Hawks started tracing his face with his eyes. The big, straight nose, the strong jaw, the delicate lips, slightly open and downturned with the last syllable of his question. The scar cut his face in half.
“Are you hurting anywhere?”
Hawks gulped, feeling entranced by the number one so close, so intimate. His hands were still roaming around his back, reaching lower to the dip of his hip. The intimacy gave Hawks trouble thinking, difficulties comprehending. Normally, he’d be more quick-witted than that, now he had trouble understanding the question.
“Hurting?”
“Do you want me to massage you too?”
He knew it was a onetime offer. He thought, he might be the only one Endeavor ever offered something like that to. It would be an incredible waste to deny him—even more so since he was offering so freely. Then again…
If he agreed, it would just be a fair exchange. A back massage for a back massage. And nothing more to it. He wondered if it was Endeavor’s way of turning their intimate moment into a rational transaction. Hawks didn’t want that.
He wanted something else instead.
Something that would make it terribly obvious—the nature of this encounter.
Something audacious and frightening to ask for.
He didn’t think Endeavor would agree, and yet he didn’t think he’d ever get a chance like that ever again.
“Would you kiss me?”
Endeavor’s gaze darkened. He didn’t reply.
For a long, terribly long eternity, Hawks was certain he had screwed it up. He had gone to far. Now, Endeavor would finally pull away.
The turquoise gaze had left him. At least, he wouldn’t be trapped in its judging glare when the number one hero broke his heart. Instead, Endeavor looked straight ahead, again, and Hawks could only stare at the back of his head. On Endeavor’s hips, Hawks’ hands had stilled.
Then the contact broke. Endeavor took a step forward. Where Hawks hand had held his hip, now they were clasping at empty air, the broad back out of his reach.
“You want me to…?” Endeavor asked carefully, almost shy.
He stood in front of Hawks, two steps away. He looked like a child being asked to play a game he didn’t know the rules of.
Hawks felt ashamed for asking something so intimate without even knowing whether Endeavor wanted to. “You don’t have to, of course.”
Endeavor took half a step closer.
“I wasn’t thinking,” Hawks admitted, “you don’t need to—”
Rudely, Endeavor interrupted him. He basically spat his next words. “I know I don’t have to.” The words were aggressive, yet not provocative. He threw them at Hawks’ feet more out of defiance, Hawks thought, than out of disgust or spite. Endeavor, it seemed, was as unsure as him, and as desperately flailing to keep both their dignity intact throughout this awkward encounter.
“I just wanted to—" Hawks tried to defend himself, but once more, he was interrupted.
“I know what you wanted,” Endeavor said, voice equally harsh yet less aggressive. “You made it quite clear.” He took another step forward.
They were almost as close now as they were when Hawks massaged his back. Only this time they were face to face. Hawks tried to keep his eyes in check—not to trail down to where Endeavor’s chest is clearly framed by the suit, even his hard nipples visible, or lower still, where Hawks could be ogling at the huge bulge in Enji’s crotch.
Hard abdominal muscles, impressive thighs, broad shoulders.
He was perfect.
Hawks knew, yet desperately reigned his eyes in, staring at the face, equally as perfect.
Endeavor was a beautiful man, despite the scars, or maybe because of it. It was evidence of who he was. The hero who never gave up. Hawks admired that about him.
They were…impossibly close.
And then, Endeavor took the final step.
Their lips brushed. Hawks was momentarily frozen in the moment. Then their lips met again.
Endeavor’s were dry and hot and they pushed against his. The first touch was tentative and careful, leaving either of them ample time and opportunity to pull away. The second touch was more courageous, more experimental, as if searching for the right way to do it.
When their lips touched a third time, it was demanding, seeking, exploring. Their lips are pried open, Endeavor’s mouth is hot. Their tongues touch. For a moment, they struggled against each other, each of them awkwardly looking for the most comfortable way to make it work. For a moment, it’s embarrassingly clear to both of them, that neither ever did this before, not like that, not quite so daringly exploring someone else’s mouth. For that moment, the kiss tasted of shame and fear, but it was slowly swallowed away and replaced by adventure and desire.
Finally, realizing that not only did Endeavor do as he asked him to, but he even went above and beyond, not just gifting him a fleeting kiss, but exploring him, wanting him in turn—Hawks hunger awoke.
He pushed against the man’s tongue and lips, found Endeavor willingly giving in, defenses either quickly bursting apart at the clash with Hawks’ desire, or never there in the first place.
Eventually, their lips separate. Hawks took a gasping breath, exhausted as if he’d just fought a battle. When he looked at Endeavor, the man looked stunned and somewhat overwhelmed. His eyes were glazed over.
Then he blinked and refocused on Hawks. Testily, Endeavor touched his bottom lip, that looked red and slightly swollen. Had Hawks bitten him? He didn’t remember that, but he could see a soft imprint of teeth quickly disappearing on the tender skin.
Endeavor checked his hand as if he expected there to be blood. There wasn’t, though. His brows furrowed. Was he disappointed?
Hawks feared he had hurt him in his energetic passion, yet before he could say anything, Endeavor spoke:
“Like that. Is that what you wanted?”
And Hawks…Hawks could say anything. He could simply agree. He could lie and deny it. He could ask for more even and see if Endeavor would be willingly to go further. He could apologize or promise not to bite the next time around if there would ever be a next time.
Anything, to answer the question.
Hawks didn’t answer the question. Stupidly, he marched ahead, and allowed his foolish heart to do the talking.
“I love you.”